Category: Nepal Page 3 of 7

(December 8 & 9, 2018)

Hey folks! Merry Christmas and a prosperous New Year. Thanks for your patience as I get back in the saddle and finish the trip Cary and I took to Nepal last year at this time. I would never have imagined it could take so long!

You may remember that we had just finished a long, steep climb to Bayeli, where we were bombarded by a diverse group of trekkers, including thirty-eight members of the graduating class in computer engineering from Kathmandu University. As we were leaving the next morning, I was amazed to see a group of Nepali students checking their phones outside the tea house before they began their trek. It’s a universal addiction that knows no geographic boundaries! Meanwhile, we were satisfied to groove on the plethora of mountains surrounding us.

I can’t remember more beautiful trails than we were treated to on this next leg of the trek to Khopra Ridge. And because we went slowly, we savored every moment. (that didn’t stop us from taking pictures, ‘though our hands were freezing). I recall sitting on a ledge, looking into a grotto covered with moss-covered rocks and dripping vegetation. Such moments defined tranquility for me. And both of us were in no hurry nor wanted to win a race. We were there to absorb and delight in the natural beauty of these Himalayas.

Here are a few scenes along the way. Click on photos to make larger.

It’s mighty cold!

In and out of the fog

Exposure is just around the corner

Jolly members of a Latvian hiking club, met along the way

One of many huge trees

Looking back at where we started

Yaks abound in these woods

We took our time, never realizing how far we had to go, nor the difficulty of the trail. We frequently encountered yaks grazing. The worst part was a steady downhill for more than three hours. Luxuriant bamboo flourished in the woods as we reached a turbulent stream and crossed a rickety bridge, once more heading up a killer incline for another three hours. How we chided Buddhi, who assured us at every turn, that it was just thirty minutes to our destination. Yeah, right.

Suni, of course, had arrived before us and doubled back to bring tea and cookies, since we had had no lunch. In the meantime, power bars and walnuts kept us going! And we used up two quarts of water.

After six hours and fifteen minutes, we arrived at Christibung (Dhankharka) and enjoyed the best lodge so far. Beautiful large rooms, great lighting, and western toilets. How good can it get? While there we met a delightful couple, Kieren McIntyre from New Zealand and Raiko Rafeeq from the Republic of Maldives in South Asia. The evening was spent in lively conversation with guitar strumming by the cook in the background.

What a great feeling to know, as we started out, that this day would be our final bruising uphill to Khopra Ridge. And it turned out to be rather warm, and so sunny all morning that I wore my sun glasses for the first time! We came upon what looked like yak or sheep hair in several places where the animals gathered, as well as stands of impressive old trees and rhododendrum.

We also came upon wild primrose plants, caterpillars, and a pika, a tiny and unusual rodent/gopher. As you can imagine, Cary was vigilant when it came to any form of vegetation or animal life.

The trail wound through fields of high grass where you could see stone slabs on which salt had been sprinkled for the animals. This was necessary for their health, nutrition, and fertility. Yaks and nyaks (females, with smaller horns) roamed freely throughout the land.

The guest house we had just left owned about fifty of these animals, and the owners have to find them in the morning in order to milk them. In the spring they have their babies. I can’t imagine what a task that must be!

How glad we were to bump into Kieren and Raiko, as they passed us on their way to the ridge.

The climb was intense, constant, and with lots of exposure (not my favorite). We carried a thermos of coffee and some biscuits, because there was no guest house along the way to stop for lunch. Instead, we relaxed on one of the many stone “seats” (chautari) designed for the porters, to rest themselves and their packs. They were made by piling stones to create a platform. There was often a ficus tree planted in the center to provide shade, and in some there were memorials dedicated to relatives or fellow climbers.

The fog started rolling in two hours before we reached the ridge. It seemed endless, and just as we were beginning to feel discouraged, Suni appeared with more hot coffee and biscuits to help us with the last push up. We were so grateful!
After a most welcome snack, we continued up into the fog.

Don’t ask me, again, if I’m cold. Just look at me!

It’s better, now that I’m walking

Almost there

We made it!

And just as we reached the top, it lifted, giving us a glorious view of the sun setting on Annapurna and Annapurna South.

Later we would go out of the lodge and watch as the peaks came in and out of the clouds and the sliver of new moon rose above them.

The fog comes and goes.

