| Crossing the Himlayan border, leaving the stark, arid, treeless Tibetan plateau, we descended into Nepal, and were greeted by lush tropical hillsides, waterfalls and people eager to see the "farangs", or tourists. We lunched on Dal Bhat--rice, curried vegetables and lentil soup--a Nepali staple with which we would become all too familiar, as we waited for our 4WD ride into Kathmandu. Winding 5 hours through terraced rice fields, sharing narrow roads with cows, water buffalo, motorcycles and pedestrians we entered the outskirts of Kathmandu.....oh the humanity; a festival weekend just completed thousands of Nepalis were returning to the city from the countrysides and the buses were packed. Tens of people were on each bus roof because space inside was full. Because Maoist insurgency had resulted in military checkpoints along the way; each bus had to unload, each person was checked, and then the buses were reboarded. "Farangs" were thankfully able to bypass these delays and proceed on toward town. Kathmandu was a treat for several reasons...it was a break from China- its food and frustrations, a chance to be understood in English again, and the place we planned to meet up with mom and dad (Mel and Roberta). The city is bustling with traffic, dusty and crowded; and, everywhere you look you find the Nepali "eyes" staring right back at you. Mom and dad treated us to several nights of luxury at the Radisson, a pleasant break from bustling Thamel, the tourist-trap central where we were constantly bombarded by touts offering t-shirts, sandalwood flutes, all manner of "handicrafts" and, of course, rickshaw rides ("hello, rickshaw?") We probably wouldn't have survived without that treat as they had us touring all the highlights of Kathmandu at full speed in their short 4-day stay. Hot off the plane they took us to Durbar Square for our first introduction to Hindu temples and we began to learn about the zillions of gods, shiva and ganesh to name two. We visited Nepal's largest stupa, Bouddhnath, walked the back-alley dirt road to Pashupatinath, and climbed the 365 steps up to the monkey temple. We toured the ancient towns of Bhaktapur, Patan, and Thimi to get a flavor for the local painting, pottery, and masks. As we often found, traditional handicrafts were now produced by the thousands for the tourists and local "students" prowled the streets trying to convince unwary tourists to visit their "school" to view their thangka paintings. For the final hurrah we ventured to Nagarkot for a panoramic view of the snow-capped Himalayas, peaking through the haze. In between touring, dodging touts, fine dining, and the power shower at the Radisson, Bill and I scouted a tour operator and arranged our 26-day trek into the Khumbu Region (Everest Region). We hired a young Nepali guide named Sujan, some cold-weather gear including 2 1970's down parka's that would prove priceless, and off we flew to Lukla. A typical day's hike lasted 4 to 6 hours leading us through tiny Himalayan villages equipped with cozy tea houses, over mountain trails dotted with yak trains carrying North Face duffles, and over raging glacial rivers via lengthy suspension bridges. I figured any bridge that could support 6 yak lugging hundreds of kilos of gear, could support us pretty easily. Our route covered just about the entire Khumbu region which basically consists of 3 valleys. The westernmost valley leads to Gokyo climbing from 2850m to 4750m. through the towns of Phakding, Namche Bazaar, Kumjhung, Dole, and Machermo. This took nine days allowing for high-altitude acclimitization, a powder-white snowstorm, a kidney stone, and a rest day. We were hosted in several small lodges owned by Sherpa families and warmed by yak-dung stoves, reminding us of our experience in QingHai. We ate carbos of every sort including pancakes, potatoes, rice, and noodles; but, our staple was Dal Bhat. Fellow trekkers we met along the way spanned all age groups and were from France, Germany, Japan, Slovenia, New Zealand, Britain, Seattle, and Iowa! Gokyo was notable for its string of 5 aqua-blue mountain lakes as well as Gokyo Ri, a steep, switch-backed hike to 5350m offering a 360-degree view of the stunning range, including Cho-Oyo and Sagarmatha. From there we crossed the Gokyo glacier and climbed over the 5330m ChoLa pass to lead us into the central Khumbu valley. Having reached the top, paired with 2 german women and their guide, Mingma, we were treated to a Nepali folktune, a duet by Sujan and Mingma which echoed off the sunny, rocky faces during our descent. The next day's hike would lead us to Gorak Shep, a freezing cold launch point for hikes up Kala Patar and to Nepal's Everest Base Camp. We crossed 2 glaciers during the trek and found them to have 3 distinct sounds: a loud boom as huge cracks split open under the pressure of the slow-moving ice, a sizzle as steep melting glacial faces released ice and gravel into the glacial ponds below, and the gurgle of water running along underneath. The hiking was rigorous, but certainly do-able. Bill would often march ahead claiming he "had a tune in his head..." and Sujan and I would trek steadily behind. Never patronizing or nagging, only once in 26 days did Sujan nudge me along, saying in his Nepali accent, "you are greatness..." In the flatter terrain, Sujan would query us on the words to Buffalo Soldier, by Bob Marley, and we traded vocabulary and grammar back and forth. Pleased that we "had a good plan" for our trekking, evenings were spent around the yak dung stove, often playing chinese chess and cards, and invariably ended as we filled our water bottles with scalding hot boiling water....just the thing to accompany us into freezing sleeping bags each night. Throughout the trip, the mornings were crisp (even frigid), brisk and clear with the bluest skies; afternoons usually brought clouds from lower in the valley, making for glorious sunsets. One of our longest days was an 8 hour descent from the 5625m summit of Kala Patar to the quaint town of Dingboche at 4410m. Here we stayed at Sonam Friendship lodge, the site of Bill's first shower in 15 days. After another rest day, the three of us climbed up the Chukhung valley where Bill would meet up with his mountaineering buddies, taking a course to climb Island Peak, a 6189m summit. He was issued plastic climbing boots, crampons, an ice ax, harness and helmet. Sujan and I accompanied the team of 6 to their training base-camp where over the course of 2 days they climbed an ice fall, practiced abseiling and setting ice anchors, and learned to arrest a fall with an ice ax on an actual glacier. Their formal expedition set out the following day, complete with a yak train, local guide, and camping crew with cook to set up camp at the base of Island Peak. Again Sujan and I accompanied the group to base-camp where several climbing teams were camped out sipping milk tea and braving the sharp wind in their tents awaiting the following day's climb. Sujan and I took it easy with a day hike up Chukhung Ri (5600m) (again stellar 360-degree views) and another over to the Pheriche Himalayan Rescue Association clinic for a gander. And, after 2 days apart, Bill met us in Dingboche with a huge grin on his face having summitted his first high-altitude peak. The trail quickly descended into rocky, treed territory in stark contrast to the sharp pointy peaks that dominated the view for the first 22 days. We lucked into a buddhist festival in Tingboche, passed several eager trekkers on their way up the valley, and savored our final quiet days on the trail. Suddenly, we found ourselves smack in the middle of Thamel, Kathmandu's gringo-row, bombarded by its bustle. No luxury hotel this time around, we angled for a ticket to Thailand and were beach-bound. |
| Kathmandu to Khumbu Trekking in the Everest Valley |