Manaslu and Ganesh Himal Trek 2008

 

NOTE, this journal is copyrighted material and is the sole property of the author. Nothing contained in this journal is intended or written to be used, and cannot be used, in any form for marketing, promoting or any other purpose without the written consent of the author.

 

Manaslu & Ganesh Himal

Journal

 

 

 

 

 

October 10-November 12, 2008

 

                                                                          John Balha

 

Friday, October 10, 2008

 

Leave work around 3:00 and call Ann arranging to meet her at the base storage lot to drop off the red TR7.  Get that done and back to the PX to buy socks and cash a check.

 

Back home and complete a range of last minute things before heading out for the trip.  We leave for Long Beach for dinner with the Kohls around 5:00.  Traffic isn’t too bad and we get to John’s house about 6:40.  After a drink at John’s house, we head out to Parker’s Lighthouse for dinner.

 

Everyone is in a good mood and we get a lot of good laughs and after a bottle of wine call Roger and Jean for some more good-natured kidding around.

 

Fe insists on them paying for dinner.  I make a decision to bring some things back for her and the kids as an offset to the rather substantial dinner bill that John has just paid.

 

Ann and I follow the Kohls to the turnoff for the LA Airport.  Driving at night for either of us has become something that we would just as soon not do and the traffic is heavy.  I do what I can to anticipate turns for Ann and we get to the international terminal in good shape.

 

Get a nice send off from Ann and she heads to Santa Monica to stay the night with her nieces.

 

I move easily through the Cathay Pacific ticketing process but get hung up in the customs baggage check process.  I had packed all of the unexposed film in the check through bags and there’s a big sign that says that the x-rays will damage the film.  I take the multiple bags of film out of the check through and forget that my small Buck knife is in one of the bags.  As they check my carryon bag, they take the knife.

 

I finally get to the departure lounge and see Jim.  He’s shaved his head for the trip and has a small goatee; still same ole Jim.

 

Saturday October 11, 2008

 

We depart LA around 2:00 AM and the flight to Hong Kong goes by fairly easily.

 

Sunday, October 12, 2008

 

We arrive in Hong Kong a little before 7:00 AM and locate the Traveler’s Lounge, a small series of partitioned sleeping spaces that works out pretty well and get a welcome five hours of sleep.

 

We leave our sleeping accommodations about 1:30 and kill time in a restaurant over noodles and coffee.

 

Later that afternoon we board Dragon Airlines for the four hour flight into Kathmandu which turns out to be better than expectations.

 

Our baggage arrives in good order and other than having to pay $100 for our Nepal visa move through the process fairly painlessly.  Ram Hari is there to pick us up and gets us to the Hotel Tibet and Jenny around 10:30. 

 

Monday, October 13, 2008

 

I come down a little after 7:00 for breakfast and meet Chris Roderick in the dining room.  Jim joins us a little while later.

 

After breakfast, we join Jenny, Ram Rai, Kamie, and Kurpa.  Jim and I unload our treasures for them and Jenny takes our money.

 

Benaye joins us later and we’re off for a day of sight seeing in Kathmandu for all things Hindu.  I’ve seen these sites before and just sort of hang in there trying to adjust to the jet lag.

 

After a good lunch in one of the restored castles, hit the Tibetan carpet outlet (Jawalakhel Handcraft Center) and buy a number of carpets.  The selection isn’t as good as it has been in the past.  More tourists with the new government.

 

We have dinner with Jenny at a restored garden in Kathmandu.  The food, company, and ambience are excellent.

 

Tuesday, October 14, 2008

 

The trek begins.  I’m up at 5:00 and begin the process to sort things out.  Get downstairs by 6:00, checkout of the hotel, and check luggage that isn’t going on the trek.  We all have breakfast together and then join Jenny before 7:00.

 

We take a Toyota Land-cruiser to our destination of Gorkha arriving around 11:00.  We meet our trekking staff here and go inside a truck stop of sorts for lunch feasting on an excellent lunch of Dahl Bat.

 

Shortly after lunch, we begin our ascent up several thousand steps to a hilltop Hindu temple.  It’s very hot and the porter’s loads are very heavy.  Everyone struggles in the heat. 

 

We finally reach the stone steps beneath the temple.  The last 100 steps and the temple are still covered in a semi-sticky covering of blood from the recent festival.  We’re asked to remove our boots and sense that we’re all a little uncomfortable walking around in the not entirely dry blood.

 

After a mix up with Ram, Kamie figures out that Ram has gone on ahead to set up a camp nearby and we move beyond the temple complex.

 

We set up camp in a local  pasture at about 3,500 feet.  Within an hour we’re joined by several large camping parties who camp nearby.  One of them is a group of 17 Danish forty-something women.  In the late afternoon, while Jim and Chris save their energy, I wander over and talk to them while they do serious damage to their supply of scotch.  They were definitely having a good time.

 

After an excellent dinner of yet more Dahl Bat we decide that this is too much excitement for us and are asleep before 8:00 PM.  The full moon is so bright that it wakes us up several times during the night.

 

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

 

Slept reasonably well; up at 5:45.  As the sun gradually comes up, the snow caped peaks on two sides of us are revealed in their sleeping beauty. 

 

After an excellent breakfast, we head out on a high trail overlooking beautiful green valleys with terraced rice paddies accented by banana trees.  The views are drop dead beautiful and the sun, while warm is not oppressive.

 

We walk until nearly 11:00 moving alternatingly up and down and finally having lunch in a grassy area.  We’re surrounded by children and have a long running conversation with them.  One of them, Oscar, is a bright ten year old with excellent English.  Oscar makes several requests to have my carabineer hanging on the back of my pack.  As we walk off, he steals it.

 

We resume the trek after lunch continuing our up and down routine with beautiful views of green valleys that would make Ireland envious. 

 

As we get to about 2:00 in the afternoon, Ram has us pause announcing that our camping spot is not available.  We only find out later that this is a ruse because some of the porters are hot and tired and don’t want to go on.

 

Just before 3:00 we crest the top of a rise and go to the top of another hill where we set up camp above the top of the trees just outside of the village of Ghyampesal.  The whole day we’ve been following herdsman trails.  We’ve moved 21 kilometers since arriving at Gorkha and are now standing atop of Ghyampesal in a military compound.

 

This is a Muslim area and we meet several of them.  One speaks just enough English and asks questions in ways that leave me feeling uncomfortable.

 

We’re all hot and dirty.  I wander down to the village water supply (paunie) where townspeople bathe.  I have to compete with an elderly women whose more naked than not.  I try not to look at her and finally simply walk away until she’s done (about 20 minutes).  I finally fill up my plastic water bucket and bring it up the hill to where I can wash up some in private. 

 

Four o’clock is our normal tea-time and we’re quickly surrounded by young children that are friendly and speak excellent English.

 

Thursday, October 16, 2008

 

A great night’s sleep.  We wake up to a beautiful day with high snow capped peaks on three sides of us.  We have a terrific breakfast of granola, French toast, eggs, coffee etc.

 

Our morning is spent moving up and down herdsmen trails largely exposed to the heat.  Initially, we move up through small villages and rural landscapes.    The going is strenuous in the hot sun but the views are magnificent. 

