Across the Makra Top - A Hike from Muzaffarabad to Shogran

It was a damp early July morning. The journey to Muzzaffarabad was exciting but was only a mild precursor to the ecstasy that was in store. An exception was the usual spewing of our mate ‘Dandy’ that was not as tormenting as the fact that the inventory of the lime was fast depleting that required continuous replenishment. But if history was any witness and on our side by any chance, it would cease, for sure, as soon as we would hit the base of the mountain and breath in the fresh air with our rucksacks firmly secured to our bodies like life jackets.

There was thrill and passion in the air. Maps and diaries were spread on the table and plans were chalked out. All the relevant information was cajoled out of the locals while the capricious monsoon weather was being eyed suspiciously. Rucksacks stuffed with basic necessities were getting heavier by the minute. Soon it was time to move. ‘Romeo’ was being desperately missed on the trip, who had to choose between the two equally tempting options, and the balance eventually accentuated and skewed relentlessly in the favour of his ‘date’ during the decisive moments, when it mattered the most.

The three of us embarked upon an open jeep that would carry us to a heavenly spot shrouded by densely covered mountains in a few hours. Moving at a snail’s pace, the jeep tootled through the beautiful scenery along the rollicking river Neelum. Sixteen kilometers from Azad Kashmir’s capital, a narrow metalled road diverged into the steep mountains, from a place called Khori. Ascending steeply, it probed and penetrated into the depths of the luxurious green environs that provided an insight into the serene valleys and rustic lifestyle of their inhabitants. The winding route served as the lifeline for the region that comprised a number of closely knitted clusters of dwellings. A flowing expanse of dense green was visible universally. Valleys were generally broader at lower altitudes and overflowing with manifestation of raw beauty, thankfully oblivious to the menaces of commercial and civic intrusion-one of the rare sights in Pakistan. The meandering jeep track bisected several villages including picturesque Bashash on its way to exquisitely delightful twin settlements of Raj Kot & Raj Payian. Separated by a ferocious stream, the two villages stood facing each other on the mounds dominated by swaying corn fields. These villages were connected by means of a strikingly beautiful wooden bridge. A couple of kiosks and shops, the last supply points on the route, accounted for some very basic utilities and merchandise. Terrain changed progressively and so did the vegetation cover as the journey continued. Broad valleys of lower Neelum valley featuring undulating fields gradually paved way for narrow gourges, rich meadows, gentle slopes and steep cliffs as we gained elevation. The jeep track negotiated a couple of steep hairpin bends & advanced a few kilometers further up to the villages of Jabri & Ghana. Located amidst thick alpines and conifers comfortably above 5000 ft ASL, was the terminal point of the jeep track.



Adventure Foundation didn’t prove much of a help but we had done our bit to satisfaction during the planning stages. Nestled among the luxurious green mountains, high and low, was located the starting point of our hike, the village of Ghana.

As usual, ‘Leader’ was the first one to leap out and scramble up the steep hill without a warning leaving us both mesmerized and helpless behind him. First leg of the hike was amazing and promising at the same time. Threading our way through the bushes and rampant natural growth, we ended up close to a meandering murmuring stream. The trek curled round the stream following steep and gradual ascending grades. On a couple of occasions, we had to cross the stream balancing ourselves on the big slippery boulders, demanding a bit of acrobatic skill but a lot more of courage. By early evening, a couple of hours walk through lovely landscape led us to the confluence of two major streams at a place called Domail. With its roaring appeal and abundance of water, it remained inhibited by shepherds during the brief summers.

The towering Makra peak stared down with all its majestic splendour and grandeur as we camped at the pastures of Domail. ‘Dandy’ was quick and kind to serve instant noodles and refreshing coffee. Hospitable and humble locals offered boiled eggs and tea. Night, under the bright stars and moon was calm and peaceful.

Following day initiated with a tramp over another steep hill and across the village. It was a demanding hike as we trudged up the twisting spiral trail across the saddles rising from one hill to the other. There were intermittent bands of thick and thin forest strips; Cluster of weeds and prodigious greenery at certain stretches while scattered bushes at others.

Midway into our hike, we were caught in rain and had to seek refuge under the big burly trees. Raincoats and waterproof jackets were pulled out in a flash and rucksacks tugged into the relatively dry patches. Much to our respite, we were accompanied by a couple of locals at that time who deftly lighted a big fire just by means of tiny pieces of dry wood. Temperature fell drastically and water trickled down accumulating into an enormous muddy run off that flowed in a temporary channel that was dry only minutes ago.

