My legs feel
shaky under the altitude as I peer down at the sheer vertical drop of a several
hundred feet.
shaky under the altitude as I peer down at the sheer vertical drop of a several
hundred feet.
A hoarse,
cold wind descends from the peaks above.
cold wind descends from the peaks above.
Thin, grey
clouds rise against the turquoise blue sky.
clouds rise against the turquoise blue sky.
Sometimes
you would feel the crack of a thunder.
you would feel the crack of a thunder.
And
sometimes you would feel the pounding of the snow.
sometimes you would feel the pounding of the snow.
By the time,
I have reached the place where I stand now, incidents of turbulence and
tranquility haunt me.
I have reached the place where I stand now, incidents of turbulence and
tranquility haunt me.
The
fierceness of a snow blizzard.
fierceness of a snow blizzard.
The warmth
of the camp fire.
of the camp fire.
The
treachery of the unforgiving blue ice.
treachery of the unforgiving blue ice.
The slow
rumble of the mountain stream.
rumble of the mountain stream.
Sips of the
hot chang.
hot chang.
Isolation of
the lone tent.
the lone tent.
Endless,
rocky spires that seemed to rise from the bottom of the ocean.
rocky spires that seemed to rise from the bottom of the ocean.
And endless
meadows that were burnt yellow.
meadows that were burnt yellow.
A very
paradoxical world indeed. An experience through heaven. And the roasting of
hell.
paradoxical world indeed. An experience through heaven. And the roasting of
hell.
In the climb
of over 2 hours that stretched from the darkness of the night, into the light
of the early dawn, the white glow of Pandim and Kanchenjunga in the moonlit
night gave away to massive snow fields, icy cliffs and crystal heights that
blind the eyes. Those peaks that were pearly white have turned into fields of a
golden hue. The beauty is surreal, and even though I feel that I have lost all strength
to go further, it pulls me towards it.
of over 2 hours that stretched from the darkness of the night, into the light
of the early dawn, the white glow of Pandim and Kanchenjunga in the moonlit
night gave away to massive snow fields, icy cliffs and crystal heights that
blind the eyes. Those peaks that were pearly white have turned into fields of a
golden hue. The beauty is surreal, and even though I feel that I have lost all strength
to go further, it pulls me towards it.
Sometime
back I had argued that God does not exist. But this sheer beauty in the
calmness of things where everything is so turbulent makes me believe that I was
wrong. And, as I take another step closer to the pass,I feel like I am
marveling at the gateway to the mountain Gods – Goecha La.
back I had argued that God does not exist. But this sheer beauty in the
calmness of things where everything is so turbulent makes me believe that I was
wrong. And, as I take another step closer to the pass,I feel like I am
marveling at the gateway to the mountain Gods – Goecha La.
 |
| Goecha Peak with a trekker in the foreground |
I crouch under a fallen wooden log that is dripping wet with the rain. But it barely protects me. The rain continues to fall loud and clear against the dense forest growth and it brings with it a sharp chill. We had thought about the rain right from the morning, considering the unusually hot and humid mountain air, but back then, the clouds hung thick and heavy, refusing to come down.
I like the rain, prefer to watch it from a distance, but hate getting wet in it. Unfortunate, today I am left with no choice.
I crouch under a fallen wooden log that is dripping wet with the rain. But it barely protects me. The rain continues to fall loud and clear against the dense forest growth and it brings with it a sharp chill. We had thought about the rain right from the morning, considering the unusually hot and humid mountain air, but back then, the clouds hung thick and heavy, refusing to come down.
.jpg)
I like the rain, prefer to watch it from a distance, but hate getting wet in it. Unfortunate, today I am left with no choice.A few hours ago when we had started from Yuksom, it was hot. The sweat against the backpack would get dried cold. Sometimes I would rest against the trekking pole to beat the fatigue, which came a little too early. The walk was slow, boring. The tropical vegetation that filled up the mountains was interspaced with white magnolia blossoms. Primulas grow on the side of the track. Apart from that, it was mostly dirty and smelt of the yak dung that lay along the tracks.
Trekkers returning back taunted us, “It’s all the way downhill to Goecha La”.
And I would curse them with muted breathe.
If you heard bells, it belonged to the returning Dzos. A few of them would grunt and shake their heads violently in protest of going any further. The mules, in comparison appeared to be swifter. The horseman, who manned them needed to be far more agile than the yak men. All the porters, horsemen and yak men relied more on gumboots, rather than the mountain shoes, which we wore.
