RockTrailSleep: The Birth of a Rural Climbing Community in Northern India

RTS is using climbing as means for meditation, reflection, and healing

By Rob Kyte | January 12, 2022

As the worldwide climbing community continues to grow and evolve, athletes within the culture are constantly innovating and reinventing both themselves and the sport as a whole. The development of removable gear used to climb big walls, bolted sport climbing at grades previously thought impossible, unprotected short-wall bouldering, and the wildfire-like spread of climbing gyms across the world have, all together, launched a once-fringe, counter-culture activity practiced largely by outcasts and vagabonds all the way to official recognition as an Olympic sport. While climbers have often kept their goals and aspirations somewhat contained within the climbing community (save a few notable exceptions), Olympic status now gives climbers yet another way to push the boundaries of success in the sport. 

What those within the community will often tell you, however, is that despite its meteoric rise in the last few decades, climbing has somehow retained its bohemian personality and sense of self-sufficiency. Climbers’ goals receive the same amount of respect within the community no matter how lofty or seemingly unattainable, because those who hold it near and dear know that increasing sustainability, accessibility, and equity are what will contribute to its longevity and continue to set it apart from other sports. This theme is common throughout climbing communities worldwide. 

The climbing culture in Northern India is no different. Climbers from around the world descend annually upon the mountains of Northern India, for a chance to realize their dreams and summit some of the world’s tallest mountains. For many in India and neighboring regions, however, such as Pakistan and Nepal, climbing is more than a hobby—it is a job and a way of life, necessary to put food on the table.

Nonetheless, the meditative spirit of climbing, the self-discipline it demands, and the fact that it’s just plain fun has not been squashed by the commercialization of the Himalaya. Just south of Himachal Pradesh, where the Dalai Lama currently resides in exile from Tibet, is the state of Uttarakhand where, perched on a ridge in the Himalayan foothills, the capital, Almora, has become home to a nascent climbing community pioneered by Siddhartha Chattopadhyay, founder of RockTrailSleep (RTS). 

The name ‘RockTrailSleep’ is a combination of both places and states of being that Chattopadhyay finds enriching to the human experience: “Rock and Trail is evident as the name suggests … Sleep, aside from being the best medicine for our bodies ... is also a good way to disconnect from the world and be with yourself. I believe it is a very good state for our mental, physical, and spiritual wellbeing.”

Through RTS, climbers are developing crags and putting up new routes, while also making climbing popular and accessible in a new community. Despite the wealth of climbing available (and likely yet to be discovered) in the region, at RTS, the goals are kept simple for those new to the sport. Among them: “Climb your first rock.”

Chattopadhyay grew up in Almora which, according to him, was a once-small town that has grown significantly in recent years. He began climbing in 2016, and in 2019 began working at a gym in South Delhi called BoulderBox, working there until closure due to COVID-19 forced him to return home to Almora in 2020. There, he took the skills he had learned during his time at BoulderBox and began climbing around his hometown with friends Vikrant Bhandari and Jitendra Singh: “I was happy to share my experiences and skills with them, and they got hooked … That said, there wasn’t much in the beginning, the idea was just to go out and climb as much as we could.”

Nonetheless, Chattopadhyay and his friends were planting the seeds of a developing climbing community. Soon after they began logging climbs around Almora and looking for new boulders, Chattopadhyay and other climbers initiated discussions about how to bring something back to the people in the region as an alternative form of sport and education—“something that we didn’t have while growing up.” The vision for RockTrailSleep had begun to form. 

RTS now teaches workshops, designing personal curricula around those who wish to be introduced to the sport. “The model for workshops is pretty straight forward,” explains Chattopadhyay. “We now have an infrastructure [and] documented climbs that we have developed over time, close to 100 routes. And there are about five or six locations. Currently, we only work with bouldering and top rope workshops as far as skills go. The workshops are only designed for those just getting started. The cost associated with workshops is at 800 INR per person, which is about 10 USD, for a 120 minute long session.”

