We’re at 12,860 ft. huddled in a lodge hiding from the howling afternoon winds. We have slowed our trekking to only 3 hours a day in order to acclimatise and not run out of breat in the thin air. In truth, we can’t complain about being forced to stop hiking before our muscles ache and drink tea in a cosy lodge enjoying the panoramic mountain vistas.
The landscape has become mostly barren since around 11,000 ft. leaving just scraggly shrubs for the mountain goats and the occasional sheltered pine trees. Locals walk for hours to return with baskets of firewood slung on their backs and all supplies need to be carried by donkeys or people for a week to reach here. The term vegetable is synonymous with potato or bitter greens; fruit means apple, and other ingredients can sit in storage for upwards of 2 years. The only color in this drab landscape are the fluttering Bhuddist prayer flags and painted stone domes. Standing over it all are dozens of the tallest mountains in the world, a sight that never ceases to amaze and drives us further up the trail.
Leave a Reply