“If it rains here, then it is going to snow in Dzongri”, says Justin, my guide, who, like me, is also crouched under the log, waiting for the pouring rain to subside. The rain finally relents and we start the walk towards Tsokha.
The path towards Tsokha is high and harsh. Here the scene is somewhat rarer and more beautiful. I watch Justin march up ahead, whereas I rest for a while. There are rocky trails which mark the path. At places, the trail cuts through a patch of land with a row of Magnolias, which appear to glow in the evening light. The rain has also brought about a freshness and clarity to the air.
.jpg)
The legs are tired. True.
But, there a new zest to climb further.
The clouds have started to lift and there is a pleasant, warm light. In the mountains, darkness comes faster. The twilight seems to have spread all around, by the time I open a rickety, creaking gate of a trekkers’ hut in Tsokha.
Dawa, the cook, hands over me a kettle of tea and some biscuits. A table and chair has been laid out in the open and ahead of me is a view of the giant hills of Lampokhari. Mt Pandim pips over partially through them, deeply snowed and glistening in the dying evening light. A couple of horses graze in the valley below. There are racing clouds along some of the green hills. It is an awesome sight.
But the winds start blowing cold and there is every indication that it has snowed in the higher altitudes. Dinner is taken early at 7.30 PM. Plain rice, dal and an egg curry. It tastes delicious to the tired traveler.
.jpg) |
| Mt Jopuno |
A few hours ago when we had started from Yuksom, it was hot. The sweat against the backpack would get dried cold. Sometimes I would rest against the trekking pole to beat the fatigue, which came a little too early. The walk was slow, boring. The tropical vegetation that filled up the mountains was interspaced with white magnolia blossoms. Primulas grow on the side of the track. Apart from that, it was mostly dirty and smelt of the yak dung that lay along the tracks.
Trekkers returning back taunted us, “It’s all the way downhill to Goecha La”.
And I would curse them with muted breathe.
If you heard bells, it belonged to the returning Dzos. A few of them would grunt and shake their heads violently in protest of going any further. The mules, in comparison appeared to be swifter. The horseman, who manned them needed to be far more agile than the yak men. All the porters, horsemen and yak men relied more on gumboots, rather than the mountain shoes, which we wore.
“If it rains here, then it is going to snow in Dzongri”, says Justin, my guide, who, like me, is also crouched under the log, waiting for the pouring rain to subside. The rain finally relents and we start the walk towards Tsokha.
The path towards Tsokha is high and harsh. Here the scene is somewhat rarer and more beautiful. I watch Justin march up ahead, whereas I rest for a while. There are rocky trails which mark the path. At places, the trail cuts through a patch of land with a row of Magnolias, which appear to glow in the evening light. The rain has also brought about a freshness and clarity to the air.
The legs are tired. True.
But, there a new zest to climb further.
The clouds have started to lift and there is a pleasant, warm light. In the mountains, darkness comes faster. The twilight seems to have spread all around, by the time I open a rickety, creaking gate of a trekkers’ hut in Tsokha.
Dawa, the cook, hands over me a kettle of tea and some biscuits. A table and chair has been laid out in the open and ahead of me is a view of the giant hills of Lampokhari. Mt Pandim pips over partially through them, deeply snowed and glistening in the dying evening light. A couple of horses graze in the valley below. There are racing clouds along some of the green hills. It is an awesome sight.
But the winds start blowing cold and there is every indication that it has snowed in the higher altitudes. Dinner is taken early at 7.30 PM. Plain rice, dal and an egg curry. It tastes delicious to the tired traveler.
The first night in the tent and I had an intermittent sleep. The legs were hurting badly and it was difficult to change the sleeping orientation. But the -30C North Face sleeping bags were excellent to kill the cold. The morning is excellent – clear, crisp and the sun shines with full conviction.
From my breakfast point, I can see the Welsh couple, with whom I had interacted the previous day, pose beside the Chortens below. The horses and mules graze. The long blades of sunlight that pour through the clouds make it a pleasant slight. Everyone is getting ready to start the day. But the clouds rush in fast. Good weather in the hills is a rarity during the summer months. It’s the autumn season when weather is almost clear and predictable.
Tsokha is the last place from where you can get mobile connectivity. I make a call back home saying that I will call again after a week(almost). After the breakfast of toasts, eggs and tea, we resume the walk.
A little above Tsokha is the snow line. I find the going uber tough. My legs hurt me too much as I break the wooden pathways. These pathways have been designed to make the trek a little more easier.
