Chasing Saramati: A family’s journey to the ‘Roof of Nagaland’

This is a first in a three-part series on the author’s visit to Mount Saramati.

“Okay, so I am going to tell you something, but please keep it to yourselves for now”, I told my two sisters once we were on our way. “It is possible that after I reach the base camp I will stay back there while the rest of you summit. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be very happy to even reach base camp and hang around there. I’m sure it’ll be beautiful there too”. I quickly added, “but of course, I will try my best to also summit”. 

A trek to Mount Saramati in Kiphire district of Nagaland had long been on my bucket list. Standing at 3826 meters (12,552 ft) above sea level it is the highest mountain peak in the state of Nagaland. I knew people trekked to the mountain.

I had not done much research and I also knew I might be biting off more than I could chew, but I was determined to try. Like I said, I was happy to even loiter around in the base camp. It was the beautiful month of April.

After a hectic financial year, I was on the longish leave. I surely did not want to spend the precious leave without doing something a bit out of the ordinary. 

“You all really must consider coming for the trek. We your sisters are not getting any younger, and this may be the last opportunity for us all to trek together” I tried to emotionally blackmail my cousin brothers.

A few years ago, some of us had trekked to the scenic Dzukuo Valley, also in Nagaland, and had a wonderful time camping for two nights in a cave in the valley. I reminded them of that. It would be even better in Mount Saramati, I told them. 

They did not need much convincing. The Kamei brothers and sisters always found time for each other and cherished spending time together.

They set about making plans to shut shop for a day or two, delegated tasks for dropping and picking up their children from school etc. Some brothers of the family had to sacrifice and stay behind. Most of the women were either unable or incapable.

My aunt was worried for our safety but uncle was happy to see us “adventuring” together. A month earlier, I had created a WhatsApp group and added several friends and family members who I thought would be interested. I had also shared a few pictures from the internet. Everyone wanted to go. Ultimately, only a few were
“chosen” by life. We set about making a carefully thought-out list of items lists of things to do, carry or buy.

One’s own body alone would be quite a weight, let alone carrying additional stuff. We re-confirmed bookings in the guest house, porters and guides et cetera in Thanamir village. Jerrycans of petrol and diesel were filled. 

It was a five-day plan. Early on a monday morning, eight of us, three cousin brothers, a brother-in-law, a driver and two of my sisters and I had breakfast of hot puris and aloo sabzi in our home in Kohima, Nagaland and after a blessing prayer from my dear 85 year-old mother, we set off at 7.20 am.

I had briefed my mother about the trek the previous evening, sitting by the fireplace in our living room. She was happy for us. My mother would have happily accompanied us, had she been a few years younger. Her spirit, ever willing was stronger than all of us put together. 

We took two vehicles. A sturdy Mahindra Bolero and a Renault Duster. The drive from Kohima to Thanamir Village in Kiphiri district was expected to take 7 to 8 hours as per our research. We hoped to get there well before sunset. Thanamir village is the apple capital of the state.

I had seen a YouTube video of the 15th edition of the state level apple festival which was celebrated on 10th September in 2024. The apple harvest starts from the month of July to August. I was to learn later in Thanamir that there was also a variety which was harvested in the month of December. I looked forward to see the apple orchards in full bloom.

On reaching Thanamir we saw that they were already in fruit. We had missed the blooms. The apple journey in Thanamir apparently began in the late 1970s. A local villager Yongphukhuing planted three saplings gifted by an Assam Rifles soldier and cultivated them without training. This “fruit of friendship” turned into a thriving organic industry, which now produces 40 to 50 tonnes annually.

They are now commonly known as the Saramati apples, branded after the Saramati peak. 

Thanamir village located near the Myanmar border is situated at 2000 meters above sea level and serves as the base village for trekking to Mount Saramati. The nearest airport is in Dimapur, approximately 310 kms away and the nearest town is Kiphire approximately 83 kms.

The drive from Kohima took us through several villages in Nagaland and Manipur as we crossed rivers demarcating state boundaries. The roads were mostly black topped but there were bad patches every now and then.

At around 1 pm we stopped in Meluri town in the newly created district by the same name. We had a hearty lunch and purchased some local products like rock salt, dried river fish, dried mushrooms and dried collard beans (a favourite of mine), to take back home.

About 26 kms beyond Meluri, the black topping ended. The highway is work in progress. In a couple of years, I earnestly hope, for the people of Kiphire district and specifically for the people of Thanamir village and all visitors that the roads will be entirely black topped. An hour or so after Meluri, we missed the turn in the road for a village called Pungro and ended up taking the longer route to Thanamir Village.

We were too far gone by the time we found out and decided not to turn back to get back on track. This route was more or less like a dirt track. Dozens of huge potholes and deep ruts extended our travel by at least two hours.

The Bolero managed rather well but the Duster got several spine-chilling bottom scrapes. We sisters were stiff with the tension of mental driving and ‘lightweight sitting’.

On this stretch we noticed many cabins on the sides of the road. Walled with local planks of wood and tin roofs I assumed they were store houses for lumber from the local forests. I was to be later told that those are most likely ‘houses’ ‘constructed’ to claim compensation for land taken for the road construction.

