diary of a brave mountain explorer

I have returned to Kathmandu having spent the last eight days climbing over mountains and through jungles. I kept a small written journal of the adventure, the first part of which I've roughly transcribed below. A selection of relevant photos follows the written text, and I'm going to try to finish the transcription before I leave Kathmandu tomorrow. Enjoy.

The Trek, DAY ONE: Birethanti

Departed Kathmandu at 6:30 this morning. Around a hour into our eight-hour bus ride, we ground to a halt. An accident had stopped traffic in both directions when one van attempted to overtake another on a blind curve. You are 30 times more likely to die in a car crash in Nepal than in a civilized country, so this traffic mishap should not come as a shock. Our stop facilitated the purchase of some rather delicious sugar and egg dumplings for a trifling cost.

Made it to Pokhara by 3:40, just in time to miss the last bus to our trekking site. Instead of spending the night in town, we paid a cab driver Rs 1000 to bring us to the site.

After a slow start, wrong trail, botched fording, and bramble adventure, we were on our way... until we hit a checkpoint. There we learned that we would have pay Rs 4000 each for permits. Sucked up the cost, and left the checkpoint in the poring rain. Two minutes in, we were both soaked.

Arrived in a small town, where we found a cozy little inn with dry beds and hot meals. Currently writing this from the aforementioned bed, having already enjoyed the aforementioned meal. Power is out, so I'm enjoying the necessity of writing by candlelight. No idea what time it is, as I have forsworn a watch. I do know that after the combined Rs 8000 fee, our expedition is running low on cash. We shall see.

The Trek, DAY TWO: Banthani

Covered a good deal of ground today on our way to Banthani. The day got off to a late start while we waited for the early morning rains to subside. When the sun broke through, we geared up and headed out, only to run into another delay while registering for a TIMS card. Cost us an additional Rs 200 a piece, it's meant to help track trekkers. We filled out the paperwork and were on our way.

Climbed out of the jungle valley and into the mountains along the path of a fast-moving river. The river was fed by everything from the cascading waterfalls in the distance to the streams that trickled down out path. Everywhere you looked there was water... and goats. We passed by numerous herds, but it wasn't until the second bridge that we got ourselves into a genuine goat traffic jam. Three to four hundred stubbornly reluctant goats were being herded across a bridge that they very much did not want to cross. Somehow the herders managed to beat their flock across, as otherwise I expect we'd still be up in that mess.

Today's climb was one of the most challenging of my life. This has as much to do with the weight of my bag (heavy), the slope of the climb (steep), and the 110% relative humidity (wet) as it did with my inexperience with such climbing. You keep telling yourself that the first day is the hardest though, and I wasn't about to complain.

The views from the trail made all the pain, sweat, and exhaustion worthwhile. The sense of satisfaction of a day's accomplishment is in some places contrived, but rarely are those places the tops of mountains.

Tomorrow we climb to Ghorapani at the base of Pun Hill. If the weather holds, it should be a fairly easy hike. Our combined finances total Rs 3195. Budgeting Rs 850 for lodging and Rs 900 for water, we are left with Rs 1546 for food, transportation, and miscellaneous expenditures. If Rs 1560 sounds like a lot of money, it might help to appreciate that we're trying to get two people by for five days on around $20. But this is Nepal, so we're hoping for the best.

The Trek, DAY THREE: Ghorapani

Woke up to a rather spectacular view this morning. Looking out over the valley from 2200 meters, the morning air was clear of fog and we could see the Himalayas stretched out all around us. Didn't linger with the view long before filling our canteens, grabbing our clothes off the line, and setting off. The trail was especially muddy, with many goats tramping on the saturated ground. But the trail wasn't as steep, and it was well shaded by jungle overgrowth.

The most memorable event of the day came when Devin and I came upon a waterfall. Waiting for another trekker to relinquish a photo spot, Devin hurried down to claim it while I assumed the role of photographer. Switching roles, I made my way to the top of the waterfall to the rock from where Devin had just posed. Moving out of the way of a branch blocking the shot, I suddenly felt my boot's grip let go.

