Climbing to Tatopani

About 2 hours from Dunche, and 9 hours from Kathmandu, we finally reached a place where vehicles could no longer travel. Ahead of us were rocky treeless mountains and beyond the mountains the radiant snow covered peaks of Tibet.

From the road a dusty path took us to a hanging bridge that must have been very recently created. I have been across bridges that had no netting and wooden slats rotted through. Where there were holes, a flat rock bridged the gap. This bridge however was very sturdy. At this time of the year animals could be herded through the river below, but in the rainy season, the bridge would be the only access to trade with civilization.

Just beyond the bridge we encountered an old chorten. It was inscribed with prayers for the deceased. The proper way to show respect is to pass the chorten to the left circumambulating clockwise just as you would travel around a stupa.

Suddenly, the path took a sharp, steep turn to the right and we began to climb the rocky steps. It wasn't too difficult at first. I took my time placing my feet carefully so that I wouldn't slip. But soon I felt unstable in my knees and ankles. Even though I was carrying nothing but a walking stick, the climb was very difficult for me. I am at least 40 pounds overweight, which everyone in Nepal generously offered to cure with vegetables, herbs, work and yoga. I stopped often and about a half hour into the climb I decided to take my pulse. It was 170 beats per minute.

About 10 years before this journey, I broke my ankle in three places. I still have a metal plate with screws holding it all together. When I broke my ankle, it was on a most ordinary hike in the Maryland woods, nothing like these gravel covered rocky steps clinging to the side of the mountain. A simple misstep and I had to have 4 people carry me out of the woods strapped to a board. "What would happen if I broke a leg up here?" I wondered out loud. JR told me that if I broke my leg on the mountainside that they could not help me in Dunche, they would have to take me all the way back to Kathmandu. He said that they would call for a helicopter. That would be fine for me, I thought, somehow we would figure out how to pay for the rescue, but what of the thousands of people who lived up in these hills?

I know that everyone was concerned about me. They never raced ahead even though I think it would have been easier for them to climb more quickly. They were especially worried when I began to feel dizzy, and they asked if I wanted to stay with one of the families living on the side of the hill. Could I do it? Could I climb all the way to the top? Yes... yes, I was doing it. One step was not too much to bear and what is a journey but one step at a time? JR sang folk tunes behind me and I focused on the glittering rocks and the beautiful terraces, and in that way we climbed. Although it was difficult and painful, the pain would be but a moment and the beauty would be just as fleeting. I was being honored by my extended family with this most precious gift of seeing a place that only a tiny fraction of the world will ever see first hand.

It takes a native 1 and 1/2 hours to climb that mountain. It takes a fit young American 2 hours to climb to the top. It took me 4 hours, but I did it. Life is not a competition, not even with ourselves, it is a journey made up of precious moments, each one to be savored as it is presented.

The village by the river at the center of the picture is where we began our climb.
By the time we arrived, it was already dark.

Blue Sky, Clear Water

Heading for the Tibetan Border

Dunche

Dunche

I tried very hard to take a good picture of Dunche for you. It is the largest village in this region, the one that you can find on a map. Our vehicle was shaking so violently that this was the best I could do.

It really isn't a very large village, but it is an important one. There is a military check point there where we had to show proper permits to enter the region. Not far away we saw policemen on training exercises running uphill in formation carrying their guns. There is a history of political conflict here. It is also very close to China, formerly Tibet.

Long past Dunche, there were many smaller villages. At the confluence of streams, wherever there is water and a bit of flat land, you will find people trying to eek out a living. If it does not have a house on it, it is because a home was not sustainable there. The power lines that you see are bringing electricity to these tiny villages from the hydroelectric plants. They actually have more reliable power up in the hills than they do in the capital of Kathmandu.

Water is the key to life in this terrain. As the glaciers disappear from the Himalayas, there is less water for the terraced farms. Without the vegetation the terraced fields turn to brown dust and erode. I saw hundreds of abandoned fields. There were whole sides of mountains that had turned brown and barren dotted with empty broken dwellings. In one area, I saw a brown abandoned mountain that faced a lush green productive mountain. Viewed from the valley, it was a very striking contrast. The difference between these two mountains was irrigation.

One of the best projects that I have seen in Nepal were little fish hatcheries. I saw several large concrete ponds on the mountainsides. All they need is a good spring to feed the pond and they could raise a Japanese variety of rainbow trout to eat and to sell. Many of the hatcheries had restaurants right next to the road serving the fish they raised.

Speaking of fresh fish, after 4 hours of bouncing around, it was time to stop for brunch. We were getting very near the area where we were going to begin our hike. There was no fish for us though. We had the usual: milk tea, lentils, rice, vegetable curry and eggs.

Tania, Belief and JR are above, I think TN is sitting behind his younger brother.

The housing and clothes were much different in Langtang. They had a more Tibetan flavor to them. There were Buddhist symbols carved on the doors, and prayer flags and chortens were all over the village. Neat rows of clean houses decorated in primary colors lined the streets.

Tania found a Cyber Cafe all the way up here with a good connection and sent a quick note to her employees in Brookline, MA, about what they need to do for an upcoming sale. We don't really get away from work any more, do we?

This whole area looks newly built.

A Chorten; you really need to click on these photos to see the details.

The buildings that you see across the river are a Tibetan Refugee camp.

A better image of the camp.

More beautiful children looking for something to do by the side of the road in the small village where we had brunch.

We were getting very close to the beginning of our hike up to the hot springs. That will be in the next post.

The Monkey Temple, Swayambhunath, sight seeing part three

There is a meditation in every moment.

Here are some focal points for today's meditation.

Buddhist Monks at Swayambhu.

The deer above the door are symbols of Buddha's first teaching

Stupa or Chorten at Swayambhu

Dipankar Buddha 7th Century, carved from a single stone

Protection and Charity

Ringing the Bell at Swayambhu.

Dragons are Symbols of Sacred Wisdom.

Stupa or Chorten, a holy reliquary.

Grooming

Offerings for Prayers