I wonder what the truth is. I had wanted to stop and peek into a few to see what they contained. I wish I’d had. That would have answered the questions we had. 

After a beautiful golden sunset, darkness fell. Mr. Manaseh the caretaker in the guest house in Thanamir with whom we were in touch, telephonically informed us that once we reached the bridge, we would be in Thanamir.

It was pitch dark by then. As our vehicles wove in and out of hairpin bends, we sighted patches of lights on distant hill tops which we thought was Thanamir.

Many more hills were crossed but Thanamir was not in sight. It took quite a while to get to the promised bridge. Even after we crossed the bridge, it was another one and a half hours before reaching Thanamir.

I made a mental note to request Manaseh to correct his directions in future. We reached the hill top village of Thanamir and saw it illuminated by bright solar powered lamps.

This was encouraging. We rolled down our windows. The air was crisp and cold. It was peacefully quiet. The milky way was visible! I realised I was not tired. Almost like a final nail in the coffin, the last stretch of a few hundred meters of the road to the guest house was excruciatingly hard on the vehicles.

The Duster got stuck in a deep rut made by truck tyres. A couple of helpful villagers seeing our plight, voluntarily came and pushed the vehicle. I got down and lent a finger and moral support, pushing it out of the ditch and up the road.

I walked the last few metres to the guest house. We reached the guest house in Thanamir at 7:20 pm. It had been a 12-hour journey from Kohima to Thanamir. 

The guest house was a pleasant surprise. We had seen pictures of the guest house, and it had looked promising, though I had cautioned myself not to be too hopeful.

Rather pessimistically, I had prepared myself for a rundown, not so well-maintained guest house. A sign at the door said “No shoes inside please”. Nice.

We were informed by the caretaker that the guest house was run by the Nagaland Baptist Churches’ Council (NBCC). Manaseh was posted there and was an employee of Nagaland Missionary Movement (NMM).

God bless the mission movement. Linoleum carpets on the floor, curtains on doors and windows, doormats, indoor slippers and minimalistic but sufficiently clean rooms, some with attached bathrooms.

We girls happily occupied a room with three single beds and an attached bathroom. The boys distributed themselves in two rooms. In the common middle room, there was a sign on a wooden shelf that read ‘free parking for shoes’.

We had a good laugh over it. That reminded us to bring in our shoes and ‘park’ it on the shelf lest they were stolen/taken away in the night.

Hot cups of tea and baths with generous buckets of solar heated water and a hearty dinner by the fireside restored our spirits and energy. 

We bombarded Manaseh with questions about the trek, base camp, the weather, terrain, porters, guides and such matters.

Is base camp a structure with four walls and a roof I enquired hopefully? The answer was yes. Back at home, we had animated discussions on how to tackle the leeches.

Salt, some said. Pungent wet tobacco, others had said. Leeches and rain in the cold wind was what we had dreaded the most.

To our great relief we were informed that there were no leeches. Halleluyah! We now prayed for a bonus of rain free four days ahead. We said our goodnights and slept soundly. 

I had imagined the journey to base camp to be a nice short drive from Thanamir village. That imagination was abruptly nipped in the bud.

We were told the trek to base camp starts from the guest house and that most trekkers took five to six hours to reach base camp. We were not ‘most people’. 

The climb began the moment we stepped out of the guest house compound.

There was no gentle introduction, no leisurely walk to warm up. The trail rose immediately into the mountains.

Our personal belongings and common supplies were divided among four porters, while senior guide Thuviki Tsonger carefully examined every item to ensure only the essentials were carried. Everything else was left behind in Thanamir.

The boys carried their own backpacks, with thermocol bedrolls strapped vertically to them. Thuviki promptly ordered the rolls to be cut shorter, explaining that they could easily snag on branches and rocky outcrops along the narrow trail. It was our first lesson in mountain practicality.

At 9.20 am, accompanied by two local guides, we finally set off for base camp. The porters, we were told, would move ahead of us and prepare dinner before we arrived. It sounded almost luxurious. We would soon discover that nothing about the trek itself would be easy.

Dressed in layers, with trouser legs tucked neatly into our socks, walking sticks in hand and optimism in abundance, we began climbing. The sturdy cane staffs rented from the village church women’s society quickly proved invaluable.

What seemed like simple walking sticks would become trusted companions on steep ascents, rocky descents and narrow ridges.

Within a few hundred metres, some of us were already breathless.

I paused for a moment and looked back towards Thanamir. The village lay quietly behind us, its apple orchards and rooftops slowly disappearing from view. Ahead stretched the mountains of Saramati — vast, mysterious and far more formidable than I had imagined.

There was no turning back now.

The real adventure had finally begun.

Views expressed are that of the author. The author is an officer at the Indian Revenue Service.

In Part II: Through Rhododendron Kingdoms to Nagaland’s Highest Peak, the team enters ancient mountain forests, navigates treacherous ridges and pushes towards the summit of Mount Saramati.

Also Read: Kaziranga emerges as global haven for threatened raptors and storks