My Himalayan Trekking Adventure: Thansing – Lamuney – Lake Samiti

Today is Sunday, May 11, 2014. We have spent the night at Thansing, inside the hut. First thing in the morning, Ravi takes me for a closer view of the great Kangchendzonga. We hike for a bit, and there she is, lighted up by the morning sun. A grand beauty. So breathtaking.

Ravi and Mt Kangchendzonga

The weather is nicer today with the sun out. We relax. The hike from Thansing to Lamuney is short and easy compared to all the other stretches. This is also because we leave most of our gear at the hut in Thansing. The groundskeeper keeps the room for us under lock and key.

Lamuney is a wide open field with a small hut. We have brought two of our tents with us. Evening approaches and it is chilly. There is the six of us, and there are also two other groups of trekkers – a team of two and another team of six to eight, all young men.

The cooks begin to make dinner and I try to keep warm. It’s not easy to stay warm if you’re not moving. We hang out on a wooden ledge in the hut, which is used by the cooks and porters as a sleeping area. A few of them are taking a nap right now.

After sunset, temperatures drop, and it begins to snow. We are scheduled to leave at 3:30 a.m. to make our final ascent. I wonder to myself if the snow will stop, and whether we will go at all. What if we get snowed in, I wonder. We stay inside the hut, all huddled up on the ledge - our bed. We fall asleep.

We have taken the cooks’ and porters’ sleeping area. They are the nicest and kindest people I have ever met. Humble and patient - they make these treks possible. They sleep on the ground below us. It is a cold and windy night. I am in and out of sleep. It is silent except for the howling wind. Everyone is wrapped up like a mummy. Forget about using the toilet right now.

Me - ready for Goecha La

I wake when the cooks stir to make tea and breakfast for us. It is almost 3:00 a.m. Ravi goes outside to check out the snow. It has stopped snowing. There is little accumulation, and we can proceed. Our cook pours some tea into my thermos. I will take it with me.

I have all possible layers of clothing on me, and I still feel the chill. I take my cross-body bag with my camera, aspirin, and thermos inside. I am ready to go, mostly because it is so cold and I want to get moving. The moon is out, and I feel giddy with nervous anticipation.

Samiti Lake

We walk across the open Lamuney field and start climbing - cautiously. We will ascend from 4,300m (14,100ft) to 5,000m (16,400ft) within 3.5 hours. It is 4:00 a.m. It is dark, cold, and the path is narrow and rocky. It is hard work, reminding me of the tough climb to Dzongri.

We pass Samiti Lake. A little treasure sleeping nestled among some hills. It is a shade of cool blue before the sunrise. I stop to admire the view.

Next: Goecha La – Lamuney – Kokchurong.

Unhappy with being unhappy, and what this had to do with my Himalayan trekking adventure

And the time came when I would have to become a bit of a philosopher in my life. I never liked the subject in college. I didn’t understand any of it. And it made me unhappy. But, seriously, I wanted to know, how to be happy.

I asked myself, what makes me happy? Nothing. Really, I’ve got nothing. Let me look up the definition. Happy, according to Google, is when you feel pleasure or contentment. Hmm. Physical type of pleasure, as in a happy ending? Oh dear. So then happiness must be temporary.

Contentment, that does not sound like happiness to me. Smiling, that’s a sign of happiness. What makes me smile? A raise. Winning the lottery. A new car. Oh boy, this happiness is just plain sad.

Let’s go back to the definition and see what the synonyms reveal: cheerful, merry, joyful. Ok, yes, I feel happiness there.

Let’s keep going: carefree, untroubled. Yes, I think that’s more like it. And more: in good spirits, lighthearted, buoyant, radiant, sunny! Wow, I want happiness. Now!

And we have more: thrilled, elated, exhilarated. And even more: in seventh heaven, on cloud nine, on top of the world! Yes, that’s happy! How do I get it?!

The human being loves signs and symbols. A concept immediately understood. No explanation necessary. On top of the world. Me – on top of the world. Happiness. I must go . . . trekking in the Himalaya.

So, I went. You know how they say, money doesn’t bring you happiness. I had an inkling by now that this must be true. Happiness isn’t outside of me at all. It isn’t more money. Then where is it?

It is a care-free, un-troubled, light-hearted state of mind. It doesn’t mean that I don’t have troubles, like a rusty car, a leaky faucet, a broken tooth, or a broken heart. So long as I attempt to reach that point where everything is “whole” again, happiness will continue to elude me.

Everything is in constant flux. We know about atoms. Constant movement. Earth revolves. Seasons change. I change. I cannot keep things unchanged. In fact, keeping things the same, means life cannot continue. It stops.

