Anyone who knows me knows how much I love to hike. When I was living in Our criteria was something close, something that could be done in a few days to a week, something that was going to be open and not snowed in, and something not too high requiring acclimatization. Referring to our trusty guidebook (10 years out of date yet pretty deceptive about many things….including this trek), we decided to go on a ‘moderate’ 4-5 day trek in the Helambu valley. It was between this and a 4-5 day trail in the Annapurna range, but the 9 hour bus ride to Pokhara (the jumping off point for
From the guidebook - “Considered the most easily accessible of all trekking regions is the upper valley of the Melemchi Khola, called Yolmu, Helmu, or Helambu by its Sherpa (an ethnic group like the Newari or Tamang) residents….This is a ramble rather than a distinct trek…Pleasant oak forests, thick rhododendron stands, occasional snow topped mountain views, and interesting Sherpa villages…The lower valley is comparatively dull and depressingly hot much of the year, so we spent most of our time up high in mountains. The trek provides a sudden and dramatic contrast between high and low regions and their characteristics cultures.”
He’s right about many of the things listed here, but let me tell you right now, this was no ramble!
Day 1: Sudarjinal to Chisapani
Rising early in the morning to get a good start on the day we caught a taxi to our starting point on the northeast side of the valley, Sudarjinal (1,480 meters/4,868 feet), an end-of-the-road row of crappy teashops and dilapidated houses. There, where the road literally ends, was a stone staircase ascending past a small waterfall and following a large water diversion pipe taking millions of gallons of mountain water to
From the pass, we began our first downhill and continued following the forested ridge for the next hour before finally having to climb up to the small and non-descript town of
I consider these words by Thich Nhat Hanh my birthday thought –
When he was challenged by Mara – who personifies delusion – the Buddha touched the Earth with his right hand and said, ‘With Earth as my witness, I will sit here in meditation until I realize true awakening.’ When he did that, Mara disappeared.
Sometimes we too are visited by Mara – when we feel irritated, insecure, angry, or unhappy. When that happens, please touch the Earth deeply with your feet. Please practice walking meditation. The Earth, our mother, is filled with deep love for us. When we suffer, she will protect us, nourishing us with her beautiful trees, grasses, and flowers.
Day 2: Chisapani to Golphu Bhajyang
Our second day started with a very long and somewhat painful 1,500 foot descent to Pati Bhanjyang.
In hiking circles there is a long standing debate on which is worse – uphill or downhill. Personally, I think downhill is more demanding physically, uphill is more demanding mentally. But Leigh doesn’t agree. In fact she thinks the opposite – down is mentally harder for her; whereas, uphill is more physically challenging.
Nestled in a saddle between two high peaks, Pati Bhanjyang was a pretty place and would have been a nice spot to spend the night if we could have made it the last 1 ½ miles from Chisapani on the first day. But we didn’t and so it was a nice place to walk through on our way to the next climb. (Already at this point we were beginning to judge our hiking time by our next climb or next descent). I will say that Pati was the only place in
This was the first place I really experienced ‘trekking impact’. As we were hiking out of Pati, the local school children were coming down the trail to begin the day’s lessons. We must have passed at least 20 of them in a 10 minute period. After the customary “Namaste” greeting (though many kids preferred a series of shouted, giggly “Hellos”), every single one of them would then demand “Gimme pen. Gimme chocolate. Balloon? Gimme rupee. Gimme candy. Pen? Candy? Rupees?” It was really kind of disturbing to me. I had no idea that these young kids were already so ingrained to associate white skin with hand outs. I must again argue against the giving out of anything to children directly as this is a perfect example of how their perceptions are distorted regarding tourists. They now see us as mere repositories of stuff to be asked or begged for. It seems that the only thing that trekking has brought to these hills is a little bit of money, a whole lot of trash and a great deal of cultural havoc. According to one study (done about 10 years ago), only about 20 cents out of the average trekkers daily expenditure of US $3 goes into the local economy. There are very few local products sold to trekkers as most are carried up from the lower region of
OK….off the soap box….From Pati to our lunch spot at Chipling, we were blessed with a really nice, long section of flat trail walking. We were able to watch men drive their water buffaloes along their terraced plots, plowing up the ground and getting it ready for the yearly pre-monsoon planting season. The women were busy either using the hoe to dig up large rocks before the plows or gathering shrubbery and foliage from the surrounding hills to carry back to the water buffaloes or goats. The morning sun was warm but not too hot, the trail was flat and wide, the scenery beautiful and interesting.
