- AARON DUROGATI -

UN SENTIMENT INCOMPARABLE

Randonnée et vol INDE

« Eh, Tamara, comment dit-on ''As-tu du paneer'' ? »
« Ne t'inquiète pas Aaron... on arrivera à se faire comprendre. »

- AARON DUROGATI -

BEYOND COMPARISON

Hey, Tamara, how do you say “Have you got any paneer?”
“Don’t worry Aaron… we’ll be able to make people understand us.”
Aaron Durogati and Tamara Lunger are looking for paneer, a typical cheese found in India and Pakistan. It’s made by curdling fresh milk with vinegar, lemon juice, or yoghurt and is one of the best sources of protein around here. “Around here” is a remote area beyond the Rohtang Pass, in the Pir Panjal Range of the Himachal Pradesh Himalayas, in Northern India.

Aaron Durogati et Tamara Lunger recherchent du paneer, un fromage typique trouvé en Inde et au Pakistan. Il est fait de lait frais caillé avec du vinaigre, du jus de citron, ou du yogourt, et est l'une des meilleures sources de protéines par ici. « Par ici » est une région reculée au-delà du Rohtang Pass, dans la Chaîne Pir Panjal de l'état himalayen Himachal Pradesh, dans le nord de l'Inde.
Dinesh marmonne quelque chose, acquiesce vigoureusement et disparaît un moment sous le comptoir de son petit magasin. Il s'ensuit un bruit d'objets bousculés, et de quelqu'un qui cogne sa tête. Quelques mouches, ennuyées, prennent leur envol. Dinesh ressurgit, souriant, deux grands fromages frais dans les mains. « Tu vois ! », s'exclame Tamara, fouillant dans son sac pour y trouver ses roupies, « quand on veut acheter du fromage, on peut toujours se faire comprendre, d'une manière ou d'une autre. »
Aaron et Tamara s'assoient dehors, au bord de la route. Ils mordent dans le paneer. Ce n'est pas de la mozzarella fraîche, ce n'est pas non plus très propre, mais à ce moment précis c'est ce qu'il y a de plus délicieux au monde. Ils sont en chemin vers Manali, à pied. Fatigués mais heureux, ils sont sur le chemin du retour d'un étrange voyage qui n'a été ni des vacances, ni une expédition.

Dinesh mumbles something, nods vigorously and disappears for a moment below the counter of his little store and re-emerges, smiling, holding two large fresh cheeses. “See?” says Tamara, rummaging in her pack for rupees “When you want to buy cheese, you can always make yourself understood one way or another”.

Aaron and Tamara sit outside, by the road. They sink their teeth into the paneer. It’s not fresh mozzarella, but at that moment it is the most delicious thing in the world. They’re on their way back home after a strange trip that has been neither a holiday, nor an expedition. It all started back in September. One week after the ‘Red Bull Dolomitenmann’ – the hardest relay race in the world, held in the mountains around Lienz, Austria. Aaron won with the best paragliding time, so he deserved some time off. The plan was a simple one. Pick a rough destination with no fixed agenda, stay out as long as possible, climb some mountains and fly a bit – have a real adventure... Tamara is the perfect partner. She’s a strong alpinist, happy at high altitude, and she has flying experience.

September 15: Aaron and Tamara arrive in New Delhi. They travel by jeep for two days to get to the Rohtang Pass. From here on in it’s time to let the adventures roll. They set out early in the morning, climbing with no definite summit or level of performance in mind. Aaron and Tamara go where they want, depending on how they feel and what they want to do. They arrange a rendezvous with the driver, and head off into the hills. The valleys lie at four thousand metres. They climb to six thousand, six thousand five hundred. Finding a patch free from rock and ice, they prepare the tandem paraglider, and take off. Things aren’t always straightforward, not least because it’s sometimes difficult to find a suitable launch site. They gain height quickly. During the first few days they feel the effects of the altitude. Bizarrely though, Aaron only feels it above five thousand metres, but as soon as he takes off he feels better. Tamara doesn’t feel it, until she starts flying...

