Nepal Trek Oct. 18 - Nov. 9, 2000
Rushing away from the fallen dream of Shangri-La as I readied myself for my pilgrimage of the spirit, I never realized I’d return to find Katmandu as I did. No, not a Mecca of spiritual bliss that I had so often conjured, but a place to re-accustom myself to the soullessness of the city. A pleasant respite from the barrage of the senses I had undergone. I returned quickly to the old habits without the majesty of nature to guide my path.I know
How
to locate
your soul’s refraction
of seamless
satisfaction
Oct. 18th Annapurna circuit day1
We arrived at Besisahar, the end of the road and for all intensive purposes the trailhead for the Annapurna trek…
Waited for Jason, but as he didn’t show up by 3:30, set out the trail (with Daniel!) Arrived in Khudi at dusk. Stayed at Khudi River Guesthouse (120rs for a double.) Washed up in the icy Khudi Khola before a wonderful dinner by the river. Bed at 8:00 (not feeling well)
Oct. 19th
2:00 a.m. Woke with high fever – put on many clothes… Broke fever in the night but slept on ‘til noon. Still dizzy and weak but moving on to Bahundanda.
5:00 p.m. Arrived in Bahundanda at the end of a very wary climb. The view was incredible as we stayed at the Superb View Hotel. Met loads of travelers from everywhere. Ordered too much dinner, couldn’t finish it. Got a short back rub from a Nepali guy.
Oct. 20th
Rose early but took time with breakfast and packing. Started at 8:00 a.m.
Oct. 21st Tal- Oregon Inn.
Last out of bed and last to the road. I wandered off past the Tibetan house and waterfall at the end of town. The river had widened and calmed and I took a picture of the bridge and rapids ahead before trekking across, passing the Mani Wall. During the long rocky climb up to Khorte I stepped aside to rest as the Nepali trains passed by - the large bells of the mules resonating in tune of the rhythm of their steps over the constant harmony of the river rush and the melody of the sweeping leaves. Leaning against the mountain wall until they passed, as the other side presents a danger with the mules tendency to nudge you with their heavy loads. The fall to the river would be a beautiful way to die… but not yet. The distant peaks enraptured in smoky dreams held my attention for a moment then a moment more.
I crossed the Maisyangdi River again, ireful at its stone gateway and found Karte to lunch in. Tea, salami, dried fruit, and a Mars bar later, I ventured again down the path to Dharapani where I met Lyan and Mar from the previous nights lodging. We sipped tea and talked of loves and marriage… and then the road ahead. I stayed later for the view and the time to write.
I finally caught up with Jason and Daniel at Danague after traversing several old landslide sites and the memorial at Bugardhap. The whole group splurged at dinner after our first warm shower of the trek. I had a pot of hot chocolate and ordered dinner… two hours later dinner finally came. I had a spring roll and fried potatoes and an apple pie for desert. We partied late… The stars were incredible.
Oct. 22nd Danague to Chame
Daniel went on ahead to Lower Pisang. Jason and I walked most of the way together over some landslides past Latamrang and Koto Qupar. We arrived at Chame and went through town and across the river to look at the Hot Spring. It was full of washing and surrounded by four Nepali women scrubbing. Disappointed, we discussed going on to Pisang.
At the last moment we ran into some friends of Jason’s. So we stayed at the Sangso Hotel. I took a nap and talked to an American girl, Tai, who hurt her food and was stuck in Chame for 11 days. I wrote a postcard to Jini – feeling very depressed without her. I had noodles with tuna and yak cheese and fried vegetables on a chapatti. I had a chang to round it off- Terrible! Went to bed at 10:00.
Oct. 23rd Chame to Lower Pisang
Woke at 6:45 and took off down the trail with milk tea in my belly. I cruised at breakneck speed for a while. At a crossroads, I chose the roads to the left of the river. I found myself at a cliff from a small landslide. I worked my way up and found a way into the gully and scrambled back up the other side. I walked along and ran into the three American girls who Jason knew- Kristy, Liza, and Bridget. I walked for a while with them until Jason and Lynn caught up with Michaela in tow. Jason and I ended up ahead and arrived at the Peace Hotel at 11:50 a.m. I took a quick shower after lunching on tuna and crackers.
