Posts Tagged ‘Himalayan Trek’
Outdoor Adventures
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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Himalayan Memories
A dear friend who was a precious member of the Himalayan trek I did back in 2009 recently visited us and left me with her illustrated edition of Jon Krakauer’s “Into Thin Air.” I had read this book about the deadly 1996 season on Everest when it was first published but had not seen this version with all the photos and graphics.
David Piper took this shot of me overlooking Namche Bazaar
Thinking I would breeze through and just look at all the pictures, I unexpectedly found myself powerless to ignore the text. After an attempt to skim some of the reading to refresh my memory failed miserably, I gave in and absorbed every last word, at the expense of sleep and a few daily tasks.
I simply couldn’t stop reading until I reached the end.
Of course, the early portions of the descriptions from Kathmandu up to Lukla and then the villages up to 13,000 FT elevation resonate deeply with my first-hand experience and bring a rush of vivid pleasant memories flooding back.
I clearly remember the specific spot Krakauer describes when the rocky path first arrives at a vista with a view of the peak of Everest.
The adventure travel group I trekked with had a tag line that “Everyone Has an Everest.” While re-reading “Into Thin Air” I have found myself understanding better than ever how to apply this thinking more often to everyday life.
It doesn’t need to be some epic accomplishment. Reading the intricate details of the goings-on in a guided expedition to reach the summit of Everest reveals how important each little step is, maybe even more important than the few abbreviated minutes they are able to allow themselves to spend at the top.
As well, the critical value of coming back down after the pinnacle is achieved, which is the only thing that will allow a full realization of the accomplishment.
So it can be in our everyday lives. Each thing we do in an effort toward our goals holds value like the preparations individuals make in an Everest expedition.
It’s not simply the destination, but the journey that should be valued in our day-to-day mini-expeditions.
The journey both there, and back again.
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Mixed Tracks
The thing about aging, especially complaining about the less than glamorous aspects associated with it, is that there are always going to be people older than you for whom the whining will appear inconsequential.
“You think that’s bad, just wait until…”
We each have our moments in time. It’s natural to try comparing, but it’s also natural, to discount each other’s comparisons.
I used to be able to write my name in the snow when peeing. Now I just make Pollock style splatter painting designs.
At least I can still pee.
Speaking of tracks in the snow, I captured a cute combination of chicken traffic along with what I’m assuming were prints of a local prowling outdoor cat.
I’m not sure who was there first, but it is unlikely they were actually wandering around together.
If you pay close enough attention, you will see the tracks of the chickens are pointing in opposite directions.
I also think the paw print is a double exposure. It seems like too many toes, but I suspect it is a function of two feet being placed in the same spot.
Watching Delilah on walks, and often wanting to capture pictures of her paw prints, I have come to notice how often her back feet step in the same place as her front feet did. I think the cat was doing the same thing.
I am reminded of a snowy morning during my trek in Nepal when two of my travel mates were pestering the Sherpa guides to find us some tracks from an elusive snow leopard.
Eventually, (we think) they used the old trick of making some rather convincing prints in the snow with their own hands.
Everybody had a good laugh over it, although no admissions were ever offered, and a question over authenticity lingered unresolved. We were happy to imagine the excitement of what such evidence implied, if it had been real.
My mind has returned to my 2009 Himalayan trek because we watched a Netflix DVD last night called, “The Himalayas,” which dramatically told the story of South Korean climber, Um Hong-Gil, leading an expedition in 2005 to attempt recovering the bodies of three friends who died there a year earlier.
I find such expedition movies fun for the brief few minute glimpses they almost always include of the flight to Lukla, the swinging bridges, the rocky trails through rhododendron trees, the shrines, prayer flags, and initial views of Everest that are all the very places I walked.
Even though we weren’t on a mountain climbing expedition, those who were, traveled the same route we did, to get where they were going.
We all made mixed tracks in the snow on the trails.