Goecha La: On top of the world

So, when I try to control things, that’s when I cause my own unhappiness. I cut myself off from the natural flow of things. I constrain. I block. I stop growing. In order to be happy, there must be change, revolution and evolution in my life. Movement, flexibility, flow.

Although I did pursue happiness symbolically by trekking the Himalaya, I know I don’t need to be physically present there to be happy. But then again, maybe happiness is a physical experience too, like a breath of fresh air. A constant renewal.

Yes, happiness is a state of mind . . . body and spirit.

My Himalayan Trekking Adventure: Dzongri – Kokchurong – Thansing

It is Saturday, May 10, 2014 - the fourth day of our trek. I am not in tune with the days as prescribed by the calendar though. That it’s the weekend, has no meaning to me. I have no deadlines. I am up with the sunrise, and what matters is that we make it to our destination before sunset. I like this break from stiff work hours.

We have breakfast, and the usual accompanying beverage of chai - hot milk and tea. We pack up and tidy up trying not to leave any trash behind. I wrap my knee for extra support, and I am ready to go. Ah, and don’t forget the backpack. It’s back on. Today, we are headed for Thansing via Kokchurong. It will be a 4 to 6 hour trek at approximately the same altitude. 

I start my day off by tripping over some ropes which tie together a couple of mules. My pack pulls me forward as I fall, but I am okay. Get up and keep going. The ascent here is minimal compared to the other two days. We are trekking through an open hillside. I realize at some point that Ravi and another member of our group have separated from the rest of us, and I have separated from the remainder. I know I can’t catch up with Ravi. I look back, no one is there. I look around and I wonder if I’m on the right path.

It is different here. I am in the middle of an open field, and there is more than one path. I keep going, I hear the familiar jingling of bells, and I see a herd of yaks coming my way. I figure I’m going in the right direction, but I am not certain. I don’t want to keep going by myself. Just to be sure, I stop and wait for the rest of my group to catch up. I rest next to a big boulder and have some water, hoping I will see them soon. I tell myself, they will be here soon.

Kokchurong

A few minutes and a few yaks later, thank goodness, I see them. I am relieved. Trekking is as much an individual challenge as it is a team effort. You can only trek as fast as the slowest person. We pick up again and move on. It is a long and steep climb down to Prek Chu River requiring focus. We descend over big rocks and windy corridors. I have learned that where there is a descent, there will soon be an ascent. We reach Kokchurong. 

It turns out that we have missed Ravi. We rest, have some water and snacks, take a few photos, and get ready to move when Ravi shows up. He has gone to Thansing, left his pack, and has come back to meet us. We get going again. We cross the river over a bridge and begin the next section of our trek.

It will be a shorter hike, but it will be a little more challenging. We will be trekking through oversized ancient boulders, and a misty forest of trees tall like skyscrapers, or maybe they just seem that way. I feel like I am in a magical Himalayan forest. It is another world indeed.

It is a tiring trek up to Thansing over many rocks of various sizes. It is cool and damp here, but we stay warm from the effort. I get a headache and try to remember where I may have put my medicine. I have to take my pack off and search through all the pockets. Frustrating. Finally, found it. Strap the pack back on, and get going again.

The "mammoth" boulder

A boulder draped in brown moss welcomes us to Thansing. It looks like a mammoth to me. It is much taller than I am. We make our way to the wooden hut where we’ll be spending the night, and unload our things. The six of us will be sharing one room. There are other rooms in this hut, and other trekkers are staying here. There isn’t much to do except hang out. It is cloudy and chilly, and you have to keep moving to stay warm. We have a nice close up view of Mount Pandim from this location.

Mt Pandim from Thansing

Some of us are attracted to the kitchen which is in a nearby hut. The cooks have started a fire. We huddle around and warm up. The smoke permeates our clothing. It is nice to get the chill out. After dinner, we get ready for bed and get all wrapped up in our sleeping bags. The night is chilly. Tomorrow, we head for Lamuney, our last camp before we hike up to Goecha La – the highest point and the highlight of the trek.

Next: Lamuney – Goecha La – Thansing

My Himalayan Trekking Adventure: Dzongri – A day of rest

Today is Friday, May 9, 2014. It is the third day of our trek. We have reached Dzongri. Altitude: 3,950m or 13,000ft. The campground is wide open, set amid some hills. The soil is dry and grayish-brown. There is a trekker’s hut behind our tents where other trekkers are spending the night, but we are staying in our tents.

Today is a day of rest. My body is a little stiff, and I am so happy that we won't be trekking today. Ravi isn't. He wants to be on the go. I stay in the tent for most of the day. The day is cloudy with some sunshine. It is foggy at times. When the sun comes out, I take off my socks to warm my feet. I doze in and out for most of the day. Ravi peeks in and says, don’t sleep. No, no, I’m not sleeping. Just resting my eyes.

