Himalayan Adventures - Tilicho Lake

After a cold night in Braga, our group would split up temporarily. Tony and Jimmy decided to do a side trip to Tilicho Lake, while Helen and I spent a couple of extra acclimatization days in the town of Manang. On the morning that we left Braga, our group took the short walk to Manang. Although only an hour long, the thin air still made the walk mildly challenging. Tony and Jimmy refilled their water bottles and headed off. We would reconnect again two days later in the town of Yak Kharka.

Over the next two days, Helen and I spent hours chatting away in our sleeping bags or at the bakery down the street where we paid Western prices for delicious Italian coffee and freshly baked pastries. In these parts of the mountains, such things are considered a luxury. We took an acclimatization hike to a small lake close to Manang and handed out pens and stickers that Helen had been carrying with her at a small school just outside the main village. The children, with their snotty noses, were as cute as ever, showing off their ABCs and numbers in English. On day three, we left Manang early for a four hour hike to the town of Yak Kharka, where we would secure rooms at a guesthouse and reconnect with Tony and Jimmy.



The following is Tony's account of his three-day excursion to one of the world's highest lakes:

Visiting Tilicho Lake (or Tilicho Tal in Nepalese) is a highlight of trekking in the Annapurnas. This high altitude lake sits at the base of a melting glacier off Tilicho Peak and is literally a breath-taking climb. Most trekkers start the accent early in the morning from Manang and do a 2-3 day ambitious excursion to visit the lake and return to lower altitudes back in Manag or on to Yak Kharka. It is also possible to continue on from the lake via a sketchy lake trail and dump into Jonsom bypassing the Thorung La pass.

Our motley crew only made it to Braga the night before, approximately one hour before the bustling town of Manang. My Spaniard companion Jimmy and I had been tossing up the idea of climbing up to see the lake. Originally I hadn't planned to go there for timing reasons but the trek thus far was making good progress and so we thought why not.

I had already gone through one acclimatization in Upper Pisang the day before and suffered a migraine headache, but with adequate hydration, a good night's sleep and a diamox or two I'd be fine, it was really Jimmy's sprained ankle that was concerning. He was probably fitter than me, about 6ft tall, medium build and strong lungs but with a bad ankle and a heavy pack it was a gamble. Jimmy didn't want to discuss his ankle's condition much and was so passionate and stubborn about visiting the lake he convinced me to make preparations. The plan was to split off from the ladies in Manang and rendezvous in a few days further up the circuit at Yak Kharka.



I gleaned a bit of info off a German guide book in Braga that night, loosely translating that "Food is expensive and conditions are cold and cramped at the Tilicho basecamp." Armed with that knowledge, a good map and high spirits the group set off for Manang.

We arrived in Manang at 10 a.m. refilled water bottles at the safe drinking water station and stocked up on dried fruit, nuts and chocolate. I stopped in at the ACAP office to see if they had had any reports from the Tilicho base camp, but the simple reply was: "Ya, there many people here now." No chance of reserving a bed eh? Jealously leaving the ladies at a western style coffee shop Jimmy and I quickly set off through town and found the fork up to Tilicho valley.



Comfortably behind the packs of trekkers we got to an outpost with two competing guesthouses in the early afternoon for lunch, ordered a double of boiled potatoes and hard boiled eggs, some to eat immediately and the rest saved for next day's lunch.

Keeping a fast pace ever upwards, the barren flat tundra valley started to give way to steeper canyon like river valley which we were to follow all the way up to the lake. I imagined the ice cold lake water finding its way here to this now hot valley. Gradually we winded up to a small group of guesthouses near a hamlet called Kangshar and took a break. It was getting to be late in the afternoon and we still had a long way to go. I checked in with Jimmy, his ankle seemed to be holding up. An inquisitive Brit came upon us and was surprised to hear that we were going all the way to the Tilicho base camp. He urged us to press on, as the sun was low and warned that the terrain was about to change dramatically. Curious and anxious about the next leg we pushed off at quick pace.



