The last day of our trek in the Solukhumbu…
December 17, 2016
We headed out of Bhandar, climbing to the top of this ridge before then descending down to Shivalaya. It was straight up for three hours, past terraced farms and fruit trees all cultivated by farmers whose homes lay destroyed or were in the process of being rebuilt.
We saw different kinds of technology in action… from a parabolic mirror that heats water in a tea kettle, to save on burning wood… to a massive bulldozer creating a road that will forever alter the village as buses and trucks will now have access.
Click on the photos to start slideshow.
The children have simple games. These two children had so much fun sliding down a steep meadow on pieces of cardboard.
As we went through a family courtyard of packed dirt, we stopped to watch two boys playing marbles, expertly flipping the marble off the thumb and index finger. They scrambled about in the dirt like old pros, and gathered others to watch the impromptu match.
The Nepali children are full of energy, and we have observed them playing various games with old balls or rocks, including imaginative forms of cricket or baseball. Kids are ingenious and “make do” with what is at hand. Bless them!
It was a long way up, and we were happy when Jean Jacques, who had left the guest house later, caught up to us. We passed many mani walls, crossed the road several times, and continued up the rocky steps of the trail, with a beautiful vista behind us.
At noon we finally reached the delightful town at the top of the ridge, and had lunch next to some mani walls. The town had sustained damage as we had seen with farms all along the way, but was rebuilding. No one talked in a depressing way. They just kept working and accepting what had happened as part of life. I found it quite distressing to see the big houses in ruins and whole families relegated to squalid shacks on the hillside. I stopped taking pictures after awhile.
After lunch it was up and down and then began a relentless, five-hour downhill. The trail went from flat rocks, often jagged, to big boulders, to smooth clay potholes and water-damaged slides, to walkways next to a precipice.
Jean Jacques overtook us again with his 120 lb. pack and pointed out several large abandoned bees nests that were swinging from a sheer cliff way up high.
They reminded me of the active ones we had seen on the Melamchi trek last year. I loved this part of the trail, enjoying going in and out of the forest with its blanket of pine needles covering the rocky trail.
At last we reached the final grinding switchbacks high above the river. I really was amazed that I didn’t take a header, for we leapt from one boulder to another, wary of every twist and turn that greeted us.
What is a bit disconcerting is that you can see where you’re headed way down below, but it never seems to materialize.
At last—ending on a veritable landslide—we dropped into town. Dusk was fast approaching. Telltale remnants of the earthquake damage were visible in the many tin roofs of the small village.
What a greeting we received when we arrived at the Riverview Lodge! There was Jean Jacques, who had already showered and was waiting to celebrate our achievement with rakshi and dinner. And who could ask for a more beautiful waitress to serve us?
I can’t resist a comment about the challenges of some of our guesthouses. Like this one and the Riverside near Melamchi, the second floor rooms are reached by an outside open flight of stairs. Railings are non-existent, which, for me, is just a continuation of the open trail. This particular place was quite fancy in that it had a western toilet off the courtyard and a shower next to it with water constantly running from an open spigot into a bucket. With the river flowing by, apparently no need for water conservation here.
It was a long and jolly last evening in the mountains! Who cared about the arduous trip home? We’d face that tomorrow….
Eric
How are you ever going to adapt once you return to the States? I so miss the bliss of adventure, and oft travel back in my memories to relive what I experienced so many years ago. The ache never heals. I doubt I could ever return to the US. It would seem like a prison, somehow. And the wardens! Let’s not talk about the wardens! 😉 Hope the journey proves stimulating right to the end!!
Love you