My Own Adventure

Although I have never had the desire to summit anything, I assumed that part of my grandfather’s love and skill for climbing was in me and Alan kept saying that it would be a great way to experience Nepal. He seemed so excited about it that I agreed. I thought that with his recent interest in summiting things (Mount Rainer and the Grand Tetons) would have prepared him for the physically demanding experience and he would be able to give me some insight into what to expect. Upon our arrival in Nepal I realized that he knew as much as I did and that neither of us had done the proper research only looking at a few blogs.

Never in my wildest dreams could I have anticipated what our 16 day trek in the Himalaya would have in store for me. Later I accepted the fact that I was in denial about what this trek really entailed. Even when we began to gather our gear of down jackets, hats, gloves and waterproof pants in Katmandu I somehow convinced myself that it would only be cold close to the summit and that surely Alan wouldn’t take me out into freezing temperatures for too long because he knew how I disliked the cold. This will go down in history as the greatest attest of my love for him and I will never let him forget it.

So, our adventure began with much excitement and by the end of day one I was exhausted. This hike was much more demanding then I could have anticipated, especially with a 25 pound pack on my back. As we trekked small Nepalese men half our size were running up the mountain sides with very large loads strapped to their heads. I then realized that 60-70 percent of the trekkers had hired porters to carry their backpacks. Why was I unaware of this option before we started? There were trekkers with just their cameras and water bottles taking in the sights. I must admit I was envious on more than one occasion.

By day two my shoulders and hips, where my pack rest, ached and I began to develop some serious blisters on both feet despite the layers of moleskin religiously placed to deter them. Alan and I soon realized that we had packed too much and tried to shed a few pounds of gear.

I started feeling the effects of the altitude in Upper Pisang. I was exhausted, nauseous and had a headache. This was the first of 5 or so days that I would be unable to eat dinner. Meanwhile Alan over the course of this entire trip only suffered from the occasional mild headache.

Then there were the toilets, an item that I got up close and personal with. All the toilets along the trek were squat toilets, basically holes in the ground with a place for your feet and a cup in water bucket as your means of “flushing” (As we continued towards the pass the temperature was so cold that all the buckets for flushing froze-imagine that). In Yak Karda we had the good fortune, as I would really appreciate later, of having an attached toilet in our room for the first time. A few hours later, I had food poisoning. It was a cold, small, concrete room that was begging for a proper cleaning. There is nothing like being sick in a foreign environment without the creature comforts of home. What I would have given for some saltines and ginger ale or a bath!! Instead I had to settle for curry spiced soup with stale biscuits and would spend the next 3 days without a shower. It was also freezing. So cold in fact that the next morning we decided to head up to the next town of Ledar in hopes that those guesthouses would be a bit warmer. The guesthouse in Ledar was in fact warmer and I spent that day and night in bed. The four hour push to Throng Pedi the next day was a tough, very slow hike. Upon our arrival I managed to eat lunch but, still feeling weak and suffering from altitude sickness, I questioned my ability to make tomorrows climb over the pass. The morning of the pass was not a pleasant experience. Every step I took I was out of breath from the lack of oxygen and very cold. I made it but not in the graceful, life changing experience way I had anticipated. I arrived at the top, spent a few minutes and then ran down the other side so frustrated and desperate to get to a lower altitude so I could feel better. Two days later we were below 10,000 feet and after a week of illness I was beginning to enjoy the hike again and appreciate what was around me. On the bright side I came back at least 10 pounds lighter and with a lot more muscle mass then when I started. I would recommend this to others as the worst, but fastest, diet-get-in-shape plan around.

Although half of the climb was spent testing my body’s capability when I thought that it could not go on, trekking the circuit did have many enjoyable experiences. There is nothing like the exhilaration and nervousness of looking down the ledge of a fresh path through a recent landslide or allowing yourself the time for silence while trekking through such remote areas, washing away all of the sensory stimulation and just focusing on the rhythmic ritualistic walking. I found the basic creature comforts were a luxury; I relished a hot shower and a warm place to sleep. The ways of life of the people are set back in time, where everything is still done by hand. There is no rush and without all the excess the people who live in these villages above all seemed happy and content in their simplicity. Towards the end of the climb I was especially able to appreciate the polarity of when my body felt well and how much easier mundane things were. Above all, it was especially in those moments of intense emotions that I realized how happy I was to have someone like Alan by my side and that we had fun and made it together.