 

As we move higher, we’re moving up steeper grades and now find ourselves on narrow ledge trails.  The going is really taking a toll on all of us.  Around 10:00, I notice that Jim is falling behind and his face is looking pretty pink.  I take out my pulse-oxymeter and determine that his oxygen absorption is in the low 80’s and he has a resting pulse of 170.  Classic heat exhaustion.  We’re in a bit of a pickle; we’re moving up an exposed ledge with no protection from the sun and Jim needs to bring his body temperature down to get a break from the heat exhaustion.

 

After another 45 minutes of difficult going we reach some shade with a cold mountain spring.  Jim bathes his upper body in the cold water and his resting pulse comes down 30 points but still high.

 

Within minutes, we break for lunch in a nearby meadow.  Over lunch, we see that Jim is bleeding from both the back of his neck and the backside of his shorts.  A quick inspection reveals leaches which we quickly remove and clean Jim up.  Not sure whether he picked up the leaches from the spring or eating lunch in the pasture.  Jim has had a difficult morning and we all agree to keep an eye on his condition and numbers.

 

We work at climbing for another hour after lunch.  Conditions remain difficult.  Jim does not look well and is having trouble keeping up; his resting pulse remains abnormally high.

 

We make a decision to make an early camp and windup in a school yard of a local village (near Kharchok Bhanjyang).  This does nothing for any peace and quite that Jim may have needed but he could not go on.

 

Jim does get some rest and puts on a good face over dinner.  We’re hopeful that the rest and a new day will bring on a return of more normal energy levels and a lower heart rate.  If we can’t get Jim turned around in the morning, we need to begin considering a medical evacuation to protect his health.

 

Jim spends a difficult night sorting through things but is better in the morning and makes a decision to continue the trek.

 

Friday, October 17, 2008

 

I sleep modestly well but wake up during the night and change to my heavier sleeping bag since the summer bag has left me cold.  Jim lays awake most of the night pondering his options.

 

As we get up, Jim is still uncertain as to what he’ll do but gradually decides to go forward and see how things go.

 

We head out through the village moving sharply uphill over the locally carved stone steps.

 

We’re treated to magnificent views of the valleys below but earn every step that we take.  The trail is hot and steep but not as brutal as yesterday.  We’re all working hard.

 

We stop a little before 11:00 for lunch in a wooded meadow.  The trail coming up has been largely stone steps cut into the wooded side of the mountain.  The trail has generally been three to five feet wide and then falling away between 50 and 100 feet initially and then more beyond at a less steep grade.

 

Lunch is very tasty with local tomato and onion sandwiches and soup. 

 

We head back out a little after noon and resume our upward climb along the stone step trail that is now well shaded with rhododendron trees.

 

It seems like forever but by 2:00 we’ve gained 4,000 feet in altitude and camp at the very top of a ridge at about 9,100 feet.

 

Our camp has wonderful views on both sides of the ridge.  I stop to take a few pictures of the snow covered peaks before we’re enveloped  in clouds.

 

As it gets near dark, the temperature falls sharply which is a pleasant respite after the heat of the last two days.

 

Saturday, October 18, 2008

 

Good night’s sleep in the mid-30s degree temperature range.  Our usual excellent breakfast and then we head out about 7:00 going sharply up a 60 degree slope.

 

We get views of the snow capped peaks beside us and continue to climb up endlessly.  We gain over 1,000 feet in just the first hour.

 

As high as we are, bamboo grows abundantly up here.  We are constantly interrupted on our small trail but locals dragging large loads of bamboo (30 to 40 long trunks at a time) down slope where they’ll make baskets, fences, and roofs out of the split bamboo that they have harvested.  At mid morning, we hear a Nepali flute being played and find that again, these are locals harvesting more bamboo.  Both pleasant and eerie.

 

About 10:30 we’re standing at a little over 10,500 feet and Ram suggests that we may want to take a side trip to the top of the near-by ridge (a little over 11,000 feet).  Chris and I go with Ram and are not disappointed by the fantastic views.  As we reach the top, we’re treated to surreal views of the Ganesh Himal through the clouds.  We reluctantly hike back down to join Jim and Kamie.

 

We descend sharply now through ancient rhododendron forests along uneven and often difficult trails.  We often find ourselves moving through slippery, deep washes created by the monsoon rains.

 

At one point we break into what appears to be a great golf course fairway…where’s the pin for the green?  We stop here for about 20 minutes consuming almonds and dried fruit.

 

We head back down for another hour’s journey before lunch.  We slide and stumble down a variety of dangerous washes.  We finally break out of these just above a small village and continue to slip, slide, and stumble right up to the point where lunch will be served. 

 

The afternoon continues to bring plenty of adventures.  Our adventures with washes continues for about an hour at which point the trail moves to a narrow ledge (two to five feet wide) that is blocked a number of times by goats and cattle. 

 

Ram has bitten off more that we can chew.  We spend nine hours moving to our next camp with an hour out for lunch.  We’re tired puppies.  We setup a make shift camp near Laprak.  This has been a pretty unsafe day…we’re lucky that no one was injured.  Much of the last hour on our feet was descending wet slippery trails and washes with uneven step downs. 

 

Sunday, October 19, 2008

 

I wake up in a better humor.  We enjoy the usual breakfast and head out.  We head downhill for about 45 minutes to the village of Laprak.  I get some good pictures here. 

 

We move sharply downhill now and cross a wooden suspension bridge hung from steel cables.  This is followed by a very steep and prolonged uphill stretch. It’s very hot again and we feel the heat. 

 

At some point, the ascent becomes less sharp and I head out with the porters to stretch my legs a little; Kamie’s slow pace was just too much.  I’m more in tune with our surroundings than I was being part of the conversations with old friends.

Around 11:00 we stop for lunch at a water fall that doubles for the town washing machine.  There’s already several other trekking parties here so we have to navigate for a place for lunch.

 

Again, after lunch, I resume my spot ahead with the porters.  This lasts about half an hour and Ram pulls my liberty card.

 

The afternoon is full of rich green landscapes.  We come across one large cattle enclosure…a real Ponderosa.

 

I enjoy watching some of the porters from other parties.  Some of them appear to be in their later 70’s; incredible.

 

After a very long day and several hours of descent, we reach our destination of Khorlabesi on the river.  There are several other parties here and initially Ram has us set up in a recently harvested potato patch.   We change and end up on the grass and are much happier.

 

Our clothes are imbedded with salt from the exertions of the trek.  I set up a bag shower and Chris gets in the river…both work.  Jim wanders down to the feeder stream and gets clean too.

 

Throughout all of this a rather saucy looking Nepali lady has been keeping an eye on us and we discover she’s selling beer by the bucket load.  Chris and I go quickly through several Tuborgs each and then buy four large beers for the staff.  We were so tired, that I believe that Chris and I got pretty tight on just two large beers.  Everyone should have slept well.

 

Monday, October 20, 2008

 

Up and about none the worse for wear for the beers last night.

 

We follow the river on our trek alternating between river level and perhaps a 100 meters above.  A French party leapfrogs with us most of the morning.

 

The terrain rolls gently up and down and we end up in full sun by 9:30.  It’s hot.

 

We see more and more older porters.  Ram asks one of them how old…he’s 78.

