Honk When You Pass an Elephant ...

Or a bicycle, a goat, a scooter, a bus, a pedestrian, a taxi, a tuktuk, a tractor, a cow, or anything else you might find in the street. In the tiny tourist town of Chitwan, it was kind of helpful to know who was passing. But in Kathmandu, that rule leads to non-stop honking beeps, honks, and screeches. 

We are back in Kathmandu after our quick trip to the jungle, and I have to say, the city is growing on me. For one thing, it is much cooler and drier than Chitwan.  Also, the chaos is starting to sort itself out in my brain, making it easier to see the individual parts. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me tell you about the jungle.

It was hot. And humid. At one point, my thermometer said that it was 94 degrees with 74% humidity, which means the dew point was 84 degrees. Which explained why I thought I was going to die. We had a fan in our room - when the power was running. And we had a bathtub. I spent a lot of quality time in a cold tub, watching tv on my iPad. According to the signs, we could have gotten a room with A/C, but ours was broken. And I don't think I could have turned it on, knowing it was running off a generator. Fans run on the generator too, but take a lot less power.

But the animals were amazing. The first morning we piled into a dugout canoe with another group, which was poled down the river. We saw all sorts of birds and water plants. Then we climbed out to briskly follow our guide through the grasses and along the river bank, looking for animals. We didn't see much at first. But after our guide stopped to talk to a group crossing the river on elephant, he motioned us ahead, stopping abruptly to look down the embankment. We peered down, and there was a rhino, sleeping in the river, not 20 feet away. That seemed safe enough, until our guide startled it awake. Meg got the best picture as we very quickly followed our guide away! Right to a pair of fresh water crocodiles. We ended the excursion at the elephant breeding center, where we got to see the 8 day old elephant. 

We got back from the walk just before elephant bathing time. Meg got to climb aboard an elephant and get sprayed with river water - over, and over, and over again. I got good pictures, and she got very wet, if not clean. 

Our last adventure of the day was the elephant ride. We didn't ride them for comfort, but for the wildlife viewing possibilities. Other animals don't get scared when elephants walk by. So they load foreigners up, four to an elephant, and meander through the jungle. The "saddle" is a square platform with a 2' height railing. Each person sat at a corner with legs hanging down. I did feel secure, even when going up hills when my body seemed to be suspended 10' above the ground. But I have bruises from that railing. 

It was charming to spot animals sleeping on the undergrowth, though mostly deer. A couple monkeys scampered by. A couple male peacocks strutted by, though I didn't get good pictures through the undergrowth. But the best thing was arriving in a clearing to see four rhinos. We got great views of them (including many rhino butt pictures) and also of the view of six elephants full of tourists next to four rhinos. 

I forgot to mention that we didn't have to share the elephant ride with total strangers. We pulledmupmthe the elephant area and spotted our new friends Ann and Mike, from California. We hadn't seen them since Lukla. Small world. It was great to see them, and to share the elephant adventure with them. 

The last adventure in Chitwan came overnight. Around 1 am, the sky opened up. I don't know how much rain fell in the next couple hours (it was far too dark to see) but I wouldn't be surprised if it was 4 or 5 inches. That whole town floods during the monsoon, and this was a pretty clear indicator that the monsoon season had indeed arrived a bit early this year. 

So now we are back in Kathmandu, packing, shopping, and enjoying our last few hours before starting the long journey home! We should arrive in Minnesota on Wednesday evening, local time. See you all soon. 

Extremes

The traditional end to an Everest Base Camp trek is a celebratory dinner. I didn't think we'd be doing that, since we were not part of a group. But lo and behold, Thursday night we had eight new and not-so-new friends at dinner, and we had a raucous time. After a frustrating day of waiting, new plans, and still more waiting, people were ready to let loose. We had a couple from Ireland, another from England, one from Olympia, Washington, and us. It was good. 

Friday was a most magical morning, starting when I woke up and saw blue sky. I ran over to the airport, where I saw the first plane of the day land, and then the second. I stayed glued to the planes and helicopters all morning, keeping our friends company as they waited, until Meg called me to say it was time for us to go too! Then I was restricted to the terminal, not as good a vantage point, as we waited with increasing apprehension to see if the planes would keep coming long enough to collect us. And they did. 