Kieren, Raiko, and the Latvian climbers joined a large group of climbers seated around the metal fireplace, trying their best to get warm. But it was most inadequate and smoky, even using copious amounts of wood and hardened yak manure for fuel. We decided this was the coldest night so far, and donned every piece of clothing in our packs. It was less than 40 degrees inside.

At times like this you really appreciate central heating, nice bathrooms, and a place to put all the “necessities” and toiletries that you feel are essential. But are they really necessary? It is difficult to simplify life, isn’t it?

The next morning Buddhi woke us early to see the sun rise over the mountains.  Kieren had been on the ridge since 4 AM with his camera and tripod, photographing the stars and moon. We walked around the lodge on the slate steps, trying our best to capture the magic of the morning light as it came up and lit each mountain in its path. Time stood still. Nobody talked. We were all in the moment, in our own way.

We were at 12,000 ft., my hands were freezing, I had no tripod, the wind was blowing, and I was breathing hard while I took this video. It’s not the best video I have taken, but it will give you an idea of the majesty of the mountains.

December 4-14, 2018

As I look at the volume of journal pages I devoured with my scribbling during these intense few days, I am again reminded that my readers have a life of their own and do not wish to use it up accompanying me through each day’s travails and successes, regardless of how much I want to bring them with me. Now that I am at a venerable age, and getting more venerable by the minute, I have to remind myself that procrastination is no longer a viable alternative and the ever-present tomorrow may be more elusive than I care to admit. So here is a brief outline of my recent ups and downs in the Himalayas with as many photos as time affords.

Click on photos to enlarge and to see slide show.

On December 4th, Cary and I and our guide Buddhi, flew from Kathmandu to Pokara on Nepali time, i.e. four hours late.

We were met by our two guides-in-training, who also doubled as porters, Suni (left) and Kandu (right), both in their 20’s.   From there we drove to Kimche …three hours of the worst roads I have ever encountered, and that includes Mongolia! As in India, both men and women worked on road construction—widening, forming cement ditches, carrying crushed rock in large bowls on their head, and emptying the rock into the forms. An endless parade of tedious labor. At least that’s how it looked to me. Thank heaven we stopped in Birethanti for lunch, to rest our bones!  It was rural Nepal, almost unchanged since my first trip in 1988. Once in Kimche we hiked 1 1/2 hours to Ghandruk. Never have I seen so many stone steps, except in Sikkum.

Exquisite mountain views and forests along the way

Suni and Kandu—”What took you so long?”

Approaching Gandruk

During our journey we thought it would be fun to catalog the Best and the Worst of our adventure. We only wrote what stood out for us at the end of the day. Coming up are some of the highlights. You can check them out as we go along, and maybe it will help you if you ever wander into the Annapurna Sanctuary.

The first night we stayed in the pinkest building, and met the friendliest Malaysian couple.

The next day, Dec. 5th, we left Heaven View Lodge to embark on a very strenuous, but beautiful day.

It turned out this was our best day for seeing mountains

A group of students on a camping retreat

Meeting villagers along the way

After lunch we stopped in several small villages and bought knitted woolen hats for Hector and Theo, my two great grandsons. I also found a pair of handknit socks to replace the down slippers I left in Boudha.

Something I noticed on this trip was how many South Koreans we met, first on the trail and then in the guest houses. Thus began the taking of numerous selfies by those who were enthralled with my advanced age. At first it was irritating, but soon I realized that such adulation was meant as a compliment, so I smiled and learned to roll with the punches.

Mountain views were interspersed with woodland trails covered in leaves, and majestic gnarled rhododendron trees, not the usual bushes. These peaceful interludes between steep grades helped me strengthen my legs and increase my confidence. Cary, the perfect companion, stayed with me, singing her soothing Tara mantra Om Tare Tuttare Ture Soha as we trudged along.

Just before reaching the Panorama Lodge in Tadapani, we encountered (surprise!) our most challenging climb of the day, up more steep stone steps. What a great guest house this was, complete with a western toilet (my litmus test) and a dog that guarded our door and nearly tripped me up every time I went in or out. It had the worst door jam and lock, however, and I was tempted to leave the room unlocked.

After dinner at a dining room in a separate building up another long flight of stairs with a panoramic view of the mountains, we were serenaded by the Koreans singing Roman Catholic hymns. It was really lovely. Evidently the Catholic church has made big inroads in South Korea and this was a parish hiking club. I have to admit that I was a bit taken aback when one of the men in the group took my hands in his and said, very seriously, “M’am, we are all praying for you.” Again, I had to hold my tongue and keep from laughing. They wanted to make sure I survived the trek.

