Himalayan High Day 3

Today was our longest day because we were doing two days in one. It started at 4:30am. We woke-up and it was freezing in our room. I quickly got dressed trying to keep warm.  In Gorepani we were 2900 metres high but Poon Hill was another 300 metres up. I doggedly started the forty-five minute climb.  It wasn’t a hard climb, but that early in the morning I wasn’t feeling energetic. 

View from Poon Hill

Eventually, I made it to the top hoping to see amazing views of the Annapurna range and stay warm. It was 6am and freezing. A clever man was selling hot chocolate and tea for the outrageously expensive price of 200 rupees (3 dollars). The man must be turning a good profit considering rooms in a teahouse go for the same price! Good views are what we got, not great or excellent ones, and I felt disappointed. That feeling didn’t last long because I reminded myself I would be seeing the mountains close up very soon.  We went back to our guesthouse and had some breakfast. Then started the day again at 8:30am this time we were heading to Chomrong only 8 hours away! 

We had to climb a hill to leave Gorepani. Here we had excellent views of Macchupachre and Annapurna South. I thought these views were better than those at Poon Hill and most other trekkers agreed. Andrew was happily taking pictures. And he captured a great shot with prayer flags, rhododendron flowers and mountains—quintessential Nepalese scenery.

After a lovely walk through rolling trails and down stone steps, we stopped in Tarepani for lunch. We met up with a British couple in their mid-fifties. They had been to Nepal several times and this time they were doing a short trek to Chomrong. “We’re addicted to the mountains and the people,” the woman quipped. I could see why. The mountains, from the little I’d seen, were stunning and the people were amazingly friendly and generous to share their homes, food and beautiful natural landscapes with trekkers. The lady was impressed that Andrew and I had made it to Tarepani by 12pm and had already climbed Poon Hill. I asked if they were stopping at Tarepani, assuming they would be taking it easy, and was surprised when they said no. They would go to Chomrong. They looked fit and familiar with the mountains but still it’s hard work. I don’t know why the lady was impressed with us...I was far more impressed by her and her husband. 

So they left us and we quietly ate our lunch. Earlier at breakfast we said it wouldn’t be so bad if we stopped before Chomrong, but now while chewing granola, and watching the middle-aged couple march off to Chomrong, we felt we couldn't be outdone. After a few moments Andrew said, “There’s no way we’re stopping before Chomrong now. We’re younger; we have to do it.” I quietly smirked and nodded consent.

Forest trail to Tarepani

Pride is a powerful motivator. It got us down one and a half hours of stone staircases and pride motivated us up an hour of stone stairs and trails. In Nepal, I learned quickly, you have to go down to go up and vice versa. Again the scenery was marvelous. Overcast skies gave the valley and hills of terraced farms a mystic look. Those overcast skies quickly turned dark grey and threatened thunder showers. After several hours of trekking, the usual pains, sore calves and numb shoulders, had settled in my body. Could pride keep us going?

 When I wasn’t taking in the scenery, my mind occupied itself with several thoughts. First and foremost, I thought about Chomrong. It seemed like Chomrong would never come and the teahouses we passed  looked awfully inviting. Then, I thought about opening up a massage store somewhere on this trail, Chomrong perhaps? Then I moved on to pride and how I was no longer motivated by it. A clap of thunder interrupted my train of thought and that motivated me to move quickly for a good hour.

Even the threat of rain wore off and I found a better motivator: chocolate! Well, half a twix bar and ten minutes with my legs up got me through the last bit. We asked the shop owner how long it would take to get to Chomrong, he said an hour. At this point we figured we get caught in the rain but the sugar was starting to perk us up and we hustled to get to Chomrong. 

Foothills to Chomrong

After 30 minutes of quick walking, we saw a teahouse with the owner sitting outside. We asked her if this was Chomrong and she said yes and rooms are 200 rupees. We stayed there and collapsed on our bed. A minute later, thunder clapped again and rain poured down. I looked at Andrew and he said, “It’s times like these I really think there is a God.” I laughed. The day was over. 

Never underestimate the restorative powers of a hot shower and hot food. The shower at my Chomrong teahouse wasn’t luxurious: a concrete floor, tin walled room, solar power hot water, but it was the best shower I’d ever had as the warm water helped me forget the more persistent aches and pains of our longest day. The daal bhat, rightfully said to give Nepalis 24 hour power, was amazing. It is an endless meal, like the Indian thali, of lentil curry, stir fried green vegetables and rice. We ate well. We fell asleep with warm food in our bellies and to the metallic sound of rain pitter-pattering on the tin roof.