Trekking to Annapurna Base Camp

  Our first day of the trek to Annapurna Base Camp got off to a slow start. The festival of Dasain is the most celebrated in Nepal, includes the ritual slaughtering of goats as offerings to the gods, and plays havoc with an already haphazard transit system. We eventually arrived at the trailhead by noon, and started the steep climb up to Damphus, despite many levels of resistance from Raven. We had planned on making more distance our first day, but as we finally crested the top of the ridge, dark clouds were spilling over into the valley, visibility and temperature dropped instantly. We checked into a multistory ‘guesthouse’ just as the rain started hammering on the metal roofs. 

  The next morning’s clear blue sky provided sweeping views of  Annapurna II and IV, Machapuchare, and even a glimpse of Dauliguri, all around 7-8000 meters. We were all in great spirits, and made it to Landruk, further than we’d hoped. There had been lots of elevation change, up and over another ridge, but we had a shorter day the next day, which would give us plenty of time in the hot springs at Jhinu. Much busier than it was the last time I’d been here, but the pools right next to the Modi Khola river are  stunning, great for tired legs, and well worth the extra walk down to the bottom of the valley from the village. 

  We had a nice short day planned as a rest day for the fourth day, but first we had to make the challenging climb up to Chomrong. This wonderful village is a crossroads for the donkey trains delivering all manner of supplies to surrounding villages and teahouses, from Snickers bars and Pringles to propane tanks. This makes Chomrong the NYC of the Annapurna trek. Apple pie, black forest cake, WIFI and cheap beer make this place difficult to leave. After a revitalizing afternoon of laundry, carbs, liquid and literal sunshine, we slept well and set off early the next morning, eager to start gaining elevation toward ABC. We had settled in to a nice routine, resting, snacking, filtering water from snow-melt streams. Finishing in the early afternoon, then changing into warm layers, reading and doing homework while there was still light, ordering dinner for 6. Food was a lot more expensive than I remember, and with three hungry mouths to feed, our supply of rupees was dwindling quickly. We were always trying to maximize the calorie count, while keeping costs to a minimum. Eventually we caved, and splurged on fries, pizza, and a deep fried Snickers.

  The day after Chomrong we made it past our intended stop at Bamboo, an extra hour to Dovan. The valley is very steep and narrow by this point, and the sun had already dropped behind the mountains by the time we changed into our cold weather gear. We met a Dutch father and his two boys, aged 12 and 14, and played some cards with them later, to Raven’s delight…

  Each village/teahouse has a sign with approximate times to the surrounding villages, and even with breaks, we were right on the given times. Except Dovan to MBC. They had 3.5 hours total, but had forgotten a two hour section, so we ended up with a 5.5 hour day, gaining 1100 meters as we climbed up into the steep valley leading into the cirque of Annapurna Sanctuary. We didn’t eat enough for lunch, and with the cold wind that built in the afternoon shade, the day turned into 6 hours plus, and Raven was exhausted, and really cold by the time we tucked her under a pile of blankets at Machapuchare Base Camp. At over 11000 feet, altitude sickness is common, and can be dangerous, so we kept a close eye on her. It wasn’t until after dinner, when she finally had some fuel to generate body heat, that she perked up and took off a few layers.  She still wasn’t too interested in climbing any higher, even if it was only two hours up to ABC, at 4130 meters.

  After a big breakfast, much coercion, and a warm sunrise, we headed up for a full day and night basking in the majesty of the vast landscape of the high Himalaya. I’m glad for digital cameras, because I took so many pictures! We posed with Annapurna I, the first peak over 8000 meters ever climbed , added our prayer flags to the stupa, as an offering and thank you for a safe passage. I started getting nostalgic at this point, thinking of the amazing journey I’ve had over the last 15 years, struck by the fact that Su and Raven are the answer to so many of the questions I dwelt on as a wandering 25 year old. I’m so incredibly thankful to be able to return to such a powerful and influential place with my wife and daughter, together as a family, inspiring, nurturing, motivating, accepting and supporting one another. What more could you ask for?

  Only the shock of realizing how much ice has melted, at how far the glacier has retreated, could cast a shadow on this glorious achievement. The glacier is disappearing at an alarming rate. In another 15 years, I don’t think there’ll be much ice left. What I had taken as the sounds of the dynamic nature of this extreme environment, the creaking, groaning and cracking of the glacier as it slid downstream, was actually the sound of a glacier dying. The moraine towers over the rubble strewn sliver of ice remaining, the shallow tongue of snowfield doesn’t even reach the body of the glacier anymore. I knew the world was changing quickly, but this is frightening.