As with everyone we met, he also wanted to talk about our present government. The questions always started with, ”What is going on in your country?” Needless to say, the discussions were long. We’ve also noticed whenever we meet Koreans, that they carry most of their food with them, as well as their cook, and much of their bedding. And, in this case, their priest. They were a happy, congenial group and I’m looking forward to visiting their country.

It was a very cold night and the Koreans were each given a hot water bottle. How about that? We just put on our down vests, snuggled under an extra comforter, and hoped for the best.

The next three days, before we reached our high point, Khopra Ridge, were the most challenging of the trip. Not just the uphills, but the downhills as well. In fact, I found them more dangerous with their many jagged rocks and gullys, and the knowledge that if I fell it could be catastrophic.

It took us almost four hours to our lunch stop but we were rewarded with the best garlic soup, dal bhat, and milk coffee (very similar to western latte if you look past it being made with nescafe instant coffee) we’d eaten so far. This was concocted by a 14-year-old boy in his simple kitchen at a guest house in Meshar Danda, a small village along the way. We have become experts in judging dal bhat. You may remember that our food of choice at altitude has been garlic soup ever since our trekking trip in Sikkim in 2010. His soup was incredible…nearly blew our heads off! We were also particularly intrigued by the log bee hive fastened on the side of the guest house.

It was then another strenuous stretch of hours of very steep climbing to arrive at Isharu, our destination for the night. Here we were promised amazing views, but all we got for our work was fog.

Still, it was beautiful and peaceful…and we could rest at last. The trail had been varied, starting in what seemed like a temperate rain forest, then moving into areas of long grasses and rolling hills, but always with those glorious mountains in the distance. We passed a few people on horseback, but were told that they had to walk downhill, since the horses were not surefooted enough to make the steep grade. I can relate to that!

We seemed to be the only customers at the Isharu Greenhill Guest House.

The weather had turned very cold, so you can imagine how glad I was to get to a warm dining room. But soon we had to leave, for somehow the pipe that came out of the large round metal stove had gotten clogged, and smoke filled the room. Thus, this became the smokiest guest house of the trek. However, the rooms were the brightest (more than one hanging bulb!), so we stayed there until the dining room aired out. The night was very cold, dipping below 37 degrees, only it seemed colder. For the first time, I used my sleeping bag liner.

The next day was beautiful, crisp, and sunny, but the largest mountains were still in the fog when we departed Isharu. I despaired of ever seeing Machapuchare, which I saw so frequently in 1999 on my Annapurna circuit trek. I also noticed for the first time that the menus at the guest houses were pretty standard…steamed veggies, veggie fried rice, veggie rolls, garlic soup, and dal bhat. Thank heaven there was plenty of hot water and lemon tea!

This was a day of walking through forests of bamboo and huge rhododendron trees.

In early afternoon we arrived in Dobato. While having a delicious lunch at Hotel Mt. Lucky, it started to snow. The flakes were more like tiny white beads, covering everything in a glistening film of white. We changed to our rain pants and loaded up on heavy clothes.

The going was slow and slippery, but thank goodness the snow abated and the trails dried out as we went up, up and up.

Many trekkers passed us that afternoon headed for the same guest house in Bayeli, the Annapurna Dhaulagiri Community Lodge. We met people from Holland, Germany, Belgium, and, of course, Nepal. One group of students from Kathmandu University, celebrating their graduation from engineering college, was especially cordial to me after finding out my age. It was a riot! Selfies everywhere. I was, frankly, embarrassed. Cary admonished me to enjoy it. “You’re a rock star in their eyes, Mom,” she said. Too bad I hadn’t brought my guitar.

Naturally, we were the last to reach Bayeli.

I hopped right into our cozy room and rested a bit before dinner!

The lodge was packed, and was the noisiest guest house so far, because of all the students. And it had the most door sills to trip me up. That is a story in itself. Nothing seems to be on one level in Nepali buildings. You never know…a step will appear when you least expect it. But what a great time we had! We participated in a gala birthday party and spent the evening with multiple groups of students, all of us gathered around the old metal stove to keep from freezing, and eager to talk about politics, travel, and what was going on in the United States. And they knew more about our government than many Americans. Believe me!

Some of the topics covered included: Arranged marriage as compared to love marriages, the complications of a joint family (multi-generational extended family), and how it differs from the nuclear family.

