A Good Omen
It’s funny how even the briefest of encounters can make your day. His face was old and weathered yet overwhelmingly friendly. As we walked towards each other on the narrow mountain road a car approached from behind. I carefully moved onto the shoulder avoiding any missteps by the roadside cliff while glancing back at the car.
As I turned my attention back in front of me I noticed the man had stopped as he didn’t want to pass without acknowledging my presence. He pressed his hands together and pulled them towards his chest as his warm smile gave way to his greeting. “Namaste,” he said. I returned in kind “Namaste.” And just like that he was behind me. It felt like such a pure moment. Maybe it was just two complete strangers passing on the road, but I felt something strong from this brief encounter and took it as a good omen for my journey ahead.
I was returning from Pumdikot, the site of a large Shiva statue that adorns the hill overlooking Pokhara, Nepal and the beautiful Fewa Lake. I had spent the last few years at or near sea level and I had not really physically challenged myself in a very long time. I was trying to get in some last minute steps and altitude before starting my eight day trek to Annapurna Base Camp. A trek I didn’t really feel physically prepared for.
As I descended the steep rock steps towards Fewa Lake my left knee began to hurt. This had been one of my biggest concerns going into this trek. As I reached the lake I took a small paddle boat back to Pokhara’s Lakeside area knowing that I just needed to rest my body for the next two days before starting my trek.
The Start of a Long Journey
The journey to the trailhead was not what I expected. From Pokhara the drive took three hours. The Mahindra jeep was luckily up to the task as this was one crazy 4×4 road. I was really surprised at how far we drove, navigating the switch backs of the road cut into the mountain. Shrouded in clouds, I could see very little.
We reached the trailhead and had a quick lunch before starting the trek. I was eager to get going. The first leg of the trek was lush and green. Large trees were covered in carpets of moss and surrounded by ferns. Standing out was the national flower of Nepal. These large Rhododendron trees were carrying their flowers in full bloom showing stunning shades of red and pink. I had not seen Rhododendron trees this big before and was immediately impressed with their size and the vibrancy they brought to the forest.
As we set out a gentle rain fell and took pause only to spray a fine mist. Visibility was very poor, yet walking in the clouds seemed to improve the feeling of this forest paradise. While I was unable to see the peaks that surrounded me I was still overcome with a sense of peace and happiness.
Along the trail, which was not steep at this point, streams rushed through narrow chasms cascading over falls and taking pause in pools below.
Part mud and part rock steps, the trail down to Ghodepani was steep and occasionally the forest would give way to a small village. Terraced fields showed spring crops braving the cold. Stone houses lined the trail as it passed through the villages. Here beautiful hand painted signs advertised lunch, tea and coffee to passing trekkers.
In shady spots along the trail, meticulously constructed rock walls were shelved with flat stone slabs. They were designed specifically for porters to set their heavy loads on as they took rest while awaiting their trekking party.
The knee was holding up thus far. Arriving at my first tea house after three hours, I was well aware this would be the easiest day of my trek. I was still ready to get my pack off. We timed it well as the rain really started just as I arrived in my room. I was feeling a little disoriented so I put on warm clothes and headed down to the dining area for a much needed cup of tea.
The dining area was warm as there was a barrel stove in the middle of the room. The stove pipe rose up to the second floor where my room was. Just big enough for a twin bed and my bag the room is all I really needed. Two toilets are located down the hall and a sink outside on the roof. There are two blankets and I don’t think I will bother with the sleeping bag tonight. I’ll just dress warm for bed and prepare for the 4:30am start tomorrow.
Sleep however can only be considered after dal bhat. I had intentionally been avoiding it since I arrived Nepal as I knew it would be the main meal for the duration of my trek. Now I found myself craving it and all of a sudden I was feeling as though I hadn’t eaten all day. Dal baht is the the staple food of Nepal and most people eat it twice a day, every day. It consists of rice, dal, some sort of cooked leafy greens and a curry flavored mixed vegetable. One great thing about dal baht is that it is bottomless. They will come by during your meal and refill your platter with as much as you can eat.
Feeling Lost in the Clouds
I never sleep well when I know I have to get up so early. I checked the time at 12:05am and 2:45am. I didn’t sleep again after that. As I started the climb to Poon Hill it didn’t seem cold. About half way up the ninety minutes of relentless stairs, I was sweating terribly and my base layer was soaked. Knowing full well there would be no view from the top I forged on. Again I was in the clouds. The view of the Annapurna range is meant to be spectacular from the top, but today it wasn’t meant to be. Once arriving at the top there was no sunrise too see but the wind combined with being soaked made it incredibly cold.
