We had 15 days left before our flight back to the states, so we took all of the advice from travellers who had already been around the area. The Indian Himalayas and Langtang area of Nepal were high on our list, but we couldn't decide where to go. The monsoons were coming and changing flights plus getting an Indian visa is more complicated than quantum physics. So, we left it to the flip of a coin.... Nepal beat India.

But I couldn't make this too easy on myself, so I had a buffet of strange meat while there was no power in the city(which means no oven, but you can always cook with fire). Round 3 of stomach problems (The Kathmandu Quickstep, Delhi Belly, Montezuma's Revenge), this time with vomiting included. We either could take the long bus up and hike back to Kathmandu, or the short bus up to hike up to the mountains and ride the bus back. Mike graciously suggested the short bus first, and it would allow us to hike in the lowlands sooner so we might be able to miss the monsoons.

It was only 10km away, but the bus took 2 hours. I got the last seat in the back of the bus, next to a window(there were already stains down the side of the bus, so others had the same problem and thought the same thing). The only problem was the seats in the back were too small. I had my head out the window, but it was too small as well, so every big bump caused my head to bash into the side. I was airborn once a good 6-12 inches off the seat. We stopped to pick up more passengers and I couldn't take it any longer. I climbed out the window and onto the roof. The rest of the passengers thought this was hilarious, but the door guy yelled at me that I had to come back in. Apparently, only within the city limits is it taboo to be on top of the bus, once you are outside the city limits... no holds barred....

It didn't matter because we were stuck in traffic for 30 minutes because two buses couldn't get around each other and everyone piled in behind them to block the road. Watching guys stare at the buses with cigarettes to help them think was enough time for me to gain the strength to stand back in the bus(I had lost my seat and the bus was too full to get back to the back).

We had started late that day because it was supposed to be an easy day. It was 3pm by the time we arrived at the start of the trek, but I was so weak from vomiting I was walking at half my normal speed. There were no lodges once we got into the Shivapuri National Wildlife Watershed, which was only 30 minutes into the trek, so we had to keep going. My weakness got worse and I was literally pulling myself up with my hiking stick because my legs were jelly. There wasn't anything Mike could do but wait for me. It was sunset and we still hadn't crossed the pass that would allow us down to the next town we knew had a lodge. With our headlamps on(not on our heads because the bugs went straight for your eyes) we crossed the pass in the mist of fog and looked at our map. It showed we would leave the watershed and we figured there would be a gate or checkpost. We saw one, but no sign and barbed wire across the trail. Must be to keep the wildlife in and non paying
guest out, right?

Next came a pit... with bamboo spikes at the bottom. Yes, sharp pointy sticks in a hole in the ground the size of a bus. We expected poisoned darts and a huge rolling boulder next, e.g. Indiana Jones. But we walked around it and just saw more barbed wire across the trail and then heard some guy singing in the night. By this time we had guessed what this was, an army base. We were a little hesitant to alert our presence to a possible drunk and armed soldier late at night. But, he yelled out(in perfect english no less) that we needed to go back and down the other trail. We stumbled into town and the owner of a lodge was waiting up for us like we were expected.

We met two Swedes that informed us the Ganja La pass we intended to do was snowbound and impassable in certain areas unless you had climbing equipment. It was lower than the other passes we had done, but we kept hearing that a guide was needed and it couldn't be done in one day as we had hoped to do. So, now we couldn't do a circuit and would have to do an out and back hike. We first had to cross the Laurabina La at 4610m in the Gosainkund area where there was a Hindu holy lake.

We had a good laugh with our lodge owner when I shared my chocolate spead with him. He then told us the story of one of his male workers who found some unused tampons in a room and walked all around town asking what they were. Nepalis are very modest and no one would tell him until a few trekkers informed him of their purpose. All the light mood was good as I was now recovered from my sickness and wanted to get my strength back. We were a little disoriented from coming in during the night, but we were pointed in the right way and had long hike down and back up the next valley. On clear days we could have seen both the Annapurna and Everest ranges on either side of us. We did get a very nice sunset and views of what we thought might have been Everest.

Several cloudy and rainy days of hiking got us over the pass and to the Gosainkund lake. We could have pushed on, but we were hoping it would clear for some views... It didn't. We did get our 15 minute view, when suddenly the clouds will part and you have to run out to take pictures. Then the clouds come back in quickly and the views are gone. Even though this lake was a little warmer, and holier apparently, we skipped out on the skinny dipping. Our shortest day of the trip, a one hour trek down, was done in the rain and then we had to wait out the rest of the day in the dining room, drying out our clothes and playing endless games of cards and chess. Only when we couldn't hike for long hours did we realize there wasn't much to do in these lodges. Normally we just come in right at dinner time and eat and then crash into bed from exhaustion.