Aaron and Tamara sit outside, by the road. They sink their teeth into the paneer. They’re on their way back home after a strange trip that has been neither a holiday, nor an expedition. It all started back in September. The plan was a simple one. Pick a rough destination with no fixed agenda, stay out as long as possible, climb some mountains and fly a bit – have a real adventure... Tamara is the perfect partner. She’s a strong alpinist, happy at high altitude, and she has flying experience. September 15: Aaron and Tamara arrive in New Delhi. They travel by jeep for two days to get to the Rohtang Pass. From here on in it’s time to let the adventures roll. Aaron and Tamara go where they want, depending on how they feel and what they want to do. Things aren’t always straightforward, not least because it’s sometimes difficult to find a suitable launch site. They gain height quickly. During the first few days they feel the effects of the altitude...

Tout a commencé en septembre. Une semaine après le « Red Bull Dolomitenmann », la course de relais la plus difficile au monde comprenant course à pied, vol en parapente, VTT et kayak, organisé dans les montagnes situées autours de Lienz, en Autriche. Aaron a gagné grâce au meilleur temps effectué en parapente, il mérite donc un congé.
Le plan était simple. Choisir une vague destination sans programme particulier, y rester aussi longtemps que possible, grimper des montagnes et voler un peu. Une véritable aventure.
Tamara était la partenaire parfaite. C'est une alpiniste robuste, heureuse en haute altitude, et expérimentée en matière de parapente.
15 septembre : Aaron et Tamara arrivent à New Delhi. Un chauffeur les y attend. Ils voyagent en jeep pendant deux jours pour arriver au Rohtang Pass. Le jeep est leur unique point de référence pendant un mois entier.
À partir de là, les aventures commencent. Ils partent tôt le matin, grimpant sans sommet ni objectif de performance particuliers. Aaron et Tamara vont là où ils le souhaitent, au gré du vent et de leur état d'esprit. Ils donnent rendez-vous au chauffeur et commencent leur chemin vers les collines.
Les vallées s'étendent à quatre mille mètres d'altitude. Elles montent jusqu'à six mille, six mille cinq cent mètres. Ils trouvent une étendue libre de rochers et de glace, préparent le parapente biplace, et décollent. Les choses ne sont pas si simples, notamment car il est parfois difficile de trouver un site de lancement adapté. Ils gagnent rapidement en hauteur. Pendant les premiers jours, ils sentent les effets de l'altitude. Curieusement cependant, Aaron les sent uniquement aux cinq mille mètres, mais dès qu'il décolle il se sent mieux. Tamara ne les sent pas du tout, jusqu'au moment de décoller.
Le survol de ces vallées, accompagné de larges oiseaux de proie, est imprévisible. Aaron vit dans les Dolomites, son terrain de jeu. Il les connait si bien qu'il n'a pas même besoin de vérifier la météo. Ici par contre, tout est différent. C'est un peu comme remonter dans le temps. Il n'y a aucun moyen d'obtenir des prévisions météorologiques fiables, et le temps se développe différemment. Il convient d'être très prudent et d'éviter les situations dangereuses. Rester concentré, constamment évaluer et réévaluer la situation.