Jason and I declared to conquer the hill behind the Hotel for a better view of the Annapurna and Pisang Peak. The climb up (to 3500m) was hard, but not without its rewards. We discovered several abandoned stone houses surrounded by a field frequented by Yaks. We trail blazed further up to a place for Tibetan flags to look at the inconceivable mass of Annapurna II. At a total loss for words, we returned and talked to Lynn and Michaela. I went into town to talk to some South African guys I met on the trail. I ate a Snickers and talked by the fire. Later, I met Czech people who had just summated Pisang Peak. We drank Chang until late. I went to bed around 9:30 p.m. I woke with an incessant cough as Jason and the two next door, Lynn and Michaela, were in and out all night throwing up from food poisoning. I think it was their breakfast as I didn’t eat any. I had trouble breathing and had to clear my throat most of the night. I took some Advil and finally fell asleep.
Oct. 24th Lower Pisang to Manang
I woke before 7:00 as usual despite the lack of sleep and waited for a while in bed to see what the others would do. I told Jason I’ d stay and wait for them, but he thought I should go on. I went to the dining room to have a cup of milk tea and think as I read about the road ahead. I returned and told him I’d leave. After settling the bill and packing, I didn’t start out until 8:20 a.m. I went through town and crossed the river and started up the path to Ghyaru, which wandered slowly at first through a wood and past a small lake.
Then, the hill ahead revealed a steep warding path up some 500 meters in Altitude. Dusty and rocky I passed a big group of French people on an organized tour with loads and loads of Shirpas. (The shirpas probably took the lower path with the equipment.) Turn after unending turn revealed more and more of the stanch beauty of Annapurna VI and, in the distance, II! I finally arrived at Ghyaru and stopped at a teahouse with the most spectacular overlook imaginable. I stayed over an hour before I could tear myself away. I wandered through the city to find the trail beyond. Medieval and full off charm I was sorry not to stay.
The path, now above tree line, was dusty and smattered with loose rock but now plodded on with little climb or fall. I passed several stupa and what must have been a Nepali version of a lookout post. The road went on and on until the flat stone roofed buildings of Ngawal emerged from the bend. This was easily the most unique and beautiful of the villages I’d seen. Stone paved alleys and friendly villagers made me decide to visit again and spend a night or two in the shadow of the Annapurna Range. From there the path shot down the valley past Pangba on the Maisyangdi river valley then rambled on and on for an eternity. I was out of water as some young men (and two boys) working on widening the steep trail asked me for some water and hungrily finished off my bottle. I slowly noticed that I was out of the range of springs that had been so frequent in the lower elevations.
So I plodded on asking directions occasionally, which is how I met a young Buddhist monk in training who showed me a yak slaughter at the end of a field. It was for a local festival in Pangba and I looked on as the farmers or herders split the ribs down the spine with a sturdy axe. Most of the work had been finished and they didn’t want me to take pictures so I moved on. Now I’m sitting in the shadow of Annapurna II pondering Tilicho peak about an hour away from Manang at Mungji Restaurant. The only tourist place in what seems a pastoral town for mule herders. And so I must go… my hot Tang being finished and my destination awaiting.
Quieter and softer now but not lacking strength, the river traveled at odds with me. I trudged along its upper banks with yaks below giving me sideways glances. The way into town stayed with the riverside past Braga and rambled through the dust and on and on until finally I arrived at the steps to the city of Manang.
I ran into the Israeli girls who pointed me toward Daniel sitting with Chris in front of the bakery. After I showered at the Yeti Hotel, we had a quick, but truly horrible pizza and we went to watch Into Thin Air.
Oct. 25th Acclimatizing in Manang
Daniel and I rose and went to breakfast. He talked about doing the Tilicho pass with me. I finally decided that I need an acclimatization day in Manang, so he took off toward Thorong La pass. Marian of Australia and I elected to cross the river and climb to a Teahouse next to the Glacier. We got there and climbed beyond in the hills to an abandoned rock dwelling village and up the mountain toward the snowline. Stopping at about 4100 meters, we rested before a rather quick descent in the growing cold of a wind whistling down the valley. We arrived at Manang famished and lunched at a little restaurant before I took off to see the Altitude sickness seminar at the Himalayan Rescue Association.
