Thursday September 20
The morning in Muktinath brings another long walking day for the three of us, but the journey is relatively flat and goes down the valley of a new river we will follow called the Kali Gandaki. It should be easy which is a nice change from the constant climbing we've been doing. I fatten up on a Tibetan omelet with yak cheese and bread and we are out the door by eight o'clock. It would have been great to stay in Muktinath for a few days because there is a lot to see here but, we don't have many days left in our trip before returning home. We haven't really thought about the terrorist attacks back home, but now with seven days left in Nepal we are wondering if getting back to Kathmandu early will be safer in case we have trouble with our flight. None of us have talked to anyone who could clue us in to what it's like in the United States right now. What if all flights into the United States are canceled and we have to stay in Nepal longer. I wouldn't be upset to stay longer except for the fear of running out of money, but I imagine our families are probably very worried too.
The land around us is still dusty, brown and dry, but irrigated fields along the path bring beautiful pink flowers of buckwheat to life. It's a beautiful sight underneath the clear blue sky. We pass Indian pilgrims all dressed in white on their way to Muktinath. They stop us with excitement introducing themselves with palms together telling us about their pilgrimage. We also see many well groomed backpackers coming along who are hiking the trail the opposite way of us. Soon they will have to tackle the long climb to Thorung La, but oh what an incredible experience it is. As we round the bend and hike into the river bed I think about all the people we have met on this trip. The Israeli man who swam in any stream, lake or waterfall he came upon and almost killing himself in the glacier lake near Manang. The German team led by a bleachy haired and kitty-paw fleece wearing man whom AB affectionately named, Colonel Clink. The four of them conquered the trail always in a perfect straight line with walking sticks swinging in unison. There was a beautiful blonde girl in their group that we named, The Hot Nazi which I know is horrible to make a joke out of, but we mean nothing bad. Jack and Trisha who have by now summited Pisang Peak and will follow our footsteps in just a few days. There are many more faces of course, but time is flying by and especially now as we tread faster and faster to get to the end of our trip. So sad to see that the end is near and all the friendships we made are lost in our rush to get out. Couldn't we just say, "Screw it all" to those obligations back home? We could be free to take our time and be with friends in these beautiful mountains.
What a long day it's been for all of us. We walked for 8 hours today, Muktinath, Jomosom, to Tukche. I've not even recovered from crossing Thorung La so today's walk reopened all my sore spots. It was sunny and dry but the wind was fierce as it traveled through the mile wide river canyon. It kicked up all the sand and dust which pelted us so hard we were forced to turn our backs to the wind. We walked the canyon with many pilgrims, hikers and porters and each time the wind cut through I could see people turning away and bracing themselves while the scarves wrapped around their faces twirled violently in the wind. We stopped briefly to eat in the dry dusty village of Jomosom but did not take any time to explore. Jomosom is the capital of the Mustang region complete with it's own airport and it's the busiest town we've been to on the trek. This is the last spot to get supplies, permits and contact with the outside world before heading into more remote parts of the Mustang Kingdom. We mail a few postcards and then very quickly we are blazing the trail again.
I fell like we were racing today so that we can reach Tukche before nightfall. There isn't much talking among ourselves as we were all just heavily focused on the walk. The soundtrack in my head is blaring The Doors, 5 to 1 and Riders On The Storm over and over again. I wonder how these songs just pop into my head. What is it in the air that I feel or the thing I see that makes a song play in my mind. Whatever it is I'm just glad they are songs I enjoy.
Feeling tired and haggard I am a stranger again when we settle into our hotel for the night because I do not recognize any of the other hikers. I have sand in my teeth and sand in my hair but the water has no heat so I don't brave a shower. It feels good to collapse and I'm fast asleep in minutes.