By nature, climbing is a deeply personal endeavor made unique by the physical challenge it presents, an often-methodical approach, and addictive and rewarding body movements, often fostered by an environment of unrelenting support. In most instances, to climb safely requires that at least one other person be there, either to spot or belay. Thus, climbing inevitably births friendships founded on trust, respect, mutual support, and a shared appreciation for the natural spaces where climbing takes place. 

Still, Chattopadhyay reveals that the growth of his community came somewhat unexpectedly, but the potential early on was evident nonetheless. “I returned [home] because I wanted to create a space for something that I believe is pure and incorruptible,” he shares. “I believe it is a great magnet for those trying to question, unravel, and understand things pertaining to our existence. It has been a meditative process for me and it helps me stay grounded. It also helps me discern the real from the superficial.” Speaking on how it has proven valuable to his friends and community, Chattopadhyay suspects that it holds the same allure to them as it originally did for him: “[it is] a meditative and reflective ground, so to speak.”

As an instructor, Chattopadhyay has come to understand the nuances of climbing’s ups and downs. He reflects on a particular instance where Ishaan, a student of his, was struggling continually with a boulder problem: 

“The problem starts on a crimp and then progresses to a long left hand extension on to a sloper. He did the shorter version of it, starting at the sloper. He kept falling off of the first move. I was watching him, he was a bit frustrated. There are times when you need cheering and then there are times when you should be alone. I left the site and asked him to just have his moment with the wall. Shortly after, he was able to finish the climb. It brought me so much joy to see him do that.”

(Left) Vikrant Bhandari on “Crimp Eater”. Photo: Pradyuman. (Right) Ishaan on “Beyond the Clouds.” Photo: Pushkar Negi

The success of RTS, however, is in direct contrast to what Chattopadhyay refers to as a “culture of depravity,” in the wider community, rooted in “a singular, selfish perspective that eliminates and disregards everything that is not ours.” Litter, for example, has become a widespread problem in Almora, a place once known as the cultural capital of Kumaon, attracting visitors from around the world who sought to absorb its wealth of spiritual knowledge. According to Chattopadhyay, over the last three or four decades, greed and consumerism, coupled with an “abject poverty of morals, values, and ethics” have slowly begun to plague his home region. 

“This is one of the reasons why our roads fall apart every single time it rains, our government officials don’t work unless bribed, and the rich steal water while villagers suffer. The modus operandi, evidently, in this little town of ours, which also acts as a microcosm of our society at large, is simple: ‘take what you can and leave.’”

Upon his return to his home village, Chattopadhyay saw the potential for a formalized climbing organization to bring healing and reconciliation to a community losing sight of its values. “When we climb and get together, there’s something that happens. We become more aware as individuals and of those around us. The rock or the problem also demands a truthful commitment. The entire process is based on shared honesty and respect … In my opinion, it helps you focus more on your needs as opposed to wants.” To Chattopadhyay, therefore, climbing in Almora is not only wanted by individuals in the community (as evidenced by the success of RTS), but is a way for the community to draw upon its strengths and reconcile with its shortcomings. 

Chattopadhyay sees RTS as a catalyst for change, an opportunity for a renewed perspective on life and education, and an entryway for those seeking career opportunities in the outdoors. His vision extends beyond the boundaries of just one generation as well. Though RTS works primarily with adults, Chattopadhyay believes real change will span the course of his own life and those of his friends. “In order to truly see change,” he believes, “we’d have to start working with kids … And the change that I expect to see [involves] shared values and belief systems that we will all be tied to.”

Today, the measure of success for this vision involves a few things: increased crag development, formal training for instructors, international involvement and sport climbing development by experienced climbers, gear donation and, most importantly, the construction of an artificial climbing wall, which Chattopadhyay views as a potential game changer. “Learning to climb outside comes with its own difficulties. There’s approach, access, risk and then, of course, there’s a dearth of time. Not everybody can commit to walking for 20 minutes in the woods and then have the capacity to climb. The [artificial] wall changes all of that.”

Chattopadhyay plans to build a website for RTS in the near future to increase exposure and facilitate donations. To stay updated on RockTrailSleep and the growth of climbing in Almora, follow RTS on Instagram @rocktrailsleep. RTS can also be found on Facebook and YouTube.