We now were in the Langtang Valley, but we had to lose nearly 2000m of elevation just so we could climb back up again. We made the trek up quickly in two days since we were still acclimatized from the pass. We acquired a trekking partner, a 12 year old kid who wanted us to eat at his lodge. The lodge was closed and he had to run off and find his sister to open it up. After a while she came and cooked us an awful meal of fried noodles(it's hard to mess up noodles, but it's been done twice to us now on this trip). To be fair, it's not the best season for growing any food up this high, and the harvests don't come in till the fall. So, there is no cheese or fruit and very few vegetables. Only the staples of rice, potatoes and whatever can be hauled up by the porters.

The sister said she had a lodge at the final town of Kyanjin Gompa, but it was closed so she would hike with us to open it up. It was raining and she hiked up the whole way with us and guilt tripped us into staying at her lodge. It was cheaper than the others, free actually since it is low season and the rooms are given away in order for the trekkers to stay and buy food. To our surprise, we were cooked probably the best Dal Bhat(the staple Nepali Meal), which included fresh morelle mushrooms and a spicier curry/dal sauce.

It would rain around 5am, but we had to be out and trekking by 6am in order to hit our cloudless window from 8-10am. First we walked all the way up valley to Gangchenpo and the border area. We were stopped by a washed out bridge, but managed to climb up the side of the glacier to see the pleasant meadows filled with horses and yaks below. Mike twisted an ankle in a stream crossing but soldiered on. We even had time to come back to visit the gompa and take a tour of the cheese factory, which would receive the yak milk in the next week to start making more cheese.

Our final day in the high country was our last chance to see some of the high peaks at a viewpoint above the town called Kyanjin Ri. The trail split early and we went different ways thinking we could get more pictures from different areas. Mike hiked to a set of prayer flags on the Langtang Valley side and I hiked to a saddle which was closer to the Langtang Glacier. We both made it to our areas by 9am, but the clouds came up within 5 minutes. It's amazing how fast they form and fly up the sides of the valley. We never met each other on the mountain and had to wander back on separate paths to Kyanjin gompa. Mike met a guy wanting a watch, but I had a watch I could easily part with. Mike thought I was behind him so he told the guy to look for me. I was probably 2 km away, on the other side of a range when i bumped into a guy looking for his yaks. He asked the time and I could tell he wanted the watch. I'm sure it wasn't the same guy, but I wouldn't doubt
the ability of a nepali to haul ass and find me just so he could have a watch.

We spent two days getting down the valley to the "road" at Syrabu Besi. We would take the 6-10 hour bus ride back to Kathmandu the next morning. The large difference in possible times is due to road conditions changing for landslides. We wandered around town and I jumped into a soccer match playing near a school. The game ended after 30 min when the ball(mostly deflated but still roundish) was kicked off the side and down into the river. One of the kids took this opportunity to show me his home and ask for sponsorship to help with his schooling. After living on the cheap and realizing the Langtang area had been cheaper than the other trekking areas, I reassessed my finances and decided I could part with $100 US. I asked him what this would get him. This amount would pay for his school supplies, admission(there is no free education system in Nepal), and boarding in Kathmandu for 3 months. Many times I have spent more than that on a night out or for a full
tank of gas. It's always humbling to know what money can get you in different parts of the world...

--
And now... it seems that all my good stories are bus stories... If I ever wrote a book, I would have to specialize on third world bus rides...

The 14 Hour Bus Ride From Syrabu Besi to Kathmandu:

The bus was a normal size bus this time, but the road was the mini version and dirt for over half the way back. We bought tickets with seats, but lucky us, our seats were in the back row. I wasn't going to squeeze in, so I jumped on the roof. This way I could look after our bags that were stored up there. We made it 5 minutes out of town and the bus got bogged down in the mud on a steep uphill. A few people got off to throw clay and rocks under the tires, but the bus just spun closer to the edge of the 100 meter dropoff. When he was within 3 feet of the edge, this prompted everyone to get off the bus and walk down the road so the less weight would help him up the steep slope. After 15 minutes the bus made it back on, and we all jumped back on.