Gliding over these valleys, accompanied by large birds of prey, the flying is unpredictable. Aaron lives in the Dolomites, they are his playground. He knows them so well, he doesn’t even have to check the weather forecast. Here, well, everything is different. It feels like going back in time. There is no way to get a reliable forecast, and the weather develops differently. The sun sets on the long road leading down to Manali. Aaron and Tamara, their bellies full of paneer, have about an hour to go before they meet up with the jeep again. It’s not cold, at least it’s not as cold as up in the mountains. “It’s been a tough four weeks, Tamara. Though not bad for my first time at altitude. I think I will go back to flying over my local mountains, but it has been really worth it.” Aaron stops. He looks out over the remote landscape; scattered houses cling to the mountainside.
Tamara slows down, she turns around and stops. “Aaron, do you know what I liked best? Apart from flying over these mountains?” Tamara falls silent for a moment, as if to rearrange her ideas. She too looks back north, towards the valleys where they spent the last month, her gaze lost in nostalgia. “Not having an objective. We live such hectic lives, always in a rush, always with a project, a race, a peak, something in mind. Don’t get me wrong, I like it. It’s part of my life. I’m sure that you enjoy the challenges too. But being able to spend time like this, to follow the wind, this beautiful land, to choose our objectives depending on how we feel at that moment, and depending on how these places make us feel…That’s beyond comparison.” Aaron listens, he nods silently. Breathing in deeply, savouring that air for the last time, the feint scent of wood fires carried on the wind. He turns, and takes a couple steps to the south. “Si. Beyond comparison. You’re right Tamara. It’s been cool, but not just for this taste of freedom.” Aaron bends down and picks up a blade of grass, he watches it swaying in the wind for a moment. “I started flying very young. I know everything about what can be seen from my front door, and even the things you can’t see, for kilometres around. The trails, the names of the peaks, their elevation, the way the wind blows, the thermals. It’s beautiful, this is what is meant by “growth”: To be able to read what is in front of you for the perfect flight.” He pauses, the blade of grass changes direction. “There, all this knowledge makes me feel powerful, but also kind of old. It’s as if there’s no longer any room for astonishment. Here, the environment is so different, it’s a bit like going back to being a child. You have to learn to read what’s around you all over again, to know where you will end up. Where are the right conditions to take off? Will I have time to fly before it gets dark? It’s like going backwards to go forward… To remember that there is always something new out here, something unexplored, something wonderful. There will always be turns in the road, and you never know what might be waiting for you beyond them.” Everything is silent. Aaron and Tamara start walking again, one step at a time. There is still a way to go. In the distance, a bell rings and chanting can be heard.

“Aaron, do you know what I liked best? Apart from flying over these mountains?” Tamara falls silent for a moment, as if to rearrange her ideas. She too looks back north, towards the valleys where they spent the last month, her gaze lost in nostalgia. “Not having an objective. We live such hectic lives, always in a rush, always with a project, a race, a peak, something in mind. Don’t get me wrong, I like it. It’s part of my life. I’m sure that you enjoy the challenges too. But being able to spend time like this, to follow the wind, this beautiful land, to choose our objectives depending on how we feel at that moment…That’s beyond comparison.”
“Si. You’re right Tamara. It’s been cool, but not just for this taste of freedom. Here, the environment is so different, it’s a bit like going back to being a child. To remember that there is always something new out here, something unexplored, something wonderful.