I come out of the tent and take a little hike for some privacy. I pass by some mules grazing lazily. The trees here are more stout than tall, and there is more shrubbery – a sign of high altitude. I walk along a bubbling stream and admire little Himalayan flowers, and shorter in stature magnolia trees. I notice some trash amid shrubbery, a sign of humans. There aren’t any trash cans (or dust bins, as they are called here) along the trek, so I am used to the idea of carrying my own trash now. I see unknown-to-me mountains in the distance.

I return to the tent and try to recall the events of the trek so far. So much has happened. I listen to bells jingling in the distance as mules walk back and forth. They make me sleepy. I notice a black sheep scoping out the grounds. A mule comes by our tent and snacks on some paper. The yaks return with the yakman and are resting now not too far from our tents. I too am resting.

Around 4:30 p.m., Ravi takes me for a little hike up Dzongri top. I am so lazy today, but I am here only once and I must go. We are going to try and view the sunset. We get to the top and we see our campground off in the distance. It looks so small from here. Winds are strong. Clouds roll in and out, bringing a little drizzle. We won’t be seeing the sunset.

Ravi on Dzongri Top

On every mountain top along the trek, there is a prayer shrine decorated with Tibetan prayer flags. I love the bright colored prayer flags and how they flutter in the wind. There is a shrine here too and Ravi makes his prayer. I ask him what he prayed for. He says, we’re not supposed to say, but I prayed for something good.

We are closer to heaven here. I feel so little in the presence of these tall, dignified mountains. Peace is solemn and overwhelming, more so than any church I have ever been to. The winds carry on. I feel grateful that I could be here at this moment. I send my own prayer off with the winds.

Tenzing Khang from Dzongri Top

We return to the campground, and I try to prepare myself mentally for tomorrow. I have a dull ache in my knee, and I decide that I will wrap it in the morning with some athletic tape. I ask Ravi if I could wash my hair. He looks at me as if to say, be serious. No, it’s too cold. My head wrap will stay on for the remainder of the trek.

Next: Dzongri – Kokchurong – Thansing

My Himalayan Trekking Adventure: Deorali Top – If I can make it there, I can make it anywhere

The weight of my pack is too much for me. Ravi has a full load himself. His pack probably weighs 3 times as much as my 10 kg pack. He takes half of my load. We continue on. I am grateful for some short stretches which are relatively flat although the ground itself is uneven and I have to stay alert.

We have just left Phedang. Next, we must climb over Deorali in order to get to Dzongri where we will camp for the night. Some elevations for comparison (from secondary and tertiary sources):

Chicago	176m (579ft)
Delhi	216m (709ft)
Bengaluru	920m (3,020ft)
Yuksom	1,780m (5,840ft)
Phedang	3,650m (12,000ft)
Deorali Top	4,100m (13,500ft)
Goecha La (1st viewpt)	4,600m (15,100ft)
Everest (N) Base Camp	5,150m (16,900ft)

Elevation of 1,500–3,500m (4,900–11,500ft) is considered high altitude. Every little increase in altitude makes it so much more difficult for the body to perform. This is my second day in high altitude. Everyone’s body is different and it may take days for it to adjust to functioning on less oxygen. This little hill will push my limits.

I feel like I am moving in slow motion. I am. Ravi is a few steps ahead of me most of the time. I consider if turning around is an option. No, I am too tired to keep going at all. Up or down. Might as well keep going up. I could die here. We are too far from civilization if I needed urgent care. I have to do this. No one else will do this for me. I am doing this. I am.

And thus the name of my blog: I say I am. Despite what others may say - including my own doubt and fear that I can't, that I won't, or that I'm not - I say I am. I move so slowly. I stop every 2 minutes to catch my breath. Everything is heavy. There is suffocating pressure on my chest. If only I could come out of my body. It's holding me back. 

I have to sit and rest every 20 minutes. Every 10 minutes. I don’t move very far in 10 minutes. When will this awful incline end. It is sandy, stony, grey. Shrubbery here and there. No more trees. I could be on the moon. Ravi is a few steps ahead of me. At my rate, he is a million miles away. He says, come on, let's go. I'm too wiped out to feel the irritation I usually feel when I hear him say, let's go.

I am sitting on a jagged stone. More like leaning against it so that it holds up the weight of my pack. Waiting for my breath to slow down. I look at Ravi. Yeah, I know, I see you. I will move when it's humanly possible for me. But my breath never quite recovers. 2 minutes. I can’t sit here more than 2 minutes. I know what the rush is. The sun is setting. It is dusk. Hard to see now. It will be completely dark before we reach Dzongri. We will have to maneuver our way through the dark. I know this, but I can't move any faster.