I scraped my knuckle in the process and dipped into my medical bag for antiseptic and a band-aid. The rest of the Nepalis noticed this and I became the impromptu doctor of the bus, handing out what few things I had left. I was offered a small plum-like fruit in appreciation. It took two hours to get to the next town. We were all told to get off the top of the bus because the army checkpost was coming up. We had to show our national park receipts, the tourists at least, and then we were back on the top of the bus. 5 minutes down the road, mike yells up to me to ask if I have his passport. In the confusion, I thought the army guard had put his passport back his backpack, but I didn't check and I just gave the backpack back to mike. So, we stopped the whole bus and a motorcycle stopped to turn around and drive mike back. Our bus kept going, thinking that Mike would catch up on the motorcycle since the bus was so slow. He didn't need to as we were stopped in
the road by another bus with a broken axle. The other bus managed to stop right in the middle, blocked both directions. Our bus was scavenged for parts in order to get the broken down bus moving again. An hour later, the bus was fixed, but another bus had gotten stuck trying to pull off the side. Oh well, we didn't stop to help, as the other bus was empty.

With all the delays, we didn't make it to our scheduled lunchtime restaurant stop until 2pm. Dal Bhat was made in mass quantities and plopped down in front of you before you even sat down at the table. The sun was out now and baking the top of the bus, but I had lost my seat to the many newcomers now standing in the aisles. So, I had to stay on the top, but was entertained as we had 4 buses racing, NASCAR style, with everyone on top of the bus yelling and cheering on like spectators. Our driver was the most timid and we ended up last, plus with our lack of parts, we seemed to have a real hard time turning left. On the switchbacks we could make the right hand turns fine, but on the left hand turns we had to make three point turns, backing up precariously close to the edge.

We finally made it to Trisuli Bazaar by 5pm, but the driver thought this was the best time to work on the bus and try to fix the no-left-turn problem. This gave us enough time to wait for the rains to build up and start pouring down. We waited for close to 2 hours and it was dusk by the time the rain really started to come down. I had tried to find a seat next to the driver, but everytime he shifted into second gear, he'd smash me in the back. One french guy stayed on top through the downpours, and everyone kept trying to look up to see if he was still there.

Then came the river crossings. Two times we had to keep up speed and plow through standing water that had overflowed the water channels from the heavy rain. But on the third one we were stopped by other buses. After waiting for 30 minutes, it was decided that we would walk across the mud that had blocked the road to a bus on the other side, it would turn around, and the other bus' occupants would do the same to our bus. Did I mention it was pouring rain... So, now we have a bus full of soaked people and Mike and I were tired of squeezing into the back, so we just appropriated new seats since it was a new bus. This all sounds fine in text, but how do you turn around a 30 foot bus when the road isn't 30 feet wide? Our driver was going to try... We backed up about 20 meters, passing or forcing cars to move out of our way, when he stopped and went forward again.

It was then that we noticed buses come from the other direction. Wait, wasn't that our old empty bus going past us? Yup, the mudslide had been cleared and the road was open again. So, back out into the rain to switch back to our original bus. A few more hours were still needed to get into Kathmandu. We finally arrived at 9pm, 14 hours after we started, all to get 100km or 60 miles. We ended up sharing a taxi with the french couple we stole the seats on the bus from, but within 30 seconds the taxi got a puncture in the tire... Our driver was determined to keep our fare, so he managed to change the tire in under 5 minutes in the pouring rain. After such a long hard journey, we settled on a hotel called, "Hotel Easy"...

--

Killing 4 days in Kathmandu isn't hard if you like temples and shopping, but I'd already done that the previous 2 times we'd been here and there was little left to do. We bought our last few items and decided to visit our last temple, Pashupatinath. It was a Hindu temple and we walked through town for an hour to save some cash and see some different areas of town. We passed the circus tent blasting religious music into the air and then passed a few signs that said "Hindu Only". I thought Muslims were the exclusion religion, but it looks like Hindus want to join the club. We were then requested to buy tickets, but only tourists had to purchase them. Hindus were free, so I boldly claimed, "I am Hindu" and walked past the ticket counter. Mike followed and we had about 5 minutes before the "tourist police" came and asked us for our tickets. We played dumb, I stuck to my hindu story, and then just talked circles around them in hopes they would get bored of
us. They finally did, and we just walked away to continue our browsing. This was all over a $3.50 US ticket, but how about I charge all non-americans for reading this email. I'm not a big fan of exclusion...