After the speech, I asked a couple of questions and got directions for the next days march to Tilicho Base Camp. I watched the locals raise dust with their mule races stampeding through town as I shopped for TP and soap. I ran into most of the people from the trek in town and decided to catch the movie 7 years in Tibet despite an ascending headache. The movie was long and painful – the headache became increasingly unbearable, but I was too weak to move. Finally, the movie ended and I stumbled home nearly blind then acquired some aspirin from the Hotel owner. 7:30 I lay down amid throbs and couldn’t even take my parka and Gortex pants off for several hours. The medicine helped and sleep came.
Oct. 26th Manang to Tilicho Base Camp
“The long uncertain March”
I woke at 5:30 but thought it better to sleep more so I woke again at 8:00. I decided to press on toward Tilicho and the turquoise lake. Packing, the girls Marian and Jenne (from Canada) stopped by to see how I was and say good-bye – off to Thorong La. I packed slowly and checked out after an icy shower. I had breakfast at the same restaurant as yesterday’s lunch before leaving town.
I found my way down to the river and followed the bluffs upward before realizing I had erred. I had to retrace my steps and follow the riverbed toward the west. Crossing a small bridge, I climbed a switch back and followed a long winding path into Khangsar. I filled my water bottle at the town faucet and quickened my pace through town, thinking it would only be another two hours until my destination.
The path split in many places and I followed what seemed the best one as it ran through fields of goats and yaks. The as the path faded I found myself at a precipice. The landslide had started far above and went all the way down to the river. It didn’t seem passable at my point and I could see no other paths. I decided to backtrack and discovered a path above that went almost straight up. I had to stop every few steps to catch my breath – a ritual I would continue for the rest of the day.
Finally, I crossed at a small wooden bridge to another climbing path. The day wore on, as did I, at a snails pace. I would reach the elevation I knew the base camp to be, only to plummet again to a lower pass. I came upon abandoned shelters and what seemed a lookout to the looming shadows of the mountains. Finally, the path split to the high road and the middle. The low was impassable. I took the middle, which was hedged with intruding thorn bushes and brambles that collected on my pants.
Soon, but really late as my pace slowed on every climb, the path became a fragile ledge of loose rock on a 60 plus degree slope. The rocks below me would slip and slide into mini land slides as I stepped, going up and down to pass the jutting rock formations that had yet to crumble. Hours later, I ran into the first people, a group of Americans from San Francisco that were racing back toward Kangsar in the afternoon light. One informed me that I had one hour left and I went a little further before stopping to put on more clothes, empty the rocks from my boots and rest in the warm sun. The remaining trail was easy and mostly down hill to the one lodge in this part of the mountains. I reached it and fell on a stone ledge to rest. Later, I met two Americans from San Francisco, Chris (22) and C.J. (51) traveling together. We decided to tackle the climb to Tilicho together the next morning. I thought about Jini and Korea and things all night – no sleep. Was it the altitude?
The Fury
Will you wonder
at the wonder,
at beauty’s height?
Will it take you
to the peak,
of passion?
Was our meeting destined?
Determined?
Were you waiting
for my accostation?
Was my delivery
the key
to our creation?
Flowers blooming
sunshine burning
satisfaction’s yearning
Night’s
churning toward
the fury of our fantasy
Oct. 27th Tilicho
Got up in the cold morning light and had a hard-boiled egg and milk tea for breakfast. We started up the trail at 8:00. We climbed in the cloudy morning and climbed and climbed. The trail went straight up and with every step my breathing became harder. Chris and C.J. and their porter Hira valiantly waited for me and encouraged me along. We finally reached the barren wasteland of the plateau leading to the lake along side a crackling glacier as my head began to throb from the altitude. We stumbled on until reaching the lake, which spanned out turquoise before us. We took shelter on the leeward side of a stupa and snacked on a half hard-boiled egg, cookies, and mars bars. My head leaning toward a migraine from the bitter wind and 5200meter air.