Kathmandu is still noisy, but not so overwhelming. It was a little cooler this time, and the traffic was a little less intense. But perhaps our time in the Nepali villages gave us a little more familiarity with how things work here. So we walked the streets Friday night, finding an excellent Indian dinner, and scoping out the bus stop for morning. There was a full moon over the city, which perhaps explains the night we had. In a word, noisy. Worse than the Dehli airport. People partying, packs of barking dogs, and a tour group yelling to each at all hours. 

So this morning we escaped Kathmandu. Meg got us tickets on the Rainbow bus to Chitwan. Because of our delay, we'd only get one day in the jungle, but that seemed better than three extra days in the city. And it was marvelous to see another part of Nepal. I took dozens of pictures as the bus traveled through the city, the suburbs, and then the rural communities. Of course, that made me carsick, so I had to stop taking pictures. But we saw another huge terrain change as we traveled through the mountains and down a major river valley to the jungle. 

And this is definitely the jungle. Just sitting still I am sweating buckets, which makes me pretty whiney. But our room faces a lovely garden with exotic birds, mangos, and a little frog that hopped by. We took a walk along the river and saw a troop of monkeys in thie distance.  Tomorrow we take a canoe ride in the morning, watch elephant bathing midday, and ride the elephants to see wildlife in the afternoon. One more night, and we go back to the cooler, drier air of Kathmandu.

It is very hard to believe that just 30 hours ago I was in the Himalayas, wearing my down coat!

Power by Meg

Where does the power come from? What is the carbon footprint?

These are frequent questions in our lives back home and some of you may be interested to know how they are answered up here. 

Even in Kathmandu energy is scarcer and more precious than it is in the US.  A hotel room with a hot shower is more expensive than one without and the cheaper of our two hotels had 8 hours of scheduled power outage every day.  There was a tidy chart posted by the front desk so you'd know when to expect power that day.  

As you go up the mountain power becomes more and more expensive and less and less common.  Many things you see only in the homes of ardent environmentalists at home are commonplace here- simply because they help people save money and have things they could't otherwise have.   For example I don't think we've seen any bulbs that weren't compact florescent, and huge black water containers warming water on roofs are commonplace, frequently accompanied by solar hot water heaters.  As we got higher, many  hotels had solar water heaters out front, big shiny aluminum contraptions that boil a pot of water when the sun is out.   Once the water is boiled, it goes into big thermos' wher it stays hot for hours till someone orders tea.  

A few of the larger towns have hydro-electric plants and power lines but everywhere else the power comes from solar panels and propane tanks.  Some of the solar panels come up via helicopter or porter, but many are made in China and are carried over the mountains through Tibet on yaks.  You pay by the hour for charging your phone or camera and one lodge owner reminded us that we should do any charging we needed while the sun was out.   

Despite the near freezing weather, hotel rooms are not heated.  You warm yourself In the main room of the lodge in the evening  over a heater that might use wood, electricity, propane or yak dung, then dive into your sleeping bag.   Even the yak dung has a cost.  If it is on your fire, it is not fertilizing your fields.   

As a result of all these factors people here use a fraction of the power most people in the US do.  It really makes you think about what human beings really need.   

Lukla

As I've mentioned before, flying into the Lukla airport is a tich dangerous. Pilots must fly by sight, not instruments, so if it is bad weather, they don't do it. And I am glad. Although now we are once again getting the full experience - enforced idleness in Lukla, waiting for the weather to clear. 

It was tempting to figure that once we left Namche, our trek was over. But that was far from true. First of all, it was still a long walk! We broke the trip into two days. Going down the Namche Hill was very slow for us.  The long incline into Lukla at the end of the second day was actually much easier. Going down takes a lot of muscle. Going up just takes cardiovascular work. Regardless, we were both very happy to pull into Lukla around 10:30 on Wednesday. 

The area around Lukla is lush. It reminds me a lot of the cloud forest in Costa Rica. It is cool but wet, with moss growing on the rock walls, and flowering crops in the fields. It is very humid. Sometimes the town is just enveloped by a cloud, while other times the mist turns to actual rain. The weather is more typical of the monsoon season, when moist air is forced up by the Himalayas, precipitating out before continuing to dry Tibet. 