 

We stop for lunch about 10:30.  A poor choice as it turns out but we make the best of it. We linger here for an hour and then head back out into the sun.

 

For about an hour, the terrain rolls up and down and in and out of the sun. Within this time frame we come across two really nice shady spots where we could have had lunch.  Grumble, grumble.

 

As we pause on the trail in some welcome shade, I suggest that we send someone ahead in the future to scout out places for lunch and camp spots especially in cases where there are multiple trekking parties to compete with.  Ram agrees and sends Kamie ahead to secure a camping spot near Jagat.

 

We hike another two hours.  A half an hour of that can only be called technical climbing up some very steep stretches.  What trail there is, is not well developed (an understatement).

 

Once beyond that point, it’s back down to the river-bank which we walk along for some distance. It too tends to take us up and down a good deal even near the river.  We finally cross a suspension bridge and move to the other side of the river.  From here we climb what seems like an endless series of stone steps forever up.

 

We finally end up at a stone walled crops field that is mostly closely grazed grass at this point and enjoy an excellent camp ground 20 minutes before Jagat.  Good job Kamie.

 

We take some time to do laundry and I read a while.  We enjoy a good dinner and test the cognac to see if it’s fit for consumption; it is.

 

Tuesday, October 21, 2008

 

A cool night next to the river made for a good night’s sleep.

 

After breakfast, we get back on the road and again play leapfrog with the French.  Our first couple of hours follow the river and we remain relatively cool.  We enjoy our picture taking in Jagat and beyond.

 

After working hard to cross a long suspension bridge with lots of hard ups, we get to Philim a little after 10:00 and after a rest continue on to Sarsin.  Sarsin is a wide spot in the road on a narrow trail but at least we have a real table to eat from with a terrific view.

 

About 2:00 we move off the main trekking trail and head east now towards the Ganesh Himal and our destination for the day of Lukpa.  Initially, the trail moves up gently but as we move further along it becomes much steeper.  We all grumble…we’re tired and this has been yet another long day.  The trail is nearly vertical for a little more than a quarter of a mile. 

 

The trail to Lukpa was supposed to be about an hour and at the two hour mark, there’s open rebellion.  Poor Kamie has to listen to us. 

 

We crest the top of a hill and see a village assuming that this is Lukpa (6,600 feet).  No such luck.  We move on for another 20 minutes and finally come upon two stone buildings…this is Lukpa??

 

There’s only a recently harvested potato patch and no camp ground.  If we weren’t all so tired, more would have been said.  I go in search of Kurpa and get him to provide the can of mixed nuts which I quickly share with all including the kitchen staff and those other staff members close at hand.  Ram and I split a beer and all is forgotten. 

 

I suggest to Ram that we make up some of the beef stroganoff from the California groceries but he is insistent that we’re having fresh chicken tonight.  Over dinner, I decline the chicken and watch Jim and Chris try to deal with the fresh chicken.  Vindicated.

 

Wednesday, October 22, 2008

 

We try to recover from yesterday’s ordeal and sleep in until 6:30.  Chris has been up most of the night with the shits and I take Jim at his word that a morning trip to the poop tent is a bad idea.

 

We have breakfast in our sorry campsite and then head out along a path in the thick forest that initially descends only to rise again with a real vengeance.  We get periodic excellent views of the fast running river that sometimes parallels our route of travel.  A good part of the morning is spent moving through jungle.

 

Chris is sick and sullen and Jim is in a melancholy mood.  Gee…aren’t we having fun.   I hang back from the two of them about 100 feet to avoid whatever bad karma that they are generating.

 

From time to time we cross large, roaring streams and gain short glimpses of the Ganish Himel mountain range.

 

A little after11:00 we stop for lunch in a pretty spot with nice views close to a suspension bridge.  We’re going to try to fix Chris up with some gourmet chicken noodle soup from California.  He spends most of the lunch break flat on his back trying to get some rest and get his stomach and intestines to settle down.  Over lunch, we see monkeys for the first time in the tall trees close to us.

 

We resume the “Battan” death march a little after noon.  The trail moves up and up constantly.  Thankfully, we’re mostly in the shade.

 

A little after 2:00 we continue to move forever upward and are now following switch backs and can begin to see some clear sky above us for the first time in several hours.  We’re quickly aware of a large number of eyes staring at us.  There must be 40 to 50 large, brown monkeys with long blonde hair on their faces looking down at us and getting pretty excited about it.  In the next moment, we see the outline of a large chroten beyond the monkeys.

 

We crest the ridge several minutes later and breakout onto a lovely scene.  The colony of monkeys begins to scatter although some of the more brazen ones remain in place as if to challenge us.  We see more chortens, a beautifully laid out Tibetan village and several long Mani walls.  The village of Ripchet (8,200 feet) is still half a mile beyond but Ram decides to camp here near what is meant to be the village school.  It’s simply too remote for the government to enforce schooling so the building stands empty but makes for a great place to erect our camp.

 

The village and its agrarian surrounds draw us like a magnet.  It’s stunningly beautiful.  Jim and I drop our packs and begin the journey up the path to check out the village.  It’s a traditional Tibetan village crafted of stone and timber frame houses next to neat fields of grain as far as one can see.  The hews of green against the gold and tan of the autumn crops with sporadic glimpses of red are restful to the eyes especially against the stunning backdrop of the snow covered Ganesh Himel range.  We see local women mostly in dark brown and purple native dress harvesting the crops.

 

Jim’s really tired and I want to explore the narrow pathways of the village.  I move on ahead while Jim lingers on the trekking path outside of the village.  A few minutes later, I hear Jim cry out briefly.  I track him down just inside of the narrow paths of the village and he’s either badly pulled or torn a calf muscle.  Whichever, he’s really lamed himself up.  This has the potential to be a real problem.  Jim can only move with considerable pain.  He heads back towards our camp.

 

I see Chris a moment later and we explore the village briefly in a superficial way.  It’s clear that everyone is out in the fields.

 

I’m struck again by how dramatically beautiful this scene is.  I simply stand there for about five minutes just drinking in this fantastic moment.  The afternoon clouds begin to move across the landscape and the sun filters down through them making a beautiful moment even more striking.

 

Upon returning to camp, we all put our heads together and decide to treat Jim’s problem as if it were a badly pulled muscle.  We put cold on the lower leg for a while and then follow with an anti-inflammatory medication, Bengay, massage, and gentle but persistent stretching.  We run through a variety of scenarios that take Chris and I further ahead for a day or two returning to pickup Jim coupled with talking through how we’d summon help if Jim has to be evacuated.

 

Over dinner, we agree to take a rest day and see what happens with Jim’s leg with a day of rest.  We’re all tired, some sick, and some injured.  We need the break to turn things around and enjoy what we’re doing.

 

Thursday, October 23, 2008

 

Sleeping last night was comfortable with temperatures in the upper 30’s.

 

Jim’s calf muscle is better.  We discuss alternatives and decide that a rest day now is the best alternative.  Jim gets lots of coaching from Chris and me about how to deal with the muscle.  

 

Under the circumstances we clean up as best we can and everyone decides to do laundry.  All of this activity attracts the locals in a steady stream and some more than once.

