March 10, Chame, beginning of phase II.

Phase II, the approach and crossing of Thorong La, began on a wonderful note yesterday, with my first view of Annapurna II, and a wonderful hour spent examining it in detail over lunch. It quickly turned sour when a chill wind blew up, clouds formed (as they always seem to do by mid-afternoon, and then it began to rain, and right now is raining rather hard. Raj tells me that the wind always blows in the afternoon up here, which is part of why we get up early and do our walking in the morning and early afternoon. I am cold now in my unheated room, and plan to begin wearing my long underwear tomorrow - and we are only about half the altitude of the pass! I worry about whether I have sufficient warm clothing, but Raj assures me what I have will do fine. I am beginning to realize that I can expect to spend the next 6 mornings marvelling at the stunning scenery and the next 6 afternoons huddling over my computer (when I have electricity for it) in a dark room, sometimes with windows staring out at a blank wall. The far side of the pass is desert, so rain won't be a problem, but wind and dust storms may. Then we will be back in pleasant, forested canyon scenery, with frequent views of the other side of the Annapurna group, and warmer more pleasant weather.

March 11 Pisang

It quit raining not long after dark, and the stars came out bright and clear. By the time we had finished breakfast it was already warming up; I took off my fleece 30 minutes later, and my pullover by about 9. Met three nice Israelis and a Dutch guy travelling alone. Annapurna ("full rice bowl" - metaphorically "everything - good health, wealth, everything") played hide and seek with us all day. I got a few photos - we are in a deep canyon so the best you could hope for is shoulders and ridges, but that is spectacular. Raj explained why we stay in some kind of crummy places - it is off season and many places are closed. All of them have been clean, and the foam pad mattresses are pretty good, but they often feel closed in and claustrophobic. The walls are often of very thin plywood or pressed paperboard - no sound insulation and very little heat insulation; the floors shake when you walk. But all building materials have to be manufactured (by hand saw) or carried in by mules or porters, so it's surprising they do as well as they do.

I also had another insight last night during a brief spell of wakefulness: Every day here is a year. Morning is spring, still cold but clear, sunny, and full of promise. Summer starts about 9:30, warm, sunny, and lovely. Autumn starts about mid-afternoon when the wind begins blowing and, often, clouds start building up in the lee of the mountains. By bedtime, it's winter. So my mood is bright and joyous in the mornings and into the afternoon, turns thoughtful and a bit depressive about late afternoon, and crawl into the sleeping bag to hibernate soon after dinner.

Today was a better day - the best afternoon I've had. We got into Pisang about noon, I had momo for lunch, light and fairly good. Then I crossed the river and climbed the stairs (100 meters) to Upper Pisang and the monastery, then followed a trail and some cow trails about another 700 feet up the mountainside above the monastery. If I'd thought to put hiking boots back on I'd have gone even further. I found a place in the lee of some woods with no wind, warm in the sun, and sat for over two hours watching the shadows of the clouds over a nearby ice flow / glacier field, and examining the visible ridge of Annapurna.

March 12, Manang

Great hike today. Climbed over 1000 feet to the hillside village of Ghyaru, then walked along, 1000 feet above the valley floor, with stunning views of Annapurna II and II, views back toward two other mountains; took lots of photos. Saw a herd of Musk Deer, tested my telephoto and image stabilization getting pictures of them. Took more photos of the villages and the houses; most are built of flat stone, some found, most shaped by hand with hammer and chisel. Had a plate of fried rice that was very good for lunch, but still found myself getting quite hungry as the afternoon wore along. This was the longest and most ambitious hike yet, and we didn't reach Manang until after 2. By 1:30 we could see ominous looking storm clouds forming over the peaks to the north and west. By the time I was installed in a spartan little hotel room, with a great view of a glacier flowing down from Annapurna III and lower slopes of Annapurna II, it began to snow here; within an hour the view was moot because visibility had dropped to a few hundred meters. Now I am huddled in a little tent my porter fashioned for me out of two heavy, slightly musty-smelling blankets trying to keep warm. Since there seems to be no electricity to recharge the laptop battery, doing anything with my photos much less actually doing any writine byond this blog is unlikely; looks like another "early to bed" evening, since inside my sleeping bag is the warmest place around.