We planned five days at the end of our trek before our international flight, knowing the people occasionally get stuck here in Lukla. If we got out right away, we planned to visit the jungle, Chitwan National Park. Well, it looks like we will be lucky to make it out in those five days. Desperation is running pretty high around here, with discussions of helicopters, hiking two strenuous days to a 14 hour jeep ride, or hiking six days to Jiri.  We optimistically reported to the airport at 6 am this morning, since we were booked on the second plane, a very good spot. They didn't even open the gate into the airport until after seven. We finally gave up at 10. This afternoon our incredibly helpful lodge owner (Sunrise Lodge) will rebook us for tomorrow, and we will try again, along with those who have been waiting days and those who have just arrived. 

It is a very strange world here in Lukla. All the tourists just want to get out. The Nepalis seem almost as anxious for all of us to be gone, leaving them to the off-season quiet. And yet, Meg and I have opted to slow down, and remember we have time. Once we get away from the frantic talk of plans, we remember that we are surrounded by mountains (even if we can't see them), forest, intriguing culture, and tons of people to talk to.

We also have amazing luxeries. Our room has an attached bathroom where I was able to take an almost-shower, with a real towel! The terry felt so good scrubbing my skin. The bakery served us a delicious pizza followed by a killer piece of chocolate cake. Our room is huge and the blankets are thick. Today we bought a whole jar of peanut butter and ate 1/3 of it for lunch. It was SO good. We took some small hikes around town, enjoying the stonework, the birds, plus the bovines, dogs, and chickens in the "road". And we continue to enjoy our many new friends, some who feel like old friends by now. 

So send cloud-clearing thoughts our way, but in the meantime, we are snug and happy in Lukla. 

Culture Shock

Saturday, Sunday, and Monday 

Going up takes a lot of time, tiny steps, and plenty of perserverence. It turns out that coming down is very different. 

We left Lobuche on Saturday morning, nine days after we started trekking, and six days after leaving Namche Bazaar. It took us a mere two days to get all the way back to Namche. 

Saturday we found that we could really stride out for the first time in days as the path sloped gradually down along the glacial valley. Even the first hills went about twice as fast as on the way up. By four pm we pulled into Deboche, a little more than 3,000 feet lower than Lobuche. I was exhausted. It required very different muscles to go downhill than up, and we expected to move faster. 

Saturday night we stayed at the Rivendell Lodge in Deboche. Yes, it was indeed named after Lord of the Rings. It was nice. There were rules, like leaving shoes outside our rooms. But there were also hot towels before dinner. It was hard to clean only our faces! And there were amusing guests. A large group came in at dinner time, and I started talking to a woman from Montana. It turns out that she is the head doctor at the Base Camp medical clinic, Lulu. She was going up with a filming crew from Sydney 60 minutes. In the morning we watched her test the heart rate and blood oxygen of a fellow trekker and a Sherpa. Perhaps we can see the result on camera one day. 

Sunday was easier for me. We hurried down the huge Tengboche hill, trying to stay ahead of a yak train we had carefully passed. After a cup of hot chocolate in Phunki Tenga, we started up the hill on the other side of the river. I had been dreading going back up that hill, so I was pleasantly surprised. We took it very slowly and I loved every minute of it. My muscles, heart and lungs were happy with the slow pace - no faster than before. And my senses were delighted by the rocky trail, actual trees, birds, and of course the views. Meg was not as fond of the endless climb as me. 

Still, we were both very glad to finally reach our hotel in Namche. The first thing I saw in our new room was an outlet. Electricity free for the taking! I felt like I had won a jackpot. There is indoor running water here too, so we set to work washing clothes and hanging them out our window. I washed my hair in the sink, and did a pretty good sponge bath. It was so warm that I didn't even get too chilled from bathing.

And then we settled in to luxury and resting. Internet. Naps. Bakery. Shopping. Real showers with hot water. A warm dining room that is not smoky or smelling of gas. Warm enough at night that we don't need a hot water bottle. 