The next few seconds went by in slow motion. I checked to see if there were any rocks or branches that I could catch myself on. Seeing none, I did my best to control my fall. Kicking off a little from the rock, I stuck my legs straight down, that they might absorb the impact of hitting the pool of water of uncertain depth at the base of the falls. I heard Devin cry out as I gulped in a deep breath of air, and then I hit the water.

I was fully submerged under the pool, suggesting that it must have been at least six feet deep, and I fought my way to the surface as the current pushed me downstream. I broke the surface with my hat and sunglasses still remarkably on my head and face, and kicked my way to the riverbank. I was able to grab on to a large rock and haul myself out of the frigid water, calling out to a very worried Devin that I was alright.

I had to make my way downstream a bit more before I could find a safe way to climb out of the gorge and back on to the trail. Sopping wet, but unscathed, I reconquered the rock before continuing up the trail to a sunny clearing. There I rung out the water from my socks and boots, then suited up and carried on.

Meandered through the rest of the trail to Ghorapani without coming across anything nearly as eventful as a 40 foot drop down a waterfall. We've decided to spend the night here, allowing clothes to dry and relaxing at 2800 meters. The plan is to wake up wicked early tomorrow and climb Pun Hill to enjoy the early morning views from the peek. Now we're just enjoying our Rs 100 accommodations, and trying our best to keep warm at this higher elevation.

The Trek, STILL DAY THREE: Ghorapani

Just discovered that the fireplace I was so happy to discover is capable of horrible atrocities. In this case, it has melted one side of each of my boots, rendering my faithful footwear warped and cracking, and compromising their waterproofing. These boots have embedded themselves in the soil of 22 of the 25 countries I have ever visited, and without getting sentimental, they mean something more to me than the utilitarian relationship I share with most of my footwear.

I will have to make them last through the trek, as I have no other boots, but I have hopes that I might be able to patch them up with duct tape and superglue once I get back to Kathmandu, then slog along in them through my return to the United States. There, I can give them a proper burial in my closet. It's only fitting.

The Trek, DAY FOUR: Ghorapani

Made it down from Pun Hill after waking up at 4:30 as planned. We strapped on our packs and lumbered off in the direction of the trail, meeting up with some slower-moving trekkers as we joined the trudging caravan of climbers making their way to the top. When I made it to the summit, I was greeted by the sight of many trekkers, stretching, yawning, and sipping hot beverages, waiting for the sun to break the horizon. Devin and I camped out halfway up an observation platform and watched as the snow-capped peaks that surrounded Pun Hill caught the rays of the still-invisible sun.

"Hill" is a misleading term to use when referring to the peak we just summited. At 3210 meters, Pun Hill is the tallest mountain I have ever climbed. At nearly 10,000 feet, it is taller than any American mountain east of the Mississippi, and while it is dwarfed by the company of the seven and eight-thousand meter mountains in its view, it is still high enough to feel the effects of altitude.

The view from the top was spectacular. I watched the sun rise over the tallest mountains in the world, and felt a fierce longing to return to Nepal with the intent of reaching their snow-capped syzygies. We packed up and descended as the mid morning clouds rolled in, obscuring the view from all sides as they enveloped Pun Hill. We made it safely back to Ghorapani, and not it's time to pack up and head our on the long road back to Naya Pul.

The Trek, STILL DAY FOUR: Ghandruk

Today we covered, in one day of heavy trekking, what our guide book suggested should take three days. Leaving Ghorapani and Pun Hill behind, we climbed over a mountain pass where, above 3000 meters, we met up with a rather large group of trekkers who were making their way down the same trail we were following. We fell into step with them, slowly making our way through the clouds.

The hour we spent with this group made me deeply grateful for my choice in trekking companion. Devin has never once slowly plodded along, asked me to stop or slow down in order to follow my footsteps, requested assistance on simple descents, or even legitimately whined. The girl in front of me did all of these things, and then some. So I was not too unhappy to bid them farewell at one of the small villages along the way.