March 13 Manang

This day was for adjusting to high altitude. Cold when we got up, but quickly warmed; sunny and pleasant like all the mornings. From my hotel room, I got some nice pictures of sunrise on Annapurna II, III, and Ganga Annapurna. Hiked partway up Annapurna III to a really nice viewpoint, where I got a picture of the mountains on either side of Thorong La. Also surprised a herd of deer, got a picture of one of them. I climbed a total of about 2400 feet in probably an hour and a half; felt some thinness of air, but not very bad; no symptoms of altitude sickness, which is a good sign. Will sleep lower than I climbed today both tonight and tomorrow night.

At about 2:00, clouded up again; by 3:30 it looked like it was snowing at higher altitudes, none here yet. Raj says we'll go on to Yak Kharka regardless. He isn't worried about snow on the pass, and thus far he's been right about everything, so I will of course trust his judgment.

Got a few pictures of Manang. Even more than the other places we've stopped, it has the look of a set for an old Western, with dirt streets, stone and somewhat ramshackle wood buildings. The rooms are all spartan, but the one I have here has the luxury of windows facing out in two directions toward mountain views, and a private toilet / shower. They serve American-style food but I've mostly been sticking to the Nepalese menu, which gets more spartan as we leave vegetables behind. Raj has me switched to black tea, which he says is better for you at high elevations - although he did allow me one cup of coffee this morning. I bought a chocolate croissant at a tourist-oriented bakery for afternoon tea; it was surprisingly good, and a nice change from the coconut shortbreads Dhana usually brings me. As I write I hear Nepalese music in the background, which is pleasant. At lunch time, we heard the sound of a helicopter down the valley; all the guides immediately snapped to attention - it is the sign of either altitude sickness or an accident.

They have a lot of very small, very hairy goats - I think they keep them expressly for the hair. Yesterday I saw a horse pawing the ground next to a dormant shrub, to lay bare the roots, which he promptly ate. Forage is rather scarce up here, to say the least. As I finish up this posting, I see that it has started snowing down here on the valley floor as well. I set up a little nest for myself next to a window, pillow between my back and a pillar that supports the ceiling. It had a great view when I started but now it's just snow, and the lower part of the mountainside.

It is interesting how difficult it is to judge heights. These mountains do not look half as high as they are. From my hotel room I look across at where I climbed to this morning and it looks like closer to 500 feet up than 2500 - it is all a matter of comparison, I think. The spot where I stopped this morning is not very high compared to the top, or even to the nearest shoulder of the mountain, so it doesn't look very far up.

March 14, Yak Kharka.

Easy walk up here. Saw an eagle on a rock on the way; I'll upload some telephoto closeups when I can upload pictures. About an inch of snow on the ground, which Raj says means probably at least 2 feet at the pass. Tomorrow when we reach high camp he plans to walk on up the trail to check it out, be sure it's safe before we commit ourselves to crossing. It is snowing lightly again this afternoon, which is probably not a good sign - we need 3 days of sunshine with no new snow for it to melt off on the pass. My hope is that parties preceding us have tromped it down enough that we can pass - we'll see. A big group of Germans showed up at this hotel just after we got here, led by a very aggressive German guide - they seem to have taken over the dining room.

March 15 Base Camp

Today started out looking ugly - snowed lightly half the night, a total of close to 2 inches; sky still cloudy. This was the first night that I needed the blanket all night - one was barely enough and I wished I had two; zipped the sleeping bag clear up, put on the sleeping bag hood, and my feet still never got quite completely warm. There was no light because electricity comes from a hydro-electric generator and the water was frozen. I couldn't find the little headlamp Raj bought me after my flashlight gave out, and I started worrying about my water bottles freezing and bursting, which would be a total disaster. Fumbling around for the headlamp, I bumbled into the Nalgene bottle, the one I was most concerned about because it teams with the water filter, and took the cap off. It didn't freeze solid, but the top two inches were slush when I got up.