Le soleil se couche sur la longue route menant vers Manali. Aaron et Tamara, le ventre plein de paneer, ont environ une heure avant leur rendez-vous avec le jeep. Il ne fait pas froid, tout du moins pas aussi froid que dans les montagnes.
« Ces quatre semaines ont été rudes, Tamara. Mais pas mal pour ma première fois en altitude. Je pense que je vais retourner au vol dans mes montagnes locales, mais cela en a réellement valu la peine. » Aaron s'arrête. Il scrute le paysage lointain ; des maisons éparpillées s'accrochent au flanc de la montagne. On voit des lumières au loin, les premiers feux allumés. Il contemple les vallées, dans lesquelles il n'a vu presque personne pendant des semaines. Dans lesquelles ils ont dormi sur le sol, se sont lavés dans des rivières, chaque fois qu'ils le pouvaient.
Tamara ralentit, se retourne et s'arrête. « Aaron, tu sais ce que j'ai préféré ? Mis à part survoler ces montagnes ? » Tamara se tait un instant. Elle aussi lance son regard vers le nord, vers les vallées où ils ont passé un mois entier, l'air nostalgique. « Ne pas avoir d'objectif. Nous vivons des vies tellement mouvementées, toujours pressés, toujours avec un projet en vue, une course, un sommet, une idée en tête. Ne me méprends pas, j'aime ça. Cela fait partie de ma vie. Je suis sûre que tu apprécies aussi ces défis. Mais j'aime pouvoir passer du temps comme ça, au gré du vent et de ces terres magnifiques. Pouvoir choisir nos objectifs selon ce que nous éprouvons à ce moment précis, et selon ce que cet endroit nous fait ressentir... c'est un sentiment incomparable. »
Aaron écoute, acquiesçant en silence. Il respire profondément, savourant cet air pour la dernière fois, la légère odeur des feux de bois transportée par le vent. Il se retourne et fait deux pas vers le sud. « Oui. Un sentiment incomparable. Tu as raison, Tamara. Cela a été génial, mais pas uniquement pour ce goût de liberté. » Aaron se baisse et ramasse un brin d'herbe. Il le regarde onduler au gré du vent pendant un moment.
« J'ai commencé à voler très jeune. Je connais tout ce que l'on peut voir depuis ma porte d'entrée, et même tout ce que l'on ne peut pas voir, à des kilomètres à la ronde. Les sentiers, le nom des sommets, leur hauteur, la direction du vent, les thermiques. C'est beau, c'est ce que signifie « grandir » : Être capable d'interpréter ce qui se passe devant nous pour un vol parfait. » Il pause, le brin d'herbe change de direction.

« Là-bas, toutes ces connaissances me font ressentir une certaine puissance, mais c'est aussi un peu étrange. Comme si il n'y avait plus de place pour l'émerveillement. Ici, l'environnement est si différent, c'est un peu comme redevenir enfant. Il faut réapprendre à lire ce qui nous entoure pour savoir où cela va nous mener. Quelles sont les bonnes conditions de décollage ? Aurai-je le temps de voler avant que la nuit tombe ? C'est comme faire marche arrière pour mieux avancer... Se souvenir qu'il y a toujours quelque chose de nouveau quelque part, encore inexploré, quelque chose de merveilleux. Il y aura toujours des virages sur le chemin, et on ne sait jamais ce qui nous attend au tournant. » Silence. Aaron et Tamara reprennent la marche, un pas après l'autre. Il reste encore un bout de chemin à faire. Une cloche sonne au loin, accompagnée de chants.

- AARON DUROGATI -

BEYOND COMPARISON

Hey, Tamara, how do you say “Have you got any paneer?”
“Don’t worry Aaron… we’ll be able to make people understand

“Hey, Tamara, how do you say “Have you got any paneer?”
“Don’t worry Aaron… we’ll be able to make people understand us.”
Aaron Durogati and Tamara Lunger are looking for paneer, a typical cheese found in India and Pakistan. It’s made by curdling fresh milk with vinegar, lemon juice, or yoghurt and is one of the best sources of protein around here. “Around here” is a remote area beyond the Rohtang Pass, in the Pir Panjal Range of the Himachal Pradesh Himalayas, in Northern India. Dinesh mumbles something, nods vigorously and disappears for a moment below the counter of his little store. There is the noise of objects being moved around and someone banging their head. A few flies scatter, annoyed. Dinesh re-emerges, smiling, holding two large fresh cheeses. “See?” says Tamara, rummaging in her pack for rupees “When you want to buy cheese, you can always make yourself understood one way or another”. Aaron and Tamara sit outside, by the road. They sink their teeth into the paneer. It’s not fresh mozzarella, and it’s not even very clean, but at that moment it is the most delicious thing in the world. They are heading for Manali, on foot. Tired, but happy, they’re on their way back home after a strange trip that has been neither a holiday, nor an expedition.