Friday, February 24, 2012
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Journal Entry 12
Part 2
"Clank, clank, scrape, clack, clink, scrape, scrape, clank!" It's like the sound of fingernails dragging across a chalkboard. I'm making my descent down a long wide path of pebbles and dust. Behind me at least sixty feet away a young man follows me sporting those industrial strength trekking poles and every step he makes I can hear as if he is walking right next to me. The serenity I'm trying to soak in is unfortunately being absorbed by those trekking poles needling their way through the broken rock. I stop for a rest and watch this man approach me. Looking at him it almost seems more cumbersome to walk with them versus without. For one thing he isn't a very tall person and the poles seem to be longer than he is. He stretches his arms far forward stabbing his sticks into the earth before moving his feet forward. Maybe that's how it's supposed to be, but regardless I'm annoyed and want him to get far ahead of me so I don't have to listen to that noise. He doesn't even have a big backpack like the forty pounds that I'm carrying. Somewhere on this mountain he has a nice porter lugging his pack for him and I bet his porter wanted to be as far away from him as possible too.
Moving on, my toes are bumping the front of my boots all the way down and I imagine when I take them off later I'll have a few black toenails. I no longer need all the clothing I put on to keep warm. I'm sporting 3 layers of pants, and about 4 tops with a hat and gloves on. I'm roasting so bad, but there isn't anywhere to hide so that I can remove clothing. I have to use the toilet also and I'd rather not show the world what I'm up to. It's times like these when I wish I were a guy, but maybe my problem is that I'm giving a shit about what someone might think. I'm only human right? Lucky for me I spot a small settlement that looks abandoned,,, perfect. I cannot believe I went from wearing layer upon layer of clothing to a t-shirt and pants in just under an hour.
When I catch up with Tony and AB they are resting on the first patch of grass we've seen since Manang Valley. I throw down my pack and stretch out on the grass along with them. We've been going non-stop for seven hours now without food or rest. I don't realize how worn out I am until I'm laying down. My eyelids are heavy and the warm sun and breeze make for a great lullaby. "Clink, clack, clack, scrape." "That sound!" There he is again, he must have taken a break and I passed him up. "That fucking dude." AB grumbles keeping his eyes closed.
"I'm glad I'm not the only one who feels that way." I chuckle as I cock my head back up the mountain to see where he is coming from. Mr. Pole decides to take a rest in almost the same spot we are. The peace and quiet is over when he digs in his day pack and crinkles open a chip bag. We lay there for a few moments listening to the bag crinkling and the chips crunching, but trying are best to hear beyond that and remember why we are here. It doesn't work, poor dude, everything about him is irritating but, I'm sure he means well.
Muktinath
We reach goat herds and fields of buckwheat before making our way into the village of Muktinath. I look back at the mountain pass, which now sits far off in the distance. Funny, it doesn't look so difficult from here. The valley isn't cut as steeply as it was from the Manang side. It's not as green and lush, but brown with a dusty wind blowing in from time to time. This is the gateway to Mustang, a remote kingdom that straddles the border of Nepal with Tibet. I would love to visit Mustang but you need special permits to go there and we just don't have the time.
Muktinath looks beautiful, with it's Hindu and Buddhist temples and oddly enough trees. This is an odd place for trees to grow because of it's elevation 12,460 feet and so it has become a sacred site for both Hindu's and Buddhists. Hindu's come here to worship Vishnu and among Hindu's, Muktinath is known as the "place of salvation." There are 108 fountains with cow head sculptures protruding from them and each shots water from it's mouth. People walk in the fountain letting the cow heads soak them in sacred water, even if it's freezing cold out. I don't have the energy to explore this place and I feel as if I'm dragging my feet through it's pathways. It's going on eight hours since we've had a decent meal. I stink,I'm covered in dust and I've burned my face and arms in the sun. Despite all that I'm in good spirits, but in a way I'm starting to feel sad. My journey is almost over.
"Clank, clank, scrape, clack, clink, scrape, scrape, clank!" It's like the sound of fingernails dragging across a chalkboard. I'm making my descent down a long wide path of pebbles and dust. Behind me at least sixty feet away a young man follows me sporting those industrial strength trekking poles and every step he makes I can hear as if he is walking right next to me. The serenity I'm trying to soak in is unfortunately being absorbed by those trekking poles needling their way through the broken rock. I stop for a rest and watch this man approach me. Looking at him it almost seems more cumbersome to walk with them versus without. For one thing he isn't a very tall person and the poles seem to be longer than he is. He stretches his arms far forward stabbing his sticks into the earth before moving his feet forward. Maybe that's how it's supposed to be, but regardless I'm annoyed and want him to get far ahead of me so I don't have to listen to that noise. He doesn't even have a big backpack like the forty pounds that I'm carrying. Somewhere on this mountain he has a nice porter lugging his pack for him and I bet his porter wanted to be as far away from him as possible too.