There had been talk of possible avalanche hazards on the final stretch of trail before Thorong Phedi, and I was quite concerned about that. Raj assured me there would be no hazard, but left the decision up to me. After thinking about it a while, I realized he was right; we could hike to that zone, if the snow was deep enough to be a concern, turn back. As it turned out, he was right - all the way to Phedi there had been only 2 inches of snow, and the slide zone has enough sparse brush that it wasn't a problem. The trail was a bit slipery in places, as a result of previous hikers, but the snow was relatively dry so in most places the footing was quite good. There was one descent to and crossing of a bridge that was pretty hairy - steep, slippery snow on rocks - otherwise the hike went very well, and turned out to be as pleasant as any of the others.

We stopped for tea at Phedi, and I had a very nice cinnamon roll - short on cinnamon and sugar, but very satisfying. We did not stop for the night at Phedi, but climbed the first 1260 feet of the pass, to Base Camp, which I thought much nicer, very nice view of Annapurna III and Gangapurna; a little hill next to the lodge provides a view of Annapurna IV as well, and a nerve-wracking view of Phedi, almost directly below. I am glad we came clear to Base Camp; it leaves only a bit over 1800 feet for tomorrow. Because winds usually arise by mid-morning, Raj wants to start at 5:30; it is dark until about 6 so we'll be relying on the headlamps for the first half hour or so.

I met a couple of nice kids this afternoon, Carla and Michael, who had tried the pass twice, but Carla was having difficulty with it. They asked Raj if it would be possible to go over the pass that day - and it was already noon! She said she got dizzy and faint, and that it was too cold to stay in Base Camp another night. Raj questioned her and determiined that she probably was not experiencing altitude sickness. After talking with her later - she says she is not in good shape physically at all - I concluded her problem is probably trying to go too fast, then running out of oxygen, which explains her report of dizzy spells. They were also not eating enough, which helps to explain why she feels cold all the time. Raj recommended hot food, and they said they couldn't afford it, because they had already spent all their money. Later I gave them a few suggestions, which they received well - eat something every hour and a half or so while climbing; use the "granny gear" short pace, pause for a breath if necessary, above all listen to your body and stop for breath before you run short.

General rant about student-age tourists trying to do this on the cheap: These kids seem simply naive, although one does have to question why someone who is not in good shape would undertake a trek advertised as "very difficult." Most of these kids lack even the most basic high country knowledge or skills, no idea about common risks such as dehydration and hypothermia, and their understanding of mountain sickness is sparse at best. I have seen many students out here, alone, in small groups of 2-5, and one group of Israelis that is quite large. The line is "you don't need a guide, you can just ask directions." What is missing from that idea is that the person they usually ask is a guide, who is there to answer questions because someone else is paying him - it doesn't bother them to freeload in that or many other ways. Raj is very generous with helping these kids, and I encourage him to, but I find the attitude very arrogant and presumptuous. Raj tells me that there is also a lot of freeloading, attempts to bargain with inn-keepers (the posted prices are set by communal agreement and they are not negotiable). I've seen kids who wouldn't hesitate to spend $5.00 on a pastry in the U.S. back away from one priced at half that - it doesn't seem to occur to them that everything out there, gets there on the back of a mule or a human porter. I saw some of the Israeli group scamming the Dal Bhat system. Here's how it works: With most meals you get one plate of food, and that's all. But when you order Dal Bhat, which includes rice, curried vegetables, sometimes curried meat, and lentil soup, which the Nepalis mix all together, the servers keep coming by with more. So what these students did - two of them ordered Dal Bhat, then passed the plates around to others, who had not paid for any food at all. The place was jammed with people, so the servers did not notice, and 5 or 6 people ate for the price of 2. My impression is that over half of these kids have no idea what they're getting themselves in for; they have no margin in their budget for unexpected disasters.