I asked a lot of questions about the caste system. We usually think of it as only operating in India, but it is also alive and well in Nepal and a few other Asian countries. There are four main castes as well as numerous other ethnic groups, such as Shresta, Gurung, and Sherpa. I have many friends with these surnames. There are rigid restrictions about intermarriage among these various groups, but a lot is now changing with modern times.

One student had just returned from a tour of the U.S., and he really liked it, especially New York City. Another student wanted to start a company and go to Silicon Valley, but was concerned about the treatment of people of color and the murdering of Blacks by the police. This was a common concern, along with gun violence, that I heard voiced many times during our trip. There was a universal disgust of Trump, but this is not a political blog so you will have to read it in the paper yourself. And, believe me, it’s there…in both India and Nepal.

It was approaching 11 by the time we said goodnight, hugged all around, and turned in. I hate to think of what the temperature was, but suffice it to say that we wore our down jackets to bed! Sleep was instantaneous. Tomorrow would be an early morning.

And in the morning, there was a view at last!

Next stop, Khopra Ridge (up up up on the right)! Thank you Suni and Kandu for carrying our gear!!!

Cary and I, halfway through our 10-day trek in the Himalayas, standing at 12,000 ft with Dhaulagiri in the background, the 7th highest mountain in the world. We were too tired to climb it that day, Ha Ha!

After our month in Nepal, we leave on Christmas Eve for South Korea, and a visit with our friend of 10 years, Shawo Choeten, at his university in Gyeongju on the east coast.

Stay tuned for more details about our journey.

Best wishes for a terrific 2019 for all of us!

What a marvelous journey to Kathmandu this year! Cary and I are singing the praises of Korean Air, having traveled the ten plus hours to Seoul on two ample coach seats with extra space. Because of a long layover, we were comped an overnight at the Grand Hyatt in Incheon (5 stars!), complete with sumptuous dinner and breakfast buffets, before continuing our flight to Kathmandu.

The Shechen Guest House in Boudhanath greeted us like family and we settled in for a week of kora around the stupa, shopping in our favorite shops, visiting old friends, and enjoying new acquaintances who flow through the gardens and restaurant from a plethora of countries.

The Boudha Stupa never fails to thrill, especially at night with a full moon, and the lights shimmering on the prayer flags.

Navigating the narrow alleys with motorcycles speeding by in all directions is no worse than other years, but takes getting used to each visit. One new experience for Cary and me, however, was the three cows coming our way on the sidewalk. Just as they were approaching, oops! one was a bull that decided to mount one of the cows, resulting in her suddenly running toward us at a great speed. Luckily no vehicles were on the road when we jumped into it, just in time to avoid the stampede. I’ll save sharing about other mishaps for a more detailed post when I return!

We spent a lovely day with Jwalant Guring of Crystal Mountain Treks, who has planned many of our recent adventures. It also gave us a chance to visit his parents in their newly built home, and Cary a chance to talk gardening with his mother, Anita. The next Friday we attended a lecture given by his sister, Jenny Gurung, with whom we had circumambulated Mt. Kailash in Tibet in 2004, going to the top of Drolma La (18,000 ft.). Jenny, who works for the International Centre for Integrated Mountain Development (ICIMOD), spoke about “Reviving Cultural Links across the Mt. Kailash Sacred Region.” It was great to see her again and hear about the important work she is doing.

Here we also meet people who are giving their time unselfishly as volunteers, a welcome antidote to the negativity we are bombarded with these days. For example, we met a firefighter from Denver, CO, who is making his third trip to Sermathang to help rebuild a school after the earthquake. We visited Sermathang in 2015 and saw the devastation first hand. The non-profit he volunteers for is Team Rubicon, an organization that works with veterans and disaster relief.

One of my favorite visits of the past week was with B. P. Shrestha in Dhulikhel, an hour east of Kathmandu. I first met BP in 1987 when he ran a small guest house in the old city center. Since then he has been mayor, and initiated tremendous growth and change, including the addition of a regional hospital, university, and water treatment plant, all of which have greatly helped the health and prosperity of the community. BP also built a beautiful hotel with a view of the mountains, The Himalayan Horizon, where we stayed overnight. His grandson, Chhitiz, was a wonderful host, and it was great to all spend time together, as well as see some of BP’s new projects.