The massive Annapurna I peak started to loom above as cold shadows chased up the valley floor. We rounded a sharp bend, crossed over a precarious foot bridge and paused to see the monster that awaited. Well above tree line we looked head on to a grey mountain face wrought with landslides and eerie rock formations caused by violent erosion. A narrow trail cut through what looked like impossible canyon terrain enveloped by shade. It was foreboding but beautiful. Jimmy and I paused silent to catch our breath and take in the route.

The impossible trail revealed itself as we weaved through the alien landscape. Huge pillars of rock jutted out of the landslides where the trail skirted through with rudimentary trail supports. It occurred to me that Julie probably wouldn't have liked this part of the hike, for any miss-step here would send you tumbling down a 500m landslide into a churning ice river below. Surprisingly the trail was not that physically challenging, but the loose footing around precarious drop-off's made for mentally exhausting trekking. Jimmy was still faring well in front of me using his hiking poles as a crutch at critical turns. I too was glad to have borrowed one of Julie's poles for significant added stability on the slope.



At dusk clouds set upon us and the landslide fields seemed endless as exhaustion set in. One foot in front of the other we reached a final bend and could see the lights of Tilicho basecamp in the distance. At this point even with hat, scarf and gloves I was getting cold and was thankful to see smoke coming out of the chimney.

Clearly being the last trekkers to arrive that day we had no choice of sleeping arrangements. Jimmy was assigned to an empty bed in a Spanish group's room and I was placed in the last bed at basecamp with an older Austrian group. I was thankful for the bed, but one stingy Austrian was making a fuss that he had to share his group's room with me. I was quite taken aback by this gesture, as back home in North America you would never contest accommodating a fellow trekker at these altitudes. This was no club-med resort in the Alps man, this was base camp at 4000m (13,000 ft)!



Eventually the Austrian settled down and I went to have a hot noodle soup for dinner. There were a few familiar faces in the dining area and we chatted excitedly about the next day's ascent before heading to bed.

I found sleeping at high altitudes was difficult. Early that morning I got up before the sun and strolled out under the clear cold night sky. My eyes still adjusting I gazed upon the magnificent Annapurna I jutting into the starry sky, illuminated by a setting moon. The icy cold breeze was cutting, but the scene before was majestic. Only pausing briefly before heading back to the camp I meditated on the upcoming day.

We set off as soon as the sun's warming rays entered the camp. Jimmy was very sore from the previous day but insisted that we attempt the lake today. It was a blue-bird sky morning hike that started by following a melting ice river out of the camp's valley and ascending steadily. Jimmy's grimace worsened as we neared the top of the steep high lake basin. I took his day pack and we hobbled over the last stretch of trail to the lake's edge. The air was very cold and thin, however a complete lack of wind and strong sun overhead made for a perfect climbing climate. The lack of oxygen at this point was very apparent, we ran across a young Swede who was returning from the lake with an acute headache and dizziness. I invited him to sit with us for a moment to gather senses. At 5000m (16,400 ft.) this was by far the highest I'd ever been, and it was definitely a new surreal sensation for me.



We crumbled at the edge of the Tilicho Lake and gathered our breaths. My thoughts were moving slow, but soon the beautiful turquoise lake filled our gaze. A huge melting glacier snaked down the side of Tilicho peak and into the barren lake basin. There is a small plaque near the shoreline shrouded in Tibetan prayer flags declaring Tilicho Tal to be the highest lake in the world but I have since heard with global warming on the rise, new lakes now exist at even higher altitudes.



For the first time the peak of Annapurna I seemed within reach. Up till now it seemed larger-than-life, but from here I could actually pick out some kind of navigatable route to the peak. Ahh, this must be summit fever at work. The stillness was suddenly interrupted by a deep rumble above; an ice fall started on the north face of Annapurna I, and a thick white avalanche cloud came plummeting down the mountain. We were in no immediate danger but as the Annapurna peak beckoned I started to really appreciate the risks of high altitude climbing.



