Relative Something

I started reading a book about an outdoor adventure last night and as the narration described packing a small plane and the flight they took into a remote wilderness, I was transported to memories of my experience flying to Lukla in the Himalayan mountains. That trip I took to Nepal was over 12-years ago now, enough time that I don’t think about it nearly as often as I used to.

I don’t want the ever-increasing span of time to erase the brilliance of my experience. At the same time, I don’t want to endlessly repeat the stories from that trip just to keep them alive.

Maybe just fragments of the stories.

The drama of navigating our way through the gauntlet of locals around the airport in Katmandu, twice, to wait for our flight to Lukla.

Seeing the mountains from the air for the first time.

Realizing that everywhere we would go beyond the airport at Lukla would be on foot.

Walking the same path as so many others who climbed to the summit of Everest.

Experiencing the gift of being guided by the Sherpa people.

Exchanging Namaste greetings with locals and other foreign trekkers as we pass on the narrow trail.

Crossing the deep river gorges on swinging suspension bridges.

Seeing eagles soaring in rising circles on a thermal column of air, while standing above them at a higher elevation.

The mantra om mani padme hum.

The incredible views of Everest, Ama Dablam, Nuptse, Lhotse.

Overnight snow that covered our tents in Namche Bazaar.

Taking a side trail to avoid congestion because our guide was from the region and knew the “backroads.”

The sound of an evacuation helicopter climbing the thin air up the valley between high peaks.

Laughing with fellow trekkers in our group and our Sherpa guides and porters.

Hauling school supplies in our backpacks to donate to small schools along the way.

Finding a property with electricity and paying a modest fee to charge my camera batteries.

Warm milk tea.

The variety of locals, yaks (dzo), and travelers who shared the main trails.

Mani stones with carved prayer inscriptions along the trail.

Witnessing a day of activity when I stayed put on an off-day in Monju.

Prayer flags flapping in the wind.

It all made for a mighty good dose of outdoor adventures that I really enjoy remembering.

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