I will spare you photos of the unbelievable traffic, which I have written about ad nauseum before. It is amazing to me, as an impatient American, to see how calm and philosophical the Nepalese people are in traffic jams. There is no shouting, no gesturing, no honking. Just quiet acceptance of the situation, and waiting patiently for their time to move forward.

I can’t resist one photo of the power and telephone wires that line the road. How they figure out which wire goes where, I don’t know! One big improvement is that there is no longer “load-shedding”, the rationing of the hours of power each day. Kathmandu now has electricity 24/7, and there are also a lot of solar panels for power and hot water. Plus the wifi is terrific at the guest house and little cafes, making previously difficult endeavors, like this blog post, much easier.

Two days ago, as we were returning from the stupa, a young man followed us into a store where we were buying incense, and said “Cary, Meg!” Cary exclaimed, “Tenzin!” How marvelous to reconnect with this young man, whom we had met years ago when he was a student at the TCV (Tibetan Children’s Village) school is Suja, India, and had been sponsored by Adam Bixler, my youngest grandson. We had lunch at his mother’s small Tibetan restaurant… delicious momos. We look forward to returning after our trek for her thukpa.

Buddhi, our guide, came by this morning, full of his usual enthusiasm and buoyancy. We head out early in the morning for Pokhara and our trek in the Annapurna region.

Stay tuned!

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.

Prayer flags let you know you’re coming into town

A lovely place for lunch with Jean Jacques.

Tightly packed mani walls

Drying radish for winter eating

On the mani walls

More houses being rebuilt

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….

Continuing with the final days of the trek in the lower Solukhumbu last December…

Dec. 16, 2016

Before leaving Kinja, we discovered that parts of the Shree Buda Kinja Basic School had been destroyed and the library, especially, was in need of books and supplies. The school was in the forest not far from the guesthouse, so we walked there and were able to give money from my friends, Lynn and Robert Rubright. The librarian was overjoyed!

Here is a slideshow of the school:

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

After visiting the school, we headed out of town, crossing a long bridge over the river, and then following it up the valley.

It was nice to give our “downhill” muscles a rest for a day as we wound our way uphill through small mountain villages and lush forests. We passed many farms, and one in particular with delicious freshly picked oranges.

Walking through cardamom.

Big orange tree

We enjoyed a wonderful rest stop of eating those fresh oranges, learning about cardamom, and relaxing in the sun.

Food for the goats

Guesthouse owner

Cardomom pods

Pods with the seeds inside.

The trail turned steeply up high above the river.

Dicey trail!

Terraced fields across the river

Christmas time with poinsettias

Cittra with his beard shaved

Coming to the top of a steep incline we were greeted by Chittra, whom we hardly recognized, since he had shaved his dark beard. He was a friend of the owner of a destroyed guesthouse complex in the process of being rebuilt by Nepali friends and an Australian volunteer. It was wonderful to see these people all working together.

Owner of the guesthouse

The owner’s wife, mother of five, is weaving bamboo

Their son

It was a beautiful place with terraces and forest all around the cluster of destroyed buildings.

When I asked Buddhi to ask the owner if he ever was discouraged, Buddhi indicated that this was not something a Nepal thought about. He said, in effect, that they just picked up the pieces and went on. Quite a telling attitude, I thought. He lives with his family in Bhandar and comes every day to work on rebuilding his property. That’s quite a daily trek!

It was wonderful the way the men cleaned up the half-built dining room, set up chairs and a table, and served us the best dal bhat ever. (I know, I’ve said it before, but since it’s always different, I will say it, again).

Small kitchen hut

Cittra cooking inside

Setting up a table inside the house under construction

What a lovely and delicious meal!

Added to the dal we had superb buffalo milk yogurt. I was so full I’m surprised I lasted four more hours up to the lodge. But I was mightily contented.

It’s hard to believe how many steps we climbed. It went on and on ever higher. The views from every angle were glorious and it was fun to watch as we rose above the turbulent river on endless switchbacks.

We had a few downhills before reaching a huge meadow—an amazing expanse of farmland dotted with the remains of large stone houses. In some of the abandoned shells we found tomatoes or rosemary or turmeric flourishing. Obviously, there were absentee farmers tending their crops. There were also orchards and terraced fields of wheat and barley. And interspersed with all this were the ubiquitous mani walls. I still had pangs of sadness when I saw the tin shells and makeshift dwellings where families were living while rebuilding.