I sit on this stone thinking about that Bengali tiger a coworker joked about. I could be eaten alive right now. No, maybe a bear. Ravi says Phedang is known for Himalayan bears. Or maybe a vulture. I look at the sky to see if anything of the sort might have its eye on me. I have absolutely no extra strength at this moment. I can't run. I am barely sitting up. To die by suffocation. Helpless. I can't keep sitting. My breath will not recover quickly enough for this. It will be dark soon. I move.

I reach the top. We have to put our headlamps on. I make a note to myself to bring a more robust lamp next time. We walk silently. Complete darkness surrounds us. The path is level now. I see . . . light. Ravi sees it too. Someone is coming our way. Who is it? It is our cook. He meets us. He was worried about us and has come looking for us. Ravi asks the cook to take my pack from me. He takes it from me and puts it on one shoulder like it’s a feather. I am too drained to have any type of reaction to this.

I am walking. Or am I floating. I could be a ghost. We reach the camp at 6:30 p.m. I see our tents are up. I am so grateful. I climb into the tent, take my boots off, and lie down in a fetal position and rest my head on my pack. Ravi comes by in a few minutes and says you have to eat. What? I am resting now. The cook comes over with dinner. I prop myself up and eat, but I really don't have much of an appetite right now.

I have to take my sleeping bag out. Everything is a chore. Pee. I have to pee. I don’t know these grounds. It is so wide open here. I go straight ahead in the middle of an open field and turn off my headlamp. I return to the tent and fall asleep for a few hours. I have to pee again. I feel a little rested. I unzip the tent and I see a full moon. Wow. So still and silent. I almost don’t need the headlamp. I return to the tent and fall asleep again.

Next: Dzongri – A day of rest.

My Himalayan Trekking Adventure: Ha, and you thought the first day was tough!

I feel the sun rising and I wake up early. I am tired of sliding down all night due to the incline we’re on, and I can’t wait to get out of my sleeping bag. It feels really damp in the tent, too. I put on my boots and go up a hill behind some trees and shrubbery for some privacy. I come down and look at the view.

View from Bakhim toward Yuksom

This is one of the moments I remember very clearly. I am in a different world. It feels sacred. Silent. No cars. No airplanes. Even no people. Everyone is still asleep, except for an owl that was hoo-hoo hooting all night. She is keeping me company. We came this way. Hill after hill after hill. I enjoy this moment so much. The sun feels good, slowly drying the dampness out of me.

Bakhim campground

I see our cook is up and he sees me on the hill. People start to wake and stir. I see Ravi and he sees me and smiles. There are more trekkers who are staying inside the trekkers hut. We camped outside, next to the hut. Now, there is more foot traffic as people look for toilet privacy, that is, a good tree, or shrubbery in my case.

We take our things out of the tents and lay them out to dry. Everything feels damp. We eat breakfast, wash the dishes, pack up, and it’s time to get going again. It is 9:30 a.m. My body feels fine, but I’m not enjoying the weight of the backpack. Up. It’s the only way.

Today will be a long day. Although the distance we cover will be short, just 10km (6mi), we will make significant gains in altitude. From Bakhim (2,750m, 9,022ft), we will trek through Tsokha (2,900m, 9,500ft) through Phedang (3,650m, 12,000ft) over the Deorali Top (4,100m, 13,500ft) to Dzongri (3,950m, 13,000ft).

Tsokha

We make it to Tsokha within a couple of hours. Tsokha used to be a settlement for Tibetan refugees. It is silent and misty. This is the last village on this trek. It is cloudy or perhaps we are in the clouds. We rest at a wooden hut for a few minutes. I take a break from my backpack, have some water, and snack on some biscuits. And before long, it’s time to go again. Up. The village dog follows us for some distance.

Tsokha toward Phedang

Tsokha to Phedang is a longer stretch. It is getting tougher or maybe I am just getting tired. I am sweaty from the effort. Stopping for longer than a couple of minutes gives me a chill though. It is damp and cool. Must keep moving. I move much slower than Ravi. Often, I hear him urge me on very nicely, let’s go. I want to take breaks. Reluctantly, he agrees. The path is rocky and uneven, and, on occasion, very steep. I make a mental note to myself, next time bring only half the things.

Phedang seems so far away. We hear people ahead of us. They are up above. Have we reached Phedang?! No, it is only a clearing where a couple trekkers are taking a short break. We ask them how far to Phedang. We are only halfway there. I want to rest longer, but I know we can’t. I bite my tongue and keep moving.

While I was preparing for the trek, I remember reading about high altitude sickness and how, on the way to Dzongri, a girl got sick and had to descend to lower altitude. This was in the back of my mind all along as I was trekking, and I was continually monitoring myself for any signs: headache, dizziness, nausea and vomiting.