 

One ole gal decides that my hairy arms are something good to pet…perhaps like the monkeys.  She quickly advances from arm to chest and ends up with a wade of white chest hairs before I can object.  Decide to make the best of it and we both pose so that Chris can get another picture.

 

Our porters settle in for a good day of playing cards and socializing with the locals although there is some difficulty in getting from Nepali to Tibetan. 

 

We had already discussed over the last day that the itinerary for the Ganesh Himal was unrealistic and we’d have to make some modifications.  Ram was diplomatic but you could tell that he hadn’t fully bought into the new program.  Given Jim’s condition, it seemed like a reasonable alternative although I had quietly harbored a desire to gain some elevation on this end of the trip and the glacier sounded pretty interesting.

 

Ram hears lots of protest from all of us about the many long days.  Clear message from the old guys from USA…need some shorter days.

 

Friday, October 24, 2008

 

We plan to hike only about three hours today to Tumje (10,658 feet).  We’ll head up the trail moving northeast, cross the river, and come back southwest a little.   This short little trek is designed to be a test run for how Jim’s leg holds up.

 

We intentionally get a late start leaving close to 7:30.  The trail is well developed and gradually moves downward but with modest ups from time to time.  By the time that we reach Domje (before crossing the river) we’ve lost about 500 feet in elevation and crossed four or five suspension bridges.  We cross the river over yet another rickety looking suspension bridge.

 

Jim’s leg is about as good as we could have hoped for.  Jim shares with me that with the right amount of pressure, there’s plenty of pain but he’s wearing a knee brace over the calf muscle and walking carefully.

 

We debate about a place to camp.  Kamie goes ahead towards Tumje and comes back in about 20 minutes having selected a campsite near the village down closer to the river.  We move through brush and tall grass for a while and finally come out on a feeder stream into the river below.  We cross the river on a couple of logs and finally end up in a farmer’s recently harvested potato field (sounds familiar).

 

All things considered, it’s not a bad place but we’ve just come from Ripchet which was gorgeous. 

 

Chris decides to sit out in the feeder stream and Jim crawls into our tent as soon as it is up.  I relax down on the feeder stream waiting for lunch.

 

After lunch, we’re lazy and everyone just lays around sleeping and enjoying a warm, peaceful day.

 

Saturday, October 25, 2008

 

Woke up about 3:00 AM and spent some time thinking about my family and hoping that everyone is ok.  Plan to call Ann and Taylor on Taylor’s birthday the 8th of November. 

 

As we had anticipated the walk out of Tumje was sunny and beautiful.  The trail was generally downhill and in the full sun but not hot yet. 

 

We look back now frequently from the trail and enjoy the glimpses of the Ganesh Himal.  There are local huts and communities from time to time and all of them have an idealic look to them.   We enjoy our modest interactions (mostly gestures) with the locals. There is an unusually large number of chortens along the trail.  We also get a chance to compete for room on the trail with several herds of goats.

 

As we head down to where we’ll have lunch, we spy a group of maybe 12-15 locals with various tools over their shoulders…I suspect that this is the local version of “public works”.

 

We reach the place where we had lunch going to Ripchet several days earlier.  We have a leisurely early lunch and then head up the trail to Lukpa again.  The hike back to Lukpa takes us a little over three hours and was uneventful.  We move through jungle often close to roaring water.  It’s another pleasant, warm day with the sun filtering down through the trees onto rocks and the plants of the jungle.  Very pleasant experience.

 

Just before Lukpa, we have to cross a narrow cantilever bridge and encounter a rider on horseback that insists on crossing at a gallop in the middle of our party.  The temptation was to simply remain in the middle of the bridge and hold up his progress.  Just a passing thought.

 

Upon reaching Lukpa again, nothing had really changed.  The local matriarch was out front tossing grain into the air from her wicker basket; we setup our tents in the same places as several days before (although there is some kidding of Chris about pitching his tent over the cat-hole that he had previously filled).

 

Ram and I split a beer and I pay for beers to be split among the staff.

 

Sunday, October 26, 2008

 

A good night’s sleep and up to an excellent breakfast.  We’re off at about 7:15 and take about an hour to descend from Lukpa down to the main Manaslu trekking trail. 

 

The trail takes us down into a steep gorge heading towards Manaslu .  The water runs in violent torrents below and beside us.  Chris points out that some of the rhododendron trees on the slopes of the gorge are in bloom (pink) out of season.  Micro-climates you know. 

 

Our trail takes us generally up but with occasional downs adjacent to the river through a beautiful green forest.   The exposed sides of the gorge are pallets of hews of green.  The wild grass (more than a foot tall in places) blows in the wind and is a soft green against the darker shades of the trees and shrubs. 

 

We cross a total of three long suspension bridges in the morning.  The first is modern (steel) and in good repair.  The second is also strung from steel cables but has a wooden floor that is rotten with planks and rocks placed to keep one from going through the floor.  The third bridge gets our attention.  It’s hung from steel cables again but looks like a large animal may have gone over one side racking the entire bridge.  The far end of the bridge is so badly racked that what used to be the floor now acts as sort of the left side and we walk on the floor but the right side is no longer vertical.  I go over early and watch as Jim, Chris and the staff cross.

 

As we proceed beyond this last bridge, we continue to have an adventure.  There are a number of places where the trail has been wiped out by landslides…perhaps earlier in the year due to the monsoons.  The path is unstable and we walk across muddy trail and wet, loose stones. 

 

We stop for lunch in a well-used place near the river.  We linger here a while before resuming our journey a little before noon.

 

After lunch, we move back up the gorge with a cool, autumn wind in our faces.  After all the heat in the first part of the trip, this is a welcome and much longed for change.  Our views are magnificent and I take lots of pictures.  We cross more rickety bridges, pass through small villages, and enjoy stunning views of snow-covered mountains ahead of us. 

 

We round a bend in the trail and see an old, cantilever bridge ahead of us with the village of Deng just ahead of us.  As we watch, an old woman from the village carrying a load over the bridge takes a hard fall on a rock on her side of the bridge.  She simply rights herself and continues her journey towards us. 

 

Shortly after crossing the bridge, we come upon a woman, perhaps in her late 20s and her young child (two or three years old) harvesting vegetables in her garden.  Ram asks if we can take pictures.  She communicates that yes this would be ok but she takes a few moments to ensure that the two of them are at their photogenic best.  She’s done this before and wants to see their digital image on my camera…sorry, not digital.  Chris steps into the void taking and sharing a couple of pictures with them.  The world is right again.

 

We move beyond Deng and for the next couple of hours ascend almost constantly probably topping out at about 8,500 feet.  In several instances, the ascent is pretty close to vertical for maybe 100 feet or so.  At one point, there are simply two Nepali style ladders (a ten inch diameter pole of about 15 feet in length with notches cut into it about every 15 inches) for our use.  To our western frames of reference, this may be unusual but for everyone else it’s no big deal. 

 

We continue to move upward for another half an hour in the general area of Rana and then descend sharply into the small village (three buildings) of Bihi. 

 

Kamie has gone on ahead and secured us a place.  A large French party is here and at least two Belgium parties.  There’s not much space on this narrow mesa and our tents are already setup next to the French kitchen and just above the village crapper.  We’re all tired and glad to have a place to rest our tired heads and Jim’s leg. 