Resting for a while makes me feel good. There is a deafening silence in each pause.
You can listen to the wind.
To the droplets of water that fall from the hanging icicles.
Even your own breathing.
And sometimes your own heartbeat.
The effect of altitude shows. The breaths are drawn and heavy. I munch off the cashew nuts that I have been carrying. Share some of them with Justin. Breaks are an excuse to rest.
The second day is another long one. Actually a lot tougher than the first. While from a distance standpoint it is lesser, but today involves climbing over the Deorali Top that lies at 13500+ ft.
At Phedang, a 2000ft gain from Tsokha lies a trekkers hut where we are supposed to have lunch. A little drizzle accompanies me as I enter the hut. Justin brings me a glass of tea, as I stand on the porch jostling for space with other folks. The drizzle, meanwhile, has turned into falling snow and later into a snow storm that hits hard on the ground..The wind blows strong on the open land and I can hear the gale like winds. In a moment, what seems to be not more than 5 mins, the burnt yellow grasses at Phedang have been moulded in the white snow. But in the next 15 mins the sun rises again and I can see the vapours rising from the snow.The outside is so cold, but the tea makes up it. It is the perfect antidote for the body.
 |
| Magnolias on the way |
After a simple lunch, we continue the climb. The gradient is staggering. I continue to climb, but the climb does not end. Sometimes, when I am able to see the overcast sky, beyond the last mountain edge, I feel that’s the top. But once I get to that top, I see that its only the end point of a ridge. Sometimes a determination comes over me. I go beyond my strength and literally race a few steps at one go but that is followed by a pause of heavy breathing. Not advisable. I set myself “short targets”. Like reach that next point 50 ft higher in the next 15 mins. Complete the short targets and you will end up closing up on the goal.
As I continue to rise, the mist starts to get thicker. The path climbs sheerly through the mountain sides and there are sharp drops beside the path. The visibility is low and extends to only a couple of meters ahead of me. The walk for the past hour has been through thinning vegetation and that is more pronounced now. And turn after turn, as we continue to rise, my mind seasoned by now not to think about the Deorali top – comes a flat piece of land, with a chorten and Buddhist prayer flags. Out of nowhere, when I had completed shut my mind to reaching the goal, comes the Deorali top. Its time to do a mini jig, sip some water, take a well-deserved rest and then descend to Dzongri,.
_LR.jpg) |
| Thansing Valley |
Trekking is about endurance. Not like a motorcycle racing down a road. That is good. And that is Bad.Good because you can enjoy the views and soak in the beauty. And bad, because it requires tremendous motivation to walk slow and hold steady. More so if you are solo like me. Hours will pass by, but the view would remain the same.
The descent from to Dzongri is almost flat. We have entered rhododendron country, but they are completely covered with fresh snow. Fluffy.
Walking through snow is easy.
Walking down the slope is easier.
Reaching the destination brings about a joy that nothing else can give.
.jpg) |
| Rocky Face of Pandim, as viewed from Lamuney in the evening |
And so, at around 3 in the afternoon, with feather soft snow falling across the Dzongri valley, I enter my tent. A kettle of hot orange juice is handed over which I sip and munch onto some cream biscuits. The valley has been carpeted in white and it doesn’t look like that the snow fall is going to stop anytime soon.
Time to dig myself into the sleeping bag and if possible get some sleep.
_LR.jpg) |
| Mt Thinchenkhan |
Outside the snow pelts hard on the tent. When I open the tent zipper, I see that the sky is dark and it looks ominous. The wind too has picked up strongly and resembles a blizzard now. The evening ends, night falls and it has become pitch dark outside. I hear the swaying bells and baying of the Dzos which are kept in the open. Justin comes to my tent and calls me for dinner. Grudgingly I eat and try to sleep later. But the sleep doesn’t come quickly.
It is 3.30 AM in the morning when Justin calls me.
Chae sir..Get up and be ready. We shall start by 4.
The sky has cleared out completely and the stars are twinkling and the moon is shining.
I gulp the tea quickly, take the camera bag and Justin holds the tripod. Brushing the teeth? Well that thought simply doesn’t come to my mind. It can be done once we come back. The pain in my legs is no more. But I feel groggy, waking with a very bad headache. The cold, frosty ground is the culprit.
So, at 4 AM in the morning, under the fast disappearing star lit sky, listening to the swaying bells of the Dzos and in the blistering cold of the sweeping winds I climb past the valley of Dzongri.