I checked in with Jimmy over a simple lunch of hard boiled eggs and potatoes. He was in bad shape, I knew he could get back down to base camp, but I was concerned we wouldn't meet up with the girls on time. Clouds started appearing overhead signaling us to get a move on back down to base camp. Jimmy downed an IB profuen and we set off at a slow pace. A few groups of people passed us, but generally there weren't many people at the lake that day. Some folks were headed over the lake basin and down the other side, but they had proper camping equipment, and some even with porters.



We got back to basecamp in decent time, and Jimmy actually fared better than I thought with the downhill. I proposed we stay at basecamp and not head down the valley further to where we had planned to spend the night, but after inquiring at the camp, there were no more available beds. They offered us a tent accommodation, but upon inspection the smell of sherpa funk and broken zippers urged us to press on and hope to make it to Kangshar by dark. Going back through the landslides and canyon formations again was daunting but we fared well, admiring the new views on the way back down.

We arrived Kangshar by dusk, and checked into a nice clean room for the night. Sleeping at the lower altitude was comfortable and both of us managed to sleep in the following morning. We emerged from the room to another glorious day, and as we had our morning porridge the last remaining group set off leaving Jimmy and I in solitude with the Guesthouse manager.



Jimmy's ankle still hurt, but was manageable. I knew he needed to rest on it, but we were pressed to rendezvous with the girls (no cell phones here). We eventually set off at slow pace that morning walking through lazy pastures that reminded me of the Scottish highlands. Finding a spur in the trail that took us over to the neighboring valley we passed through an eerie deserted outpost ranch with wild Yaks roaming around. We took a break around midday on a gentle ridge affording expansive views of the two valleys. After snacking some dried fruit and nuts we catnapped in the warm sun whilst giant Himalayan eagles soared past us riding the thermal updrafts. I stared up as they gained height and felt the serene eyes of Buddha looking down upon us as we rested in the peaceful moment.



Coming down into the new valley we crossed into greener and livelier terrain. We noted some scattered rare blue tailed deer, birds and a roaring blue river through. Skirting down quickly we lost the trail for a bit and eventually rested up with a Tibetan refugee who lead us over the final bridge to Yak Kharka. Strolling into town comfortably as the oxygen rich air pumped through us again, we felt revival and triumph as we re-united with the girls.

Himalayan Adventures - Above Treeline

The morning of our departure from Upper Pisang, we made an early start, choosing not to have breakfast at our guesthouse. The guesthouse owner had warned us that without a guide, we would run into the same problem that we had in the Pisang area with accommodation. Guides have the advantage of being able to call ahead to reserve rooms for their clients. Thus began a crucial game of strategy to secure shelter for the night.

Our goal that day was to reach Manang, a large town, for a couple extra acclimatization days. There are two routes to Manang, an upper trail which would add an extra three hours to our hike and a lower trail. While doing my research related to the Annapurna Circuit, I discovered that the upper route to Manang would offer some of the best views of the entire circuit. It was cloudy that morning and we discussed whether it would be worth it to take the upper route should the clouds linger for the remainder of the day. In the end, we took the upper route. If the clouds lifted, we thought, we would be in for a treat!



As we set out for Manang, it looked like our early start wasn't so early after all. Taking the upper route from Upper Pisang, we could already see droves of hikers heading out on the lower route. They would reach Manang in no time. Even on the upper route, we were being overtaken by large groups of European tourists carrying small day packs. The rest of their luggage would be taken to Manang by porters via the lower route. I couldn't believe how large some of these groups were. We even met a group of 16 Dutch hikers! Surely their guides had already secured them rooms in Manang. It looked like we might have some trouble that night.



The trail from Upper Pisang to Ghyaru started gradually, giving us a view of the meandering valley below, but then quickly climbed through a long series of switchbacks that felt like it would never end. However, the clouds did lift as we had hoped and sure enough, the view was magnificent! No words or photographs can do justice to the beauty that we saw that day. As the peaks of Pisang Mountain and the Annapurnas were revealed by the parting clouds, I thought, this is what heaven must look like. On this day, we also left the forests behind, climbing higher above treeline into rocky, arid terrain. On this day too, I felt the effects of altitude hamper my breath and strength.