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Many Thanks
On this eve of our Thanksgiving holiday, I wish to extend my heartfelt thanks to you, my readers, for venturing into my world and joining in my adventures and explorations of Somethings occasionally Relative. You may have arrived to view my stories of a Himalayan trek, our visit to Portugal, my annual bike trips, pictures, poetry, Words on Images, or tales of a transition from the suburbs to our Wintervale Ranch paradise. You may be family, friends, coworkers, fellow WordPress bloggers, poets, photographers, wordsmiths, or happenstance searching link-clickers.
You are my audience, and I thank you for your participation, silent or otherwise.
I hope that regular followers have grown familiar with the usual cast of characters that populate the content of late. A certain dog seems to get the most mention. Long ago I began a move toward dropping constant use of orienting descriptions for people and animals that show up in my tales of adventure and woe, hoping that they were becoming established and familiar to readers over time.
We are many chapters into a book that you are reading as it is being written. What will happen next? I can’t make it up. The drama plays out with little concern about how I might be able to narrate it.
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I purchased a replacement GFCI breaker for power to the waterer in the paddock. It failed, too. My “spidey” sense tells me there is leakage current, after all. Removing the access panel on the waterer revealed an incredible amount of moisture present. No wonder. I saw a statistic that we are currently running in 7th place for wettest November on record.
In the previous two years of having that waterer during the winter, we’ve never faced needing to have the heater on when it was so wet.
I’m temporarily bypassing the GFI safety feature to keep the ice off the water source for our horses. Cyndie had a heck of a time breaking off the ice for them yesterday morning, after I tried a night with no power at all.
It appears the solar-powered battery supplying electricity to our arena fence is successfully keeping the horses from wreaking havoc on the barrier.
I found a picture I had taken with the intent of showing how wet the ground was, and discovered it caught Legacy in the distance, mouthing the fence. Busted!
Don’t forget, you can click on the smaller images to bring up the full-size view for closer inspection.
Our house is already filled with the aroma of traditional holiday feasting fare. Cyndie has been busy cooking and cleaning in preparation of hosting Thanksgiving dinner here tomorrow. Family that are planning to come should consider bringing mud-boots.
The weather shows signs of possible precipitation, in addition to the water already saturating our grounds. I’m hoping we don’t all end up stuck indoors watching parades and football games, and eating way more than we should as a result of more rain. It would be a shame to miss out on walks in our woods, exercising Delilah to tire her out, walking the labyrinth, and visiting the horses.
I’m guessing we won’t let a little rain stop us from getting out for a little bit.
Thank you for reading!
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Fond Remembering
Gary and me
Last night I had dinner with precious friends at Gary Larson’s house about 65 miles west of where I live. It is always so very worth the long drive to be present for these gatherings.
Gary and I were thinking along the same lines when we both marveled about having met each other on one of Jim Klobuchar’s annual June bike trips and soon after, traveled together on the trek in Nepal in 2009.
That trip was one of the reasons I had my long hair put into dreadlocks and it was the catalyst for my starting this blog. I’ve been posting every day ever since.
The dreadlocks, though I miss them in many ways, didn’t last as long.
David Piper took this shot of me overlooking Namche Bazaar
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Stone Work
I’ve found myself thinking about Nepal and the Himalayan mountains lately. What better way to honor that special place again than with a few shots of rocks? One is a cairn that existed long before I wandered up to take a picture. It is draped with prayer flags that weren’t catching much wind. The other is a rock I balanced during a session of play along the Dudh Kosi river while my friendly Sherpa, Lakpa, watched over me from above. There’s many a day I wish I could just step through a door and be on those trails in that region again.
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Nepal Thoughts
April is the time of year when I traveled to Nepal. That was a couple of years ago now. It is on my mind a lot this year because I have friends who are currently on a trek similar to mine. When I think back on my trip, and revisit some of the photos I took, the feeling I get is that the whole experience was more than I could absorb. I lived it, but it was more than I could grasp, even as I stood there breathing it in. Looking at the images again, somehow brings back vague hints of the vastness of experience. It almost feels as if the parts of that adventure that were beyond my ability to fully grasp in the moment, were not lost to that moment. Even though I couldn’t fully process it all, it still became part of me. The aspect of the trek that was beyond my comprehension still colors the portion of my life that is the event. The mystery moves forward within me. The same thing probably applies to many such adventures, but to me, it just seems so fitting for an experience in Nepal.
