Walkin' the walk

Everybody deals with the trail differently. Dave is an IPOD man, and is plugged in most of the time on the trail. He is the most fit and active of the bunch and so he often heads out first with one of the cooks, and we see him again when we get to lunch areas, or the resting spots where, for whatever reason, they are to wait for us. And we see him when we get to camp.
Kathleen, too, listens to her Walkman while on the trail. They both obviously find what they are looking for in their music. She’s not as intent on the music because she likes to converse. No matter with whom she’s walking she likes the interaction of conversation I didn’t give her much physical credit early in the trip, some things happened to make me wonder about her mental toughness, but she has proved her mettle. It’s hard for her, too, but she never complains, in true Aussie style. I think she also enjoys being the only single female with two very likeable males her own age (33). So it’s never quiet when walking with Kathleen. She and Tony are great mates.
Tony is the floater. He just gets along with everybody, no matter what the circumstances. I call him Encyclopedia Antonica and like to ask him questions just to see what kind of answers I get from him. He is quite hilarious and always a lot of fun to be with, but that’s not to say he’s not insightful, because he certainly is. He just has this droll sense of humor. His “To wash is to die,” mantra attests to this fact.
So when we’re climbing, Dave’s gone on his own, and Kathleen and Tony walk together, sometimes with Manoj and sometimes with another cook who knows the way.
Manoj floats back and forth between Tony and Kathleen and Carol and myself. I think that Carol and I ask more questions and so depending upon whether he wants to participate or wants time out, he will bounce back and forth.
Therefore, most of the time, I get to walk with my best friend, quietly enjoying our surroundings and being together. As much as we enjoy the others in the group, the best of all worlds is when we can just set our own schedule and then interact with the others as time and opportunity permit.
Our time walking the Camino last year gave us a pattern of enjoying things and interacting as we pleased, but also gave us the time and space for quiet contemplation. We have plenty of that. The altitude does not encourage conversation (except for Kathleen) and even when we talk, things are kept short. The mountains encourage a quiet ambience just letting the natural beauty surrounding us do its own talking. It’s hard not to feel overwhelmed here. Everything is so big, everything is so stunning. So we often walk quietly, each of us taking in the very simplicity of it all: listening to the wind, hearing our own breathing, watching the mountains change with the shadows the passing sun constantly changes. It’s just indescribably beautiful and I couldn’t disagree with Manoj. The mountains are sacred, and reverence is not far from the feeling that we have as we enjoy this moment in the Tibetans’ cathedral. We walk these mountains as we try to do all our lives, step by step. It’s just that here those steps are a little slower and a little shorter than they are elsewhere. That’s not bad, just different.

Trek day 9
What an absolutely brilliant day!
After being a little down in the mouth yesterday, what with retracing steps. I couldn’t totally bask in the beauty of the camp spot. That is until we awoke early this morning and stepped outside the tent. It was by far the best spot of them all: A full 360 degrees of Himalayan wonder in all its glory. As with the previous eight mornings this one too broke beautifully clear and gave us a dazzling display of Everest and the surrounding ranges.
Manoj wanted to get an early start since today was the BIG day, the high pass, the tough climb, and the long, long descent down into the valley. So it was 6,7,8 as he likes to say. Up at 6:00, breakfast at 7:00, and on the trail by 8:00.
When we stepped outside the tent this morning, the first thing that came to attention was the moon over Makalu. That was a real treat. The sun had just started to give Everest its early morning golden hue, and the pass which we were to climb was still in shadows but showed us the path to the top at almost 18,000 feet.
It was a very cold night, as they had all been, but at camp eight it was even more so, since we were camping at 17,000. But still we had our breakfast al fresco, beautiful, but cold.
And so we started to climb, up and up and up. We’d stop and see from where we had come. There was a sense that Everest was soon to be part of our past, and we wanted to see it for as long as we could. There was a 2-3 acre lake we climbed past which was totally frozen except for the edges, reminding us of Lake Hovskul in Mongolia. We picked our way through rock fields, surprise, and up into the sow fields. We had our snow gaiters on and that really helped protect the feet and ankles. The snow was rutted from so many locals walking up and over the pass going from the yak-grazing areas to their tents or villages someplace this side of the pass. Manoj said that the snow was about 10 feet deep. We finally reached the summit after about 2 1/2 hours difficult slog. But at that altitude, 17,954 by Tony’s instrumentation, the vistas were incredible.