Devin and I did have our egos inflated before breaking off with them when one girl registered her astonishment that we had neither porters nor a guide. We are, after all, brave and manly mountain explorers.

Set off at a much quicker pace as we began rapidly descending into the cloud forest. Moss-covered vines, brightly colored orchids, and waterfalls abounded. Were making good time when we stopped for lunch, and decided to press on to Ghandruk.

Felt the first drops of rain as we left our lunch stop. Before long it was legitmatley raining. The rain did not stop for three hours, but neither did we. Watching as our trail quickly turned into a river, we slogged our way through the jungle, employing our waterproofing materials to keep our provisions dry. This was the Nepali monsoon. First it rained hard, then it rained harder. Fat drops of water plummeted from the sky resounding a wet percussion my my thoroughly saturated Tilley Hat.

The trail was often washed out, forcing us to attempt several dangerous "river" crossings, but eventually we began to see signs for Ghandruk. After a slippery diversion to a picturesque Hindu temple, Devin and I looked forward to hot showers and dry cloths. We found neither.

What we did find were leeches. Dozens of them. After I salted off a small one from my thumb, Devin and I check ourselves only to find our lower legs and feet a bloody mass of open wounds and slug-like vampires. In order to better feast on your blood, leeches release an anticoagulent which keeps you bleeding long after they've finished their dark meal.

Bandaged ourselves up as best we could, then retired to the chilly dining room. We've done a good job of cleaning up the room which, with its blood-covered floor and blood-soaked rags, resembled a Civil War-era surgeon's tent. While Devin's chief worry is the possibility that leeches may crawl into his bed and attach themselves to the more sensitive regions of his anatomy, mine is still my boots, which are looking more destroyed by the hour. Still, I feel confidant that they can carry me out of the Himalayas when we depart tomorrow. Assuming the leeches don't kill us in our sleep.

The Trek, DAY FIVE: Pokhara

Woke up a few times last night before finally staying awake to watch the sun rise. Delayed our departure to allow the sun to dry off our clothes, then geared up and headed down. The trail down to Naya Pul is fairly long, but it almost entirely downhill.

Spent the early morning pounding down stone steps, now low enough to leave the cloud bank and appreciate the view. The sun is shining, the air is clean, and everywhere around us stretched the verdant green of the Nepali highlands. Cutting through tiny hamlets and open farmland on pleasant cobblestone pathways, bordered by stone walls, it's enough to make you believe you're traipsing through the English countryside.

The trail gave way to a gentle slope following a dirt path down the valley. We made excellent time on this nearly level terrain, and it was a good way of easing our way out of the trek.

Arrived at Naya Pul, saw a big black monster of a snake disappearing into a rocky outcropping, and boarded the local bus back to Pokhara and pseudo civilization. I suppose that's the end of of the tale of the trek, though as I'll be heading out Chitwan National Park tomorrow, there are more adventures to come.

Spent the rest of today purchasing ridiculous Nepali outfits, which we dawned for a victory diner. I'm pretty exhausted, it's late, and I'm waking up at 4:00 tomorrow. "Why?" you ask, well, read on...

The rest will have to wait until the next update. It really was an incredible adventure, and I'll never forget the experience of slogging through the monsoon, or watching the sun rise over the tallest mountains in the world, or plummeting down that waterfall. Pictures of the adventure can be found below, so for now I'm going to see about enjoying my last full day in Nepal.

Heading up and out of the valley, passed fields of newly-planted rice.

Hundreds of goats pouring down the mountain side.

Climbing higher out of the valley.

Reconquering the waterfall that nearly ended my trek.

From the summit of Pun (Poon) Hill.

The view from the top.

Making our way into the cloud forest.

Peering through the mist and the fog.

Trekking along through the jungle.

Washed out paths on the trail to Ghandruk.

Ghandruk, by far the largest village we came across during the trek.

Nepal? Or the English countryside?

English countryside, gotta go with English countryside.