Dole, but not dull!
The day's trek begins with a steep 1,000 foot ascent. We will eventually discover that all our campsites are located in valleys, to protec t from the winds, with the result that each day's walk begins with a steep ascent to climb out of the valley. Within 15 minutes of embarking, we are huffing and discouraged, wondering if we can endure the fatigue throughout the day. However, as the pulse rate gets up to speed and we gain our footing, things become bearable.
This one is a challenge, however--the 1,000 foot ascent is followed by a 1,000 foot descent, which is followed by a 3,000 foot ascent. So when our sidhar (lead guide) tells us that we will gain 2,000 feet that day, it actually means 4,000 feet of climbing, as he doesn't bother to count re-gaining anything that we lose during the course of the day! He will rot in hell for that sin!!
We take a long break in a small village at the end of a climb, waiting at least an hour for Don and Paul, our slowest hikers to catch up. At this point the rest of our group begins to place odds on whether these two will actually complete the trip, and none of us would be shocked to hear either or both of them announce that they've decided to turn back. It turns out, however, that they may be slow, but completely undaunted and not finishing has never crossed their minds. In the village, a couple of "crazed yaks" (yes, they actually do exist, and are not merely elements of the old Carnak curses, "May a crazed yak...) lower their heads and charge a couple of people. The kid "leading" them via a rope is clearly not the one in charge of that three-some. When they arrive, Paul and Don report that they had been charged by the same yaks, and their sherpa had immediately thrown himself between the yaks and his clients. How much are we paying these guys?? (Not much, it turns out--the per capita income of rural Nepalese is about $130/year.)
The weather is turning colder as we gain altitude. I'd say it's in the upper 40's when we arrive at Dole (acutally rhymes with "ole!", not with the brand of pineapple.) We discover our tents up and hot tea awaiting us (Horray for sherpas and porters!) when we arrive around 4:00, half an hour before losing the sun behing the western ridge. This doesn't mean sunset and darkness, but it does mean the temperature drops another 15 degrees.
A kerosene lantern gives light and heat to the mess tent, and we are quite comfortable in there, even though we can see our breath. Dinner is impressive, and delicious! All our evening meals begin with a soup; tonight's entre features a "mile high" veggie pizza and mashed potatoes with gravy. But the gravy turns out to be a meaty stew with veggies--the best food item so far. Later, we begin to notice the pizza tasted a lot like yesterday's spring rolls. We don't suspect disguised leftovers, merely a limited number of spices in our cook's repetoire. This is the first hint of what we will soon experience--all our meals are spicy and all are beginning to taste the same. This may be the result of altitude or may be the result of daimox, which we take to combat altitude sickness and is known to affect the sense of taste.
We are such grown-ups, remaining in the mess tent talking and drinking hot tea until at least 7:30 pm, when we crawl into sleeping bags and collapse!
This one is a challenge, however--the 1,000 foot ascent is followed by a 1,000 foot descent, which is followed by a 3,000 foot ascent. So when our sidhar (lead guide) tells us that we will gain 2,000 feet that day, it actually means 4,000 feet of climbing, as he doesn't bother to count re-gaining anything that we lose during the course of the day! He will rot in hell for that sin!!
We take a long break in a small village at the end of a climb, waiting at least an hour for Don and Paul, our slowest hikers to catch up. At this point the rest of our group begins to place odds on whether these two will actually complete the trip, and none of us would be shocked to hear either or both of them announce that they've decided to turn back. It turns out, however, that they may be slow, but completely undaunted and not finishing has never crossed their minds. In the village, a couple of "crazed yaks" (yes, they actually do exist, and are not merely elements of the old Carnak curses, "May a crazed yak...) lower their heads and charge a couple of people. The kid "leading" them via a rope is clearly not the one in charge of that three-some. When they arrive, Paul and Don report that they had been charged by the same yaks, and their sherpa had immediately thrown himself between the yaks and his clients. How much are we paying these guys?? (Not much, it turns out--the per capita income of rural Nepalese is about $130/year.)
The weather is turning colder as we gain altitude. I'd say it's in the upper 40's when we arrive at Dole (acutally rhymes with "ole!", not with the brand of pineapple.) We discover our tents up and hot tea awaiting us (Horray for sherpas and porters!) when we arrive around 4:00, half an hour before losing the sun behing the western ridge. This doesn't mean sunset and darkness, but it does mean the temperature drops another 15 degrees.
A kerosene lantern gives light and heat to the mess tent, and we are quite comfortable in there, even though we can see our breath. Dinner is impressive, and delicious! All our evening meals begin with a soup; tonight's entre features a "mile high" veggie pizza and mashed potatoes with gravy. But the gravy turns out to be a meaty stew with veggies--the best food item so far. Later, we begin to notice the pizza tasted a lot like yesterday's spring rolls. We don't suspect disguised leftovers, merely a limited number of spices in our cook's repetoire. This is the first hint of what we will soon experience--all our meals are spicy and all are beginning to taste the same. This may be the result of altitude or may be the result of daimox, which we take to combat altitude sickness and is known to affect the sense of taste.
We are such grown-ups, remaining in the mess tent talking and drinking hot tea until at least 7:30 pm, when we crawl into sleeping bags and collapse!
posted by Dave Fry | 9:00 AM
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