Equipment failures: First the velcro on my watch strap gave out and the watch dropped off when I didn't notice. Raj bought me a cheap replacement, and the pin holding the strap on gave way twice; the 2nd time it dropped in some melted snow and the face plate came off. Raj was able to dry it out and fix it, but I left the strap off and now carry it as a pocket watch. The switch on my flashlight ceased abruptly to work; Raj was able to get me a cheap head-lamp as a replacement.

The hike up to Base Camp was quite steep, but pretty good trail; using short steps (4-14 inches) I was able to do the entire 1200 feet without stopping in an hour. There is a German guide leading a large (20 or so) group of German tourists - he is in the habit of rushing ahead of his group so as to secure the best rooms at each stop for his clients. Halfway up the pass I noticed him behind me, climbing very fast, strides of at least 24 inches, and thought "well, there's at least one person on this mountain who's in a lot better shape than I! Then, when I was only a few hundred feet short of the lodge, I looked back and noticed that he had stopped and sat down. He didn't reach the pass until about 5 minutes after I did - he commented to me "you're really strong." I replied, "my secret is 'low gear' - very short steps. We exchanged a couple more words, then he rushed in, again, to book the best rooms for his client (Raj didn't show up until about 10 minutes later). Not that any of the rooms were much to brag about - all were small and dark, only a few had any view at all and they had already been booked, the one toilet was effectively outdoors and involved walking through 4-5 inches of crusty snow. That evening I heard Raj telling him that, going over the pass, he had to stay with his clients in case one of them got mountain sickness. He replied, "they're all good!" And Raj asked, "yes, but what if one of them gets sick? If you're out ahead of them who will take care of them, treat them, call a rescue helicopter if it's needed?

About 5:00 they lit an iron stove, fed with Yak dung, and most of the guests gathered around it, huddling to get a bit of warmth. I had a pleasant conversation with the couple I had visited with before, down at Thorong Phedi. I got a couple of pictures. Reminds me of childhood days in Hunt - where it burned sage brush, then coal. The electricity has been off as often as on; it is increasingly cold as we go higher, and everyone is in the same boat. Being cold is a constant problem above 8000 feet or anywhere near one of the heavily glaciated mountains. I brought plenty of clothing fo the hiking itself, but I also find myself wearing most of it during the afternoons and evenings, and usually go to bed by 7:30 or 8 just because it is too cold to do anything else.

March 16, Muktinath.

Prefatory note: I don't think I've said much about toilet facilities. Those who have travelled in Asia will know about the squat toilets, porcelain fixtures flush with the usually concrete floor, with slightly elevated grooved platforms for your feet, positioned that if you place your feet there, you can't miss. There is a large bucket of water nearby and a smaller, liter-sized plastic pitcher-like container. You put your used toilet paper in a nearby basket or box, the Nepali's wash themselves with water from the small container; you are expected to use this container to flush the toilet, and if anything remains on the porcelain, use a brush that is also provided to clean it, then flush again.

I was kept awake half the night last night by the Austrian couple chatting and giggling - either they didn't realize how thin the walls were or didn't care. Finally I banged on the wall and they shut up long enough for me to get a couple hours sleep, then they started up again. They did eventually shut up so I got probably 5 hours of sleep, out of 9 hours in bed. I was in a sleeping bag, covered with a very heavy yak wool comforter, and wearing long underwear and a pullover, as well as socks on my feet, so at least I was reasonably warm.