At first, I was a little skeptical of walking through villages and fields. It made me feel a little uncomfortable walking in people’s backyards. Where was the wilderness? Where was the sense of adventure if you’re always around settlements? Do these people really want a bunch of smelly, sweaty foreigners tromping through everyday? But as I noticed most people ignore me along the way and then being able to sit and have a warm meal for breakfast, lunch and dinner cooked for you (with hot milk tea breaks occasionally); I began thinking that I could definitely get used to this. You could carry a tent and a stove and all your food and fuel if you want, but then at the same time you’re kind of missing the point to trekking, which isn’t backpacking or seeking solitude necessarily….it’s about walking through people’s backyards and staying with them and meeting them and saying hello and exchanging experiences and sharing laughter & smiles with other human beings on the other side of the world.
Of course the flatness didn’t last and after a brief tea break (more milk and sugar than tea), our climbing began again. And up we go again another throbbing 1,500 feet to the very pretty
Up and over the high ridge to the north of Chipling, passing around our first of many chortens, and we entered an entirely different ecosystem with large oaks, large ferns and beautiful white orchids seemingly growing out of the oak trees bark. It was really beautiful and since it was on the north slope, pretty cool. Dropping down, we entered the small saddle town of
Day 3: Golphu Bhajyang to Mangengoth
Starting in Golphu the trail went straight up and ran along ridge for a few miles to the small and empty
From here are no permanent settlements till Therapati, at least 3,000 feet up and a good 13 or 14 miles away. And considering we were not really moving very fast and it was already past lunch, this had Leigh and I a little concerned. We had food with us, mostly snacks, but some dinner makings and breakfast things. And I had the tent and my stove, so we weren’t going to starve or die of exposure (at least we didn’t think so). The trail traverses high, desolate pastures seldom visited except by the shepherds and woodcutters; the solitude and wilderness like this is rarely experienced on a main trail or that close to
This was the lofty land of the tree people. I call them that because as we were in the midst of this ridiculously steep and tall scramble, we passed through the ‘funky tree forest’ as Leigh called it. Imagine a thick forest of oak trees where there are no branches and the leaves grow directly out of the trunk. Sounds weird doesn’t it? Well it is and for the longest time, neither of us could figure out how the hell trees could grow like that. Was it the wind? Was it that particular species of tree? The mystery was finally revealed when I spotted a man 50 feet up in this tree cutting away some foliage and gradually moving up the trunk basically stripping it of any outgrowing material. So in this way, this group of high pasture dwellers had essentially trimmed an entire forest of branches and kept them trimmed by taking the cuttings home to their livestock. So here is a forest with nothing but bushy trunks and crazy people who climb them to their tops, trimming the foliage as they go. It was amazing and quite wild.
Once above the very steep land of the tree trimmers, the wind took over the landscape. We were high on the ridge and hiking in the midst of the clouds. It was cold, windy, desolate and eerie. The mountains began to take on more a dark, sinister energy. There was no one around and we couldn’t see much beyond 50 feet on either side of us. This constriction of vision and the closely bunched rhododendron forest on either side of the trail lent a very powerful claustrophobia to this section and it was extremely disconcerting. To add to the mood was this incredible dusty and rocky climb we were in the middle of. All of these factors led to a very gradual but very apparent mental meltdown and I eventually sat down and told Leigh I couldn’t keep climbing. I had hit the wall and I gave up. I’m embarrassed to say, I quit. I was close to tears and my legs, my lungs and my mind just could not take another step straight up. You must understand the trails I am used to usually follow the elevation contours and are typically old logging roads so there is some sort of sanity to their loss and gain. Not here. No way. The trail we were on was developed and worn over centuries of generations of Sherpa, Tamang and Tibetan peoples walking the most direct route possible - straight up and over the mountains and then straight down the mountains. There was no conscious planning. No gradual gains or losses. The Nepal Gov’t just slapped on an official trekking trail label on these ancient footpaths in the mountains and now we out-of-shape, white recreational walkers have to deal with those painful ramifications!