At last we were approaching our destination! We had entered the district of Ramechhap, and were warmly greeted at the door by the owner of The Shobha Lodge and Restaurant.  It had been refurbished and was partly rebuilt of wood and aluminum siding. The beautiful young cook, Sujata Pradhan, who is part of the family enterprise, is also a teacher of Nepali at the secondary school for 600 students, located thirty minutes farther up the mountain. We ended up spending time with her and making a donation along with our friends, Stephanie and Jesse King. It will be used to buy books, pens, and other necessary school supplies. She was overjoyed by our gift.

The only other guest that evening was a charming Frenchman, Jean Jacques Quinquis, a retired negotiator for Air France. We would spend quite a bit of time with him over the next couple of days and even meet him for lunch in Boudhanath before returning home. He was one of the nine men we met on this trek, who were traveling alone and had returned to Nepal many times.

Need I say that we slept well?

December 15, 2016

The night was a down vest, down jacket, long underwear, and extra sleeping bag lining night…bitter cold. We headed down the trail following close to a roaring river, and as we continued our descent the sun became downright hot. By noon we were in T-shirts.

Some climbers say that the stretch between Lamjura Pass and Kinja is the most challenging downhill of the entire trek between Jiri and Lukla, the original route to Everest Base Camp before planes started flying into Lukla. I believe them!

We went down down down!

As we began we met a tiny caravan of sherpas carrying impossibly heavy loads as they did years ago before the Lukla airport. There used to be thousands of porters like this making the trek to Everest, now just a handful still do.

We also encountered more donkeys, or mules, this time laden with hay and straw, probably for farm animals in the higher altitudes. At times the trail was like a deep carved passageway lined with rock walls and at other times it fanned out like a trampled thruway for animals.

Click on the photo to start slideshow.

I was amazed at the number of houses and guesthouses we passed, that had been destroyed by the 2015 earthquake. So many more than at lower altitudes. And it was sad to see the shacks where the displaced families still lived, usually on a piece of land above the ruined house. After awhile I just stopped taking pictures. It felt like an invasion of privacy. I had not known that over 1,000 dwellings had been destroyed in the Solukhumba, alone, very similar to the Helambu/Yolmo region we visited last year.

The trail was complicated and varied, and I was fascinated by the change in landscape and terrain from the day before. I stumbled upon a small pond hidden beside an old mani wall, the ferns and trees draped in white katas. And there were vast fields of native plants, like the highly-lucrative cardamon, a plant with large green leaves and flowers sprouting from its base. Cary went crazy taking pictures of the huge variety of vegetation spread out before us—bananas, barley, bamboo, fig trees, oranges, lemons, and ground apples. It was amazing to me that they thrived in this climate.

Will this trail ever end?

After beginning our day at 8:35 am, we arrived at the Sherpa Guesthouse in Kinja at 6:30 pm, just as dusk was settling in. We were sure neither Buddhi nor Chittra thought we’d make the entire 6,000 ft. straight down in one day. We sure fooled them! But just in the nick of time…it wasn’t long before the sun began to set.

At the bottom at last!

We were so happy to see the guest house! The evening was spent in front of the fire talking with Philip, a handsome silver-haired Canadian from Calgary, who travels alone with one small pack and a change of clothes. He is an air quality engineer, has two major projects a year, and combines his love of the wilderness with his desire to improve the environment and find ways to promote clean energy. I learned more than I ever wanted to know about fossil fuels.

What a great night!

Note from Cary: I’m continuing to publish posts written by Meg about our trip in Nepal last December. She is currently in Mongolia and all is going really well. Look forward to her sharing that trip, but in the meantime, here is more about our trip in the lower Solukhumbu.

December 14, 2016

I know I sound like a broken record, but these next two days were killers, especially the 6,000 ft. downhill into Kinja. Pretty soon you’ll be admonishing me to stay home and do stairs if it’s climbing I want! But think how this is exercising the old brain. I have to concentrate big time as I carefully negotiate every jagged rock if I want to keep from falling on my face. So far so good.

We stepped out of the Sherpa Guide Lodge early the next morning and after a quick farewell to Marcus, we started up the steep and rocky trail. What a view greeted us! It wasn’t long before the monastery we had visited yesterday, and Junbesi, faded into the distance, making us realize how far we’d come.

The trail was pretty much out in the open until lunchtime, which was the usual garlic soup and dal baht. In the afternoon we passed quite a few Nepalis and foreigners (Australians, British, Canadian…no Americans), which gave us a good excuse to stop, swap stories, and take a breath. I was struck by two different local baby carriers. One father carried his toddler in a fancy western backpack, and one mother carried her baby in a much larger type of “boodle buggy” or bassinet, holding it safe by a thick strap around her forehead. It reminded me of the way Chittra carried our bags.