Then the circus really began. Hindu's perform their cremations on a funeral pyre by the river. The hospital in next to the temple where the body is wrapped and cleansed in the river. It is then taken to one of the pyres lining the river. The ones closer to the temple cost more than the ones farther away. The body is then set upon a stack of wood and set alight. It was a slow burning fire and a little unnerving to realize the smoke we were breathing in used to be a human being. The ashes were then swept into the river to flow down and meet with the holy Ganges river. This was all conveyed to us by a small boy wanted to practice his english and show off his knowledge.

We watched all this from the other side of the river, on steps that overlooked the whole process. Along with us were other tourists, nepalis, and vendors(selling newspapers, cotton candy and Sardu's who want money for smearing a bindi on your forehead). It was morbid for me to watch the cremation process, but I understand the grieving process for the family. I don't understand the spectacle of it all.

We enjoyed our time in Nepal immensely, and regretted having to go home, but 27 hours of airplanes later... and we're back in america with it's $4 gallon of gas...

Our three trips to Annapurna, Khumbu, and Langtang consisted of 43 days of trekking, for a distance of 522km/324 miles, with an elevation gain of 20,300m/66,600 feet, and with a profound respect for the resourcefulness and strength of the Nepali People. The culture shock is slowly starting to sink in of having to re-adapt to my own culture and I already wish I was back travelling again.

"When Bush took office, gas cost $1.46" - Bumper sticker seen while driving back from the airport

______________________________________________
Enviado desde Correo Yahoo! La bandeja de entrada más inteligente.

.: Ben Hansen :: 7:10 PM [+] 0 comments

Ooopppp!!!! :(

 

Seems I pressed the 'reply all' button by mistake on that last email to Ben. Apologies :P

 

Nige

 

.: Ben Hansen :: 11:04 PM [+] 0 comments

Ben,

 

Nice to see you are back on the road again (where you belong you think?). Now I get to lots of good travel reading again, good to see. Actually, I am about to set of on a mini RTW trip (well almost RTW), taking in western Oz, singapore, malaysia, thailand, UAE, Ireland, london, spain, new york, Austin, belize (all in about 6 weeks!),and Brazil (where I will be hanging out for 6 months or so)... its been 7 years or so since we met in Bristol (if my memory serves me), so it is long overdue for me to get the cobwebs of my pack! Let me know if you are anywhere around these parts in July/August so I can buy you a beer.

 

Maybe even write a wee email or two myself.

 

Cheers

Kiwi Nige

2008/6/2 Ben Hansen <snowblizz@yahoo.com>:

After a night in Kathmandu(trust me it's not relaxing, it's just a bed with the cacophony of chickens, dogs, and every motorized horn possible keeping the air filled with noise), we were off on our flight to Lukla and hike in the Khumbu-Mt Everest region. Again, no taking off shoes, but I did have to give my big wooden stick for checked baggage. They guy next

.: Ben Hansen :: 11:00 PM [+] 0 comments

After a night in Kathmandu(trust me it's not relaxing, it's just a bed with the cacophony of chickens, dogs, and every motorized horn possible keeping the air filled with noise), we were off on our flight to Lukla and hike in the Khumbu-Mt Everest region. Again, no taking off shoes, but I did have to give my big wooden stick for checked baggage. They guy next to me had a wooden stick 2 feet shorter... his made it to carry on... size not functionality...

Our delightful aircraft was a 20 person fixed wing propeller plane. Not pressurized, no cockpit door(no sleeping on the job for these pilots, the flight is only 45 minutes long) and a flight attendant who passes out boiled sweets and cotton swabs for the noise of the engines. Landing on close to a 30 degree pitch in Lukla makes it a quick and abrupt landing. The flights are only in the morning when the good weather allows, so we were off to Everest at 7am for a quick start.

Mike had picked up a stomach bug in Pokhara and was still feeling the affects. We were starting at 2700 meters, so no need to climb up through the jungle this time. Many more yaks and the porters had the ingenious idea to use their hiking sticks, shaped like T's, as a prop under their wicker basket backpacks. After 2 days we made it to the Sherpa capital village called Namche Bazaar. Mike was in full on sick mode now and I sought out a pharmacy. After diagnosing him as having either giardia or bacterial intestinal problems, we drugged him up with Hydrochloric acid and giardia treatments, but it would take 2 days too take effect. While waiting for him to get better, I caught a head cold, which lovingly moved into my chest to develop bronchitis. Hacking up blood and bright green phlegm while trying to take a picture of a mountain seems foolish, but I guess that's what I did.