Moving on, my toes are bumping the front of my boots all the way down and I imagine when I take them off later I'll have a few black toenails. I no longer need all the clothing I put on to keep warm. I'm sporting 3 layers of pants, and about 4 tops with a hat and gloves on. I'm roasting so bad, but there isn't anywhere to hide so that I can remove clothing. I have to use the toilet also and I'd rather not show the world what I'm up to. It's times like these when I wish I were a guy, but maybe my problem is that I'm giving a shit about what someone might think. I'm only human right? Lucky for me I spot a small settlement that looks abandoned,,, perfect. I cannot believe I went from wearing layer upon layer of clothing to a t-shirt and pants in just under an hour.
When I catch up with Tony and AB they are resting on the first patch of grass we've seen since Manang Valley. I throw down my pack and stretch out on the grass along with them. We've been going non-stop for seven hours now without food or rest. I don't realize how worn out I am until I'm laying down. My eyelids are heavy and the warm sun and breeze make for a great lullaby. "Clink, clack, clack, scrape." "That sound!" There he is again, he must have taken a break and I passed him up. "That fucking dude." AB grumbles keeping his eyes closed.
"I'm glad I'm not the only one who feels that way." I chuckle as I cock my head back up the mountain to see where he is coming from. Mr. Pole decides to take a rest in almost the same spot we are. The peace and quiet is over when he digs in his day pack and crinkles open a chip bag. We lay there for a few moments listening to the bag crinkling and the chips crunching, but trying are best to hear beyond that and remember why we are here. It doesn't work, poor dude, everything about him is irritating but, I'm sure he means well. Muktinath
We reach goat herds and fields of buckwheat before making our way into the village of Muktinath. I look back at the mountain pass, which now sits far off in the distance. Funny, it doesn't look so difficult from here. The valley isn't cut as steeply as it was from the Manang side. It's not as green and lush, but brown with a dusty wind blowing in from time to time. This is the gateway to Mustang, a remote kingdom that straddles the border of Nepal with Tibet. I would love to visit Mustang but you need special permits to go there and we just don't have the time.
Muktinath looks beautiful, with it's Hindu and Buddhist temples and oddly enough trees. This is an odd place for trees to grow because of it's elevation 12,460 feet and so it has become a sacred site for both Hindu's and Buddhists. Hindu's come here to worship Vishnu and among Hindu's, Muktinath is known as the "place of salvation." There are 108 fountains with cow head sculptures protruding from them and each shots water from it's mouth. People walk in the fountain letting the cow heads soak them in sacred water, even if it's freezing cold out. I don't have the energy to explore this place and I feel as if I'm dragging my feet through it's pathways. It's going on eight hours since we've had a decent meal. I stink,I'm covered in dust and I've burned my face and arms in the sun. Despite all that I'm in good spirits, but in a way I'm starting to feel sad. My journey is almost over.
Thursday, January 5, 2012
Journal Entry 12
Wednesday September 19
5:00AM the sky is just beginning to show hints of daylight. The mountains like great shadows towering around us and the stars are radiating with light. It wasn't easy waking up in the cold, my breath heavy with ice crystals and my face raw against the biting temperature. I'm scrambling in the dark with a small flashlight clenched in my teeth trying to get my gear all packed up. I'm wearing every layer I can but my backpack still feels as heavy as it did when I started this trek. Heavy,,, that is the word of the day for me. AB is excited to start the walk as he bounces up and down to keep warm in the dim light.
Bending our knees we take slow easy steps up the hill. The earth is brown and grey with not an ounce of green. At least there is not any snow or ice to contend with because the trails will worn edges don't leave much room for error. We are all silent focusing on our breaths and trying to keep good balance as our packs pull us backwards. The suns light is hitting the highest peaks now and on a distant mountain side I can see blue sheep grazing. Snow leopards also roam this area, but they are very difficult to see and with a powerful sense of smell would probably disappear long before any human could lay eyes on him. Even the blue sheep are hard to make out and it's only when they move that I know they are there.
