East Of The Sun, South Of The Sky: Who Cares About Altitude, When You Got Attitude

We took a local bus, (the inside decorated more like a funky living room than a bus, flowers and tassels and colored lamps hanging from the ceiling) from Kathmandu, 8 hours to Sryaphu Besi, the town where the our trek began. It was meant to be "the worst bus ride ever" for taking 8 hours to go a bit over 100 kilometers. And seeing the road, I understand why. After a little while in the very back seats of the bus (I really always seem to get the last seats in all buses), cramped legs, tight knees, and sore shoulders sharing the last 5 seats with 7 people, we quickly moved to the roof. And "the worst bus ride ever" became my favorite bus I've taken. The top of the bus, like the top of a muffin, is better in every way. You have all the leg room you want, you can lay on the stacked luggage and sleep, there's fresh air, and you feel like you're riding a giant metal animal. Check points where common along the road, and I still don't understand why it works this way. But the bus stops around the corner from the check point, everyone climbs down from the roof, and walks right past the armed military men until the bus is around another corner, out of sight, and we all climb back on, ride our metal carrier to the next check point, climb off, and walk past, as if there always just happens to be 15 people walking with a full bus haha. The last section of the road to the trail was also one of the few times I really felt close to death. The road was so bumpy, steep, and small that at many points I would look over the edge of the bus, and not only not be able to see the tires, but not able to see the edge of the road, just 800 meters of Himalayan hill to the valley of stones bellow. We got to Sryaphu Besi, we being myself, Laura, from Denmark, whom I met on Laos last year, traveled with again for a bit In India, and now again in Nepal, and another Dane, Freddy, whom Laura knew from home. The three best pals around. Our star-crossed trio left, armed with cheap rip off sleeping bags from Kathmandu, to walk around the highest mountain range in the world, the Himalayas. We decided to link a few trails together, starting with "The Tamang Heritage Trail."