The hill was covered with about a hundred disappointed trekkers. For many this was their final destination and I felt bad for those who climbed the hill hoping for their one view of the Himalayas. I also was becoming a little worried that I might spend eight days in the clouds myself. The trip back down from Poon Hill was not a nice experience. I was cold and my legs were shaking uncontrollably. This much activity before coffee or breakfast does not suite me well. The worst part, descending all these stairs was making my knee hurt.
Once arriving back at the tea house I had about forty-five minutes to eat breakfast and get packed before heading out for another six hour trek. Breakfast was very good and consisted of an omelette, potatoes and a delicious Tibetan bread. The coffee was instant but it gave me the little bit of motivation I needed to hit the trail again.
The rest of the day was a slow slog on a very steep trail. First up for a long time and then down for a long time. Up rock stairs, down rock stairs then repeat for hours on end. A slow rain fell all morning making it slick and muddy. Going slow was imperative and if you didn’t you would be rudely reminded. At one point while stepping over some tree roots I leaned back a little too far. My front foot slipped and down I went into the mud. I got my hands under me to break my fall but my knee got stuck under me and a sharp pain shot up my leg. Back up to carry on as there really is no other option.
As we approached our lunch spot, a strong wind came up blowing the clouds off the hills and occasionally I caught a brief glimpse of my surroundings. It’s nice to at least get a reminder that I was trekking on a narrow path surrounded by steep drops below and huge cliffs that towered above.
I finally arrived in Tadapani, my home for the night. As I arrived before any other guests I scored the room with the stove pipe passing through. The room was very warm so I was able to hang my wet clothes up to dry. Soon a large tour group of sixteen trekkers and sixteen porters arrived. Unfortunately there was only one toilet. As I went to bed I was hoping for even a slight improvement in the weather tomorrow as so far I hadn’t seen a single mountain peak.
The First Glimpse of Majestic Mountain Peaks
“Knock, knock, knock, mountains, mountains, mountains.” The guide for the large group yelled out and knocked on each door as she walked down the corridor of the guesthouse. Being the final day of their trek and having the same experience as I did on Poon Hill, they were all very excited at the prospect of seeing the mountains. The hallway was soon full of people throwing on warm clothes and making their way out the door.
Only the earliest signs of dawn filled the sky. As I made my way outside I was happy to join in the excitement of the group. The view was spectacular. Rhododendrons covered the near hills adjacent to the village and beyond them rose a row of majestic snow covered peaks.
Most prominent was Machapuchare or Fish Tail Mountain. The sky was tinged with purples and yellows. While the scenery was that of a beautiful painting it soon became clear that it was only a brief passing moment. It felt like the mountains were teasing me. As soon as the sun touched the peaks the clouds rolled in and while this moment passed quickly it stoked my excitement and I was energized for the day.
This turned out to be a very long yet beautiful day. We quickly descended through the forest emerging on steep hills terraced with small villages, and entire mountainsides were lined with crops extending from the clouds to the river valley below. It took a good two hours to reach the bottom of the first hill. There a small suspension bridge to carry me across and the ascent to the top of the next hill began. It seemed reasonable to me that somewhere at the top of this hill we would stop as surely it would take hours to get there.
When we reached the top we stopped at a cliffside guesthouse for lunch. The air was cool and the wind blew through fiercely at times. Jacket on, jacket off. Full clouds again, jacket back on. The temperature fluctuations were quick and continuous.
After lunch we followed the trail around to Chhomrong. This was a good sized village placed on the top of a mountain. Near the top, a stone trail was lined with guesthouses, restaurants and coffee shops. The rock stairs going down this side of the hill seemed to go on forever.
Here we passed a government checkpoint. At this point you are signed in and carry on. If in several days you don’t check back out someone will have to come looking for you.
The guesthouses and restaurants soon gave way to a traditional mountain village. Here buffalo and ox wondered the paths lined with stone walls. On each side beautiful gardens as far as I could see. As it was only the end of March healthy looking winter crops prospered. Cabbage and potatoes were lined with newly sprouted corn stalks. Clean cool water made its way through the village carefully directed with stone channels as needed. At the bottom of a long section of steps there was a beautiful Buddhist stupa. This made a great place to take a short break.