We take another break. Several mules and a couple porters are returning from Phedang. They are coming down the rocky path as we make our way up. One mule stops, and absolutely refuses to move. The porter tries to get the mule to go, but the mule is not having it. The porter says the mule has high altitude sickness. I understand. If it were me, I also would not move. The porter gives up and continues on, leaving the mule behind. These animals know the route inside and out. He will be ok. We must get going.

As we approach Phedang, the rocky, uneven path is so steep. It could be a wall. I am exaggerating, but it is hard work getting there. Slow, careful, and deliberate. I am relying on my walking sticks a lot, which Ravi let me borrow for the duration of the trek. They are a life saver. At last, we reach Phedang. A small trekkers hut is here. It is empty at the moment. Some candy wrappers are left behind, a sign of people who must have left not too long ago.

It is definitely much cooler here. No sun. Damp. I take my pack off.  It feels nice to give my shoulders a break. We have lunch. I am starting to get cold. I try to convince Ravi that we should spend the night here. I feel like I’ve exhausted all my energy reserves. My pack feels like a ton of bricks. No. We can’t stay here. Our gear is on our yaks and they are headed for Dzongri. We have to get going again. It is already mid-afternoon and we are still far from Dzongri. I put my pack on, and in a few steps, I can’t. I tell Ravi, I can’t. It is too heavy. It is my turn to play the mule.

Next: Deorali Top – If I can make it there, I can make it anywhere.

My Himalayan Trekking Adventure: This is hard

Today is Wednesday, May 7, 2014, and this is the day we begin our Goecha-la trek in the Khangchendzonga National Park. I’ve been in India for exactly three days now, and I am grateful for every day that I wake up feeling healthy and unaffected by the 10 hour time difference and my new diet of Indian food.

The rains have passed and it is a pleasant and sunny day. At 8:00 a.m., we are served a light breakfast at the hotel. There are 6 of us in total, 3 males and 3 females. Ravi can’t wait to get going, so the two of us begin to head toward the check post and park entry point where we will have to present our permits. I am wearing my hiking boots, long hiking slacks, and, last but not least, I have my pack strapped on. It weighs around 10 kg.

We walk just a few minutes and reach the check post, a small hut. There, a young woman sits behind a desk with some documents in front of her. A large map and a poster decorate the otherwise bare walls. We present our permits and register each of our names in a large book. Many people before us have registered their names in this book and trekked this route.

The rest of our group catches up, and we are ready to go. We have started late. Noon is close and the day is getting hotter. Even before we are too deep into the trek, I begin to feel the heat of my black pants and hiking boots. We begin climbing almost immediately. I am feeling the load on my shoulders. It is not easy to climb with weight on your back.

We are still at relatively low altitude though. Yuksom is situated at approximately 1,700 meters or 5,500 feet altitude. We will steadily climb over a period of 6 days to an altitude of 4,940 meters or 16,200 feet. Our aim is to view the sacred Khangchendzonga mountain from as close as possible. On the way back, we will turn around and descend almost the same way we went up, except the hike down will take only 2 days.

We trek slowly. I am hot. My back is sweaty. The weight of my pack feels uncomfortable. But, the serene beauty is incomparable. The trees are grand in stature. There is a feeling of majestic presence. Ancient evergreen trees. Magnificent magnolia trees. Shades and shades of green.

The trekking path is very narrow at times. We share it with yaks and mules, which are carrying our - and other trekkers' - tents, cooking gear, and food supply. The yak is a big animal that can carry a heavy load, easily climbing the rocky path. They seem slow and sluggish, but they move much faster than we do. We hear the bells on their necks as they approach. When they are close, we scramble off to the side to let them through. Three, four, or five in a row. They don’t stop for us. They are coming through.

We stop a couple of hours into our trek to rest and eat. I am happy to take my pack off. It feels so good to take it off. But it’s almost better to leave it on than to feel the weight of it press down on me when I strap it on again. And we are back on the trail again. It is a 6 hour trek to Bakhim, the destination for today.

We will cover 14 km or 8 miles and we will cross four bridges. As we approach each bridge, the air cools and feels more damp. The trail becomes rocky and steeply descends. I know when we will be crossing the 4th bridge before we get there. After we cross the bridge, the rocky path steeply ascends. Slow and steady. I will get through it. After this, we get to rest for the night.

Ravi on 4th bridge

Evening approaches and we are close to Bakhim. Our cook has arrived to the camp before us – as he will each time – and has set up the tents for us. I am happy to take my pack off. My shoulders are sore. I look for a place to pee, but this area is pretty open and I have to climb a little to find a good place. Girls have it more difficult. Finding a private spot to squat down with your pants down is not easy.