As the showers ceased in sometime, we plodded along the sharp contours attaining elevation quickly. A colossal effort ultimately brought us to a huge and fabulous plateau, all cloaked in bright green and sprawling in all directions. Located at quite an elevation, just at the tree line, the amazing plane is called ‘Makri’. Overlooking lush green valleys, cascades and streams, jutting out like an enormous verdant sheet radiating in almost all directions against the backdrop of sharply soaring profile of gigantic Makra, it serves as a vantage point affording breathtaking views of the surroundings. Owing to its inaccessibility, captivating and peculiar environment, ‘Makri’ stands out as one of the most mesmerizing places of upper Neelum valley.

The naturally gifted rich spot had all the ingredients and potential for an excellent camping site but owing to an early start we still had ample time at our hands and were keen to continue with our endeavour despite a drizzle. Things turned challenging and a bit strenuous. A convoluted narrow path weaved round the precipice, rising and falling intermittently sticking resolutely yet precariously to the vertically reposed face of the mountain led us to the far end. Makra peak appeared more vulnerable but not any less gigantic even from that point.



The last bit was a worthwhile effort but not without its due share of scary episodes. Worst being the moment when the ‘Leader’ lost his balance on the oozing muddy trek but had the presence of mind to grab the bushes to restore his balance. Watching him flop made me shriek and slip simultaneously. Needless to say that ‘Dandy’ chimed in the chorus too only to resonate and prolong the lingering screams. Luckily, the next moment, all of us had recovered and were trudging in pursuit of our next destination.

Thankfully by mid afternoon, we ended up at a lovely overhanging plateau above the tree line. Quaint make shift wooden houses and a wooden structure meant to be a mosque were the brief signs of life in the wilderness. Wild flowers and green turned auburn grassy patches were the only flora and fauna that could sustain the extreme conditions despite heavy precipitation. Water was available nearby and we had our meal.



A sharp incline rose right upto the Makra top from the point where we were stationed. Locals had pitched stone piles at every few hundred meters along the contour to make things easier. There were still a couple of hours at our disposal but we were as resolute upon calling it a day as the ‘Leader’ was adamant upon striving further. Not something unusual. But highly unusual was the fact that the common sense finally prevailed. A bit of bickering, bitching and finally arguing to convince our callous leader and that was it. Surprising and unbelievable! Perhaps one of its kind, the day was destined to go into the history books for being remembered and cited for the years to come, whereby for a change, we somehow evaded making complete asses and mules of ourselves. Of course there was a price to pay. We were duly reprimanded and the point that we desperately needed to enhance our fitness levels was brought home for the millionth time. But who would mind turning a deaf ear to a well-orated sermon? A desperate and last-ditch effort aimed at chastising a couple of indifferent idiots went down the drain peacefully.



Whether the ‘Leader’ had succumbed to some logical reasoning, which is highly unlikely, or was overawed by the sublime charm of the place, it mattered least in the end. We pitched our tent and wallowed in the tranquil atmosphere and exotic weather for the rest of the day.

If the day was charming the evening was sublime. Perched at such elevation, we could steal a spellbinding view of Muzaffarabad far below at a distance. A constellation of tiny illuminated specks, engulfed by a halo with hazy outline suspended in the air, that glistened like pearls and gems close to the base marked the conspicuous town.

Well aware that there wouldn’t be any respite above tree line in case of a rain we started early in the morning under overcast and murky conditions. The last strive was slightly tough that demanded toiling along the steep face of the mountain. Mist shrouded the landscape mostly suspended below eye level. Intermittently laid piles of stones provided a good guideline as the hike continued more or less along a straight line. Buzzing wind was soothing and refreshing but chilling at the same time. A walk of about two and half hours finally carried us to the top.



Makra is a huge top with the skyline stretching for miles. The view from an imposing height (3885 meters, 12,744ft ASL ) was amazing. As we stood at the borderline of Neelum and Kaghan valleys, we watched the beautiful sparsely snow covered slopes radiate in diverse directions. A spectrum of varying colours was visible enveloping meadows of Paya and plateau of Shogran far below. Glimpses of ‘Malka Parbat’ (highest peak of Kaghan valley) and ‘Musa Mat’ together with contrasting landscapes of splendid Neelum valley and marvelous Kaghan valley were resounding.

We drifted along the rocky and stony path going down the huge mass of the mountain. It descended into a lovely pasture and turned round a beautiful stream bisecting the field. Slope abruptly changed to gentle and an overwhelming fresh green hue seized domination. The rest was more of a regulatory walk that finally terminated the lifetime experience at the scintillating and lively planes of popular tourist resort of ‘Paya’.