Looking across the valley at the next hill my guide pointed to a place called Sinuwa. It was so far away! He then pointed to a small group of buildings on the far ridge above and said “that is Upper Sinuwa, we shall sleep there tonight.” I was astonished to be honest. We had already covered so much ground and we couldn’t be much more than half way through the day. Upper Sinuwa was so much higher than where we were standing and we were still going down. In the end we did thirty-thousand steps this day covering about thirteen miles. About half way up the hill I was longing for a steep trail, but the steps I faced instead, had my legs and lungs on fire. From this point forward the trek could only be taken one step at a time. The realization of the difficulty ahead was really setting in.
As I arrived at Upper Sinuwa the day was mostly gone. After getting my bed ready for the night I made my way towards the dining hall. The clouds were clearing off to reveal my location. In the valley to the north, Fish Tail Mountain’s sharp vertical summit was peaking out from behind a ridge. It seemed hard to believe how much closer I was to this mountain from the last time I saw it this morning. It now stood directly above me and as it got dark the sky stayed clear. This was a very good sign for the weather tomorrow. Despite being exhausted from a very long day, I went to bed eager for tomorrow to start.
The Excitement of Blue Skies
The next morning the sky was indeed blue as I had hoped. As we hit the trail in a narrow canyon, huge cliffs rose to each side. It was cold. I could see the sun slowly making its way down the rock but it seemed like it would never reach me. I was cold but sweating profusely. Trekking cold in less layers seemed the only way to continue.
The trail was too steep and difficult to wear heavy clothes, as despite the cold temperatures I was very hot while trekking. The trees were getting smaller but the water was increasing. We crossed several streams on rocks or makeshift bridges. The streams fell quickly into a raging river below. I could hear waterfalls but I could not see them.
We passed though several small places. Dovan, Bamboo, and Himalaya, where we stopped for lunch. In the midday sun Himalaya was very hot. A perfect blue sky was above, but only the very tops of peaks could be seen due to the height of cliff walls that surrounded me.
After lunch I exited the forest as I climbed onto the tundra. Here the wind blew without obstruction or mercy. Cold air and a hot sun made the adding and subtracting of layers a constant process throughout the afternoon. Soon the clouds rolled in and hid the my surroundings just I crossed my first snow.
Here in a small valley, the snow was guarded from the sun and was allowed to sit here year round. Below the sound of water, and just on the other side of the snow a wide waterfall spread out across the rocks just as we reach Duerali, my destination for the night.
A light hail began falling from ominous clouds. A stiff wind was blowing the hail across the ground. The ice increased in size and frequency and soon there was about an inch accumulated on the ground. Just before the sunset the hail gave way to rain and the cold dark night set in. Tomorrow morning was the final ascent to Annapurna Base Camp.
An Icy Trail to Annapurna Base Camp
As I awoke I was initially delighted by the weather as not a single cloud was to be found. It was however bitterly cold. As I started out from my guesthouse there was a stillness in the crisp air. The only sound was the crunching of ice beneath my feet. As I climbed a short staircase that led to the trail my feet were slipping. Everything was covered with a sheet of ice and I quickly stopped, took off my pack and dug out my crampons.
I initially thought it would take me four hours to reach ABC from Duerali, but the ice was clearly going to make this a much longer day. Those who didn’t have crampons wrapped socks around their shoes for extra grip. Even with the crampons the hard ice was slick and only on the flattest of surfaces did I have confidence in my steps.
After a very short distance there was a sign warning that I was entering an avalanche area. The sign was a turning point where the trail had been redirected. Straight ahead a large pyramid of snow about one hundred and fifty feet high rested against the cliff. Here an avalanche, only last year, had come down and taken the lives of both trekkers and guides. This stuck sharply in my mind as I followed the new trail that led down to the raging river fed from glaciers near my destination.
At the river, a makeshift metal bridge crossed the swift current. While this was far from the ideal surface for my crampons to grip, I just didn’t have the energy to keep removing and putting them back on again.
Across the bridge the trail was difficult to follow due to a layer of snow and ice. Empty rice bags tied to trees mark the way up and over rocks. After about thirty minutes I approached the second bridge that led me back to the other side.
The sun was threatening to shine on the trail ahead and make going a little bit less dangerous as the ice would quickly begin to melt. Soon I made my way onto softer snow and ahead in the distance I spotted Machapuchare Base Camp.
As I approached the camp I could have stopped for an early lunch or tea, but I could see the very beginnings of cloud cover behind Machapuchare peak so I decided to forge on to ABC without resting. A welcomed flat surface gave me the opportunity to get out my camera that had been packed away due to the icy surface.
I paused here for about five minutes while I took some photos of the dramatic peaks towering above me. I thought to myself, it would have been worth all this work just to come this far. Everything was bright white snow or dark stone. The peaks seemed as though someone had designed them and just got carried away with their work throwing mountains on top of each other. I though to myself, this is why I came here.