My body immediately starts to cool down as soon as I stop moving. I am getting chilled now. I want to change from my sweaty t-shirt. I climb into the tent, change and try to wipe the sweat off my body with a wet wipe. This will be the extent of my hygiene during the trek. We eat and go to sleep. I fall asleep without a problem but find myself sliding down during the night as the ground is on an incline. It is a cool and damp night. I wonder how my body will feel in the morning.

Next:  Ha, and you thought the first day was tough!

My Himalayan Trekking Adventure: Certainly, nothing is for certain

It is Tuesday, May 6, 2014. We are in Gangtok, the capital of Sikkim. It was a windy road up to Gangtok. The city is up, up high. This morning, Ravi and his friend are taking me to the city center so that I may obtain my trekking permit. Right off the bat we are climbing many stairs to get to the main street. And then climb some more again. These guys walk fast and climb even faster. I am getting winded. I think I will keep that to myself. 

It is busy in the streets. Many people and school children are walking to their destinations. I see dogs relaxing. No, they are sleeping - right in the middle of a busily traversed walkway. All the foot traffic doesn’t bother these animals. I am amazed that they don’t even flinch. I think to myself that this would never happen in Chicago. And then I think that the dogs must feel very safe here.

Ravi in Gangtok

We stop at a travel agency for information. No luck here. We are sent to the main tourism office, but the director has not arrived yet. We must come back later. No permit. No trek. What will happen, I wonder. I am in good spirits though. I am so happy to be in India. Whatever happens, happens. We go back to the hotel and pass some time there. In a couple of hours, we are back again at the main tourism office. Ravi’s friend is making calls while Ravi and I sit and wait to see the director. I am sensing Ravi’s impatience. Finally, we are called in. 

Me in Gangtok

The director says, sorry, a foreigner must be accompanied by another foreigner on the trek. Nice man. But rules are rules. I know Ravi is frustrated now. Ravi’s friend is making more calls. I try to think what might happen next, but I’ve got no clue. Time slows down and I wonder if it is possible that I came all this way for nothing. But I have angels on this trip with me. In a few magic moments, a plan is conceived and carried out. I leave with my permit, and a smile on my face. I will get to trek. It was meant to be, after all.

We return to the hotel, pack up, and load up our jeep again. We have the same driver. He is taking us to Yuksom this afternoon. It is a 6 hour drive on a narrow and windy road. As we get closer to Yuksom, it starts to rain. Many potholes. We are driving slowly. It is night and I am tired. At last, we reach the hotel. It is still raining. The proprietors welcome us in, and prepare dinner for our group. As we unload our things in our room, the girls are focusing on something in the middle of the floor. It is a tiny leech that followed us inside. 

I remove some things from my pack so as to lighten my load and leave what is unnecessary at the hotel. But I have no idea which things are more important. They are all important to me. It is a cold and damp night. I fall asleep thinking, ready or not. Tomorrow we trek.

Next: This is hard.

My Himalayan Trekking Adventure: It’s nice to meet you, Ravi

I land in Bagdogra in the early afternoon on Monday, May 5, 2014. This airport is very small. We exit the airplane through the side doors down to the ground and board a shuttle which takes us to the terminal. It is hot. I am dressed in many layers plus my hiking boots. But I feel great. I am excited to meet my trekking mates. We are dropped off at the terminal. It seems that two flights have just arrived, and many people are cramped together waiting for their luggage. We wait for a few minutes when the luggage begins to trickle in.

I am still waiting on my pack. I wonder if it’s been lost. At last, here it is! I collect my pack, remove the duffel bag it’s in, and stuff it back inside my pack. I strap the pack onto my back and I walk out toward the exit, past the armed guard. It is so busy here. People are everywhere. Darn, I have to go to the bathroom, and it is in the area I just left!

I ask the guard nicely if I could please go back in to use the bathroom - called the toilet here. He is agreeable, no problem. Ah, the toilet. I have seen a similar one in Poland when I was a kid, actually, in a public park. One where you squat over an opening in the ground. It must have been an old installation there, built by the Germans. I have not seen one since. 

I text my mates notifying them that I have collected my bag and that I am ready. Rahul, one of my trekking mates and organizers of the trek, texts me to say that Ravi will be picking me up. I walk outside and a rickshaw operator has his eye on me right away. Taxi? Taxi? - he asks. No, thank you. I move back, off to the side and wait in the shade.

I take my pack off and set it down next to me. It is noisy out here. Old taxi cabs and auto-rickshaws are busily driving back and forth. Honking. Dust. Lots of honking. I smell incense. I see women dressed in traditional Indian outfits. I am definitely not in Chicago anymore. I am in India! I am thrilled. 

Ravi with my pack

Finally, I see Ravi walking toward me. I recognize him from his photos right away. I know he recognizes me, but it’s not difficult since I stand out like a sore thumb. I am excited to see him. I hug him. Later on, I realize my faux pas. It isn’t appropriate for me to display affection toward a male in public. Yet, it is not unusual to see men, who are friends, holding hands.