 

Ram and I share a couple of beers and watch the circus.  I kid back and forth with the porters for the French party which are clustered around us…perhaps looking for a beer.

 

Jim and Chris linger in their tents but I decide to take advantage of tea time (stoked as I am with the benefit of a beer) to update my journal.  Our mess tent is a few feet off the trekking trail so I get lots of company. 

 

First up I meet two French couples in their mid-70s.  They look really robust and are having the time of their lives.  As with many of the folks that I’ve met over my four journeys to Nepal, this is not their first time here. 

 

Next up is a rather nice looking Belgium lady in her early 40s.  I ask her how she liked coming up the Nepali ladders.  She’s polite but clearly this was no challenge for her.  Lesson learned!  This is followed by two Belgium couples that we will leapfrog with for the next couple of days that are initially reserved but warm up to us very nicely.

 

Finally, one of the French women (later determine that she is a nurse), about 40 I would guess, asks if we have a doctor in our party.  I indicate that we do not but ask what the problem is.  She’s not very specific but indicates that there is a serious medical problem with a local Nepali man.  I have a good supply of medical items and go with her to their side of the camp.  Kamie also brings his first aide kit and is prepared to act as interpreter. 

 

The nurse removes his shirt and the sight is very unpleasant.  Yellow and green puss oozes from a number of sites on his neck and shoulders.  The French have boiled up some water and after downing some surgical gloves, the nurse begins to clean him up with the use of some large surgical dressings that I provide.  There are at least two holes in the young man’s neck and shoulder than a golf ball could be buried in.  The nurse says that she believes that this is a bacterial flesh eating disease that she has seen in Africa.

 

We determine that he has had this for three or four months and that it has accelerated recently.  We load up additional large sterile gauze dressing with Neosporin and she applies them over the open wounds.  I also provide some antibiotics and liquid Advil for the pain.  Through Kamie, we try to steer him to going for medical help in Besisahar or some similar place that may have a doctor.  We learn that this is futile since he cannot be seen by a doctor without money and he has no money. 

 

By this time, Ram has come on the scene and offers that if his family wants him to live, they’ll unearth some money somewhere.  The nurse and I are both skeptical.  I ask her what will happen if he does not get treated.  “He’ll die”.

 

Monday, October 27, 2008

 

Bihi was a pretty strange place.  It felt like we were having breakfast in New York City. 

 

Once we got on the trail, it was just a beautiful autumn day.  Initially, we moved upward enjoying the warm, sunny day.  We played leapfrog with both the French and Belgiums most of the morning passing each other on rest and camera breaks.  We pass through small villages and finally stop at a large, historical chorten just outside of Ghap. 

 

Shortly beyond Ghap, we step into a beautiful jungle.  It’s immediately cooler (about 15 degrees) and our eyes are treated to another rich canvas of green colors and textures.  It’s a strange mixture of very large pine trees (frequently dead) and exotic jungle plants growing along the ground. 

 

At one point, we see a large stone (maybe 30 inches in diameter weighing 500 pounds) that has come bouncing down the slope and lodged itself permanently in the upper branches of a large tree.  The melting snow has created torrents of rushing water that has carved out beautiful grottoes of smoothly carved stone sometimes nearly 100 feet across.  They look like gigantic “Draino” commercials.

 

We stop for lunch just beyond the larger French party in an open, grassy meadow.  As soon as we stop and perch atop some large rocks to maximize the benefit of the sun, two tall Tibetans with large knifes join us in a conversation of gestures and smiles.  We share some of our snacks with them and enjoy the exchange.

 

We knock down a great lunch and grab a nap on top of the boulders for about half an hour. 

 

After lunch, we climb constantly.  The trail is really steep and offers little relief.  The one saving grace is that the path stays in the jungle and we have the benefit of the shade and cooler temperatures.

 

In the lower reaches of this trail, we pass beautiful lagoons filled with turquoise water from glacial melt.  The colors against the hews of green of the jungle are striking.

 

We grind out the continual up and several times believe that we’re descending only to round yet another corner and move back up again.  

 

Finally around 3:15, Jim, Ram and I walk into Namrung (8,200 feet)…a beautiful, well laid out village in the Tibetan style.  The French and Belgium advanced parties have preceded us and have the good camping spots in town.  Initially, we’re disappointed in this but are premature in our judgment. 

 

Rather than fuss, I buy Ram a beer and without intending to, let out a large fart that gets everyones’ attention.  Excuse me. 

 

Kamie comes back into town from an advanced camp about 15 minutes beyond town.  Namrung has spent money to set up a really nice camp ground down along the river with a stone wall around the entire enclosure.  There’s a concrete building for a kitchen and places for our porters to sleep.  Real luxury. 

 

We’re having tea about 4:00 with the clouds beginning to drift into camp making things cold and damp.  Four lone trekkers drift into our camp and Jim strikes up a conversation with them.  One guy is an Ausie, there’s a Spaniard, a Frenchman, and a Belgium.  They all just signed up together on line without knowing each other. 

 

Their porters are far behind them as is their warm gear.  We invite them into our mess tent for tea and cookies and loan them some jackets until theirs’ arrive around dark.

 

Tuesday, October 28, 2008

 

Up at the usual time and have breakfast in the open…we’re tearing the camp down so that we can send the porters ahead.  Chris notes that the temperature is 44 degrees.  We chit chat briefly with the other trekkers that came in at the end of the day. 

 

As we move higher and higher on the trail, we walk through picturesque Tibetan villages and finally are blocked on the trail by a Tibetan family moving south with their livestock.  The trail is narrow so they get the full right of way.

 

It’s nearly 11:00 as we walk into the village of Lho.  This is a large, vibrant village.  The Buddhist prayer flags are everywhere.  We move to the far side of it below a Buddhist monastery.   There are numerous Mani walls and chortens in the village.  The view of Manaslu is stunning.

 

Our camp is someone’s back yard and looks the part.  The local goats have trimmed the grass.  Initially, the two Belgium couples join us in the camp site setting up for lunch outside in the wind.  We’ve already finished lunch and invite them to use our mess tent for lunch which they do.

 

We take advantage of the sunshine and wind to do some laundry and then Chris and I head up the rather substantial hill (maybe 500 feet) to check out the monastery with Kamie.  We wanted to do this anyhow and the playing of music from the monastery increases our interest. 

 

As we move upward, we enjoy the view of the barley and millet fields as well as the contrast of the golden larch trees mixed with the dark green pines on the slopes adjacent to the village.  We see many of the locals out in the fields harvesting their crops. 

 

The views of Lho and Manaslu are terrific from the site of the monastery.  It’s undergoing a renovation and I’m fascinated by the craftsmanship of the local carpenters.  I watch a couple of them using hand planes on rough boards and even more spectacular is the use of a small ax or hatchet to true up boards.  He hits the scribe line perfectly every time removing just the right amount of material.  

 

In the late afternoon, we come back down from the hilltop and listen to the notes of a Nepali flute being played as the carpenters work.  Unrelated to that but at the same time, the young monks (mostly less than 10 years old) begin to chant. 