“Be careful sir. The ice is very slippery.”
The path is icy and completely snowed out.
It is a race against time to a high theater and the entry isn’t exactly costly – its priceless. I am walking along the path to reach Dzongri La, the top of Dzongri.
At the top, the sight knocks me off my still groggy senses. A thousand peaks seemed to surround this precious little perch(read pass), where the snow was soft and powdery. All the peaks – Kanchenjunga, Pandim,Thin Chen Khang, Jopuno, Black Kabru, the sweeping face of Mt Kabru, Rathong, Fork Peak, Frey Peak are glowing in the sun light. And even though, by now, I have witnessed a few golden sunrises, this sight looks domineering.
First they look orange and then golden and then they are burn into a bright white. Especially the wide face of Kabru which is glistening golden in the light.And then the light finally fell upon the pyramid like face of the Kanchenjunga.
_LR.jpg)
People armed with tripods, camera, rucksacks, flasks of tea and what not have come to watch this spectacle.High above the valleys and creeks, Dzongri La offers a commanding view of the geography around. Justin points me towards the valley over which we will walk tomorrow.
This was the perfect Himalayan symphony.
There are times in a journey, when you feel that “this is the moment” – and I was living that moment. The sweat and hardships of the past two days ,when I had felt a little lost, is bearing its fruit. Patience is a sweet thing. Its results are even sweeter.
A carnival seemed to be going on at the top.
But, in reality it was a moment of solitude.
One of immortality. Of realization.
I mutter a silent prayer, thank God that I have been fortunate enough to witness a grand spectacle such as this.
We climb down after a zillion photographs.
It is an experience to remember and thank you all that I got to relive it once again here at Team-BHP!
Later I go for a short snooze and wake up on hearing somebody beating the tent. When I look out, I see that the mists have rolled back in and it has started to snowing once again. Never mind, I go back to sleep. Today, we have time to kill, because today we rest at Dzongri.
.jpg)
During the walking days I had made a few friends. And I spent the better part of the evening chatting with them and enjoying sips of hot Chang, the millet brew that’s very common among guides and porters.
This is at the Dzongri Trekkers’ hut and Laxmi Maiyya is at its helm. She chants prayers and lights up some incense herbs in the evening as the snow shows no signs of abating. She stays here all the year round and is responsible for the upkeep of the hut. Her husband is responsible for the rations(thats what the guides told me).
Later, while getting back to my tent, I skid on the crusted ice and fell down. It sure hurts. I get up, my knees shaking and fell again as I take a couple of more steps.
‘Watch out”, says my friend.
I could have stayed at the trekkers hut. But there couldn’t have been a better way to experience tent life than this. After all, its only 7 days in a year that we have this wild, wild life! .I step gingerly onto the snow and walk back to my tent. Have dinner and go to sleep.
.jpg)
Today is a very bright, sunny day and the snow on the ground sparkles off the rays and dazzles my eyes. And I couldn’t have felt happier. The sun makes us all joyous. It’s a colourful contrast of colours. The yak men in their yellow gumboots. The shrubs green, partially or completely coated with snow. Snow on the ground. Bright coloured jackets of the trekkers. The water from the creek flows merrily. The snow has started to thaw.I have ginger tea in the morning and some roti and alu subzi for breakfast.The tents are being wound up. Everyone is preparing for a long walk over the hill tops to go to Thansing. Dzongri is a valley that is surrounded by mountain ridges along all its sides, which means from Dzongri itself, you won’t get a proper view of what lies beyond the mountains. One of the ridges leads towards Dzongri La, where we went yesterday. But today we will climb over a separate ridge.
The ascent is nothing spectacular. But, once I reach the top of the mountain, the sight is jaw dropping.At my rear is the Dzongri valley and further behind are blue hills, topped with snow. But it is what lies ahead that is of staggering beauty. A vast meadow of green and yellow shrubs, with mules grazing on it, extends till as far as the eyes can see. And it ends in black, rocky, endless spires and peaks that seem to rise from the bottom the ocean and pierce into the sky. The hooded face of Mt Jopuno lies in the center. Towards its left lies Thin Chen Khang and even more left lies the sweeping,broad face of Mt Pandim, our companion for the next 3 days. Skies so blue and clouds so thick and the sun so dazzling and the peaks magnanimous. A lone trekker stands at the edge of the meadow looking at the towering mountains, which makes us feel how small man is compared to the rest of the world. The peaks, cages of rock and ice, bask in the bright sunrays. I sip a drop from my water bottle and rest on the trekking pole, overlooking this powerful landscape.