Inside the rickshaw

Ravi is accompanied by a friend, whom I won’t see again after this. We get into a rickshaw and head for Siliguri, a city which borders Bagdogra. It is about a 20 to 30 minute drive. I sit back in the rickshaw with Ravi next to me. People are in the street. Stray dogs. Cows lazily wander and graze here and there. The drive is stop-and-go. Honk-honk. Chaos. There are no seat belts. I glance over at Ravi and he is as relaxed as can be. I chuckle to myself, amused and amazed. I am in India.

We arrive at the hotel where the rest of our trekking mates are waiting and resting. They also arrived not too long ago from a long trip by train. Our trekking team will consist of 3 females including myself, and 3 males including Ravi. Ravi and another friend of his – who will not be trekking with us, but who will be a life-saver in the near future – take me to the Sikkim Tourism Office in town. As a foreigner, I must register with the state of Sikkim. I fill out the form, and the permit is granted.

We return to pack up the jeep with our gear and food canisters to take us to Gangtok, the capital of Sikkim. There is another permit which I, as a foreigner, am required to obtain so that I may trek through the protected National Park of Khangchendzonga. Gangtok is the only place where I may obtain this permit. It is not the most direct route to our ultimate destination – Yuksom – but we must take this route because of me.

We leave Siliguri late in the afternoon, around 4:30 p.m. It is a long and windy drive to Gangtok. We arrive approximately 6 hours later. We check into a hotel. The group is tired and hungry. The proprietors serve us dinner, we eat, and go to sleep. Tomorrow, I must obtain the permit allowing me to trek through the National Park of Khangchendzonga.

Next: Certainly, nothing is for certain.

My Himalayan Trekking Adventure: India, here I come

It is Saturday, May 3, 2014. I am in good spirits. My backpack is packed to the max, my hiking boots are on, and my passport is handy. It is a sunny day inside and out. I have been anticipating this moment for a long time. My co-worker and her husband offer to take me to the airport. I do not resist the idea too much. They send me off with hugs and best wishes, and I am grateful.

I am checking in with Air India at the Chicago O’Hare Airport for my direct flight to Delhi. I am a minority on this flight and I stand out in my trekking gear. My pack weighs exactly 10 kg on the scale. I am satisfied that it is the weight I’ve been aiming for.

The flight leaves on time. It will be 15 hours long, but it is nothing. I can’t wait to land in India. I feel most nervous during take-off, so I close my eyes until we are in the clouds. I feel surreal on this journey. Veg or non-veg, the flight attendant asks. Veg, for me.

I enjoy the airline food, surprisingly. The seats – not so much. It is as if all the cushioning had been removed, maybe to lighten the load, I think to myself. I have a window seat, and I feel a bit trapped. A young married couple shares the row with me. They are from Wisconsin, traveling back to visit their family. I sleep through much of the flight.

The movie selection is abundant, and I get to watch a movie which is yet another source of inspiration for me. The movie is “Bhaag Milkha Bhaag” or “Run Milkha Run.” It is based on a true story of an Indian athlete, Milkha Singh, who overcomes many obstacles and becomes a national champion runner and an Olympian. I take a deep breath and exhale. We are landing soon.

I arrive in Delhi on Sunday, May 4, 2014 at approximately 3:00 p.m., but I am not there yet. I have an 18 hour layover until my next flight to Bagdogra. The flight leaves the next day, on Monday morning. I do not venture out of the airport. I spend the night at one of the airport lounges at the Delhi Airport in a small private room with a shower. I have Wi-Fi, yes! But there isn’t much to do except to wash up, rest, and sleep.

I wake up at 6:00 in the morning and walk over to a coffee shop on the other side of the airport for a cup of coffee and pastry. This side of the airport is deserted. On the way, I stop at one of the ATMs and test out my bank card. Relief, it works! The young man at the coffee shop is eager to strike up a conversation. It is just me and him, and a few army men with shot guns patrolling this side of the airport.

The young man tells me about his double shifts and meager pay. The disparity becomes even more apparent when I pay much less for the coffee than I would in the States. To top this, it is still a good deal for me even though this coffee shop charges twice as much as one off airport premises would. I return to my room, pack up, check out, and walk over to the domestic side of the Delhi airport.

My flight is on time and I am early. I stroll across the terminal to admire a bronze statue of a baby elephant and its mama welcoming visitors to Delhi. It is busy here in domestic departures with people lining up to clear the security checkpoint. Women get patted down in a private area by female security guards, but I do not see many lone women travelers here, or foreigners for that matter. I see many businessmen with laptops and some families with children. Now, I am just a couple of hours away from meeting my trekking mates in Bagdogra/Siliguri.