 

Suddenly we see a mass of dark purple robes moving down the hill.  Most of them are very young monks (five or six years old) chanting and moving towards their kitchen with their food bowls and cups.  Chris and I note that one young fellow has a metal, toy tractor about 10 inches in size.  We both smile knowingly.

 

Some time between tea time and dinner, three German climbers/trekkers (a guy and two young ladies) come into our camp and set up their single tent.  We find out later that the girls are sisters and one of them is sick from altitude and exertion.

 

Wednesday, October 29, 2008

 

We get up in a leisurely way.  The Germans are up at the same time and we discover that their English is really excellent. 

 

Our plan for today is to move a couple of hours further up to Shyala at about 11,000 feet.  In order to do that, we must first descend about 800 feet and then head back up.

 

We encounter a number of Tibetan herdsmen on the trail moving their animals to better grazing.  Most of them are on foot but a surprisingly large number of what is probably the extended family are on horseback. 

 

The trek up to Shyala is all up through the jungle.  It’s shady and we see lots of livestock grazing in the jungle.

 

After about an hour and a half, we crest the top of a ridge and walk into the outskirts of Shyala.  The place is a major boom town.  There’s construction going on everywhere.  They’re getting ready for future tourist booms. 

 

We have a short debate about whether or not to stay here or move on to the next village of Sama.  Ram is the voice of reason and once we get to the far end of the village, we find yet another excellent camping area and gladly setup here.  Ram reminds us that he has an exciting side trip up to the Manaslu moraine planned for us in the morning and this is where we’ll need to follow remote herdsmen trails to get there.  He also reminds us that Sama is colder and windier than a well diggers butt in January in Montana…no contest, we stay in Shyala.

 

As we walk up to our camp site, which is pretty damn terrific, we note that most of the village and perhaps region’s men are standing in the field nearby debating something with an older monk.  Town hall meeting??

 

Speaking of cold, it gets pretty cold just before noon.  We have lunch and grab a short nap before Chris and I head out to check out the village.  For some reason, probably the 11,000 altitude and the cold, we’re a little groggy and more go through the motions than anything else.  I had hoped to do a little shopping in some of these villages but they’re not ready for that yet…perhaps next year.

 

We wander back into camp and I read for most of the afternoon which by this time has gotten to be darn right cold. 

 

We have dinner and call it a day.

 

Thursday, October 30, 2008

 

This morning promises to be the beginning of an interesting day.  Jim goes by way of the main trekking route to Sama with Kurpa and the staff.  Chris and I are going with Ram and Kamie up onto the Manaslu moraine and glacier. 

 

After breakfast, we take our separate paths with Chris and I heading out across a horse pasture.  It’s cold enough that even with gloves on our hands, they’re cold.  All the water sources that we encounter are frozen. 

 

Ram leads the way across country initially up through a woods of partially cleared trees; we’re in an autumn landscape…the colors are brilliant.  We soon pick up a path of sorts and begin our steady ascent over some pretty steep terrain.   We cross some large washes, likely a remnant of the moraine.

 

We pick up scattered, small trees on the other side of the wash and wind up through them until the trees give out and there’s nothing left but grass and occasional shrubs. 

 

We top out at 12,100 and have a wonderful view of the moraine and glacier under Manaslu and Boda Peak.  The sight is breath taking.  Ram, Kamie and I remain here for about half an hour taking all this in.  Chris has set off in search of a gomba somewhere ahead. 

 

After a while, we decide to track him down and just as we head out, we see him coming our way. 

 

There are a variety of opinions and we wander around for about half an hour looking for a safe place to cross the streams.  Ram finally finds a place that he thinks will work and suggests that we all take off our boots and socks and wade the two foot deep 35 degree streams. 

 

Ram, forever the leader, peels off his duds and gets in the water.  At this point, I simply begin to walk across the tops of rocks which looks pretty straightforward.  Ram looks stunned and I know what his issue is…he’s remembering my confrontation four years ago on the way to Nar with a similar ice covered rock.  No ice this time Ram.  Chris quickly follows and Ram and Kamie make every effort so that neither of us does a header into a rock; all goes well.

 

Once on the other side, another debate begins about the gorge.  I ask Kamie to go ahead up a trail and scout things out.  Within 10 minutes, Kamie provides a high sign that this is the path we need to follow.  It takes us another 10-15 minutes to reach the upper edge of the gorge.  We kick back and take a break enjoying the magnificent views to include a large cave below used to shelter livestock.

 

As we resume our descent, the wind is blowing hard now.  It’s cold.  The trail has gone primitive on us again and we’ve got to be careful where we step.  The rocks are loose and there’s some mud and dung on them.  About a third of the way down, we’re next to a fast moving torrent of water only about ten feet across but it’s really roaring.  There’s a great Mani wall here with prayer scarfs streaming out their full length in the wind.

 

The side trip has been well worth it.  Great views and the adventure has been a nice change of pace from the normal trekking.

 

As we break out of our rocky surrounds, the trail now winds through autumn scrub which is a brilliant red playing out against the golden grass and fields of grain.  Across the plain of grain fields and pastures we can see the Manaslu trail ahead of us.  Kamie and I strike out ahead and enjoy each others’ company as we move towards Sama.

 

As we pass under the gompa at the entrance to Sama (11,400 feet), I’m struck by what a beautiful Tibetan village we find.  The stone buildings are well set and respect the landscape.  The autumn colors are on display throughout the village.  A lovely robust stream flows through the center of the village.  There’s a long Mani wall and a long line of prayer wheels.

 

As has become our custom, we walk to nearly the opposite end of the village before finding our place for the day.  Sama is positioning itself for the exploitation of the Manaslu circuit.  Our campsite has electricity and television somewhere but we make no attempt to find out where.

 

We’re quickly led into a grassy courtyard and see our camp already setup.  Jim looks a little sleepy but none the worse for wear.  After some mild and I suspect mock complaining about how much faster Kurpa walks than Kamie, everything is back to normal.  Jim shows me some yak bells that he bought earlier that morning with promises of good shopping later.

 

After lunch, we all head out to do some shopping returning to Jim’s treasure palace from his morning trip.  The son is now there complaining that the ole man gave the store away.  His merchandise is poor and prices out of sight.  Jim is momentarily struck by an old horse bridle with some nice silver trim but the young man wants too much for it.

 

We note that there’s an additional tent in our little court yard camp and later learn that it belongs to a German woman I’d guess somewhere in her 40’s.  We see her briefly and establish that she’s from a town near Berlin.  She looks like she’s been out in the weather too long having taken on a bit of a ruddy complexion that is probably not her normal state.  She seems to want to keep to herself and we leave it that way.

 

It’s plenty cold in the afternoon with the wind and the clouds.  We hang out and read a while before dinner.  We go to bed to the sound of a barking dog and sometime during the night discover that we’ve picked up a mouse in the tent.  Creates a brief stir for about five minutes and then back to la la land.

 

Friday, October 31, 2008

 

The outside of our tent has frost on it from our breathing.  I didn’t pee all night and have started using Dimox now so I’m in a hurry to make it to the bathroom.  Can’t just wiz outside because of the German woman sleeping a few feet away.