It is amazing what happens to your body in thin air. I had experienced shortness of breath in our earlier days, but not like this day. Even the tightness of the chest strap of my backpack made an enormous difference. I felt as if I had smoked an entire pack of Marlborough Reds before embarking on a monstrous climb. We overtook other hikers and they overtook us as we stopped for breaks. Tony softly encouraged me up when I felt like I couldn't go any further and sometimes reprimanded me for my occasional lack of hiking etiquette (i.e. stopping in the middle of the path while people directly behind tried to get past), but it was hard to think of others as I struggled up the mountain.



Finally, we reached a beautiful Tibetan Gompa in the town of Ghyaru at 3730m (12,237ft), the highest point we would reach that day. A large group of trekkers had also gathered there to rest and take photographs. We ran into our lovely Bavarian friend Charlie, smiling widely as always as he puffed on a cigarette.



Above treeline, the landscape, villages and people looked dramatically different. Unprotected houses made out of stone lined narrow alleyways of medieval looking villages. Without protection from the sun and wind, the villagers were much darker, with leathery skin weathered by the harsh elements. I imagined that most of the villagers were not as old as their aged bodies looked, but they were friendly nonetheless, with big, toothless smiles as they greeted us with "Namaste."



We decided not to eat in Ghyaru as there were way too many tourists and continued instead to the next town, Ngawal. We passed by Tibetan memorials, prayer wheels and inscribed tablets even more beautiful than those we had seen earlier in our hike. By now, the land looked almost desert like - brown, dry, sandy and dusty. As the wind beat down on us, we became almost completely covered in dust. At this point, I had also been asked about a dozen times whether I was Nepali and been stared at curiously by at least fifty guides and porters. I didn't mind too much since I think that Nepali people are gorgeous and the curious stares were still respectful.

It was already late afternoon by the time we reached Ngawal and knowing that the large crowds ahead of us were headed to Manang, we decided once again not to stop and eat. We still had a couple of biscuits and chocolates left to graze on. I had conversed with a guide earlier in the day that mentioned an alternate path that we could take directly to Bhraga, which would shorten the hike slightly. After examining our map, Tony confirmed that we could do it. We wouldn't have to enter the town of Humde to get to Bhraga. From Ngawal, the trail would decent steeply down past the Humde airport, which consisted of one of the shortest runways I've even seen, used only for emergencies. From there, it was a straight, level walk to Bhraga. Unfortunately, no other towns lay between the two and we still hadn't had a full breakfast or lunch. Hunger and exhaustion also brought the onset of altitude sickness. Tony's headache was getting worse and Jimmy's ankle continued to throb. Our group was in rough shape.

About an hour and a half from Bhraga, we found a small tea shop serving soft drinks and spring rolls. We took a break and discussed our plan for the night. From conversations we had along the way with other hikers, it looked like the large groups were headed for Manang while the small, independent groups of hikers were choosing to stay in Bhraga instead. We decided that one of us would have to go quickly ahead and secure a room in Bhraga. Strong-headed as he was, Jimmy decided that he would go despite his swollen ankle.



After a leisurely break, Tony, Helen and I finally mustered up the will to lift our heavy backpacks and meet Jimmy in Bhraga. We passed meadows of Yaks, which are kind of like furry bulls, the main animal life in these parts of the mountains. A half hour before Bhraga, we ran into the Polish trio that we had met in Upper Pisang in a small town that was not marked on our map. There was a single guesthouse in that town and they had decided to stay there for the night because they heard that Bhraga and Manang were busy. Silently, we crossed our fingers and prayed that Jimmy had succeeded in finding us a couple of rooms.



With little daylight left, we walked silently to Bhraga. There was no energy left in us even for speech. Tony didn't look good. He would have to take Diamox that evening. Helen still bounced around with positive spirit, but her exhaustion was also evident in her hunched over back. As for me, I felt the weight of my body and bag in my feet, trying to stay hopeful that I would soon be able to untie my shoelaces and recline fully in the warmth of my sleeping bag. When we arrived in Bhraga, Jimmy met us with a big smile on his face. You made it guys, he said, and we have a place to stay! We entered our room and collapsed on the bed. The day was finally over.