.jpg)
Today is a gift. The story of incessant snow fall, overcast skies feels like a thing of the past. And it was this feeling of being denied that – NOW appears to be the moment. Three days…..For three days, we walked in pain, slept on a cold floor, woke up with a throbbing headache ..and just when things looked down, there comes a moment like this, which sweeps everything away. Only that it came after a long time.
Yet, I strongly feel that you can never, ever take out the journey from the destination. This is a much valued moment for me, and even though none of the photos that I clicked are a part of this travelogue(I lost most of them due to a hard disk crash as mentioned above), but it was a defining moment of the trek.
.jpg)
Beyond the Dzongri meadows, the snow has made the path very muddy. The entire day involves walking along rhododendron trees, which supposedly flower during May. And views of Pandim, that resembles the cone of an ice cream. There is Black Kabru, a 5500 m peak that rises sharply into the sky. It sees very little precipitation. The “black” comes from the colour of the rock.
.jpg)
The descent is steep and fast as we make way for the yaks and horses that are returning back from Goecha La. At Kokchurang, we cross a wooden bridge and continue to climb amidst rocks and snow and coniferous trees. But it is afternoon now and the clouds have started to rush in. The sea of rocks and boulders doesn’t end and the ascent again makes you realize the difficulty. Its slow, but we are not in a hurry. And finally, it is afternoon when I spot a trekkers hut, with a massive valley beyond it, in the foothills of Pandim. We have reached Thansing finally. In the evening there is slight precipitation, early dinner and then off to sleep.At the tent I realize that it was the best walk of my life and nature has been gracious!
Excepting for the winds that blow intermittently, everything in the morning lay silent and peaceful. The Thansing campsite marks the onset of a long valley bordered by mountains on its either side. Far ahead, as far as the eyes can see, lies sharp edged morraines, probably caused by years of wind and glacial erosion. And higher than that is an immensely steep wall of packed, blue ice. That wall blocks our vision and what lies beyond that is the unknown. The trail to Goecha La, cuts through this valley, rises sharply and then veers off towards the right and finally climbs right behind the Pandim.
The fifth day is a couple of hours walk over almost flat lands to Lamuney. The camp site at Lamuney was originally located at the Samiti Lake, but that was torn down by the Government due to fears of pollution caused by the trekkers. When we reach Lamuney it is almost afternoon and the clouds have started to rush in.
The weather had a strange consistency. Mornings were bright, sunny and skies were blue. Whereas the afternoons were humid, cloudy and dark. Sometimes, the evenings had precipitation in the form of rain or snow. And then, the nights used to be starkly clear.
After lunch, I sleep off in my tent and it is freezing when I wake up. A cold, frigid wind is blowing outside when I step out(of the tent). But, the sky is surprisingly clear and blue. The sun rays have started to “lift off” from the valley and there are traces of golden hue over the snow covered peaks now. A cup of tea in my one hand and the camera in the other, I wander till the sun disappears. At sometime in the evening Justin enters my tent.
When will you have your dinner sir?
When you wish to serve
7
Done.
I peep out of the tent after he leaves and see that moon light has filled the entire valley and Pandim is basking in its glow.Dinner is served in the tent that night. It is way too cold to head out in the open. In the cold, wearing the shoe is quite an exercise. The amount of lethargy is unthinkable.
I go off to sleep later and when I wake up
The snow pounds on my tent. It sounds like the rain on the tin sheds.
And the winds from the Northern edges hurtle down its surface. They create a fluttering sound.
And the cold earth has turned colder and frozen.Thick with snow. White.
But sometime back, everything lay warm.
You could hear the crackling of the burning wood.
They carried a few red, charred ashes that seem to flicker within the flames.
The night was still young and the moon shone on the valley.
The stars came out in the open and they left behind their trails on the view finder.
There were crescent mountain slopes that overlooked the valley.
Some silent.
Some stand out. Austere.
Others…unnamed.
But the moon looked so peaceful.
And so did the stars.They glittered.
Nature that conversed. But doesn’t utter a word.
And then, as everything lay quiet, I could see a thick wall of cloud, from the far end of Thansing that ripped apart the valley. They gathered fast and obscured everything in sight. The moon was gone, and it took the stars along with it. And they left behind a trail of wetness and cold and a sodden smell.Everything hung heavy and the snow continued to pour unabated.
In no time, it had turned into a crusade.