 

I fiddle around with breakfast and we get on the trail about 7:30.  It’s cold and nearly everything is initially frozen over.   From the beginning, our walk is over uneven ground picking our way over rocks.  It’s cloudy and only a few good chances to take pictures but get some good ones of this side of Manaslu and its glacier.

 

We’re passed a number of times by Tibetan horsemen…we hear them coming from a good ways away do to the number of bells on the horses.

 

After 9:00 the trail becomes more regular and we walk through low shrubs and see birch trees growing below the timber line. Everything is in its autumn mode and is very pretty.

 

We’re pretty spread out on the trail today.  I’m pretty far ahead and Jim and Kamie follow at a distance of several hundred feet or more.  Chris lingers about a quarter of a mile behind communing with nature.

 

The last stretch of trail before Samdo (12,000 feet) is sharply up and we hope for the village to be at the top of the ridge.  We’re not disappointed.  It’s been a cold, beautiful walk but no one is looking for more today. 

 

We break with previous traditions and pitch our camp on the near side of the village next to a lodge.  Samdo is showing early signs of the coming hordes of trekkers in a year or two and it too is expanding to handle the trade. 

 

We sit around in the sun watching our staff setup the camp.  Kurpa fixes some of the food from California for lunch and we feel warmer for the experience. 

 

There are a number of parties here in Samdo including the rather large French party.  Camping spots below Larkya will be limited.  Ram sends Sarkieman and several porters forward to stake out a camp for us tomorrow.

 

After lunch, I take a walk around the village and find it to be all that one would expect of a high, remote Tibetan village.  The buildings are simple, dark but will be warm in the winter.  Firewood, animal dung, and food are stored everywhere.  The grain is stacked and one family is butchering a yak. 

 

I come back to camp and shoot the bull with Jim and Chris a while and then read for an hour.  A little after 3:00 the last of the sunshine disappears and a cold wind comes up with a vengeance.  

 

We’re a little over a mile from the Tibetan boarder here.  A prominent trail heads up that way a little beyond the edge of the village.  Our route up through the pass heads in the opposite direction.  The Nepali side of things has the colors that we’ve grown accustomed to seeing…grays, whites, and fall colors.  The Tibetan side of things is just a barren monotone brown.

 

Saturday, November 1, 2008

 

A great night’s sleep.  It was cold and the sleeping bag provided just the right degree of comfort.  As we wash up, I suspect the temperature is in the high twenties. 

 

We get on the trail around 7:20 and just grind out the gain of 2,000 to 2,500 feet to reach Dharamasala.  The upward grind takes about 3.5 hours.  We’re treated to the north by snow capped dark red peaks of Tibet and all other quarters the gray and brown granite of the Himalayas.

 

The last hour of our ascent to Dharamasala (14,700 feet) is cold despite the sun being fully up because of the wind coming off the Himalayan peaks.  We’re out in the open and exposed, sharing the trail with occasional Tibetan herdsmen and their animals.  I don’t believe that this altitude gain clobbered any of us.

 

We arrive at Dharamasala around 10:45 feeling a little drained by the altitude gain and the insistent cold wind. There’s a single stone building for pilgrims and, if lucky, porters as well and a large open field.  So much for the idea of no room for camping.  You could camp a company of Marines here! 

 

We sit around for about an hour just recovering and watching the camp being setup.  We just soak up the awesome starkness of the site that we initially share with Tibetan herdsmen and their animals.

 

Not really much to do at Dharamasala except soak up the rugged beauty of the experience and make preparations for our ascent tomorrow through the pass.  After lunch, we rest and go over the last minute details of clothes that we’re wearing in the morning and equipment that we want with us. 

 

A Tibetan woman comes by late in the afternoon with badly swollen lips seeking help from someone.  The large French party and several smaller parties have arrived by this time and also setup their camps.  Chris and I provide lip balm, Neosporin, and Advil.  Good luck!

 

We eat the last of the California gourmet soup for dinner and knock ourselves out with a couple of Tylenol PMs.

 

Sunday, November 2, 2008

 

The two French parties in our camp are up at 3:00 and warm themselves around a roaring bonfire.  Do these folks know how to have fun or what?  They make a hell of a lot of noise…not really ready to get up just yet so linger in the tent for another hour and a half. 

 

They finally head up towards the pass around 3:40.  We roll over and sleep until about 4:20.  Bagwan announces tea time!  Jim’s headlamp is dead and he isn’t exactly an early riser under the best of conditions.  Asshole that I am, I take the moment so see the humor in all this; Jim tolerates me. 

 

We eat a hurried breakfast and Ram wants to head out about 5:00…still dark and Jim without a light.  I say something tactful like…I’m not moving until I can see where I’m stepping.  Ram lets it go and we wait another 10 minutes until we can see where we’re stepping.  Thanks Ram.

 

We move steadily up the side of the mountain in the cold morning air.  We’ve all really over dressed but rather be conservative than too cold.  Everything we see is frozen solid.  After about an hour on the trail, we stop and layer down.  Chris heads out ahead with Kurpa.

 

Jim, Ram, Kamie, and I move ahead at a slow, deliberate pace.  Initially, only the cold bothers me.  We begin to move now through patches of snow. 

 

At what I would guess to be about 15,000 feet, I feel my legs getting a little heavy with just a moderate pace and now beginning to feel pain in my left chest.  I check the heart rate monitor and see 107.  The left chest pain has been here before and know that it is likely just radiated pain from the way that I have racked my back to compensate for carrying the pack.  Still…I don’t want a repeat of 2003 with a torn heart valve so just take it easy.

 

Despite the medical precautions that we’ve taken to enhance blood oxygen absorption, we’re not 100 percent.  Jim indicates that he’s in the same boat.  The two old dogs just hunker down and continue to move forward.  We move ahead for a while and stop and rest and stop and rest.  We see Chris ahead and he seems unaffected; good for him. 

 

Once we’re in the pass (probably about 16,000 feet or so), it takes nearly two hours for us to traverse its length.  It undulates up and down and requires some rock climbing.  Coming up to the pass was a little steep but once in the pass just minor ripples. 

 

The wind howls now and every breath brings painfully cold air into our lungs.  The whole scene on every quarter is exceptionally beautiful.  I had a couple of moments in the long, cold trek through the pass that I could have been just as happy somewhere else.  Still, I’m here and glad for the adventure.  Maybe I can still chew the buffalo hide a while longer.

 

My faith in myself gets a temporary boost as I come upon Chris resting face up on a large flat rock.  Maybe he’s actually having to work a little too.

 

We finally reach the prayer flags near the top of the pass.  We stop and take pictures.  It’s amazing how quickly we can recover long enough to generate confident grins of success.  We move forward another ten minutes to the true top (16,500 feet) of the pass and at Chris’s suggestion, get that picture too.

 

The snow in most places is a solid sheet of frozen surface barely yielding to our boots.  Jim and I decide that it’s more than time to slip on the crampons.  An instant difference; should have done that an hour ago!  Chris resists being a whimp moving forward without benefit of crampons and slips a number of times. 

 

The descent is described on the map as steep with ice and scree.  I had expected a nearly vertical descent.  While steep, it was far from vertical but did require a little concentration to avoid a fall.  The crampons made it much easier.  Kurpa was moving out quickly without crampons about 100 meters ahead of us and took a really nasty spill earning 9.5 points for style. 