A Calamity
Two days ago I was thrown back to memories of my travels in Nepal when I learned that Jim Klobuchar’s Adventures has scheduled another trip to the Himalayas for April, 2011. It is tempting to think about the possibility of returning to that place of my greatest adventure. Then, yesterday’s news alerted me to a tragedy that just occurred there, related all too closely to those same memories I was just enjoying.
One of the small planes that shuttles trekkers and mountain climbers to the high peaks, crashed, killing all 14 people on board. They had taken off from Kathmandu, headed for the crazy landing strip at Lukla, and were forced to turn back when visibility diminished. The first day that my group was scheduled to make that same flight, back in 2009, the group just ahead of us had the same experience. They were in the air, but had to turn around and come back. We never even boarded a plane that day. If they aren’t able to fly, you go back to a hotel and try again the next day.
We luckily made it out the very next day. While it was happening, I experienced brief moments of trepidation, but the glory and wonder of the Himalayan Mountains and the sheer excitement of the exotic adventure overruled any fears I was experiencing. But our flight didn’t have any problems.
Having made that very same flight, I am experiencing a deeper sense of mourning for their loss. I can visualize all too well, being able to see the pilots in action and the view out the front window revealing where we were headed. I remember the one young woman flight attendant who passed out cotton for our ears and little hard candies. Then she sat in the very back seat during the flight. They make this flight so many times, I imagine they were able to sense the trouble before the tourists from USA (4), Briton, and Japan. The impact was so intense, none of the remains were intact, making identification of the victims difficult.
In an instant, their adventure is over. Their lives ended.
It is always a risk. The whole trek is fraught with potential for calamity. But it seems like a calculated risk. For those of us on the 2009 trek, we escaped serious harm. The tragedy that just occurred to the 14 souls who lost their lives in that crash, serves to alert us to the grace we experienced, being able to return alive and again hug those who love us the most.
I am feeling more satisfied with my likelihood of not participating in the 2011 trek now. I had a good adventure to that special place once already, and am home, safe and sound.
As if I am any less likely to experience life-threatening calamity in my life here, on any given day…
Temptation
I have yet to write very much about the planning we have been doing for our upcoming travel to Portugal, but with departure now less than a month away, Cyndie and I are daily making decisions related to preparations for that adventure. With the majority of my attention being funneled toward that trip, I was entirely unprepared for the email I received yesterday from the conductor of my favorite travel club.
In April of 2011, he will be guiding another trek in Nepal. I cannot describe how tempting that is to me. As I read his description of the trip, memories of my adventures there in 2009 came flooding back. Knowing what I now know about the whole experience feeds my thinking about how much more I might be able to get out of such a trip, the second time around.
I am remembering the Sherpa people who I came to know so well. They are a major part of the draw I feel to return. It feels uncomfortable to know that another group will be going over without me. It doesn’t feel right. I belong on that trip. I remember meeting Rosemary on the long plane flight out of Los Angeles, and her descriptions of having trekked in Nepal before. At the time, it seemed a little extreme to me. Now I understand it entirely.
I am so tempted to return.
For now, I have a whole ‘nother trip to distract me. We leave for Portugal near the middle of September. I will need to save temptations of the Himalayas until I return. But for a few hours yesterday, my mind was all Nepal, baby. All Nepal.
It is tempting.
One Year
One year ago today on April 7, 2009, I was flying from Kathmandu to Lukla in the Himalayan Mountains of Nepal. If you haven’t read about it here already, I invite you to visit my posts describing the adventure. I’m reliving it in my mind this week and it definitely ignites a desire to be there once again. For now, I have to settle for looking at my pictures. It was a truly wonderful experience.
Relative Something 