A crusade against the cold. The terrain. The ferocity of the mountain. The harshness of life.
A life that is primitive. But again one with so much depth in its meaning.
It is another early call that wakes me up. The watch dial glows in the darkness of the tent – 3.30 AM.
Justin has brought a plate of hot halwa.
Looking at my facial reaction to the halwa at such an unearthly hour, he says. “Sir you need to have this. It’s a very long day today. You won’t get any food until 9 – 9.30 AM”
Most of the men from the other tents had already started for the final climb. Some started as early as 2 o clock in the night.
I mop up the plate and very soon I find myself walking through the valley.
The full moon night makes the visibility of the surroundings better. The stars glitter in the clear sky. The snow from yesterday looks scattered and white. Up ahead, I can spot puddles of head lamps making their through the mountain. Some lie idle, giving into the extremely rarefied air. Whereas there are others that trudge their way up the mountain. The walk itself is cold and breathless. And the air is frosty. The wind is static. The Prek Chu gurgles somewhere below, on my left, hidden from view. We are treading into a territory where this river had probably originated.
By the time we reach the shores of the Samiti Lake, the darkness has started to give way to a clear pre-dawn sky. A couple of small streams emerge from the edges of the lake and disappear behind the mega structures of rock and ice. I pause and sip some water from the water bottle. But, the water has partially frozen cold into ice due to the exposure to the cold water bottle. If the walk till the Samiti Lake was difficult, then the walk further ahead looks daunting.It is a steady scramble over boulders as far as the eyes. It is the final climb and I ready myself for the last push.
“Go, go march ahead and beat the sun” shouts the voice inside my head.
Justin, too, eggs me on to proceed further.But what comes out is a whimper.
The rush of adrenaline seems to have been vanished and the blood in the veins seems to have frozen. For many, a trek to Goecha La might be a walk in the park. But for some like me, the difficulty is genuine. It depends on the physical fitness, experience and our physical reaction to high altitudes. And moments like these become overwhelming for the trekker. I see immobile figures gasping onto their breath, up ahead and cross quite a few of them as the race against the sun hots up.
The climb is illusionary – much like the other day. The top, which appears at the distance, is actually not the end. It is the prelude to a further, higher climb.
But wait. What do I see?
A contour of dark rocks resembling a wave, guards a view of ice-cream cone shaped peaks. The light and shadow of the peaks, a midst a dark blue sky is a wonder. See the pictures. Its 5.18 in the morning when I shoot my first photo.
.jpg)
To be a part of the phenomenon is an experience in itself. I had never seen the sun shine on peaks so near. These peaks, which are actually at a distance, are so massive and imposing that they appear to be at an arms length. Reaching the first view point is a little tricky – Of the sheer drop that I had mentioned in the first post. But beyond that it is bliss. Its heaven. And when I think about our country and its micro climates – It is hard to imagine, that when the plains of India are breathing fire, I am shivering in a cold that is freezing my senses. A prayer with some cashew nuts and chocolate that I was carrying is offered to the Gods.
The first view point is not the pass. You need to descend and then climb further to reach the second view point. It is the start of the ridge that leads to Goecha La. Permits of Goecha La are not issued normally. From a geographical standpoint, the Goecha La is the start of massive glacial zone dominated by the Talung and the Tonshyong systems. It ends at the Zemu gap, which is the watershed between the West and North Sikkim valleys. Previous expeditions to Kanchenjunga used to cross through North Sikkim. Even, when Nepal was closed for mountaineering expeditions, the Everest expedition parties used to travel to the Tibetan side of Everest by crossing the passes between Tibet and North Sikkim.
.jpg)
Epilogue:
I returned back to Kokchurang that day. And completed the Kokchurang to Yuksom journey the next day. Justin and the porters were happy about the extra day of rest (since ours’ last days walk is normally done in two days). Actually, a sense of urgency had developed and it took over me. I tend to believe that the monsters of difficulty are a state of the mind. And it was good that we overcame them.
Back at the Yuksom hotel I took a good bath of warm water for around an hour. Called back home. Had a lot of beer and an excellent meal of rice, chicken curry, dal and alu bhaja and a blissful sleep of over 10 hrs.it In short, it was a feast. Also, it was time to conclude this journey and plan for a new one. But now I hardly remember the difficulties. What remains are only the fascinating memories. Really, human memory is so short lived!
If you have jumped directly to this post and reading this, I would request you to read the entire log. And, if you have read the entire thread, then a special thanks to you!