The Route:
Upper Pisang (3310m/10,859ft)
Ghyaru (3730m/12,237ft)
Ngawal (3680m/12,073ft)
Humde (3330m/10,925ft)
Bhraga (3450m/11,318ft)

Himalayan Adventures - Running out of Daylight

The morning we left Koto, the hotel owners made us a fire in the dining room where I led another mini yoga sequence to warm up our legs, backs and shoulders. We would break 3000m (9854ft) that day, taking us into the risk zone for altitude sickness. From here, the recommended daily ascent is 500m a day with one or two days at around 3500m (11,500ft) to acclimatise. For those of you considering this trek, please do some research on altitude sickness as few people still die each year on the circuit from this preventable illness. Stock up on Diamox either in your hometown or in Kathmandu. Diamox is a medicine that can help you acclimatise faster or to relieve minor symptoms of altitude sickness. Shops in the higher altitude villages tend to run out of the drug and you will likely run into some people that are suffering from the illness and do not have the drug on them. Having some extra pills may help you and others along the way (Diamox is also a diuretic so you'll need to use the toilet quite a bit).

Shortly after we left Koto, we reached the busy town of Chame. Chame is quite large and full of Internet cafes that don't really work because of the lack of electricity, but it's a good place to stop for medicine, winter clothes and other basic supplies should you need any. I personally recommend staying in Koto instead as it is close enough to Chame and much more peaceful.



In Chame we stopped to fill our water bottles, buy expensive cough drops for Tony and get bandages for Helen's blistered feet. The guys headed to the safe drinking water station while I accompanied Helen to the pharmacy. For the first time, I saw just how bad her blisters were and realized what a tough girl she really is. Both the balls of her feet were completely covered by extra skin a few millimeters thick that were slowly and painfully peeling off. Both her ankles had large blisters that hadn't popped. Helen's first aid solution was rather amusing - band aids where the blisters had popped under her feet, followed by bandages wrapped tightly around both feet, followed by socks and sanitary pads to make up for the lack of insoles! I would have just asked for a horse to take me back down the mountain.



After stocking up in Chame, we headed for the town of Bhratang. We ascended slowly, winding through fir and pine tree forests. It was a lovely hike and we found ourselves mostly alone. As we climbed higher the landscape of trees was ever so often interrupted by large, barren, rocky, majestic mountain faces. Although I was in really good hiking shape, the air was definitely getting thinner and I felt my body getting heavier. My backpack seemed to have oddly gained a pound or two as well even though I hadn't accumulated anything new. Thankfully, my companions were feeling the same and we decided to break for lunch in the town of Bhratang.

There were only two restaurants in Bhratang. We picked the empty restaurant, but no sooner had we ordered, a large group of Israelis with porters and guides arrived. They sat at the next table while their porters sat at ours, slumped over, exhausted. Many Israelis hike the circuit with porters who carry kitchen supplies for them. They often ask for their food to be cooked in the pots that they bring with them so they can adhere to their strict, kosher dietary requirements. This group in particular kept walking in and out of the kitchen and somehow managed to get their food before us even though we had all ordered fried macaroni, which shouldn't have taken long. Tired, hungry and annoyed, we waited for our food as the sun hid behind the mountains, bringing in the cold.



The hike from Bhratang to Dukhur Pokhari after lunch was exhausting. The Annapurna Trekking Profile estimated hat it would only take us an hour and a half, but the trail seemed to go on forever. We hiked mostly through the forest and crossed a few bridges. We were overtaken by a couple of large, French and Israeli groups along the way, which left us with an uneasy feeling that getting accommodation might be tough in the small town of Dukhur Pokhari. The guys went ahead of Helen and I to try to secure a couple of rooms. My feet ached with every step until we finally reached Dukhur Pokhari and I thought, thank goodness, I couldn't walk any further.



