When I naively agreed to my husband Barry’s suggestion we trek the Annapurna Circuit in the Nepal Himalaya, I had no idea what lay ahead. A seasoned mountaineer, he considered the 23-day circumambulation of the Annapurna Massif a must on his bucket list. My longest multi-day backpack trip to date was 10 days rambling through the hills of England’s Lake District with luggage delivered each evening to a cushy B&B accommodation and a rest day half way.
“And, if we’re going to travel all that way, we could add the Annapurna Sanctuary to the itinerary,” he said.
“Another 13 days?” I gasped. Not to be outdone I countered, “Well, I’ve always wanted to see the forbidden kingdom of Upper Mustang. It’s 14 days trekking and tenting. Are you up for sleeping on the ground?”
“We really should include the classic Everest Base Camp circuit,” said Barry. Finally, the number of hotel days for rest and laundry in Kathmandu and scenic lakeside Pokhara negotiated, at age 66, we packed our duffle bags, shouldered our day packs and set off for a three-month trekking adventure in Nepal.
We hoped our regimen of cross-country skiing and snowshoeing, combined with four-hour summer pack-laden hikes, would prepare us. Thirteen hours to Hong Kong, two days to combat jet lag, then on to Kathmandu.
Annapurna Here We Come
From Kathmandu to Besisihar, passing buses with names like Hero of the Road and Rock Star, our Land Cruiser slip-slid through axle-high mud and ruts on the ride. We were relieved to lace our boots and start walking.
Our plan was to complete the 23-day journey during what guidebooks portray as the pleasant, late September post-monsoon period. Instead, the first few days the rain was relentless. Sharing muddy trails and suspension bridges with school children, ponies and porters, we gained an appreciation of Nepali flat, ukalo, oralo, a little bit up, a little bit down.
As the skies cleared, our focus turned to serious altitude gain. Thorang La, the trek’s high point at 5,416 metres was only days ahead. At Mangang’s Himalayan Rescue Society, the lecture on Acute Mountain Sickness highlighted the need to drink two litres of chlorine-pill-treated water a day and consider the possibility of taking Diamox to combat the effects of altitude. Mild headaches and shortness of breath couldn’t dampen our delight in bridges festooned with flapping prayer flags and yaks roaming heathered hillsides.
Day 13 we grumbled out of sleeping bags, donned headlamps and set off at 4 am in the footsteps of our guide, Raj Neupane. At 7:30 am, we celebrated at the summit, Thorang La, among laughing trekkers and singing Nepalis. We gulped hot lemon and took photos before attacking the knee-knackering descent to Muktinath.
To avoid the three-day hike along the gritty road to Jomsom, we opted to catch a bus. We came to regret this decision: the teenaged driver fancied himself as NASCAR race driver Richard Petty as he barely negotiated the wild switchbacks above the Kali Gandaki River, the world’s deepest gorge.
Back on the trail, a 1,500-metre ascent ended in culture shock as we left the relative peace of the Annapurna Circuit to merge with crowds on the six-day Ghorapani to Ghandruk trek. We joined mobs of tourists trudging up Poon Hill for sunrise photo ops of Annapurna South and Macchapuchhare, the Fishtail. Later in the lodge dining room, we warmed ourselves by the giant fireplace while feasting on flaming chicken served sizzling hot in an iron dish. In the evening, Raj taught us Nepali songs and dances to celebrate Dashain, the national festival of Nepal.
Then, for a few days, the trail wound down through farms of millet, rice and mustard. Blissfully back off the beaten track, we slept at Chhomrong’s Excellent View Top Lodge anticipating a breakfast at Cottage Bakery, which featured Nepal’s best chocolate cake. We agreed we’d need the calories to tackle the steep slopes ahead.
Instead of continuing to Naya Pul, the traditional end of the Annapurna Circuit trek, we detoured to Tadapani. Our plan: continue to the centre of the Annapurna range to experience the 360-degree view of the glaciers and peaks of the Annapurna Sanctuary.
On either side, the Machhapuchhre and Hiunchuli peaks, considered the gates to Annapurna Sanctuary, dominated our days. Bistari, bistari, slowly, slowly, we ascended toward ABC, Annapurna Base Camp.
Our spirits were dampened by the descent of a dinnertime fog as we huddled together in down jackets in the ABC dining hall.
However, aging has its benefits: “Lucky I had to get up to pee at midnight,” I said, sidling up to Barry, his camera already set on a tripod. “If I were younger, I might have missed this view.” Miraculously, the heavens had cleared. We celebrated life under a starlit sky with jagged snowy profiles shimmering in the light of the harvest moon.
Two days later, we guzzled Everest beer on the patio of the Evergreen Hotel in Jihnu Danda. A leisurely downhill walk through towering bamboo led to hot pools. Beside the roaring rapids of the Modi River, we plunged our aching muscles into the metre-deep bath.
Next stop, Pokhara. Five days of laundry, and reading and leisurely hot showers. Five nights of pizza, wine and gelato: mouth-watering treats after rice, lentils and overcooked vegetables. Happily, due to Raj’s sage advice regarding the lack of refrigeration in most guesthouses, “Don’t eat eggs or chickens unless you see chickens in the yard,” we were not sick the entire trip.
I felt fit and confident, ready for the next challenge.
On the Roof of the World
Our route to the capital city Lo-Manthang snaked along the ankle-jarring pebbles of the Kali Gandaki riverbed from Jomson and over several passes higher than 4,000 metres. Fully acclimatized, our headaches had vanished.