From here I turned west toward the steep snow covered slope. Somehow I thought I would be able to see ABC from here, but that just turned out to be wishful thinking. The sun beat down from the blue sky and soon I was sweating again. Each step grew more tiresome and each hill turned out to be a false top. After about forty-five minutes I stopped and threw my bag down on a rock that poked its way up through the snow. I could finally see ABC, but now the destination didn’t seem that important.
I found myself completely surrounded by massive snow and glacier covered peaks, some with shear cliff faces that were thousands of feet high. After the previous days, I felt incredibly fortunate to have a sky so clear and bright. I spent the next hour slowly walking towards ABC while making sure not to miss an opportunity to look up and take it all in.
Just below the guesthouses I paused and had my photo taken at the famous Namaste, Welcome to Annapurna Base Camp sign. From here, I turned away and walked toward a massive gulch created by glaciers.
Ahead of me stood the Annapurna range. I was breathless from the climb and from the scenery. For so many years I had dreamed of reaching this exact spot. Sometimes we build things up in our heads for so long that there can be a let down when the moment comes. This was not the case at Annapurna Base Camp. Everything was bigger and more dramatic than I could have ever dreamed. I was caught up in the moment and thought to myself, this must be among the most beautiful places on earth.
I was extremely hungry and exhausted. After dropping my bag I made my way to the small dining hall which was lined with windows giving stunning views of the giant bowl of peaks that surrounded. As I sat and drank a cup of tea I was not hungry, or thirsty or exhausted anymore. I quickly ate my lunch and proceeded outside to see what I could and imprint images of the surroundings in my mind before the fast approaching clouds took it all away.
It’s a quite remarkable thing to be standing at over 13,000 feet above sea level surrounded by some of the highest peaks in the world and realize those peaks rise over 11,000 feet above where you are standing.
As I laid down that evening, I knew I would sleep like a baby. I felt satisfied with my efforts and the rewards that came with it. Tomorrow was to be the longest day as far as time and distance, but for now I was only thinking about the beauty of this place as I fell asleep.
A Long and Tiring Descent
The next morning was fast going. Descending on a gentle slope past Machapuchare Base Camp my crampons strongly gripped the softer ice. The air was considerably warmer and I walked with a sense of accomplishment and confidence. The skies were blue and I was happy.
As I made my way along the bottom of a steep cliff face I heard what I thought was clap of thunder. As I looked up I saw only blue sky and then I came to a quick realization. Beware of the sound of thunder under blue skies.
As I looked up to my right a burst of snow shot out from the cliff. It was probably two thousand feet above me. I pointed my walking pole up at the falling snow and yelled out “avalanche,” as I began to run. Within a few seconds I was running at full speed with crampons on across ice and rocks. After about a minute, with my heart racing I looked back and then stopped. I knew I would have been out of the danger zone by now. A light dusting of snow fell gently on the trees along the river side. This was a very small avalanche as this time of year the snow pack in not heavy. I was still quite concerned about falling rocks the snow might have taken to the valley floor with it.
I slowly carried on again crossing the makeshift bridges and back into the forest of large trees and bamboo. In all I walked for nine hours covering about eighteen miles on my way to down to Lower Sinuwa where I spent the night. My legs were destroyed and shaking but my knees did not hurt and I remember thinking “I feel as I should feel after this trek, no better and no worse.” Tomorrow would be an easy day. There were only a few more miles to cover and then a long suspension bridge to the jeep trail from where I would head back to Pokhara. There I would be able to reflect on my trip. On the trail there was little down time. I walked, I ate, I slept and focussed on the task. I was looking forward to a time a reflection.
The End of a Long & Beautiful Journey
I don’t believe you can overestimate how you can mentally put up a wall and forge through physically challenging moments. But once you know you’ve physically succeeded that mental wall falls quickly and you soon realize it was the only thing keeping you going. If you are healthy I would say that a trek like this is 25% physical and 75% mental. Once my mental guard was down exhaustion set in. I guess I had been mentally preparing myself for this more than I had realized and suddenly my body was weak and my mind was dull. At first I thought this was just a let down after all the excitement of the past week. In reality, I was now feeling both mentally and physically ill for lack of a better word.
Back in Pokhara I began to sort through photos of the past eight days and only then did I find that sense of accomplishment I had hoped for. That evening I poured myself a big shot of whiskey and looked over my paper map of the Annapurna Mountains. I felt freed from a challenge I had dreamed of and had put off for over three decades and while this certainly would have been easier in my twenties, I had no doubt that it meant so much more now.
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