We were in for an unpleasant surprise however. Tony and Jimmy met us grim-faced. There were no rooms left. We would have to go to Upper Pisang, about an hour and a half away. It was already 5pm. The sun would set in a half hour. Flashlights in hand, we prepared for another hike under the stars. Thankfully, we found ourselves in a wide open valley. It was beautiful and we wouldn't have to worry about falling off a cliff in the dark. Adrenaline kicked in and we were at the base of a trail that led to Upper Pisang 45 minutes later. I was relieved to see the lights in the village, but we soon discovered that there were only three guesthouses in the village and they too were all full.

Surprisingly, we ran into Bernhard and Waltraud again! They said that they had arrived at 2pm and taken the last room. We told the guesthouse owner that we would sleep in the dining room if we had to. In the end, the owner let us stay in the room that he usually sleeps in - a tiny, filthy room with two Nepali-sized single beds. It was filthy, but we didn't have a choice. Tony and I squeezed into one of the beds, Helen took the other and Jimmy slept on the floor.



At the lodge, we met a group of Bulgarians whose one group member was already feeling the effects of Acute Mountain Sickness (AMS)and a Polish trio with a member that had come down with a stomach infection. We also met Charlie, an interesting Bavarian man who would keep popping up along the rest of our hike with his wild, curly hair and multicolored fleece.

We decided to stay an extra night in Upper Pisang. At 3310m (10,859ft) this would be a good place to acclimatise. During our acclimatisation day in the village Charlie helped Helen heal her blisters by sewing thread through them. Apparently, the needle pops the blister while the thread helps to dry it up. For anyone who may find themselves in this situation, the technique works! Helen's blisters healed quickly after that.

I also found out that the guesthouse owner had also lived in Malaysia for several years as a construction worker and spoke Malay better than he spoke English. Once again, I was able to overcome a cultural barrier by breaking a language barrier.



Tony and Jimmy took a side trip that day to Pisang Base Camp at 4380m (14,370ft) as an acclimatisation hike. Pisang Peak reaches an elevation of 6091m (19,983ft) and like most Himalayan peaks you need special permits to climb it, along with a team of porters and guides, and plenty of mountaineering experience. Even the most seasoned mountaineers have perished on these unforgiving slopes. The guys met Helen and I later that day at the Tibetan gompa (monestary) in Upper Pisang. Each morning and evening the Tibetan monks perform services that are open to everyone. The gompa was small, but the paintings and statues of Buddha were incredibly intricate and exquisite. Again, the combination of nature and culture is what makes the Annapurna Circuit a special hike.

One last note about accommodation - sanitation starts to deteriorate as you gain elevation. The rooms remain clean, but be prepared to brave some of the worst toilets you'll ever see from Upper Pisang onwards. Don't leave without your handsanitiser!

The route:
Koto (2640m/8661ft)
Chame (2710m/8891ft)
Bhratang (2850m/9350ft)
Dukhur Pokhari (3240m/10,629ft)
Upper Pisang (3310m/10,859ft)

Himalayan Adventures - Breaking the 2000m Mark

After an early breakfast in Dharapani, Jimmy, Helen, Tony and I gathered in the small room that Tony and I had slept in and I led a 20 minute yoga sequence to prepare us for another long day of hiking. On our way out of Dharapani, we registered at the Annapurna Conservation office where we were also treated to our first major view of the Annapurna mountain range. Today we would be breaking the 2000m mark, making our way into the bigger mountains.

We stopped by a safe drinking water station to fill up our water bottles. Along the Annapurna Circuit, several towns have set up safe drinking water stations where trekkers can fill up for Rp. 50 (less than a dollar) per liter. The stations were established as part of a New Zealand project to help villages make some money while minimizing the amount of plastic waste on the mountain. Plastic bottled water is still available, but at ridiculously high prices and are also not an environmentally friendly option. Where safe drinking water stations are not available, most trekkers fill up at public taps and treat the water with iodine or chlorine.