Leigh, bless her heart, saved me. She was such a trooper, I can’t even tell you. She helped me up, reminded me the ascent was almost over and kissed me for strength. Without her support, I would have turned down the hill and headed down. I didn’t care where, just down. But once again, she saved me and together we completed the horrendous ascent (from 2,470 meters to 3,514 meters or 3,434 feet all in less than 3 miles!).
By the time we reached our sleeping destination, Mangegoth, the environment was completely alpine. It was cold, there was snow in the dark places and from the pass we could see the really tall, glacier-capped Langtang mountain range (finally!). This pitifully poor collection of 4 stone houses (3 of them closed and locked tight) had a total population of 3! But of those 3 people living here, one of them gave us a place to sleep, a warm fire to sit by and real Tibetan tea to revive our tired bodies and souls. Real Tibetan tea! Black tea, milk, butter and salt. I know it might sound kind of gross to those who aren’t used to it, but goddamn! At 11,500 feet, it nurses the body and spirit back to health in indescribable ways. The butter and milk give you fat to burn, the tea gives a little spark of caffeine and the salt replaces all lost by sweating. Sitting by that wood burning stove, sipping on the piping hot butter tea and feeling life return to my limbs, my thanks and praises were numerous and strong!
After licking our wounds during a self made dinner of spaghetti with tomato sauce and tuna, we both went to bed….completely exhausted but content.
Day 4: Mangegoth to Melamchigoan
With the sky crystal clear, the waning moon setting in the West, and the early sun illuminating the majestic, craggily, jutting peaks of the Langtang range to the North, we started our alpine adventure the morning of the fourth day with some more butter tea and a breakfast of tsampa. Never was there a more ideal breakfast for the upper altitude hiker! Sticks to the ribs, know what I mean? I really have to hand it to the Tibetans. They really know what works at high altitudes – butter tea and tsampa (roasted barley flour with butter tea mixed to make a thick porridge paste – rich, earthy, hearty). I guess after living above 10,000 feet for thousands of years, you might have an idea of what works and what doesn’t, huh?
In answer to our spirited prayers the evening before, the trail gratefully stuck to the gently rolling ridge line for the remainder of the morning. With gorgeous views of deep canyons and jagged ridges falling sharply away below us (and I was really considering ‘escaping’ by climbing down that?!), the walk this morning was breathtaking, totally enjoyable, and a strong reminder of Earth’s majesty, beauty, and variety. Passing through high meadows dotted with crumbling shepherd’s huts, otherwise known as Sherpa’s Hotels, the clean air and stunning views brought a renewed sense of accomplishment and joy from making it over the dreaded 3rd day, or ‘hump day’, when everything starts to pile up and thoughts of quitting or defeat begin to creep into the mind.
Timing it perfectly, we arrived at the highest settlement on our trek, the collection of stone and wood buildings that occupy the wind-swept, cold, rocky pass of Therapati (3,510 meters/11,536 feet). Above tree-line combined with the thin air, swirling clouds, the thick falling snow (our first!) and the towering massive of rock surrounding us created for me a scene out of Lord of the Rings and my child-like imagination took hold. Leigh and I were on our way through the
Just to recap for you, the last 3 days we have climbed and climbed and climbed. Well, you know all that elevation we gained over those last three days? During the next 3 hours, we lost almost half of it (about 3,000 feet in about 3 miles!) From Therapati, the track went straight down a steep, steep ravine. Through the falling snow of the afternoon, through the thick oak & rhododendron forests, in between two towering canyons with powerful and loud cascading creeks we dropped. With shaking knees screaming, we finally came out of our crazy descent at an old swinging bridge spanning a deep rushing mountain creek below. This being my first swinging bridge in
Walking up and out of the creek’s canyon, we were greeted with such a wonderful view of old stone walls, orchards, agricultural fields, tidy stone houses, a landscape dotted with prayer flags, and a superior view of the entire Melamchi Khola valley falling away from us to the South. We had entered the beautiful and most enjoyable valley community of our entire trek – Melamchigaon.