It all started back in September. One week after the ‘Red Bull Dolomitenmann’ – the hardest relay race in the world that involves running, paragliding, mountain biking and kayaking, held in the mountains around Lienz, Austria. Aaron won with the best paragliding time, so he deserved some time off. The plan was a simple one. Pick a rough destination with no fixed agenda, stay out as long as possible, climb some mountains and fly a bit – have a real adventure. Tamara is the perfect partner. She’s a strong alpinist, happy at high altitude, and she has flying experience. September 15: Aaron and Tamara arrive in New Delhi. A driver is waiting for them. They travel by jeep for two days to get to the Rohtang Pass. The jeep is their only point of reference for a month. From here on in it’s time to let the adventures roll. They set out early in the morning, climbing with no definite summit or level of performance in mind. Aaron and Tamara go where they want, depending on how they feel and what they want to do. They arrange a rendezvous with the driver, and head off into the hills. The valleys lie at four thousand metres. They climb to six thousand, six thousand five hundred. Finding a patch free from rock and ice, they prepare the tandem paraglider, and take off. Things aren’t always straightforward, not least because it’s sometimes difficult to find a suitable launch site. They gain height quickly. During the first few days they feel the effects of the altitude. Bizarrely though, Aaron only feels it above five thousand metres, but as soon as he takes off he feels better. Tamara doesn’t feel it, until she starts flying. Gliding over these valleys, accompanied by large birds of prey, the flying is un-predictable. Aaron lives in the Dolomites, they are his playground. He knows them so well, he doesn’t even have to check the weather forecast. Here, well, everything is different. It feels like going back in time. There is no way to get a reliable forecast, and the weather develops differently. You have to be very careful to avoid dangerous situations. Staying focused, constantly assessing and reassessing the situation.

The sun sets on the long road leading down to Manali. Aaron and Tamara, their bellies full of paneer, have about an hour to go before they meet up with the jeep again. It’s not cold, at least it’s not as cold as up in the mountains. It’s been a tough four weeks, Tamara. Though not bad for my first time at altitude. I think I will go back to flying over my local mountains, but it has been really worth it.” Aaron stops. He looks out over the remote landscape; scattered houses cling to the mountainside. There are lights in the distance, the first fires. He looks back, at the valleys where they hardly saw anyone for weeks. Where they slept on the ground, washing themselves in streams, whenever they could. Tamara slows down, she turns around and stops. “Aaron, do you know what I liked best? Apart from flying over these mountains?” Tamara falls silent for a moment, as if to rearrange her ideas. She too looks back north, towards the valleys where they spent the last month, her gaze lost in nostalgia. “Not having an objective. We live such hectic lives, always in a rush, always with a project, a race, a peak, something in mind. Don’t get me wrong, I like it. It’s part of my life. I’m sure that you enjoy the challenges too. But being able to spend time like this, to follow the wind, this beautiful land, to choose our objectives depending on how we feel at that moment, and depending on how these places make us feel…That’s beyond comparison.” Aaron listens, he nods silently. Breathing in deeply, savouring that air for the last time, the feint scent of wood fires carried on the wind. He turns, and takes a couple steps to the south. “Si. Beyond comparison. You’re right Tamara. It’s been cool, but not just for this taste of freedom.” Aaron bends down and picks up a blade of grass, he watches it swaying in the wind for a moment. “I started flying very young. I know everything about what can be seen from my front door, and even the things you can’t see, for kilometres around. The trails, the names of the peaks, their elevation, the way the wind blows, the thermals. It’s beautiful, this is what is meant by “growth”: To be able to read what is in front of you for the perfect flight.” He pauses, the blade of grass changes direction.

“There, all this knowledge makes me feel powerful, but also kind of old. It’s as if there’s no longer any room for astonishment. Here, the environment is so different, it’s a bit like going back to being a child. You have to learn to read what’s around you all over again, to know where you will end up. Where are the right conditions to take off? Will I have time to fly before it gets dark? It’s like going backwards to go forward… To remember that there is always something new out here, something unexplored, something wonderful. There will always be turns in the road, and you never know what might be waiting for you beyond them.” Everything is silent. Aaron and Tamara start walking again, one step at a time. There is still a way to go. In the distance, a bell rings and chanting can be heard.