Days 7–8 | Trek Days 2–3: Chheplung to Monjo to Namche Bazar

I step outside with a gasp. Earlier, I woke at 5:30am to the sounds of rushing river, birds and chortling of the lodge owners baby. The smell of burning wood in the air. I looked through lace curtains to see the sparkling stars fading in the growing light. Mountain ridges defined themselves as the sun rises. I eventually dress and make my way down steep wood stairs to the lodge’s dining room. Ngnima (I’ve discovered I have been spelling his name wrong) hands me a cup of hot black tea as I step outside. “Oh!” I say to myself at the first sight of jagged Himalayan peaks reaching into the morning blue sky to our north, the direction of our journey. A rich, green forested valley spreads out before me leading the way. Lodges and shacks dot the hillsides on property edged by stone walls. Here and there waterfalls pour down the rugged mountainsides.

Breakfast was a cheese omelette, doughy pancake with honey—and tea. Milk tea this time—delicious, rich and sweet. We gather our belongings as the baby giggles and entertains us before we set off. We stroll on the dirt and rocky path through villages and countryside keeping a close eye on the piles of dung that dot the way. We pass trekkers and natives carrying heavy bundles on their backs. Pack animals slowly plod along as their herders whip them with thin branches. We cross steel suspension bridges sagging by their own weight over the beautiful jade blue-green-gray roaring Dudh Kosi river. We pass boulders with “om mani padme hum” painted large and small. Stone tablets carved over and over with the same sacred prayer. They’re gorgeous and I can’t stop taking pictures of them. I want to slip one in my day pack like an iPad. It’s hard to know where to look because there is so much to see and I try hard to avoid self whiplash. I want to burn every vista and every feeling into memory.

Lunch was in the village of Phakding. A high-carb meal of roasted potatoes and pasta with cheese and vegetables. I’ve realized that the Nepali’s do potatoes quite well. I figure they have been fried or roasted in butter (yak?) and pleasantly salty. And, yes you guessed it, tea. Lemon again that we sipped in a courtyard bursting with marigolds in the afternoon sun. As you may have figured out, tea is a part of life on this journey. Our guide books suggested this as a way to say hydrated without worrying about the microbial hazards of untreated local drinking water and without carrying pre-filled plastic bottles that are not easily disposed of in the Khumbu. So we drink tea. Much of it at Ngima’s insistence. Lots and lots of it until we practically slosh our way along the trail. I like tea so it’s not an issue and I enjoy the morning ritual and daily stops as we catch our breath and rest our feet.

Upon finishing a six hour stroll through stunning countryside, we reach our next village, Monjo. In the fading light of afternoon, we unpack at the pleasant Hotel Mini Tibet lodge for the night which we share with Germans, Swiss, and Americans from L.A. More sherpa stew for dinner by candlelight as the lights faded in and out with the electrical “load shedding” process of shifting power from one community to another.

After passing out at by a staggering 8:30 the night before, I again stir to the sound of rushing river along with wood smoke and the mumbling voices of a waking village. Full from another breakfast of omelette and pancake, we pack up and head out for our next destination of Namche Bazar. The trail to Namche is roughly 1900 feet. Most of it straight up. Up stone steps through pine and rhododendron forest, the trail was busy this day with many trekkers and porters. Sharp horned jopkyos (a cross between a cow and a yak) carry heavy loads as they deftly maneuver the stone steps and steep paths. Bells on their necks jangle like Christmas and alert you to move out of the way and step up trail — or they just won’t stop. Although I’m sure my pre-trip preparation on the Stairmaster helped, I couldn’t help but feel my heart would explode at times as we climbed up and up, sweating and panting as if trying to catch my last breath. But each step was rewarding with a new panorama to greet us. At a brief rest stop for water, we have our first glimpse of Everest. The bottom of it anyway since the top is shrouded in clouds. I worry for our porter, Subaas, carrying all our crap on his back supported by his forehead. But he is clearly able and accustom to the altitude, barely breathless as he swiftly passes us by.

With 3 hours of climbing, our final leg was slow and winded, heart pounding with effort to keep up and adjust to our first taste of thinning air. There were many butterflies escorting us to Namche—elegant black with white edging, bright lemon yellow, and glowing yellow-orange with black spots. The sound of jopkyo bells lead the way into town and on wobbly legs we reached our fanciest lodge so far, the Khangri Hotel. We have our own bathroom with a flushing toilet—what luxury! And we can take a shower. The first in 3 days and the last in many more.

I’ve thought a few times on this trip that, although I am so far from home and what I know, I feel very at home in myself. Maybe it’s the mountains and the smell of pine. Maybe it’s the kindness of the people. Maybe it’s the excitement of new adventure. But I don’t feel far from where I’m suppose to be.

Photos from this trip can be viewed here.