We were lounging in our room when I heard a familiar voice - it was our friend Genieve from Australia who we met in Dingboche. She got sick and came down early, which was bad for her but good for us. She's delightful. So we've had company too. And the second night we ran into even more friends from the hill. 

Tuesday we leave for Lukla, breaking the trip into two easy days instead of one long one. The last bit is another uphill - with giant steps. So a few challenges still await us!

Everest, Crossroads of the world - Meg

When we left on this trek, I knew I would meet people from Nepal, but I had no idea how much of the rest of the world gathered here.  The trail to Everest base camp is also the main road to many villages  so of course we've met many people from Nepal as they walk to and from school, home from a shopping trip down the mountain,  along the trail to the next village to visit, babies and toddlers in tow or haul loads of just about everything up the mountain.  At first we were surprised to be passed by porters hauling eggs, hay, toilet paper, plywood or even bottled water, but soon we realized that anything that wasn't grown up here had to come up by porter, yak or helicopter and most of it comes via porter.   

But even though the majority of the people we've met are from Nepal, we've also met people from most of the rest of the world.  One of the first days we hiked for almost an hour with a young man from Tibet, who slipped across the border to India in search of a better education.  Now his parents are aging and he'd like to return, but cannot get a visa and the consequences of getting caught trying to re-enter illegally are severe.  Later the same day we walked with a large group from India, here to support their team in an Everest summit bid.  There seem to be Australians around every bend in the trail, and people from the UK and US are also common.   Our list of home countries also includes; Singapore, South Korea, Taiwan, Hong Kong, Switzerland, France, Austria, Poland, Sweden and Canada.  Some of these people we've seen once and never encountered again, others we greet like long lost friends when we encounter them on the trail or in a lodge, trading stories of where we've been and what we've done and writing e- mail addresses on napkins and scraps of paper.  I'm always especially glad to see our young friends coming down the trail safe and sound.  Turns out I am still someone's mother even this far from home and need to be assured that all these adventurous and interesting young adults make it home to continue with the next phase of their lives.   

              

Toilets and Showers

A lot of people told me that they wouldn't want to take this trek because of the toilets. I said I'd be fine with the toilets, but that I was worried about the bathing facilities. So I thought I'd devote a whole blog entry to toilets and showers. You can decide if you'd be OK with these facilities, or even if you want to read this post. 

Actually, I had no idea that bodily functions would be such a huge part of this trip. We had to do lots of hydrating to combat altitude problems, and that is naturally followed by, you guessed it, de-hydrating. So that, combined with the gastrointestinal difficulties that are so common up here, and you begin to understand why toileting facilities turned out to be a big part of our trek. 

The trip started with some of the most amazing toilets I've ever seen - in the Minneapolis Saint Paul airport. They were clean, large, and beautiful, with lots of marble and an electronic display at the entrance listing wait time. Perhaps a little over the top? 

The toilets in the Chicago airport were some of the strangest i've ever seen. They were western style, but the toilet was wrapped in plastic, which was changed to new plastic at a touch of a button. 

We encountered our first squat toilets at the Kathmandu airport, domestic terminal. We spent five hours there, so I was grateful for them - they did the job. A Minnesota friend of mine told me once that she prefers public squat toilets - she thinks they are more hygienic than the seat style. These were a bit dirty. There was a bucket for toilet paper (bring your own) and a pitcher to sluice the toilet when you were done. 

Our hotel in Kathmandu had at attached bathroom, but the shower resembled those we saw in Cambodia. The shower was along one wall, and using it made the whole room wet. But again, it was fairly warm, so we were delighted. We even had power and outlets in that room, but they only worked sporadically - several hours on, and several hours off. 

Finding toilet facilities on the trail out of Lukla was a bit of a challenge, especially at first, when we didn't always recognize them. And since we were trying to drink a lot of water, we needed them pretty quickly. But soon we saw a building marked toilet, and gratefully checked it out. It was a small building on a slope. There was a hole in the floor and a mound of leaves. That's it. Very biodegradable. I liked the simplicity. 

We paid an extra 300 rupees our first night on the trail for an attached bathroom, including hot showers from solar heat. Notice that I've managed some sort of hot shower every day so far? Again the shower got the whole room wet, but that was OK. Still western toilets. 