The first day of a trek is like falling asleep. It takes a bit to fit your bag, pack it right, you're not sure how long it takes you to walk a kilometer, what pocket is good to have what items in, but slowly, like falling into sleep, it becomes natural and comfortable and you finish, waking up, knowing all the comforts and ease of your bag, your pace, hunger, and all the small knowhows that turn your days walking, into days living.
After a first day of oogleing a tiny view of a snowy peak, and walking up the steepest of inclines, we got to our first village for the night. Trekking in Nepal is different than trekking in Idaho in that it's wild sure, but the trails your walking on are used by locals everyday as a way around, and instead of carrying food and a tent and making camp, you walk from village to village. It reminds me of how old adventurers must have traveled, not taking a bus or train, but walking over a mountain to the next village, eat and sleep, and move on to the next. And instead of moving from camp to camp, having all the time we wanted we could stop in a village for two days or three if we'd like. The first village we got to was called Gatlang, and like all towns along the tamang, felt like stepping back in time, and/or stepping into a video game. The villages are full of old stone path roads and wood carved houses, where kids yell "Namaste!!" from behind dirty faces, yaks are pooping, and village life isn't just for tourist show, but how they live. It was also interesting that the Tanang area, bordering Tibet, is more like Tibet, than Tibet is. China has pumped so many Chinese into Tibet, and forced the culture into tourism, that there's not much traditional Tibetan culture left, and the Tamang area houses a more authentic Tibet. Our days became, like they do when you're just three friends walking in the woods and mountains all day, perfectly simplistic. You stop caring about things that aren't immediately relevant to your day, and start thinking about what song can you change the lyrics to be about Dal Bhat "I like Dal Bhat and I can not lie", "Can't stop till you get enough, Dal Bhat" Dal Bhat, is a perfect food. It's a Nepali dish that consists of a plate full of rice, Dal (lentils), curry (normally potato curry), and a pickled something, and if rice, lentils and potato curry isn't enough to make you write songs about, the best part is you get free refills until you can't eat anymore. And for 12 days, lunch and dinner, this was what I ate, the cheapest, and best way to get 24h power. And endless sing-songs down the trail. Each village had it's own charm. And the best, being a hot spring. Tatupani was home to this hot spring. I had one of those seemingly unobtainable moments when you feel like where you are, and what you're doing shouldn't be allowed because of it's perfectness. Sitting under a hot spring waterfall with a view of the Himalayas after trekking all day really feels as otherworldly as it sounds. Going from tea house to tea house. And Dal Bhat to Dal Bhat. After the first few days, the weather turned sour, and we were transported from walking on mountains, to walking through clouds. It rained and fogged and misted for a few days, and trekking turned cold, hardcore, and incredibly fun. Walking up mountains you know are 3000 meters, were you should have a view into Tibet, but all you can see is not your friends behind or in front of you, it's haunting and strange. On day three or four we decided to do a little side trek, and free Tibet. We walked to the Nepali Tibet border, three Heroes ready to stop china and free a county, but Freeing Tibet didn't work out as well as we'd hoped, we were at the border, a strange, cloudy, quiet place, with a big building on the china side, and small buildings on Nepal. Looking around to see if we could put just one foot into Tibet we got quiet anxiously hurriedly shewed away by a heavy armed military border man who really didn't like that we were there. So quickly walking away from China's Tibetan border, we sat in a tea house to have some Tibetan tea. Yak butter, salt, and water. You can decided for yourself if that sounds nice. The next days were filled, like most of trek, with Laura and Freddy teaching me Danish. So fun! And I now feel like I know more Danish than Spanish.
The Tamang and Langtang area is home to my favorite animal is the whole big wide world, the Red Panda. Just being in the area where they live was enough for me, and the chance to see one was almost overwhelming, always looking to the trees, but as the world goes sometimes, we didn't spot one, seeing as they're incredibly elusive and rare. As soon as we entered the Langtang portion of the trek, the trekker traffic grew exponentially, it's a considerably more popular trek than the Tamang. Where the Tamang is more of a cultural trek, Tibetan villages and smaller home stays, all the stops along the Langtang are there for Trekkers to sleep and have tea, and the views of the mountains are what draw people to Langtang. The first days are walking through rhododendron forests flanked by a river valley, until you get above the tree line, and are surrounded by the tallest, and most tearjerking mountains I've seen yet. But always to remember the crowning jewel of the Langtang, in the last village, and the end of the valley, after days of walking, there, nestled bellow glaciers, peaks, and snow, is a cheese factory, a yak cheese factory. What. The. Balls. A step farther into the otherworldly than the hot spring is the idea of trekking to a yak cheese factory in the middle of the Himalaya. The coolest thread of my life story. But tragically, when we arrived, they were in between batches, and there was no cheese to be had inside the factory, everyone around had their cheese though, so we were not shorted on eating plenty of yak cheese. In this last town of the cheese factory, Kajim Gumpa, we spent three days. We spent a day walking to a glacier, and took a full rest day to acclimatize. Altitude sickness is a very real risk while trekking at such high altitudes, and something we had to plan around. Never climbing higher than 500 meters a day, and if one of us felt any symptoms, headache, nausea, lethargy, dizziness. We would stop, or descend and maybe take a night to acclimatize. In the last town, we intended if the weather permitted, to summit Tserko Ri a 5000 meter peak, (almost, really 4984m, 16,351 feet) that was a 1000 meter difference from where we slept, we spent a day before attempting, to get or body's used to the high altitude. And finally, when the day came to climb, we woke up at 4:30am, to beat the clouds. During this time of year, everyday is almost like clockwork, it's crystal clear in the morning, and slowly gets more cloudy throughout the day, and by 3:00 or so, it starts to rain. And the next morning, clear. Up at 4:30, we started walking, being told it would take 8 hours, we planned on 10. And just go as slow and as far as we needed to go, paying attention to the weather and our bodies. Foot by foot we climbed as a team up trails and through rock piles up to the snow line, and on. It really felt hardcore. Clouds blowing in and out, crazy winds, and the most amazing sights my two eyes have seen, as well the highest point I've been in my life. And after really feeling the lack of oxygen so high up on the top we took a few photos, ate a snickers I had been carrying for 10 days, and began our decent. Freddy had said he was starting to get a bad headache, so we made haste, and about 100 meters down, he started to vomit. We had a case of the ol' altitude sickness on our hands, and some serious symptoms, he took some diamox, and we knew the best thing to do was get down as fast as we could. Laura and I took freddy's bag, and we rushed down the snow, rocks and trail 1,000 meters, some dizzy steps, another vomit, and 4 hours of intense decent. We got back to our room and all three of us fell asleep, ready if Freddy was going to continue feeling bad to descend even lower, but luckily he was okay, and we all woke up feeling fresh, hardcore, and full of good spirits. We packed our stuff, and went down the valley we'd come up, to the place we started 12 days earlier, and made our way by living room styled bus, back to Khatmandu. The End.

Now I'm in pokhara, what feels like the trance hippy capital of lazy city Nepal. (this is a place where there's a restaurant that serves breakfast until 3pm hahah, and doesn't even serve lunch until after breakfast) Freddy, Laura and I lazied around the lake for days reading and lazing, and now, these three friends, go their separate ways. Laura and Freddy are rafting to Chitwan national park to see tigers and rhinos, and for me:
Yesterday I cut off all my hair, today I make a blog, and tomorrow, I walk alone, into Annapurna, to do another trek, the Annapurna Circuit. This time I'll be gone maybe 20 days, around the 10th highest peak in the world. Can't stay away from the mountains for long. I'll write again in 3 weeks!

NnNnNnnNnNoOoOoOAaAaAaaaAaAHhHhHh!