Manali, India, by far the most picturesque and serene place in the Indian Himalaya, is a haven for skiers. The slopes that rise majestically above Manali—Solang Nullah, Rohtang Pass and Sethan Dome, to name a few—boast some of the best powder on the planet. If not the best.
There’s only one problem: except for one J-bar that shuttles skiers up a modest slope in Solang, there are no ski lifts.
The well-heeled skier for years has had the option of heli-skiing. But at around U.S. $7,000 per week, the average ski bum will never be able to enjoy that ultimate adventure sport.
So locals and hard-core powder lovers from around the world tackle the slopes on foot, schlepping their skis up the mountain.
Of course when you have to walk hours uphill in altitude to ski, most of your energy goes into merely reaching the slope. The ride down, while glorious, is still diminished.
Himanshu Sharma, a local whose father owns Himalayan Journeys, the most reputable adventure sports operation, in Manali, is spear-heading a solution: Himalayan Ski Village (HSV), the first world-class ski resort to grace the high Himalaya.
Himanshu grew up on skis. His dad, Iqbal, was a racer. Having lived in Switzerland for three years where he trained to become an internationally certified ski instructor, Himanshu returned to Manali to face one of his biggest dilemmas: the older he gets (he’s only 31), the less enthusiastic he is about walking his skis up the hill.
Eleven years ago his father began planting the seeds for HSV. His vision was to build a ski resort that could compete with Zermatt, Whistler, Vail and Lake Tahoe. Now that dream is a mere two years (or less) away from being realized.
Anyone who’s traveled to the subcontinent knows the paradox of India: things move at glacial speed, yet all things are possible. That’s it’s taken Iqbal a decade to see the birth of HSV is a testament to both.
The Indian locals I’ve observed are tireless workers. Most work 12-hour days, seven days a week. They’re often handcuffed in efforts to make substantial strides in their lives: local governments are notoriously corrupt, quality materials in any form are hard to come by, hell, the electricity goes out several times a day. Middle-class Indians straddle two worlds—the lure of prosperity and comfort of western countries, and the tradition, culture and general wackiness of India.
This year HSV began training more than 70 locals as ski instructors, ski patrol and avalanche specialists. The Sharmas imported top talent from around the world—snow experts from Finland, Lyle and Robin, avalanche specialists from Canada, ski instructors from Switzerland and Japan.
John Sims, an American ex-pat, is the managing director of HSV. He’s the guy who came up with seed money and investors. Years ago, when he was still living in America, Sims sold the first group of resorts he developed to Hyatt. He’s a guy who knows how to get things done, even in India.
I first heard about HSV when I was trekking above Manali last spring. My initial reaction was negative. The Himalaya that surround Manali are pristine. Hindus believe these mountains are the abode of the gods. Kullu Valley, in which Manali lies, is known as the Valley of the Gods and the End of the Habitable World. It seemed sacrilegious to build resorts on these sacred mountains.
On the other hand, why shouldn’t India capitalize on one of its greatest natural resources the way Europe has on the Alps and the U.S. the Rockies and Sierra Nevada? Everest is strewn with garbage. Why should the Indian Himalaya remain the last unspoilt spot on earth?
HSV promises to be a magical place. The people building it truly love their mountains. They just want to be able to ski on them with a modicum of comfort. They’re doing everything in their power to balance creating a viable ski resort with preserving the local environment.
Local traditions and customs will be integrated with the snow sports. Imagine beginning your ski day with yoga and meditation (optional, of course). HSV will offer a range accommodations, all of which will be built emulating mountain architecture.
Most importantly the locals will prosper from HSV, which is committed to culling at least 70 percent of its employees locally.
I’ll miss tiny little closed-for-the-winter Manali when it turns into the Aspen of India. I’m already worried my favorite hotels—Negi’s Mayflower, Holiday Inn Resort and Johnson’s Lodge—will be eternally booked or too expensive for me. Because Manali is currently a spring and summer destination (trekking, white water rafting, paragliding, rock-climbing, horseback riding, jeep safaris, mountaineering, cycling and fishing), I enjoyed enormous discounts at all three places. That will end when HSV opens.
But I figure I still have another season of amazing affordability in Manali. Since I’m a leisurely skier, I don’t have far to walk up to enjoy a challenging whoosh down. Plus, when I ski in Sethan with the HSV trainees, one of them always offers to carry my skis for me.
Even if they hadn’t offered to carry my skis, I would have been impressed with the kids training for HSV’s imminent opening. When the slope they’d been using proved too icy for skiing, one young man trudged off on his own, closely followed by Robin, the Canadian avalanche expert, to find a more suitable slope. All of the trainees, regardless of their natural athletic ability, ski with impeccable, enviable form.
When HSV opens, I’ll mourn the loss of my sleepy, budget-priced Manali. But I’m really looking forward to receiving Swiss quality ski instruction at what will still be Indian prices.
