Losing your destiny to find your way
My whole life could be summed up in this sentence: “My God! I didn’t know what I was getting myself into!” This is pretty much the definition of an adventure. An adventure requires going beyond your limits and your known experience.
I wanted to try something different when I was choosing a trek in Nepal. There are three main areas that the Kingdom of Nepal offers to the wandering foreigners. The most popular is the “Annapurna Trek” in central western Nepal. It’s fantastic by all accounts. The second most common is the “Everest Base Camp Trek”. Naturally, hiking Everest has a romantic appeal. The last one is a little-known and little-traveled road to Tibet called “Langtang”.
Langtang, a valley that winds through small Himalayan villages and leads to an ancient and mysterious Kudzon Gompa Monastery at 12,000 feet on the border of Tibet. Hmmmm, that sounds appealing. I pride myself on “going native” and try to rework maps to end up in some mischief along the way. Sometimes I am too successful at this.
My girlfriend Kirsten and I bought a map at a trekking shop in Kathmandu and tried to come up with a plan. It turned out that there were some very remote and little traveled paths even in Langtang (an approved trekking area). We would start in a small town called Dhunche. There seemed to be a few paths from this little rocky Himalayan village leading the way back to the Langtang Khola (river) and following it to the Tibetan border. Perfect!
DAY ONE: THE HIMALAYAN EXPRESS
We caught a rickety local bus from the dark Kathmandu station (no more than a small shack) at 6am the next day and began the slow, winding accent towards the mountains. This part of the journey took 12 hours through numerous police checkpoints (to see our trekking permits) and continues through some small dusty towns.
The bus was a colorful mobile sanctuary. On the front was a painting of Buddha’s Eyes, Mantras (sacred words) and the Hindu Elephant Deity Ganesh. It has many attributes, but the protection of the traveler and the removal of obstacles is its main power. What could be better for a bus? Inside, the driver had pictures of various Hindu saints Ramana Maharishi, Sai Baba, plus a few deities for balance: Laxsmi and Krishna.
We got crushed by way too many people who also brought their chickens, pigs and many other items from a shopping spree in the Kathmandu valley. It was one of the scariest roads in the world: one lane, dirt, 1000 foot drops to two feet from the edge of the bus with no guardrail. If you could brave a peak, it was lovely with terraced rice fields on every hill. Prayer flags adorned small stupa temples magically placed on top of each small rounded peak. This was a great initiation into trusting your destiny when you have absolutely no control over it.
It was dusk when we reached the Himalayan village of Dhunche. The bus driver was incredulous about our leaving at this remote little stop and that made us a bit nervous as well. A shiver of anticipation ran down my spine as I left the safety of my hard seat on the bus and entered the rocky town to find a guest house for the night.
We were the only travelers in town and were directed to what one day (when they finish building it) by the friendly locals might be a house of guesswork. Fortunately, the bare cinder block room at the construction site had some sort of futon type bed with thin sheets and pillows like rocks. We paid a dollar for it and then painfully realized the inadequacies of our equipment.
You see, we were not planners. We are spontaneous adventures. We had a couple of light sleeping bags for the summer, tennis shoes and some thick Yak wool sweaters. My jacket was from army surplus and my backpack from a thrift store. We were not the Olympic equipped mountain team that we would see later on the same trail. We were just a couple of people figuring out what kind of gear they’d like to buy when they get back!
For some strange reason, houses in the Himalayas do not have a chimney. Instead, to keep warm in the winter, they fill the room with smoke and have strategically placed holes in the side wall for the smoke to escape. Not terribly efficient or welcoming. I honestly don’t get it. I dreamed of bringing the new fireplace technology here one day. What a revolutionary vision!
Our room did not have a fireplace or smoke from the fire, but the holes had already been cut in the walls for the icy night breeze to cool and invigorate us (practically to death). Needless to say, some vital innovation was needed. We put on all the clothes we had and put both sleeping bags on top of us to try and stay warm. It was mid-November and we were at an elevation of 6,138 feet.
As night descended in earnest, it got dark. This was no ordinary darkness. It was darker than dark. It was a darkness that needs new words to describe the absence of light. There was no one, anywhere, not even with a lighted candle. Highlanders go to bed early and at 8 pm there was pervasive silence and darkness. That’s when we discovered our flashlight wasn’t working.
It was a cheap little travel flashlight and it somehow turned on in the backpack which drained the battery. I guess you could call this the flip side of spontaneity.
To do? I thought we could get by without a flashlight, until an hour later when Kirsten announced that she wanted to pee. There was no way this makeshift concrete room could offer a nearby bathroom. In fact, I don’t think there were any inside the building.
We never realize in our comfortable daily lives the amazing creativity of the mind and its mystical capabilities until times of crisis. Kirsten bravely got out of bed and somehow found what I can only assume must have been a can of paint mix and she did what was necessary. It really was a small miracle.
From then on we carried a new official plastic trekking water bottle known as the pee bottle. It was definitely more essential than the flashlight or all sorts of other useless accessories. Even today, I doubt REI camping stores offer it, but I can assure you that every seasoned female Himalayan traveler has created a portable potty.
Will continue in a few days…