It seemed that I would never get away from stairs! The last time I’d seen so many was on the Inca Trail in Peru. But they are truly beautiful, as are the fences and rock walls. And I never tire of them.

Before ducking into the forest, we passed a large field where monkeys scampered, stealing grain and causing great consternation among the farmers. They were cute little buggers and seemed to be daring you to catch them.

Another lunch of dal bhat sustained us as we made our way up to the Lamjura Pass.

The trail up to the pass was amazingly varied—rolling hills, mountains, vast forests, and rhododendron, as well as areas where the trees had been cut down.

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On the other side of the 10,000 ft pass, we passed through high rhododendron forests and the trail became littered with large, dark stones—a geologic phenomenon similar to the vast cliffs and overhanging rocks dotting the valley.

The only guest house was a rather forlorn place nestled near a damaged stupa. We were totally isolated. No town around. Just two solitary houses and a stone courtyard, with two outhouses, both long walks from the house. A black dog slept outside, curled against a blanket.

But what a warm environment inside! The fire in the large clay stove was blazing as we stepped into the primitive cabin, lit only by one hanging bulb. The beautiful young woman in charge seemed quite modern, and was an excellent cook, managing to multitask in what seemed to me like semi-darkness. A stooped old man with gnarled hands wandered in and sat by the fire. He was no relation, but evidently came to eat and sleep. People cared for one another in the mountains.

We took turns sitting on long benches with lacquered tables in front of them, and enjoyed good conversation, Buddhi’s dancing, and an excellent Sherpa stew…accompanied by homemade mo mo’s compliments of Buddhi. We were offered rakshi, a millet liquor made in the mountains by our hostess, and sure enjoyed it! On top of running the kitchen and rakshi businesses, she also tended a garden in a small greenhouse, where she grew the veggies used in the stew.

There is nothing like a sunset in the mountains!

Now the Day is Over,
Night is drawing nigh;
Shadows of the evening
Steal across the sky.

December 13, 2016

It was a strenuous slog to the monastery which, though there were a few monks,  was primarily a nunnery for Anis (nuns) in retreat. We traversed a dusty, circuitous road that was both rutted and wet, rocky and steep. The landscape was filled with fields of barley, metal poles where kiwi fruit is grown, and dry winter wetlands  with watercress still growing.

Looking back on Junbesi, our guesthouse is the building with the red roof in the center left, and the house that Jwalant helped build is above the town in the upper left with the green roof.

Along the way:

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We arrived at the monastery at noon and went into the large temple where low chanting was taking place.

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It was a perfect time to arrive, since lunch was about to be served. We were led to some cushions lining one wall of the elaborate main temple roof and offered lunch as well. What an unexpected treat! After the chanting , the Anis (all with shaved heads and beautiful, sunny faces), took out plastic bags and various-sized bowls. They were served by nuns going up and down the aisles with enormous containers of food.

Before serving the rice, a large panful was put on the altar. Then the Anis ladled the rice into their plastic bags and the dal, veggies, and yogurt into their bowls. Each Ani had one small spoon for eating. Our food, however, was served on metal plates. Everyone ate in silence, making small balls of rice and dipping them into the other food. And all the while the Anis were smiling and gesturing at us in welcoming fashion. It was a lovely experience.

After we had finished eating, cleaners came by, sweeping and mopping the floor between the rows of mats. Then the Anis arose, quietly, filed out, and went about their various activities while we went to the altar to receive strings and necklaces that had been blessed by the Anis.

We made our way around the monastery and down the stone steps. I climbed more steps on this day than in my entire lifetime…or so it seemed. Until I had reached the bottom of the many-tiered monastery I had not realized how steep the climb up had been! I got a kick out of the animals, especially a couple of massive cows, trying to negotiate the steps, as they worked their way to the small patches of grass and garden tucked away on each terrace.

So many steps!

That poor wandering cow

Every one pitches in … working hard sifting building materials

Retreat cabins on the hillside

Halfway down we came upon an open field and stopped for tea at what looked like a greenhouse. There were colorful tables filling the room, and benches covered with rugs. The floor was packed dirt, which the owner sprinkled with water to eliminate any dust….an interesting touch. A woman was sitting outside in the sunshine, weaving bamboo baskets. It was a quiet, reflective time.