After ridiculing the woman who was puking on the Thorong-La pass in my last email, it would seem foolish for us to continue, but neither of our symptoms were for altitude sickness, so we could continue, just not under the most ideal conditions.

We were told of a few mountain passes that would allow a circuit route instead of the straight up path to base camp and back, so we headed up to Gokyo lakes(six of them along the glacier). We passed Macheremo where Reinhold Messner supposedly saw a yeti and one attacked some yaks. The local lodge owner we talked to was there in '74 when it supposedly happened, but he laughed it off when we asked about it. Clouds were constantly coming in by early afternoon, so most of our days consisted of us waking at 4am to see if the weather was clear. We climbed up twice for views of Everest and Cho Oyu. Cho Oyu Base Camp was deserted because of the the Chinese blockage of peaks over 6000m, but the whole area is a beautiful convergence of glaciers coming off the high peaks. Everest is probably the least photogenic mountain around, but it is the biggest, so it pulls the asian tourists with plenty of cameras. We had a group of 4 guys in the buff except american flag
thongs taking pictures to lighten the mood.

Our pass was called Cho La, and was the same height as Thorang-La, 5420m. We followed some porters in the fog until we saw a wall of snow and scree. They kept going up, in their fake chinese sneakers and light jackets, so we followed. On a map we saw, this section is called "slippery trail" because the sun never hits here and the snow accumulates. It was indeed slippery, but we made it over alright. By this time we had picked up another German trekker, Markus, who was travelling at our same pace(fast, even though I was still sick). He had been through India and was a better bargainer, so we just let him fight it out with the lodge owners and food vendors and we'd slip in expecting the same price.

Gorak Shep is the high village before Everest Base Camp, and we climbed up for another closer view of Sagaramatha, as the Nepalis call it. We could see base camp perched on the glacier and it's a 2 hour hike up to it. After reading climbing books, I had a picture of trash and oxygen bottles everywhere, but camp was exceptionally clean. They have recently had cleaning campaigns, so base camp is rather tidy for being perched on a grinding glacier. I've heard the higher camps are still messy, but most people won't see those.

We had heard there was a bakery tent, and found it to have quite possibly the best apple pie I have ever tasted. How these guys manage to bake at such high altitude is amazing. I saw the guy trying to knead frozen dough with a butcher knife. A group of Austrians came in and Markus translated their conversation for us. They had made the summit a few days earlier, and the one guy seemed pretty happy about it. But, they had "left" one of their members up on the mountain. Euphemism for "the guy died and we didn't have the energy to bring him down" They said they were on top without gloves because it was "warm", but obviously one of the expedition members didn't make it. It made me think how much I like climbing but that I don't need a silly statistic if one of my friends has to die in the process. Many of these sherpas climb 10 or more times to the summit and make endless trips caching up for the camps, but it's just a job for them. There is an overwhelming
feeling of "at your own risk" around camp, as people have more to be worried about than being nice to trekkers who wander through.

There was another pass to the Makalu peak area that was less used that we wanted to try. First we had to climb down to Lobuche, which turned out to be the coldest and most miserable lodge of our trip. The Everest Marathon was on the 29th of May, and they were using this area for the runners to acclimatize. Our tiny lodge turning into the medical tent and everyone with problems came into the dining hall for medications while we were trying to eat.

The next morning was too foggy to see across the glacier we had to cross, and we lost the path, so we just dead reckoned and aimed for a point on the other side. Markus stayed low and ended up in the moraine lake, while Mike and I attacked the loose sand/scree hills. We all made it across to see the clouds clear and give us great views of the whole Khumbu Valley. This pass was just as steep, but no snow. Little bouts of sunshine showed us some glacial lakes on the other side of the pass. After 10 days of no showers(they cost money for hot water, and our frugality prevented us from showering, unless a nearby stream allowed a hobo washing), we thought a dip in the lake would be refreshing.

Normally, Mike is the cold water specialist, but I had the enthusiasm today. Mike also proposed that a quick dip would cure my cold... the theory failed... After sounding confident, Mike decided against jumping in, but Markus and I got in and shamed Mike into joining us. Needless to say, none of us lasted more than 10 seconds in the water before gasping for air from the shock of the cold.