We stayed briefly, in the unusually cloudy morning before racing down the steep switchbacks to base camp. We arrived at Base Camp just as the sun broke though the clouds. Ate lunch and took a bucket bath, talked and ate more for dinner. Crashed after talking about music but didn’t sleep well again. I dreamed about cutting off my left hand for a company – translation- I’m terribly worried about losing something. I woke late, maybe 3 or 4 a.m. and had to piss and I discovered the stars. Orion lying on his side, the wind had calmed and the night warmed.
Oct. 28th Tilicho base camp to Yak Kharka
Arose at 7:30, left on the middle road at 8:00. We raced along the shale cliff sides and reached the split between the high and low roads quickly. We went on toward Khangsar and followed the split up above the monastery. It wound up to an abandoned town. We had to sit among the herd of wandering Yaks to discuss where the path would lead. The paths were numerous through the yak fields, but we decided to follow the line of a stone wall along the top.
We ran across a large bull yak in the middle of the pass that obliged us by stepping aside and even posed for a picture. The path then turned up higher through thorny bushes and came around a turn to the most amazing view I’d seen. Truly post card quality of Manang, the whole river valley and the peaks all around. The path then followed down around the steep southern side of the Marayangdi River. It tumbled on through the thicket until finally plummeting to the “rebuilt” river bridge: a couple of spliced planks held to the boulder by a pile of rocks. After a snack and a riverside rest in the sunshine we started up toward the main trail on the north side. We ended the day with a long winding trudge into Yak Kharka and stayed at the end of town. I had a bucked bath and went to bed after a nice dinner and a talk with the town doctor.
Oct. 29th Yak Kharka to Thorong Phedi (high camp)
Finally slept a bit and rose with energy for the days hike. We quickly passed Letdar on the slow assent, then followed the new high path to avoid the danger of landslides on the low path. The early wind bit into us and we finally stopped at a stony teahouse to have a crusty, but beautiful cinnamon roll and tea. The path then stumbled down to cross the river just below Thorong Phedi. I deposited CJ and Chris at the town and pushed on up the cliff side switchback toward the high camp. It took a turtle hour to reach the top – exhausted.
I walked into the dining room, right into Jason. We ended up sharing a room and tripping up to a cliff over look of Thorong Phedi and the glaciers rising above all around. We sat on the leeward side of a large cairn in the sun. I played “Shit-head” with Jason and some Israeli girls and chatted with some German Swiss couples. I stayed up late even though I had an altitude headache. I met Matt and Thomas, the stoner guitar-playing trekkers. Thomas was playing a song about being broke in Turkey on this birthday. After that, I went back to the room and talked to Jason for a while before trying to fell asleep. Sleep never came and my breathing was stilted, stopping some times. I also felt nauseous and had to go out to the bathroom several times. All in all – a truly miserable night!
Roar
Do what the music dictates
Do what… do what
Sift through the arming light
never left to linger
in stillness scattered
with moments grasping
gasping at open echoes
gates of passion gaping
in sound seething in
a rancorous rush
of movement mounting
to madness
Oct. 30th Thorong La Pass and the dive into Muktinath
Jason woke me up at 5:30 and we packed in the cold with our headlights on and hit the trail at 6:00. I struck my turtle pace and kept it up, trumbling on up to the pass at 8:00 am. We sat on the Moonscape in the glory of our accomplishment… Sat with the American girls and the stoner boys as we chocolated out. After a rest and few obligatory pictures, I started down ahead of the others to rid myself of the dizziness and the throbbing headache. After plummeting 1200 meters, I finally lost the headache and sat at a teahouse to wait for the others. I had a Fanta that tasted awful because of the daimox (altitude sickness medicine).
When everyone arrived we finally started down to Muktinath. We stayed at the ‘North Pole’. Me, Jason and Kol, from Russia, got a room. I had an early lunch and went to hang with Thomas (Guitar boy) and the crowd. We drank apple brandy with tea and listened to Jason and Thomas jam as I wrote in the journal and played chess with an Israeli guy named Elad. We took over the kitchen and make a burrito buffet. It was wonderful and the entertainment continued. The boys retired and I went back to the North Pole where Jason and the crew were still sitting around listening to Bob Marley. A bit of talk, a sip of tea and to bed.