Six mornings of blasting winds, sand grains biting at our skin, swathed bandit-like in neck tubes, hats, sunglasses and long-sleeved shirts. Six nights of camping in dusty packed-earth courtyards, our tents protected from fierce afternoon sandstorms by rudely constructed mud-brick walls.
By day, we communicated with hand signals, our words snatched by noisy gusts. At night, we discovered sand in our ears, caked on the sweaty interior of our sunglasses and deep in our wool hiking socks.
And every step was worth it.
Our goal was to reconnect with the Tibetan culture that had seized our souls during a recent visit to Lhasa and sacred Mount Kailash. We wanted to witness what remains of an ancient civilization.
Upper Mustang, and its capital Lo-Manthang, lie at an altitude of 3,840 metres on the high desert of the Tibetan plateau along the border of Nepal, surrounded on three sides by Tibet. Politically part of Nepal, it’s geographically and culturally Tibetan. Travel to the area is restricted and costly.
Raja Jigme Dorje Palbar Bista, the hereditary 25th king of the medieval walled capital city Lo-Manthang was reduced by the Nepalese government to the rank of Raja in 2008. The septuagenarian has witnessed myriad changes in his lifetime, the most dramatic during the past two decades when foreigners have been allowed access to his kingdom.
French explorer Michel Peissel, whose pioneering visits opened this region to Western awareness in the 1960s, described the town then as “one great cement block, laid down upon an inferno of barrenness by the hand of some warring god, with houses packed like cubes within the walls.”
Now shops, guesthouses and campgrounds sprawl outside those once-impregnable barricades.
On our morning walk along the outer perimeter of the walled city, a parade of several hundred scruffy gray goats meandered along narrow streets toward meager mountain pastures. Women gossiped at the communal water source, trekkers sipped steaming tea by their tents inside stone-walled camping compounds and expedition cooks lined up at the kerosene depot vying for rare fresh fruit and vegetables demanded by clients.
The air was fragrant with yak and horse dung.
Walking back to our tents we heard the din of cymbals, whining trumpets and the rhythmic pounding of drums. Buddhist monks were preparing for Duk Chu, the next day’s festival of dances and prayers marking the coming of winter. After the ceremonies, 60 per cent of the 1,000 resident Lhobas, would depart for the warmer climes of Kathmandu and India.
We, too, headed south, the first day by a different route, to the ancient monastery at Ghar Gompa, past the red cliffs of Dakmar, followed by several more days retracing our steps to Jomson for a flight to Pokhara. A few more days of relaxation and refueling prepared us for the next leg of our journey.
Final Push to Everest Base Camp
Then the fun began.
Instead of the planned flight from Kathmandu to Tenzing-Hillary airport in Lukla, considered the world’s most dangerous airport, inclement weather forced our pilot to set the 18-seat plane down on the bumpy dirt track at Lamidanda village. From there, we whirled through darkening skies in the last helicopter out to Phakding where we would begin walking.
The ochre, arid pebbles and dust of Upper Mustang had offered a stark contrast to the greens and blues and snowy peaks of the Annapurna vegetation. Now the rocky, charcoal-toned rugged terrain of the Everest Circuit engulfed us.
Thankful for minimal crowds in the Annapurna area and virtually none in Upper Mustang, Barry and I, who had chosen to travel alone with a guide and porter, were rudely awakened from our serenity on the Everest Circuit. Sullen groups of 30, passing with not so much as a Namaste or a nod, jammed the pathways.
In Solo Khumbu, the Everest region, this land of the Sherpa people, we learned to circle Buddhist stupas, mound-shaped structures containing religious relics, in a clockwise direction and to recognize sanskrit Om signs carved into mani stones.
Five days in, near Lobuche village, we wandered in silent vigil among memorial stupas to climbers who had perished on Everest. Lobuche was as far as I went. The following morning, exhausted by 50 days of trekking, I chose to descend to Pheriche village with our porter, Khil, while Barry and Raj pursued one last challenge, the climb up the 5,644 metre Kala Pattar for a view of Everest. Together again for a late dinner, we decided it was time to head back to Kathmandu, then home.
Our trek southward was charged with discussions of future trekking routes and cultural areas to explore, little doubt in our minds we would return for more adventures among the people of the Himalayas.
If You Go
Recommended Trekking Companies
Ace the Himalaya: www.acethehimalaya.com
Apex the Asia Holiday: www.apextheasiaholidays.com
Kathmandu Hotels
Gaju Suite Hotel – Quiet hotel in the same building as Ace the Himalaya www.gajusuite.com
Thamel Eco Resort – Quiet hotel with secluded garden perfect for journal writing www.thamelecoresort.com
Travel Medicine – The doctor at your local Travel Medicine and Vaccination Centre can advise you about shots needed and pills for possible altitude sickness.
Nepal Visas – Visas can be purchased at the airport in Kathmandu with US cash. USD $40 for 30 days.
What You Should Know about Altitude Sickness:
Above 2,400 metres:
Keep daily vertical gain under 300 metres
Stop every third day for acclimatization
Ask a partner to check for symptoms daily: light-headedness, headaches, loss of appetite, rapid pulse, difficulty sleeping and fatigue.
Travel Insurance:
Do not neglect this vital purchase. BCAA has a good policy.
Trekking Accommodation: Most mid-range guest houses have two basic beds with foam mattress per room. Some have an ensuite toilet, squat or Western. Many without. Showers are solar and rarely hot.
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When not trekking in the Himalaya Patti Shales Lefkos loves living in the woods of Silver Star Mountain near Vernon, British Columbia, Canada where she skis, snowshoes, hikes and combats writer’s block by gazing out her office window at the antics of the Stellar Jays and squirrels eating her prayer flags.