The Himalayas are absolutely awe-inspiring and being under them is a humbling experience. Flying into Kathmandu will always be unforgettable. Coming down from 30,000ft into the Kathmandu Valley, with Everest and Lhotse looming majestically above the clouds and Hippipolla by Sigur Ros in my ears, was nothing short of magical.
The plan was to do a 220km circuit through the Annapurna region of the Himalayas with our Sherpa named Dill, a porter named Ram, my good friend from Scotland, and his Dad (who we called Baba-Ji and also soloed Mt. Blanc when he was 16). We were going to be trekking over the Thorong-la, the biggest mountain pass in the world at 17,769ft, and through the deepest valley in the world, the Yarlung Zangbo Valley. Not a small task.
We began the trek from a small bus stop in Pokhara at 5:30am to a town called Besisahar. This is where the maintained road ends and gives way to a road that is straight out of that TV show, World’s Most Dangerous Roads. If you think driving to Bella Coola is insane never go to Nepal. Or pretty much any major city in Asia. The roads are narrow, treacherous, usually with a 500ft drop down a gorge on at least one side of the vehicle. These roads are literally blown out of the side of a valley, where you’re more likely to see a mountain goat than a car.
A few days in, we were stopped by the Nepalese army for about an hour while they blew apart the side of the valley for the new road. The pics below are taken from where we were stopped. If you look closely at the first pic you can see a white scar on the side of the mountain face. This is a Nepalese road office. Nice and safe, 700ft up a valley with a huge river below. I pulled out the telephoto to get a better shot on the second picture. The rest of the photos are of the blasting.
The new road coming up the valley to one of the highest settlements, Muktinath, was a popular topic of conversation. There was a lot of mixed feelings amongst both trekkers and locals. Ninety percent of the trekkers didn’t want the road at all. We all felt that it would take away from the experience. Driving your way up to the roof of the world just doesn’t have the same allure as an adventurous 20 day trek to some of the rarest places in the world. Some locals were excited at the possibility of cheap goods and easier transport. Others felt that it would destroy the culture among the youth of the mountain people. The faster you bring media up into the mountain villages, the more these people become exposed to other parts of the world, and the more they lean away from their traditional way of life.
One thing that everyone experiences when they go into the Himalayas is seclusion. You’re away from everything other than what’s happening in the now. A prime example is the tsunami/earthquake/nuclear meltdown disaster in Japan. We were deep into our trek when it happened and didn’t hear the news until a week after it occurred. It felt like the world could have ended, and we wouldn’t have had a clue. If you’re a National Enquirer or US Weekly addict, this isn’t the trip for you.
After the blasting, we continued moving up the mountain range along the Kali Gandaki river. Every day that went by took us higher and higher into the Himalayas. The people started to look less Nepalese and more Tibetan.
The buildings changed from wood, tin, and bamboo huts, into slate rock held up by yak horn. We also found that customs and religion started to change gradually from Hinduism into Buddhism.
But the change that we noticed the most was the ever growing skyline and shadow of Annapurna herself, getting bigger and bigger.
An Extended Jaunt 