We had heard of a trekking mountain we wanted to climb, but only recently learned that Island Peak needed a permit to climb. The statistical 6000m or 20,000 ft mountain is sought after by amature climbers on their way up to the 8000m ranges. Instead we climbed to the base camp and saw the huge lake that had formed in the moraine.

It was now only down back to Namche and back up to a village where a huge Buddhist festival, Mani Rimdu had just ended. Our way through Tengboche saw a huge tent pitched for a speech by one of Sir Edmund Hillary's grandsons. We instead sat in the temple "puja" where the monks chant their mantras and prayers in harmonic chaos. It lasted over 2 hours, and was quite an extrodinary audio/trance feeling. A monk came over and accused mike of filming, but still pictures are allowed without a flash. While he politely explained his camera was only taking pictures, a film crew was walking around filming the whole thing. We had overheard the cameraman "donate" $100 in order to be allowed to film. Filler for whatever else he was filming must have been worth it, at least compared to our honest interest in what the monks were doing.

Thami was up the valley on the way to the old Tibetan trade route over the Nangpa-La pass. It was closed until recently, but opened up on the Nepali side until the pass with Tibet still being closed to foreigners. The village was recovering from the festival and we seemed to be the only ones in town. After shorting ourselves on meals to save money, we ordered 27 different meals to appease our hunger. The "didi" or woman of the house was a jovial lady with a slightly psycotically happy husband(this guy would laugh at anything, quite often). We found a dead moth in the sugar bowl and he started laughing and picked it up to show the rest of the family and laugh some more.

On our way down to Namche on May 29th, Tenzing-Hillary Everest Day, we caught the finish line of the marathon. Best time was 3 hours 53 minutes, and most of these guys had severe limps from the bashing of their knees from running down from Gorak Shep to Namche the full 26 miles. We even loaned our hiking sticks to a few of the runners to hobble down to the main part of town to their hotels or restaurants for the celebrations and music concert later that night.

Instead, we had a marathon 10 hour day down to Lukla to catch our flight, the same dinky ride off the cliff at Lukla. They use every inch of the runway and you get a pretty good g-force feeling as it banks up to gain altitude over the cliffs.

Upon entering Kathmandu again, everything seemed eerily quiet. We quickly learned, as there were few radios in the lodges we stayed at, that the monarchy had been disolved by the new government. The king has been given 15 days to leave the royal palace so they can turn it into a museum. The king was not widely like or the prince even less after the strange murders of the previous king in 2001. So, most people here are happy for him to go and are eager to see what the new republic of Nepal can provide. The prince is already gone, but the kind is supposedly taking astrologers' advice as to when the perfect time to leave is.

Since Tibet is closed and the monsoons haven't hit yet, the country is still seeing plenty of foreigners lingering around. So, there are still plenty of people around while we hang out in Kathmandu. The hilarious attempt at a sex trade here is under the guise of 'shower dances'. The seedy night clubs with dancing on stages with stripper poles all advertise this additional option. Curiosity got the best of us and we popped into the Red Lips Dance Bar. We managed to ward off the waiter who kept trying to get us to buy the triple overpriced drinks and one of the dancers who sat down to get to know us. The local Nepali men danced on the stage more than the girls did(whose faces looked miserable, they just didn't want to dance). A fight broke out at the strategic time to allow us to escape without having to pay for our research trip. I never figured out the exact details of a shower dance, but we did see the shower nozzle above the stripper bar, so I'll leave
it to everyones imagination.

Our hotel has a view of the palace and is only a 5 minute walk to the gates. If all goes well with our plans to visit the Indian Himalayas, we won't be here when he leaves. I've never been evicted from an apartment, but it's hard to imagine what being evicted from a palace would be like....

We finished the trek quickly again: 16 days, roughly 100 miles, 2 passes at 5400m, and some of the most dramatic mountain scenery I've ever seen.

I'll leave you with a quote about the awe of nature, which I find confirmed while travelling throught these magical places(I'd also add looking upon the Himalaya in his list):

--
"What can be more soul shaking than peering through a 100-inch telescope at a distant galaxy, holding a 100-million-year-old fossil or a 500,000-year-old stone tool in one's hand, standing before the immense chasm of space and time that is the Grand Canyon, or listening to a scientist who gazed upon the face of the universe's creation and did not blink? That is deep and sacred science." - Michael Shermer

¿Quién necesidades duermen?

______________________________________________
Enviado desde Correo Yahoo! La bandeja de entrada más inteligente.

.: Ben Hansen :: 8:58 AM [+] 0 comments