I was awakened from one of my short sleep spells by other trekkers getting up for an early start about 4:20, so got out of bed, pulled on my fleece pants then my hiking pants and fleece jacket, put on my hiking boots and head-lamp (did I mention that there was no electricity because everything was frozen up?) and walked over to one of the (effectively outdoor) toilets. The last user had not flushed it, and I didn't either, because the bucket of water left for that purpose was frozen solid, or at least to a sufficient depth to make it useless. Well, I remembered this sort of thing from my farm childhood, so I didn't let it faze me. The fact that there was no water to wash my hands did bother me, but not a thing to be done about it! I returned to my room, took my boots back off to put on my rain pants (for extra warmth during the pre-dawn part of the hike), finished packing up the porter's pack (pretty light at the outset, since I was wearing most of its usual contents) and my own. I was delighted to see that my body heat had apparently kept the little cubicle room warm enough that the drinking water I had filtered the previous evening was not frozen. Dressing for the pass involved putting on just about everything I own: long underwear, fleece warmups, hiking pants, rain pants; t-shirt, nylon pullover, fleece jacket, rain jacket/windbreaker. I had just finished packing when Raj came to tell me my porridge was ready, so I followed him over to the candle-lit (but cold). They had cut up an apple in the porridge, but I used up the last of my dried cranberries and almonds anyway. Raj and Dhana had already eaten, so as soon as I finished Dhana and I returned to my room for our packs, did a last check for forgotten items, and set out to join Raj on the trail.

There was a huge line of trekkers, 2/3 of whom had gotten up 1.5 hour earlier to hike all the way up from Phedi, most of them wearing head-lamps. I was remind of nothing so much as a pre-dawn procession of monks or pilgrims, and I guess in a way that's what it was. The sky was already lightening enough to see by so I didn't bother with my own headlamp. It was quite cold, but fortunately there was little wind, and in many sheltered areas none at all.

Most of the others on the trail were going quite slow, but we had to wait for wide places or for places where the snow at the side of the trail was not too deep, and pass them. The first stretch of trail had been carved by the boots of previous hikers in a very steep, 2 to 4 foot snowbnk, collected in the lee of the hill; the trail was snow-covered on and off all the way to the summit. A few patches were iced, either from being compacted by so many hikers passing over the trail or from the previous day's afternoon partial melt, but most of the way up the footing was pretty good.

We hadn't climbed more than 200 feet before we had passed most of the really slow hikers and were able to establish our own comfortable pace (Raj and Dhana seemed to have a pace pretty similar to mine, a little slower uphill and a bit faster downhill). Other than the icy spots, hiking was very enjoyable; I was pleased that, as long as I kept my pace short and my speed down, I did not experience any difficulty breathing. The scenery is stunning, although the really big nearby peaks were only occasionally visible; everything snow-covered except the more or less vertical rock faces. But until about an hour after sunrise, it was too cold even to think of taking off gloves for picture taking. My hands were the only part of me that was cold - I wished I had brought my ski mittens. Wherever the trail conditions permitted, I used only one pole, withdrawing the fingers of the other hand so I could form a warming fist. But after about an hour my body started generating enough heat that this was no longer necessary. We stopped three times to drink some of the half-frozen water, eat a granola bar or other snack, and, the second and third times, take off surplus clothing, for me beginning with the rain pants, which have always been annoying to wear while carrying a pack.

8:00 a.m., a bit over two hours after leaving the lodge, I reached the high point (geographically) of my life: Thorong La. Actually, the high point was a low rise next to the pass, probably 5 or 10 meters higher than the pass itself. A couple of other groups had reached the pass before us, a total of maybe a dozen people, and were celebrating. By now the sun was fully up, there was as yet no wind at all, and it was a very pleasant day. I was very happy to have experienced none of the symptoms of altitude sickness: not even a shadow of a headache, and no loss of appetite at all. As for irritability, others will have to judge that. We took our own pictures, I sat for 10 minutes or so behind a little rock pyramid to contemplate Annapurna IV, visible from the pass in its full glory. A large group arrived, and we saw another large group coming, so after removing some more clothing and adding more sun-block, we shouldered our packs and set off for the descent, a full mile to the valley below.

Sun-glasses: I wore my darkest, wraparound sun-glasses, but kept checking to be sure I was wearing them. A welder's helmet would probably be better.

