Nepal
20 December 2019
After a week in Kathmandu planning the field work, I was eager to get out of town and start work in the village. Due to a lack of funding and a lack of planning, I still needed field staff. So I dug deep in the bullpen and called up my old friend Harina. She hopped on a bus from her home in the Far West, and arrived in good spirits 30 hours later.
22 December 2019
Panchkhal, Nepal
We walked around villages for a few days checking biogas systems. Most of the biogas systems need repairs. After installing some biogas flow meters, we decided to walk to Nagarkot (one day away) to see the views. Harina insisted that we get an early start, so we left the hotel at 6 AM, in a thick fog, and blundered into the dark on the shortest day of the year. Her selection of clothing, in my opinion, was non-conventional trekking gear, but she never got tired of carrying the purse. I was able to convince her to upgrade her office sandals to fake Nike's, but I don’t know if the shoes helped much.
Harina was experienced at spotting and navigating shortcuts, but she acted like she couldn’t read the map, which left me defenseless when trying to convince her which way to go. She stopped to ask directions from every person along the way, even when it was obvious which way to go. The conversations with trail folk got longer as the day progressed.
When we were almost there, she asked a man on a motorcycle how to get to Nagarkot. He asked where we were coming from, and she replied:
"We started in Lamidihi at 6 AM and we have been walking for 7 hours. I am tired and my foot hurts and I don't want to walk anymore. We tried to take the shortcut through the jungle but I smelled leopard and I got scared and ran back to the road but he couldn't smell leopard. Our work is to check biogas systems. I am from Baitadi District. He is an engineer from USA. He wants to live in Nepal, and he likes the mountains and the jungle. I want to go to USA and get a job, and I like the city. Do you know if there are any cheap hotels in Nagarkot? I heard it is expensive because tourists go there."
A few weeks before coming to Nepal, I was stopped by a security guard while taking a bike ride on Weyerhauser timber property. The security guard tried to teach me a lesson by saying "How would you like it if I came and ate lunch on your porch?" I thought to myself 'You are welcome anytime', but instead I just nodded to let him feel like he made his point.
When we were about half way to Nagarkot, we were not sure which trail to take. We sat down on someone's porch to rest. Harina yelled in the front door for water. A woman came out with a cup of water. The woman insisted that we stay for lunch, and she was disappointed to hear that we were not hungry. Her husband came down the hillside and we talked for a while (I mostly listened), before showed us which way to go. Next time I see the Weyerhaeuser security guard again, I will invite him over for lunch.
27 December 2019
After a healthy shopping spree in Kathmandu, Harina went back home. I went for a solo trek to Gosainkunda, starting in Melamchi.
I started up the river, then cut up the ridge towards Thakani. Progress was slow from switchbacks and frequent stops for food and tea. The sun was getting low and I could feel I was getting off track. I started to doubt my course, when I encountered a drunk woman who assured me I was going the right way. She wanted to talk, and she got mad when I couldn't understand her. We walked together and eventually reached a village. A group of people argued with the drunk woman about which way I should go, before eventually agreeing with her, and sending me on my way. I said thanks and moved quickly up the ridge through an amazing pine forest as the sun set. I reached Thakani right at dusk and grabbed the first and only hotel I could find. It was under construction, and smelled like plaster, but it was perfect. The owners were a local producer of raksi (distilled rice wine) and lots of people came by to drink and talk and take bottles to go.
28 December 2019
I declined to drink the night before, but they spiked my morning tea, and I set off in the morning with raksi breath. I walked alone all day following the ridge north towards the white Himalayas.
29 December 2019
I continued north along the ridge. The snow was deep above 3000 meters, and progress was slow.
I arrived at a guest home late in the afternoon in an amazing saddle at 3500 meters. People trickled in throughout the evening from Nepal, Germany, Italy, and France.
30 December 2019
One again I was on my own, and happy. The other travelers went down in the valley towards the Melamchi River. I continued up towards the pass, ending up at Phedi for the night. It was the perfect place, tucked high in a drainage, but still 900 meters below the pass.
The stove put out just enough heat to keep the dining room around freezing temperature. The stove chimney was sealed with tar, and when the fire was stoked too hot, tar dripped onto the stove and filled the room with tar smoke.
Plenty of mice. They had a neat hydropower system. My phone charger didn't like it, but the LED lamps were running smooth.
Photo: Powerhouse
One nice thing about hiking in Nepal is that you don't have to worry about packing out your trash. You can just throw it on the ground anywhere. Or you can put it in the garbage can at the guest home and they will throw it on the ground for you.
On the way to Phedi I stopped at the Mendo Hotel. I was looking forward to corking a vintage pinot and smoking some high-grade buds while snacking on black trumpet hors d'oeuvres. I was disappointed to learn the place was named after a local flower, not Mendocino County, and I settled for popcorn and milk tea.
They were growing sagh in an interesting cave garden.
31 December 2019
I cruised over the pass (4600 meters), and was at the hotel in Gosainkunda by mid day.
The hotel staff, a man and woman and daughter, insisted that I join them by the fire. The daughter was knitting. The parents were snorting a brown powder, which looked painful. I was the only visitor there, and they said I could choose any room I wanted. I had some energy to burn so I scrambled up to a spectacular lookout.
When I returned, the hotel was full, with too many people to count from Germany and USA, and an equal number of Nepali guides and porters. After losing my room to another foreigner, I got to sleep in the attic with the porters. One of them rolled joints for everyone and he passed them out and they smoked. I declined because I needed all of my lungs for tomorrow's climb. The wind was strong that night and the attic was breezy. The room temperature was well below freezing. I couldn’t stay warm wearing all of my clothes in my sleeping bag. Fortunately, one of the porters snuggled up next to me and shared his blanket. I farted all night, but he didn't seem to care.