I was glad when we branched out onto a short cut, which I wish we’d used on the way up. It was a winding, rocky trail and went over a roiling creek by way of several wooden bridges.

The woodland trail ended at the longest mani wall I’d ever seen, not far from the house Jwalant, our trek director, and his friends built for a family whose previous home had been destroyed in the earthquake.

New home for a family

Continuing on to Junbesi, we passed monasteries with brightly painted windows, in various states of repair and disrepair after the earthquake.

Love those windows!

As if that wasn’t enough for one day, we decided to hike up the steep hill above the guesthouse to see the other house that Jwalant had helped build for a family who had lost their home in the earthquake. We had a lovely cup of tea with the Mom and her daughter, and Buddhi and Cittra before heading back home.

That night after dinner we talked with another new friend—an Englishman, Maurice Possner. We covered Brexit and Trump, as well as the financial problems in India. Then we started relating our extensive Nepali adventures. Like him, one of our favorite places was Langtang, so we compared notes and realized that we had both been through the charming little town shortly before it was obliterated in the 2015 earthquake. It’s still hard to believe that 600 villagers and 250 trekkers perished in a matter of minutes. Maurice has been back and told us that those who were away at the time of the disaster have returned and are looking to the future and rebuilding higher up. My, I do love this country and its people. They have such courage.

I lay in my bed, a colorful Tibetan curtain behind me, and looked at the same full moon as last night. The events of the day played in my mind. I cannot do justice to the feelings I have as I struggle up the trail each day. I feel so alive and so aware of the natural beauty all around me. And so at peace….

December 12, 2016

The next morning we said farewell to our beautiful hostess and started an intense seven-hour trek to Junbesi. Well, for me it was seven hours… the guidebook time is 3-4 hours, but remember you need to add an hour per decade above 50 years.

Not too long after we left, we crossed a high bridge over a river with spectacularly painted enormous mani stones below, which Lhakpa had told us her family had painted.

We climbed for several hours over trails with scary exposure, deep valleys, icy patches, and steep inclines, where you had to be vigilant every moment.

By midday we had reached a great restaurant recommended by a German couple we had met in Ringmu, The Everest View Lodge at Beni 7, Phurtvang.

There we enjoyed an exquisite curry made from fresh orange squash that looked like pumpkin, and had been picked right out of the garden. It was served by a peripatetic cook, who seemed to be on roller skates as he flew form one task to the next, with three pots going on the open stove.

We chatted with a father and son from Huntington, Long Island. They, like us, were trying to stay off the subject of our recent election, but that wasn’t to be. We would meet them several times down the trail as they forged ahead.

A range of snow-capped mountains followed us all day. Over on the left was Everest, but, as usual, it was so far away that it looked smaller than the rest.

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We knew we were getting close to Junbesi when the road reappeared, and we saw construction work. Chutes for the river water were being built to generate hydroelectricity, and it was definitely tearing up the river and its banks.

Junbesi had been hit hard by the earthquake, which had mostly spared the areas we had been in the previous days. The stupa in the center of town was destroyed, as well as the school. Both were being rebuilt.

It was dinnertime by the time we reached our guesthouse in Jumbesi and I was all excited about writing up my feelings and observations after what, to me, was the best hiking day ever…when in walked Victor, a charming Norwegian gentleman. Two hours later we were still talking. I was struck by something he said that has been true of my travels for the last thirty years. It’s the people you meet along the way that add meaning and depth to the trekking experience. I always had this feeling during my earlier days when I was traveling alone with no contact with the outside world, whatsoever, and had the choice to write about the day’s excursion or interact with those with whom I came in contact. I usually chose the latter.

Something else also struck me during the next six days. This was the first time in all my trekking that I had encountered so many men traveling alone, most of them coming from Lukla and heading for Jiri. They were middle-aged, fit, and many returned every year to be alone in nature, get off the hamster wheel of their busy lives, and recharge their batteries to go back to “the world of restless men.” We met at last eight such men, some in the guesthouses and others on the trail. One fellow said he always starts around ten in the morning, after everyone else has left, and walks until dusk. If he can’t find a place to stay, he simply pitches his small tent in the woods for the night. These are men who love solitude and love being immersed in the wild.

Just before bedtime we were treated to a full moon over the mountains. No wonder we’re all a bit hyper. And I thought it was the clear mountain air!