We reach upper base camp and the sun hits our faces as we make it out of the steepest portion of the pass. It's low season for crossing the pass so the lodge is cold and empty. The air is thinner and it's not good to sit still for too long and people only take short breaks to drink water before marching on.
I lean on one of the lodge posts and watch trekkers go by. I feel sleepy and it seems too early to feel this way but when I start to move my knees actually feel like they are refusing my commands to go onward. I have a dull headache that I know is only going to get worse so I've got to get moving. Tony isn't too far ahead of me, but among the group of trekkers that set off with us I cannot pinpoint where AB is on the trail. Almost everyone making the crossing is a guy, tall and lanky and they easily pass me with their great strides. I want to speed up but find myself exhausted with every extra push I try to give. I feel like I am the last person of the group, so slow that I finally see AB watching and waiting for me to see if I'm okay. He sits on a boulder and asks, "You alright?" I'm out of breath, but manage to belt out a, Yes. "You have to get moving, it's too cold to go slow." I tell him I have a headache and he says, "Even more reason to get to the top quickly, so that we can all go down." "My bag is digging into my back and rubbing my skin raw, it's painful to move." I try and defend myself. AB takes my pack and adjusts all my straps for me and says, "This is what we decided in the beginning that we would do this ourselves without the help of porters." "Robyn you can do this, just breathe and you'll be at the pass in no time. He holds my pack up for me to slip back into and nods with approval, "Better?" I give him a thumbs up and he moves on.
Up here everything you've suffered from increases and it's not something you can ignore. All those muscle aches, sores, blistered toes, stomach ailments and other less than pleasant things take on a new life. Humans are clearly not meant to live up here. The evidence of how dangerous this can be makes itself clear as we follow along a ridge dotted with memorial markers from those who died trying to cross Thorong La in years passed. Stones are etched with names and dates and rocks are stacked in small piles around the grave markers. The landscape opens more for us and it's as if we are in a giant bowl surround by jagged teeth. Arid and dry, the sun is blinding against the white snow-capped peaks and the wind picks up under a dark blue cloudless sky. "Just sleep." the wind whispers to me. "Lay down under this glorious sky and sleep for me." My companion the wind is getting stronger the further I go and she is just about the only thing I can hear with the exception of my heartbeat which seems to have moved from my chest to my eardrums. I can't quench that desire to breathe in deeply now, it's just not there. I stop to drink more water, "Am I the last human standing?" A few more steps and I can see that the gateway to the other side is near. Millions of prayer flags blowing violently are strung across a mass pile of stones. A tiny cabin with smoke coming from a chimney also comes into view and all the hikers pepper the brown landscape in all the shades of the latest camping outerwear. I feel like I am walking into some sort of outdoor party or festival. It's suddenly very crowded and everyone is smiling and talking. A few hours ago we were all keeping to ourselves not even acknowledging each other. My last few steps are greeted with applause and Tony rushes up to kiss me on the cheek, shouting, "We did it!" AB is at the cabin sipping tea and gives me a nod with a big smile. The wind is ripping through the pass with hurricane like force and it's absolutely frigid. Even at the mouth of the pass there isn't any snow which still only covers the highest peaks. Everyone is taking photographs and warming themselves in the small cabin where a Sherpa makes Tibetan tea for everyone. Tony, AB, and I take our turns posing by the elevation sign which reads, Thank You For Visiting Manang, Thorong La Pass Elevation, 5416 m (17769 ft) Congratulations On Your Success!!! As miserable as I was moments ago I am now smiling and laughing with everyone. We did it and I am standing on a patch of earth that is the highest I'll ever be. It's gorgeous!
5:00AM the sky is just beginning to show hints of daylight. The mountains like great shadows towering around us and the stars are radiating with light. It wasn't easy waking up in the cold, my breath heavy with ice crystals and my face raw against the biting temperature. I'm scrambling in the dark with a small flashlight clenched in my teeth trying to get my gear all packed up. I'm wearing every layer I can but my backpack still feels as heavy as it did when I started this trek. Heavy,,, that is the word of the day for me. AB is excited to start the walk as he bounces up and down to keep warm in the dim light.