Our hotel in Namche was very nice, but the shared toilets were in small stalls, with a sink in the hallway. We paid 300 rupees (about $4) each for hot showers. Heavenly, but expensive. 

Along the trail we continue to find those simple outhouses, with just a hole in the floor and some native material stacked at hand. I don't mind them, although I did find pine needles in my undies the other day!

It took me while to figure out what to do when there was no toilet building. Eventually I noticed small paths leading off the main trail. They are the equivalent of going behind a tree, although the amount of actual privacy varies. Still, most people have learned to avert their eyes in those locations. I've learned to carry a small plastic bag so I can carry out my trash, though others are not so considerate. 

Our lodge in the tiny hilltop monestary community of Tengboche was one of my least favorite. The small bathroom at the end of the hallway had a squat toilet, a bucket for paper (of course not provided), and two bins of water. One was to "flush" the toilet. The other had a spigot and sink to wash hands. Not bad, though hard for bathing. I managed after a fashion, despite the cold wind whistling though the broken window and cracks in the walls. Oh, I guess there was some paper provided. There was an old paperback book, which was clearly being used, one page at a time. 

Down in Deboche, the only running water was in the kitchen, but the bathrooms had larger barrels of water and Western style toilets. I do like to sit down to do my business on occasion, so that was a welcome change. Without running water, it is necessary to pour pitchers of water in until it "flushes". I bathed right over the bowl, figuring it could also drain my soapy water. I was cold when I was done, but clean! We could have paid 400 rupees ( about $5) for hot showers, but I am cheap!

The situation got more rustic at our next stop, Dingboche, at 4,400 meters, or just under 14,000 feet. The toilet was the same, a western seat with a water barrel and scoop to flush it, but it was outside. So if we needed to pee in the night we had to walk outside about 30 feet, through the fridgid wind. So I begged a discarded water bottle from a fellow hiker and set out our female funnel. Have I given you more details than you wanted yet? I was grateful we had brought it. Bathing the first day was a very sketchy wet wash cloth, but the next day we washed hair in the yard. It felt so good to be clean!

It turns out that above about 5,000 meters I really lower my washing standards. It's too cold to sweat as much, and washing in ice cold water when the air temperature is below 40 degrees is just not fun. But then Meg came up with a brilliant plan. We had already been ordering a pot of water with dinner. We'd each have tea, then pour the remainder in our metal water bottle, to warm up our toes in our sleeping bags. But then she realized that the water was still lukewarm in the morning - perfect for a wash. I'm amazed at how much cleaning can be done with half a bottle of warm water. 

So that's it. We're headed down now, so I don't think we will encounter much else. We are creatively clean and healthy, so now I know that I was right - I could handle all the toilets as long as I have some way to get clean every day.  I'm just more flexible about how I do that than I expected. Perhaps you would be too!

Thin Air

Thursday and Friday

Every time we move higher, the terrain changes. It's stunning. 

Thursday we woke to a heavy cloud over everything. But we felt good, and ready to move on, so we packed up and left Dingboche, 14,000 feet. 

For the first couple hours we hiked along the side of a mountain - I think. With the heavy mist/cloud, it was hard to be sure what we were missing. But the mist had its own other wold beauty. Thukla, the half way point, was larger than I expected, and we stopped for a snack. We met a group consisting of two families, each with a 14 year old and a 16 year old plus parents. They were down to a ragtag 5 members, but the girls were delightful. Right out of Dugla was another steep hill, and we leapfrogged with the girls the whole way. 

At the top were the memorials to fallen climbers. It's kind of erie but also kind of wonderful. We found the memorial to Scott Fisher, who died in 1996, and the one for the Canadian woman who died last year. Many were in languages I couldn't read. 

Another hour or two in the bed of an old glacier and we reached Locuche. It is always astonishing, and usually a huge relief, when a turn in the trail reveals the roofs of a settlement. We chose Mother Earth House, where for the lofty price of 500 rupees (about $6) per night we got real mattresses. After the 1/2 foam from Dingboche, it felt great. But sleep was still hard to come by. At 16,000 feet, it was getting harder to breathe. And colder. The thermometer said it was 43 degrees in our room, but in the after-hiking chill that felt COLD.