Melamchigaon (2,560 meters/8,421 feet) is Helambu’s finest Sherpa village. The Helambu Sherpa’s are distant cousins of the Khumbu Sherpas, speaking a related but distinct dialect. Like the Khumbu, they emigrated from
Day 5: Melamchigoan to Doring
I do not believe in coincidences. So I feel everything that occurs happens for a reason. There is a reason for everything….even chaos. Anyway, when we were looking for a place to stay in Melamchigaon, we stopped at 2 different places before we found the right one, the only one we could have stayed in. The first one didn’t ‘feel’ right. Call it a hunch; a gut feeling; instinct…I call it one of the senses. The next place we tried, a lodge established to support the local gompa, was closed. So as we were continuing our search, we finally came to the Tashi Delek Lodge, run by the sweetest woman I’ve ever met in my life, Lhamo Lama. Her husband, Palsang Lama, was a very pleasant & courteous man, but it was Lhamo (who runs the house) who brought the soul and magic of the place to life. We were total strangers, yet she cared for us, nursed us, and tended to us like we were her own flesh. Her laughter came easily and was totally infectious. Her respect and generosity was genuine and was given to us, her guests, but also to her neighbors and friends. She is an absolutely incredible human and I will never forget her. If her house wasn’t so difficult to get to, I’d would go and stay with her all the time! Obviously, if anyone reading this ever comes to
We spent the first part of the morning relaxing and enjoying the warm sun, great views and calming environment of this special valley. The second half of the morning we were led on a mini pilgrimage to one of Guru Rinpoche’s meditations caves and a Guru Rinpoche blessed spring. Both very interesting places. It is always so encouraging seeing the Earth’s wonder being so powerfully revered.
After our lunch and a reluctant farewell, we began walking south for the first time and continued our descent out of the mountains. Another precipitous drop in elevation to the river and another (though better constructed) swinging bridge across and we were on our way out of the high valley culture and entering into the lower areas again. Forsaking the traditional trek that would have taken us back up the ridge, we decided we would take the ‘local’ trail and roughly follow the elevation laterally across the faces of the vertical ridges and quit climbing straight up and down them. Sounded like a good plan, but there is no gradual here; and though the ups and downs were not as long, and the trail was technically following the river gorge (though higher up on the canyon walls, not the river banks) there were still so many that by the time we reached our resting spot that evening, I was literally shaking with fatigue and on the verge completely shutting down with heat exhaustion. These mountains were kicking my ass! I am humbled and will never, ever complain about the ups and downs in the
Day 6: Doring to Mahakanal
OK, last day….we’re almost done. Thanks for sticking with me so far. From our place of sleep, Doring, the going got much easier, much flatter and we made good time to our final destination, the bus stop in Mahankal. The farther south we went, the farther down we went, the wider, more populated, hotter and more irrigated the valley became. We passed hydro-powered grist mills grinding corn. We passed fields and fields of potatoes being irrigated by hand dug channels following the trail. It was a nice, easy, interesting (several hand painted signs along the way that said “The Communist Party of Nepal (Maoists) Heartily Welcome All Tourists.”) stroll for the last day. The walk only took us about 3 ½ hours before we were passing into the bus stop ticket counter and buying our one ways back to
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Some facts and figures….not for the faint of heart….The total elevation loss/gain (add up all climbing and descending) for our trek was 8,280 meters…or over 27,200 feet! The total mileage for our ‘ramble’ (as the guidebook described it) was around 40-45 miles or averaging 9 miles a day. Doing the math, it comes to roughly 3,000 feet of ascent or descent a day. To put it into a little more concrete perspective, that is about 600 feet gain/loss per mile. In other words, every mile we walked, it was like going up or going down a 6 story building! Every mile!
Now, what’s the highest point on the East Coast? Mount Mitchell in
For those of you who have persevered through this extraordinarily long and winding entry, you now have a sense of the pain, suffering, reward and joy Leigh and I experienced on this almighty birthday trek. Like the trail we survived, you have survived this blog entry. Now go fix yourself a drink and thank the Gods you have a couch!