Bending our knees we take slow easy steps up the hill. The earth is brown and grey with not an ounce of green. At least there is not any snow or ice to contend with because the trails will worn edges don't leave much room for error. We are all silent focusing on our breaths and trying to keep good balance as our packs pull us backwards. The suns light is hitting the highest peaks now and on a distant mountain side I can see blue sheep grazing. Snow leopards also roam this area, but they are very difficult to see and with a powerful sense of smell would probably disappear long before any human could lay eyes on him. Even the blue sheep are hard to make out and it's only when they move that I know they are there.
We reach upper base camp and the sun hits our faces as we make it out of the steepest portion of the pass. It's low season for crossing the pass so the lodge is cold and empty. The air is thinner and it's not good to sit still for too long and people only take short breaks to drink water before marching on.
I lean on one of the lodge posts and watch trekkers go by. I feel sleepy and it seems too early to feel this way but when I start to move my knees actually feel like they are refusing my commands to go onward. I have a dull headache that I know is only going to get worse so I've got to get moving. Tony isn't too far ahead of me, but among the group of trekkers that set off with us I cannot pinpoint where AB is on the trail. Almost everyone making the crossing is a guy, tall and lanky and they easily pass me with their great strides. I want to speed up but find myself exhausted with every extra push I try to give. I feel like I am the last person of the group, so slow that I finally see AB watching and waiting for me to see if I'm okay. He sits on a boulder and asks, "You alright?" I'm out of breath, but manage to belt out a, Yes. "You have to get moving, it's too cold to go slow." I tell him I have a headache and he says, "Even more reason to get to the top quickly, so that we can all go down." "My bag is digging into my back and rubbing my skin raw, it's painful to move." I try and defend myself. AB takes my pack and adjusts all my straps for me and says, "This is what we decided in the beginning that we would do this ourselves without the help of porters." "Robyn you can do this, just breathe and you'll be at the pass in no time. He holds my pack up for me to slip back into and nods with approval, "Better?" I give him a thumbs up and he moves on.
Up here everything you've suffered from increases and it's not something you can ignore. All those muscle aches, sores, blistered toes, stomach ailments and other less than pleasant things take on a new life. Humans are clearly not meant to live up here. The evidence of how dangerous this can be makes itself clear as we follow along a ridge dotted with memorial markers from those who died trying to cross Thorong La in years passed. Stones are etched with names and dates and rocks are stacked in small piles around the grave markers. The landscape opens more for us and it's as if we are in a giant bowl surround by jagged teeth. Arid and dry, the sun is blinding against the white snow-capped peaks and the wind picks up under a dark blue cloudless sky. "Just sleep." the wind whispers to me. "Lay down under this glorious sky and sleep for me." My companion the wind is getting stronger the further I go and she is just about the only thing I can hear with the exception of my heartbeat which seems to have moved from my chest to my eardrums. I can't quench that desire to breathe in deeply now, it's just not there. I stop to drink more water, "Am I the last human standing?" A few more steps and I can see that the gateway to the other side is near. Millions of prayer flags blowing violently are strung across a mass pile of stones. A tiny cabin with smoke coming from a chimney also comes into view and all the hikers pepper the brown landscape in all the shades of the latest camping outerwear. I feel like I am walking into some sort of outdoor party or festival. It's suddenly very crowded and everyone is smiling and talking. A few hours ago we were all keeping to ourselves not even acknowledging each other. My last few steps are greeted with applause and Tony rushes up to kiss me on the cheek, shouting, "We did it!" AB is at the cabin sipping tea and gives me a nod with a big smile. The wind is ripping through the pass with hurricane like force and it's absolutely frigid. Even at the mouth of the pass there isn't any snow which still only covers the highest peaks. Everyone is taking photographs and warming themselves in the small cabin where a Sherpa makes Tibetan tea for everyone. Tony, AB, and I take our turns posing by the elevation sign which reads, Thank You For Visiting Manang, Thorong La Pass Elevation, 5416 m (17769 ft) Congratulations On Your Success!!! As miserable as I was moments ago I am now smiling and laughing with everyone. We did it and I am standing on a patch of earth that is the highest I'll ever be. It's gorgeous!
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