After settling in, I left Meg in the dining room and hiked up alone up the valley to see the Italian research station. They have this gorgeous pyramid, covered with solar panels. On my way back, I stopped to just sit on a rock. The edge of the glacial valley was so quiet. Clouds still obscured most of the mountains, but I got the occasional view. 

Friday also dawned cloudy, which was disappointing since we planned to go higher and get our views of Everest. Meg wasn't feeling so well either. We decided to take day packs up to Gorek Shep. If it was still cloudy, we'd come back, grab our gear and head lower. 

I loved the hike. First was more of the glacial valley, a gentle ascent. Then we climbed a hill and the way got rockier and rockier. We turned a corner, looked down, and there was an actual active valley glacier. I've seen plenty of glacial valleys, but never one still filled with ice. The top layer was dirty, but there were big holes where we could see the aqua tinge of the ice and some were filled with water like mini lakes. Other places there were hundreds of strange ice mounds. I was in awe. 

But we were still not to Gorek Shep, the highest settlement. Meg was getting very tired - she said that if she had her sleeping bag, she'd curl up right there on the trail. She didn't. Fortunately, Gorek Shep really was only five minutes away, and we lost no time in settling in the sunny common room of the first lodge. As we ate our fried veg noodles and soup (delicious), the clouds started to break up. I decided that I really did want to climb Kala Patar, the nearby peak with the good views. But I wasn't willing to take Meg. She agreed to wait for me. 

The first part of the hill went fast. It felt good to go exactly my pace. It looked like I might be there quick. But the trail went up. It got rockier, and steeper and it was harder to get my breath. Eventually I could see the flags at the top, but they weren't getting closer very fast. There were many clouds, but every so often I could see the snow covered mountains, the darker Everest, glaciers, and even catch glimpses of Everest Base Camp. 

Finally I reached the top, marked by all the colorful prayer flags. 18,000 feet. On my own two feet. I didn't even need to have a view to feel very satisfied, but what a view I had! I quick tool pictures and video, including of me, and ate the Mars bar I'd been carrying since Namche. It felt even more special to have the whole place to myself. What a memory!

Next step: down. Back to creature comforts like enough oxygen, indoor running water, and some heat. 

Meg's Reflections - Good Sense Trumps Ambition

The trip from Lobuche to Gorek Shep was hard, to say the least. Lobuche sits at 16,175 feet and my body was not fond of the altitude. Sleep was more challenging than at any other time on the trip, and even going up one flight of stairs left me breathing hard. We left for Gorek Shep early, through blowing mists. We knew we were surrounded by snowy mountain peaks, but could not see them. With slow small steps we walked through the mist. Each time the trail headed uphill I had to fight for breath past the tightness in my chest. After more than an hour of slow trekking, we rounded the corner and the mist parted so we could see down to a huge glacier in the valley below. Most of it was covered in stones, but there were glimpses of deep blue ice. 

The last half hour to Gorek Shep was one of the hardest things I've ever done.  My head hurt.  My chest hurt from the constant effort to breath.  There were stunning views each time the mists blew aside for a moment but it was hard to appreciate them.  My world narrowed to a routine.  Walk four steps and stop to breathe. Walk another four steps and decide again not to give in to the fierce desire to lie down behind a boulder and go to sleep. Half an hour or 45 minutes and at least ten decisions not to lie down on the cold sharp gravel and we were there.   

At that point I knew my judgement was impaired and I decided to leave decisions in Toby's hands.  After several cups of tea and a bowl of soup, the sun came out and I thought perhaps I could go up Kala Pattar after all.  Toby didn't think so though, so in the end she climbed the peak while I sat in the lodge, drinking tea, watching the clouds blow past the mountains and talking with one of the lodge staff about his work and life.  I was disapointed and sad not to complete the final few hours of the trip,  but very happy to be warm and safe in the lodge and rested enough to get back to our lodge in Lobuche when she returned.   And I made it to Gorek Shep and back safely.  Not bad for someone's grey haired mother.