  Su and I left Raven snuggled up in bed as we watched the sunrise, the golden early morning light sliding down the impossible face of Annapurna and her smaller sisters.  At our usual 8:30 we started descending quickly, enjoying the increasing oxygen, but stopping to gaze back often, knowing I’ll never be back, not a third time. There are too many other amazing places to see, but I’m glad I was given the opportunity to revisit this one, as changed as Annapurna, but with a future that keeps expanding. We had hoped to catch up with the Dutch family, so were aiming for Bamboo, around 6 hours, I figured.  Eight hours later, we had dropped 1800 meters of elevation, and finally, our packs. I can hardly believe that I went four hours further back in 1997, from ABC to Chomrong in one day! We took two days this time, and none of us would have wanted to go any further. We had planned to go on, but my legs were pretty tired, so I knew Raven must have been really sore. The high point of this leg was spotting some monkeys munching away in the treetops. We watched for almost half an hour, taking lots of photos, and even some video. After over 2000 steps up to Chomrong, we stopped at the first ‘German Bakery’, where Raven had the password for the WIFI. Hot showers, email, and chocolate cake reinforced our decision to stay.

  Wanting to take a different route back, instead of retracing our steps the entire way, we climbed out of Chomrong, then down a steep, dusty and loose trail to the Kimrong Khola, a smallish river running through a massive flood plain. We asked a local farmer about the longevity of the bridge across while Raven was petting his horse, one of the little ‘logs with sod and grass on top’ variety, and the reply was ‘Yes we build a new one every year’.  We crossed over and continued up the other side of the valley on what was now obviously a seasonal and less maintained trail. After we reached the top of the ridge, it was an easy hour to Ghandruk for our last night before returning to traffic and tourist shops. Ghandruk is a magnificently medieval village, ancient looking stone houses with vibrant and productive gardens. We awoke to another bright blue sky, looking forward to one last day of trekking, and some hot showers and cold beer as a reward. After no more than an hour, we heard the unmistakable blast of a horn, the musical kind that the busses usually use to attract customers and warn pedestrians of imminent doom. Raven perked up ‘Is that a bus?!’ I tried to gloss over the obvious, hoping the road hadn’t reached Ghandruk. A few minutes later, sure enough, we came out onto a road, where several jeeps, and the bus where parked. The bus started to pull away, but then the ‘doorman’, who collects fares and entices potential passengers by calling out the destination, saw us and started yelling ‘Pokhara! Pokhara!’ The bus sqealled to a halt, the driver jumped out, and we started negotiating fares. Su and I didn’t really want to take the bus yet, but the prospect of hiking down a dusty, rutted road while dodging traffic and cattle, wasn’t so appealing. The look on Raven’s face let us know that there would be further consequences to not taking the bus, so for an extra 100 rupees, we spent an extra 3 hours bumping along the newly bulldozed road, trying not to be fearful of the steep drop down to the river, as we squealed and swerved around impossible switchbacks. The dust covered trekkers covering their faces as we roared past did little to ease the jarring ride, but we were smug looking out, packs on the floor, trekking poles retracted and tucked away. We even got to experience a Nepali drive-through car wash…Our bus joined another bus and a taxi, as well as several bathers and laundry scrubbers, in a shallow part of the river, where everyone was soaping up and cleaning an assortment of prized possessions.

  The return to motorcycles and moneychangers was even worse than I had expected. The incessant honking, the dust and exhaust, persistent salesmen determined to sell you Something ! We took a side road to a quiet café and stuffed ourselves with pizza and beer, triumphant and buzzed. After a full day in Pokhara, eating, shopping, emailing and lazing about, we took another epic bus ride back to Kathmandu, only breaking down once this time. We stopped for a quick lunch and another stop at the ATM, but it was nice to have somewhere else to go. We could ignore all the offers for ‘cheap hotel’ and ‘good trekking’ and just hop on a local bus to Pepsi Cola. After only 2 weeks, it still seemed like coming home. We had emailed to let our host family know we were on our way back, and the amma greeted us with smiles, questions and tea. There is a Belgian couple staying here now, so we had some more volunteers to trade stories with.

  Now we’re finally getting ready to fly to Salleri. We leave at 8:30 tomorrow morning. I was hoping for a slightly earlier flight, before the clouds obscure any potential views of Everest, which is only about 60 kms away as the crow flies. I’m looking forward to the incredible opportunity of spending 3 months in a monastery, but am anxious about the unknown. What will Salleri be like? Will our homestay be as comfortable and accommodating as this one has been? What will my teaching sessions be like? Will we have sporadic internet access, and roaming power outages like in Kathmandu? I’ve been trying for days to upload this blog, and pictures take forever, even if the internet doesn’t cut out. This is all part of the challenge of accepting the difference to get used to facing my vulnerability, and trust the good intentions and acceptance of the community.  Namaste in development and priorities, and appreciating the luxuries we take for granted at home.  I need.