The trail down is in several ways much worse than the trail up. Most of it is quite steep, and the first half was mostly covered with snow or ice. In many long stretches, the trail sloped outward toward an edge; usually the trail was cut into a steep enough slope that sliding off would mean sliding 15 or 20 feet down below the trail. None of it life-threatening, but a fall would not have been in any way pleasant. Near the bottom of this section we came to a broad nearly flat shoulder of the mountain, where we stopped for a long break, water and snack, and removed yet more clothing. Then we set off down the bottom half, that had only a few icy spots but many areas of steep, gravelly or cobbly stretches. Laura might remember some of the worse stretches on the Point Defiance trail we took last year, only the full 5000 feet was more or less like that.

We finally came to the Muktinath side Phedi ("Phedi" simply means "foot of the pass.") It is somewhat poorly named, since there was still 1200 feet to descend, but the trail below the little village is much better, about half the grade of the top 4000 feet, wider, and less cobbly. We had tea and light noodle soup (very like Rah Min with some spinach and thin carrot slices in it) on a sun-drenched patio. There are several hotel / restaurants in this little village; the trail passes right through all of their patio dining areas. All have parabolic solar water-heaters.

On our way again, we met a couple, probably French, carrying very heavy packs (obviously planning to camp out, and probably to cook their own food). Raj asked if they were headed to Manang, and the man responded "Yes," in a voice that sounded tired and discouraged to me. I could only think, if he was already tired after carrying that pack up 1200 feet of easy trail at the relatively low altitude of 13000 feet, he was going to be in really miserable shape on the top half of the trail. To make matters worse, clouds were already gathering over the mountains to the west, clouds that appear to promise more snow. I think our own timing was not that bad - at least we had two clear, dry, snow-free days for the transit over the pass. I would not care to do the west side, downhill or uphill, if it were any more icy than it was today. And I don't think I would care to carry a pack heavier than maybe 45 pounds over it in either direction.

We reached Muktinath and Raj booked rooms for us at the hotel he likes. As has been the case about half the time, my room here is a small cubicle with a single window looking out on a rock wall about 3 feet distance, no place I want to spend time except when I go to bed. Fortunately there is an upstairs dining room surrounded with windows that is warmer, just because of the greenhouse effect, where I am writing this. Unfortunately, the architect or builder chose to emplace the windows in such a way that the potentially spectacular views of nearby mountains are precisely blocked by 8 inch wide window frame / cross-beams; the mountains can be seen only by ducking one's head to about the level of an 8 year old child. They also allowed trekking companies to paste ads a few inches below that window frame, further interfering with the view.

I was sad to hear that two more of the people I had met and become friendly with experienced difficulties. One person came down with a bad case of diarrhea; one member of the young couple from Montana experienced altitude sickness and had to turn back.

LaJean and others who have observed my fanatic commitment to fruit and vegetables will understand how unhappy I have been about the increasing scarcity of both as we climbed to ever higher altitudes - "vegetables" came to mean potatoes, maybe a bit of carrot and/or cabbage. It was a great thrill to get back to a place where both fruit and vegetables are a bit easier to come by. I was going to wait until lower elevation to have either meat or alcohol, but Raj ordered a Yak steak (he says it is more likely that it is actually buffalo, since Yak meat is very expensive and not very available) and a beer. Both were great - the steak was in a sauce that included garlic, dried mushrooms, and some herb that I'm not familiar with, that I've tasted in other Nepali dishes. There were roasted potatoes, and three different vegetables! - broccoli, cauliflower, and carrots. The steak was huge so I only ate half of it, but I was sitting at a table with several nice young people from Germany, the U.S., and Malaysia, and they gladly finished it for me. We had a nice conversation for a while, but at over 13000 feet elevation the beer still packed a lot of punch, so I went to bed early, and slept soundly for over 8 hours.

This was a great day and a great adventure. I can understand why many of the people I met plan to take a jeep out from here, or an airplane from Jomsom, about 15 miles away. But Raj assures me that the second half of the trek will afford many other spectacular views, and expose me to many new cultures. So this entry closes Stage 2. If I'm not able to get photos uploaded with this posting, I think I will be able to do so in a few days - Raj tells me that several of the stops on the south side of the Annapurna region have much better internet coverage.





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