1 January 2020
Happy new year. My new year's resolution was to climb Surya peak (5145 m).
Photos: Looking at Surya Peak from Nagarkot.
My day started a little off and stayed that way. I didn't sleep much because of the howling wind. I had a light headache, and I was freezing cold as soon as I got out of bed. I wanted to power up with a big breakfast, but the hotel was too crowded to order what I wanted, and I had to settle for a plate of fried rice.
I asked the hotel man about climbing the peak. He said it is not possible right now. There is too much snow, too much ice, and it is too cold and dangerous. I appreciated his opinion, but I had a new year's resolution to check off the list. My plan was to summit in the morning and move on to the next hotel in the afternoon. But the climb took all 10 hours of sunlight, and I returned to the hotel, over-exhausted, right before dark.
The hardest part was the approach: two kilometers through a boulder garden covered in snow with a crust of ice. I was thoroughly exhausted when I finally reached the base of the summit ridge. There was a nice route of ice, but without proper ice climbing gear, I instead climbed a rocky spine. At about 50 vertical meters from the top, the bitter cold wind blew away my desire to continue on. I tried to think of a reason to continue on, but nothing came to mind, so I continued on with no reason. Once at the top, I felt thoroughly defeated. A stick, marking the summit, made a low pitch hum in the wind. I took a selfie to use as my new profile pic, but upon review, I am not sure if my snotsickle is the image I want to advertise.
The views from the top were nice, but brief, as clouds formed and dissipated around me. I was worried the clouds would stick, and I would have to descent with no visibility. I poked my head off the south face to see the pass 500 meters below, and felt the desire to go back down. I ate a frozen candy bar and started back down. I checked my new year's resolution off the list, and in doing so, I learned a lesson that I am still trying to communicate. I gained a deeper respect for the Himalayas, and a deeper understanding of my limits.
2 January 2020
After summiting a few days ahead of schedule, I realized I had just enough time to walk back to Kathmandu, so instead of continuing on to Dunche to catch the bus, I reversed course back over the pass and back down the long ridge from whence I came. It felt so good to drop down below 4000 meters and feel warm blood pulsing through my fingers and toes. But with the flow of blood came the pain of frostbite, and the realization that at least one toenail was dead. It snowed lightly all day, but not enough to impede progress. The snow was a peaceful break from the bright sun, wind, and panoramic views, to focus on the forest surrounding me. In the late afternoon the sun poked through.
End of Nepal trip
September 2019
The Wedding Tour
Wedding 1 of 2
I went to New Orleans to Bryan and Tola’s wedding.
New Orleans is very interesting. An island in the swamp, with lots of cigarettes and tattoos. My diet consisted of crawdads and shrimp. There were many authentic restaurants right outside my hostel.
After the wedding I went out on the town with Bryan’s sisters and cousins. I started the night with 7 strangers and ended the night with 7 new best friends. We left the hotel aiming for the Cat’s Meow. We never made it to the Cat’s Meow, but it was a great adventure trying to get there. I was out of character in a full suit and tie, and I hit a personal record for number of compliments received on how nicely I was dressed. Deep inside a hot jazz bar, I was even complimented on how well my skin was taking the heat.
After checking the wedding and the New Orleans night life off the list, my focus shifted to the bayou. I went to the front desk at my hostel, and I asked where I could rent a kayak to explore the swamp. The woman behind the desk, with assistance from a man at the bar, proceeded to tell me that I can’t rent a kayak, that I need a license to boat in the swamp, and if I tried, I would be eaten because alligators know how to flip kayaks. The woman steered me to a safer alternative: a motorboat swamp tour package. The cover of the flier portrayed a boat overloaded with people, feeding an alligator with a hot dog on a stick. I refused to accept their bullshit. Hours later I was in a kayak deep in the cypress swamp. I asked my guide Olive a stupid question that she did not know the answer to, and she turned to me and replied “There’s an alligator next to you”. Before I could swivel my head, it went under, and thumped the bottom of my boat. “Don’t worry, it was a little one,” she said.
The next day I went kayaking again with Bryan’s cousin Jake. We had an amazing time exploring sinuous swamp channels. One time I drifted into some thick reeds, and a two-foot long pickerel popped out of the grass, bounced off my chest, slid down my leg, and plopped back in the water. I could have easily deflected it into the boat (you know how much I like eating bony pike), but my brain was slow to process what the slimy creature was, and if I wanted it in the boat with me. The fish was long gone before I decided it was a keeper.
Another time, we entered a narrow side channel and our route was blocked by a giant alligator. After a long faceoff, my instinct was to retreat. I told Jake I would support his decision if he wanted to try to sneak by it, but Jake was also feeling the instinct to retreat. The alligator politely escorted us as we back-paddled to the main channel, and to our relief, it stopped escorting us once we reached the main channel.
Wedding 2 of 2
After checking the bayou off the list, I took the train to Urbana, Illinois for Adam and Sarah’s wedding.
It was great to be with my old friends from the Greenhouse Coop, and it was also great to reunite with corn and soy. Thanks to Cheryl and her peeps at La Casa for their hospitality. I really wanted to complete the final step of graduate school (a graduation party at my adviser’s house) but my adviser moved to Colorado. Now I must go to Fort Collins to obtain closure. In the meantime, I obtained what closure Urbana would give me by running my old loop, walking my old route to the lab, getting caught in a thundershower, and gazing at the stars from the same place as my very first night in Illinois, still wondering my purpose in life.
End of Wedding Tour