There was a lot of cavorting at the top. Maybe because we had looked forward to this as much as we had dreaded the climb. Our highest point, our toughest challenge, our last goodbye to the vistas, no matter what the psychological intricacies at work here, we were in a festive mood at the top.
Manoj wanted us to get to the top early because as the sun hits the snow, it can get quite difficult. In fact, talking to the Coloradoans later, we found out this was exactly the case. They arrived at the top a full two hours after we did, and had very difficult going. They broke through the snow crust and were knee deep in slush. They got quite wet and apparently became quite vocal as they befouled the mountains with their epithets.
But for us, it was jubilation. Dave did an impromptu modeling photo shoot dancing around the snow to shouts of: “Work it,”etc. as Tony played photographer. How he could leap and jump around was a mystery to Carol and me, but we enjoyed the silliness. Maybe it was the altitude that made us so giddy.
There were three Tibetan yak herders who had come over the pass from their village to tend their herds. They sat on a rock and just watched us being stupid. They just sat there and observed, not making any outward sign of emotion; no approval, no scorn. We must have looked really bizarre to them. They are so much at home with the mountains I’m sure they couldn’t have the foggiest notion what we were all about. They had just appeared out of nowhere. That is a common theme here. There are no settlements for miles, we saw no tents, no encampments, no signs of even temporary shelter, but here they were at 10 in the morning just appearing like some mystical vision.
We shared hot drinks and our celebratory cookies with them which they took with their usual politeness, neither showing delight nor disgust at these foreign tastes. These are people who basically live on barley and yak butter products so everything else is novel. I have no idea how much contact they have with trekkers. Certainly there are maybe a hundred or so people who come through the area in a given season, but remembering that we had two Aussies with us, we were certainly less inhibited than most groups.
We hated to start down the other side and watch Everest disappear over the other side of the pass. The good news is that in two days we will go to Everest base camp on the North face, a totally different perspective. We’re all looking forward to that. Another reason we’re looking forward to it is because we’re going to DRIVE to it. The trekking portion having ended.
So while we climbed about 1,000 feet today, we descended almost 4,000. We had been told that this would be the most difficult day, and they were right. The long descent took us over five hours making it an eight hour day over all. Part of the descent was a long mile walk through a snow field. Even though it was flat, it was difficult to navigate the narrow rut left by passers-by who preceded us.
We were exhausted as we got to camp. As we were descending the last part, Manoj was trying to see whose camp was set up where. He declared that ours was the last of the two being established. He said that it was the best of the two camps. All I could see was that it was the further one of the two:-)
We walked the last mile or so and passed our first view of “civilization,” for the last nine days. We saw people tending fields, children playing, and several people just coming and going to and from where, I know not, but certainly human activity.
All the chill to the air disappeared with the snow, and the vegetation and landscape became that of the valley rather than that of a mountain scene. Camp looked very good indeed as we entered.
As we ate our dinner, we had a group of 10-15 people crowding around our tent doorway just looking in, observing. Manoj talked to them, and we all had a lot of interaction. The natural courteousness of the people is manifested in them just standing around in a crowd watching you. They don’t think it is impolite or rude. They are just curious, so they watch. Little snotty-nosed kids peeking between the legs of adults; babies strapped to mom’s back trying to look around shoulders, and lots of giggling and laughing females just wondering what these foreigners are all about. It doesn’t help to shoo them away after a lengthy staring session, more just appear, and besides they aren’t hurting anybody, so we just continue to eat, play cards, or just talk. It’s just a little disconcerting to know that someone who doesn’t understand all the unwritten body language and western interaction is watching you like you’re an animal in the zoo, but maybe that’s just karmic justice.
Tomorrow is the last day of walking back to our original camp where our vehicles are located. It’s a short three hour walk from here and all down hill. We’re out of the snow. We can look back the way we came and see the snow from the pass we came over but there’s no hint of it here at the “lower” elevation of around 14,000 feet. We got to camp and all sat around in tee shirts since the weather was in the 70’s. Quite a change from getting into our tents and pulling out the down jackets provided by the trekking company.
So, it’s almost over. As much as I complained about the difficulty of the trek, with tomorrow being the last day, I approach it with mixed emotions. I’ll really be happy to not have to climb in high altitudes, but I also know that the vistas, too, will be behind me. Guess, I’m never happy.
Carol and Jim