Oct. 31st Muktinath to Kagbeni
We rose a little later and had breakfast. We decided to go up to the temples of Muktinath (Chumig Gyatsa) after packing slowly. It’s a major pilgrimage site for the both Hindus and Buddhists. In Nepal, tolerance and acceptance of other beliefs are the rule rather than the exception. At the temple, we were blessed and we ran into some bikers doing the Annapurna circuit. They just came over the pass. We slowly sauntered back to town.
We then walked down out of town toward Kagbeni. We followed the cliffs on the south side of the river looking up and down at the Grand Canyonesque scenery with Dhalgari ahead and the peaks of Khatungkang and Yaknamakang looming in out past. It was a short little jaunt through beautiful scenery talking in little groups (about 2 1/2 - 3hours) we walked through the town’s flat stone paved main path (avoiding blue sheep, yaks and horses and their dung) and found a few welcome beds at the Red Lodge. It was built around a 300 year-old temple.
We sat and I played “shit-head” with some Swedish guys (Peter and ??.) I felt terribly down after talking to Jini for only two minutes on an expensive call. She’s my angel and she seemed so lonely. Went to bed at 10 in the stinky dorm room – the boys had hung out their two weeks or more unwashed socks. Still I rested well with the window open – warm again.
Nov. 1st Kagbeni to Marpha
We rose rather late and had a leisurely breakfast. Jason talked for ages with Matt before we got a 10:00 start down the Kali Gandaki Gorge. Never a more windswept desolate place have I seen. After 11:30, the wind began to beat down upon us and never eased up. Whipped with sand, we plodded through Jomsom with a brief bank exchange at 70rps - $1. Passing the dirt leveled runway of the airport under construction, we headed down the valley, stuck for a while behind a herd of sheep in a cloud of hoof raised dirt.
Entering Marpha, I waited for the others who arrived in sections. I felt very alone… sometimes it’s better to be alone than feel alone (among others). We found accommodation at the Neeru Guest House. It has the best food and most reasonable prices. I played ping-pong after an incredibly hot shower; beat the Israeli champion, ordered an amazing enchilada (pollo) and narrowly beat the Israeli chess champion in a great match. Eventually, Bridget, Elad and the other Israeli champion wandered out to the Yak bar for a beer and a game of pool. Slept at 12:00 (sooooo late)
Nov. 2nd A long -time -coming day of rest
Most of us decided to stay in this nice little cottage-like Guest House to rest our weary limbs and wash our over-ripe clothes. Kot… I’m tired of journaling - I find no solace in it…
In Tatopani I had a wonderful experience with great food and better people and the best hot springs. I met Joe the Aussie med student and we traveled at breakneck speed up to Ghoropani, Poon Hill and the steps down toward Pokhara. 26600043.JPG
The food and civilization of Pokhara startled me. I had an emotional dinner at Moon dance.
Nov. 9th
Now I sit on the beach of the Seti River as the light dims and the breeze blows the warm day away. We prepare for a mini feast. The breeze barreled down the valley, yet settled on my thoughts.
I’ve returned to Katmandu and the world of machines after my communion with the mountains and the rivers. I’ve returned to all the comforts and the headaches of the modern world to find it wholly unsatisfying and truly undesirable. Machines do not improve our lives, only demean our existence and the role nature created for us.
As I look toward the distant mountains, I want only to return to their harsh aspiring truths and again to flow along the river’s inconsistency. But duty calls – that of a society I neither chose nor created – so I return to the opiate of the modern day and rest only in the comfort that I’ll return again…
In a letter to Kirk
As my adventure draws to the end, I look back at the beauty and the horror with equal respect and appreciation. I stayed here in Pokhara and it was the staging ground for my transition from mountain guru to river rat. Though our view was obstructed by an ever-present low hanging mist, we drew our excitement from other things as we practiced our kayak technique in the wake of the young Nepali’s body being dragged across the lake. A mere portent for the days to come on the Seti River. Now in the bustle of Katmandu it seems like a dream – worlds away and yet within reach! I’ll return!!