We started slowly, stopping often to take pictures. Jimmy had also sprained his ankle the day before when he ran back to Chamche to recover his money bag, which was thankfully still under the mattress where he had left it. Unfortunately, the rocky terrain the day before left us with another injured group member (the other being Helen with gigantic blisters on both feet). An hour after we started, we reached Bagarchap at an altitude of 2160m (7086ft), way past the tallest mountain in the Eastern United States and heading towards heights familiar to the Rocky Mountains (Western United States) and the European Alps. Here, we ran into Waltraud and Bernhard again, taking a break amongst the roaming chicken. They joined us for a good part of the hike that day.

At around noon, the trail crossed a river that was bathed in sunlight. We took a break on the river bank, enjoying the bag of chocolates that Helen brought with her. I have to hand it to the girl. She didn't have proper hiking shoes, medicine or a sleeping bag warm enough for high-attitude temperatures, but she had a huge bag of chocolates that powered us until the end of our journey in the Himalayas. Thanks Helen!!!!!



After the break at the river, the trail climbed steeply to the town of Danaqyu at 2200m (7217ft). From Danaqyu the trail split into two, giving hikers the option of taking a lower route (shorter and more gradual ascent) or an upper route (steeper, but with better views). We opted for the upper route through the town of Thanchowk at 2570m (8431ft). The trail left the river and ascended into a long series of switchbacks with a lot of donkey traffic. Caravans of donkeys carrying heavy packages slowed our progress as we had to step aside for them often.



The air became cooler and even short breaks required me to put on a fleece and windbreaker, but we were rewarded with magnificent views. As we climbed higher that day, the snow covered mountains came into full view, getting larger and becoming a permanent part of the surrounding landscape. Despite exhaustion, we wore large smiles on our faces. My heart lifted every time I stopped to admire the miracle before me.



Shortly after reaching the outskirts of Thanchowk, Waltraud and Bernhard realized that they still had a long way to go before reaching Chame, the next major town, so after exchanging e-mail addresses, they bid us goodbye. Most hikers choose to stay in larger villages with more amenities. So far, we had been following Wikitravel's advice to stay in smaller, quieter towns, which was working really well for us. Our destination that day would be Koto, a small village an hour before Chame. Having the luxury of a little more time and shorter distance to cover, we decided to stop in Thanchowk for lunch. We all ordered dhal bhat, which had gone up significantly in price, and a large pot of masala chai. When the pot arrived at the table, it was large enough to serve 10 people twice. Ugh, that's a lot of masala chai even if you love the damn thing. It was so hard to gauge serving sizes since they varied so much from restaurant to restaurant. We ate inside that afternoon. Being closer to the big mountains, the sun would disappear earlier behind the mammoth peaks. We finished our lunch quickly and eagerly began walking to warm up.



Between Thanchowk and Koto, we entered a forest thick with pine and fir. It was so peaceful. We didn't run into anyone else for the remainder of the hike that day. As the sun began to set, the mountains became illuminated with its last rays. We were walking west through an alpine forest so quiet that you could hear the trees whispering. Behind us Mount Manaslu, standing at 8162m (26,781ft), burnt a fiery orange from the setting sun while in front of us Annapurna II, with a height of 7937m (26,040ft), glowed whiter as the full moon came into view.

We stayed at Hotel Petunia at the end of town for free (the guesthouse owner said we could stay free of charge as long as we ate at her restaurant), where I gave up a hot shower despite the steam pouring out of the bathroom where my three trekking mates had enjoyed solar-heated water. After my experience the night before, I didn't want to get anywhere near water, plus the poor drainage in the bathroom left about an inch of soapy water that I didn't feel like stepping into.

That night, when the sun's rays had disappeared and the full moon was overhead, I felt like we were in a magical land. With the light of the full moon shining on Annapurna II, the planets twinkling above and no electricity in the village, I was really, truly happy.


The route:
Dharapani (1900m/6234ft)
Bagarchap (2160m/7086ft)
Danaqyu (2200m/7217ft)
Thanchowk (2570m/8431ft)
Koto (2640m/8661ft)