 

About 11:20 we stopped to have very welcome bag lunches that Kamie was carrying.  Despite a couple of energy bars breaks in the pass, we had gotten pretty hungry.  We sat on rocks in the snow enjoying the views and feeling good to have the pass now successfully behind us. 

 

As we sat there on the slippery side of the pass, we watched as a couple of local Tibetans worked their way up towards us with loaded horses.  This is certainly the more difficult way to traverse the pass.  As we sit here, I recognize how whipped I am and Jim and Chris don’t look any better off.

 

After our lunch break, we continue down the slippery slope in the snow and ice for about 30 more minutes finally coming into a mix of snow, ice and loose scree.  Increasingly, it’s loose scree and I stop to remove my crampons.  At Ram’s suggestion, Jim leaves his on too long and has some issues going over rocks and scree.  He too removes his about five minutes later.

 

The trail continues to move down now steeply over rocks of varying sizes and loose material requiring a fair amount of concentration to avoid a stumble and fall.  We can see maybe 500 feet below where the trail becomes less rock maneuvers and more a traditional but uneven trail. 

 

We work our way downward to more favorable going.  We follow this better trail on more or less level ground now at what I guess to be the proud side of 14,000 feet.  In about 20 minutes we come upon our waiting staff.  They’ve prepared tea and we enjoy a nice break.

 

Ram indicates that it’s about two more hours down to Bimtang  where we’ll camp for the night.  The trail, while pretty level in general, is difficult walking due to the amount of large debris that we walk through.  A discussion ensues about how much further we can safely travel.  Ram fesses up that we could camp about 10 minutes ahead at Larche (14,000 feet).

 

We all move forward to the stone remnants of what might have been a small building but no more.  It’s got its share of animal dung but overall a beautiful camping spot with killer views and the opportunity to extend our Himalayan experience yet another night. 

 

We quickly decide that this is home for this afternoon.  Camp quickly falls into place and each of us finds his own way to relax and unwind. 

 

Monday, November 3, 2008

 

We all agreed to move breakfast back to after 8:00; we finally sat down to breakfast at 8:40 when the sun had melted the frost from our tents.   Everything had been covered in frost and by breakfast time, it was still cold out.  

 

We conclude that we’re in a high pasture called Larch (14,100 feet).  We’re lazy and hang around camp until after lunch soaking up the Himalayan experience.  Over breakfast, we watch a squad of about a dozen Germans march past in what seems like perfect interval and in step.  What else would you expect?  

 

We also use the time to clean up our stinky stuff some and get things partially dried out.  By lunch time, we’re experiencing a sunny day in the 50’s.

 

We finally break camp and get going after lunch for the two hour trek down to Bimtang.  The journey down to Bimtang is uneventful.  Initially, we move over uneven ground stepping up and down over sizeable rocks with every step.  There’s an interesting moraine on our right that has been with us since descending Larykya; it seems to go on forever.  

 

The trail becomes less aggressive in the second hour of our descent.  We begin to get a glimpse of the peaks over Bimtang and they’re very striking. 

 

We get into the village about 2:30 and find several large parties already there but this isn’t a problem in that it’s an immense pasture with lots of room.  Kamie has gone on ahead of us and has us setup next to everyone else.  The Germans in particular have several wooden tables together and are drinking up the village supply of beer and having a rowdy good time.

 

Ram disappears briefly and comes back quickly from the other side of all the commotion; he wants us to go check it out.  The other side of the buildings is much quieter and we have the place nearly to ourselves.  Our tents and gear are quickly displaced to the new location.  Even here we can hear the Germans and the other parties celebrating.

 

Shortly after us setting up on this side of Bimtang, several Israeli climbers and their guide move into the lodge near us.  We don’t give it much thought.

 

I briefly have the urge to go be part of the celebrating but decide to just hang with our party. 

 

A yak has been butchered some time recently, likely during the festival of several weeks earlier.  The hide is laid out on top of what proves to be our kitchen fleshy side up to cure.  We end up with a little yak hair in the evening soup.  Great body!

 

Tuesday, November 4, 2008

 

We go through the morning routine and are standing around waiting to leave when we find out that the guide for the Israeli trekkers has a burst appendix.  We listen while the Israelis use their guides satellite phone to try to get help.  They reach his trekking company in Kathmandu and are told that they cannot help.  The two Israelis don’t want to pay for the $2,000 helicopter ride out nor the medical costs to try and save the guide.

 

We talk briefly with Ingrid and Gabriela, two Canadian emergency room doctors that have been with us off and on for the last three days.  They tell us that it’s likely too late and he’ll die within hours.

 

Chris and I talk briefly about footing the bill for a helicopter ride out.  Chris ventures that the two doctors would probably contribute.  Nothing happens and we head out on a sour note.

 

We walk along beautiful glaciers, moraines, and superb views of the surrounding peaks. 

 

For most of the morning, we follow the roaring river which we cross several times.  Our path takes us through pine and rhododendron forests and then back down to the roaring river again.  The morning is overcast.  We’re initially at more than 12,000 feet and the ceiling must be down around 9,000.  We’re wet from walking through the clouds.

 

About mid-morning, Ingrid and Gabriela catch up with us and share the good news that the Israeli trekkers have agreed to have their guide helicoptered out but likely too late both from the time he has left to have a medical chance of survival and the low ceiling which will prevent a helicopter from getting to Bimtang. 

 

About 10:30 we pause in the forest and three folks from the Netherlands catch up with us.  Two men and a woman…all looking very fit.  As it turns out a husband and his newly married wife, Maria, and her brother.  We guess them to be much younger than they are.  The husband is 67, the wife and brother are in their mid-50’s.  One more example of how fit the Europeans are then us and how much greater their zest for life and adventure.

 

The drizzle is steady at this point.  We stop for lunch at a camp ground and find a number of other parties there as well.  We make the best of the rainy situation and enjoy an excellent lunch mostly indoors.

 

We resume our trek around 1:00 and head for Tilje.  It’s pretty wet out at this point and we all down our rain gear.

 

We labor up and down steep trails for several hours and finally come to a hotel of sorts.  Our new friends from the Netherlands are there are encourage us to stay.  Ram overrules indicating better digs about five minutes up the trail. 

 

We get up the trail and take in Ram’s recommended place (remembered from 20 years ago).  It’s the”pits” and our staff looks miserable.  I, not very diplomatically, after a short consult with Jim and Chris announce that we need to return to the other hotel which is like New York City in comparison.  Jim later correctly reminds me of Ram’s need to be sirdar and save face.  Not my finest moment.

 

While not a diplomatic triumph, everyone is clearly happy that we’ve moved back to the nicer accommodations.  We quickly encounter Ingrid and Gabriela yet again as well at the Dutch threesome.  The two docs conclude that there’s no way that the guide has survived this long since his appendix burst in the middle of the previous night.  We’re all sad that this did not have a happier outcome.

 

Chris elects to camp out with the staff in the rain for another night.  I don’t have to twist Jim’s arm very hard to get him to share a room.  A welcome change from the last three weeks.

 

Chris and I share our tea time with the Dutch threesome over rum and cognac and pleasant conversation. 

 

Wednesday November 5, 2008