Next: It's nice to meet you, Ravi.

My Himalayan Trekking Adventure: Am I going to . . . die?

Between September and May, I had a lot of time to think and read about trekking in India. The months were passing by rather quickly while I was comparing reviews on backpacks, sleeping bags, and hiking shoes. I was studying the route, the distances between camp sites, and the respective altitudes along the way.

In January, 2014, I applied for my visa to India. The process was relatively painless. Well, let’s just say that it was less painful than the physical exertion I would have to endure during the trek. After checklist on top of checklist, much fine print and circular instruction, my visa was granted! One obstacle – overcome.

There are a few people out there who have written of their trekking experiences. The more I submerged myself into the topic, the more real the trek became to me. And the more nervous I became. I found out about the possibility of high altitude sickness, leeches, and even earthquakes. 

As the trek approached, I was more seriously thinking about my physical fitness and that it might not be sufficient. I read that you should be able to run 3 miles in 30 minutes in order to be fit enough for a high altitude trek. The summer before, I had run a half-marathon so I had some training in building up stamina. I thought, ok, I can do this. But, I had never carried a backpack with a heavy load . . . uphill!

Around March, I purchased my pack, loaded it up with 2 gallons of water, and was off to test it out in my new hiking shoes on my favorite paved trail just outside of Chicago. As you can see, I am on completely flat ground at, essentially, sea level, which is not even close to resembling the conditions I will be facing on the trek. I walked several miles with my 16.5 lb / 7.5 kg load and my shoulders were killing me! My anxiety is increasing.

To add fuel to the fire, my friends are bewildered that I – a single female – would go off by myself to India to trek with a bunch of people I had never met. At the same time, while I am concerned about high altitude sickness and how one girl on the same trek had to turn around half way due to the illness, my co-workers are having their fun with me which I am not finding the least bit amusing. 

Miscellaneous insanity comes my way, such as that I will be raped or kidnapped, maybe both. I will be eaten by a Bengali tiger. That’s funny. Surely, I will catch some disease, such as malaria. Mosquitoes, you know. By now, my head is spinning. In addition, it turns out that my Facebook friend from Hong Kong will not be able to join us after all. It is April and the trek is one month away. Oh and Air India – the airline on which my flight is booked – is on strike! My anxiety reaches its peak.

Nevertheless, I have support from a few people when I need it most. A female co-worker is living my adventure through me and provides much appreciated encouragement from beginning to end. I also make friends on Facebook with a writer, Eddie Delezen. I find out, coincidentally, that he has written a memoir of his service in the Vietnam War. [You can find Eddie Delezen’s book here: http://www.amazon.com/Eye-Tiger-Memoir-Company-Vietnam-ebook/dp/B005UCELRQ/ref=tmm_kin_title_0?_encoding=UTF8&sr=&qid=] It may seem strange, but I find the book relevant to my upcoming adventure and it strengthens my courage. I read about how he and his mates ‘trek’ through dense jungles of Vietnam with immensely heavy weight on their backs while drinking putrid water and sleeping with one eye open. He survives. I think I will too.

Ravi, my trek organizer from India, stays cool as this trek is nothing new to him. I try not to bother him with my worries. If he is confident, then I should be too. I also draw on inspiration from my friend Satya, an engineer from India, who overcomes asthma and decides to fulfill his dream of climbing the seven summits of the world. [You can follow Satya here: https://www.facebook.com/MountaineerSatyarup] I tell Satya about my anxiety and he reassures me that it will be ok. I am ok. And most of all, I get the final seal of approval from my 77 year old mother, who has survived many things in her life, including war. She says, go. I am going.

Next: India, here I come.

My Himalayan Trekking Adventure: How I planted the seed

The idea came out of nowhere, seemingly, as is the case with inspiration. The idea comes and you forget how it came. Things unfold, one after the other, as if they had already been planned out for you. It was on September 17, 2013 that I found an article on trekking the Himalaya. I thought, wow, I’d like to do this. I shared the article on Facebook, and said, I would like to go, anyone interested? And that’s how my adventure began.

A Facebook friend who lives in Hong Kong said, I'm interested, and the conversation started. Through her, I met Ravi from India – a law student at the time, and a mountaineer at heart. He became our advisor and trek planner. I knew nothing about trekking and I had never been to India.

I couldn’t believe that this idea I put out there on a whim was actually taking root. My intuition said, this is going to happen. And it did. After a few minor hiccups testing my resolve - eight months from the date I planted the seed, I would find myself trekking in India.

We decided that May, 2014 would be the most suitable month for us. The trek would be to Goecha-la in the state of Sikkim in India. The route is located in the National Park of Khangchendzonga. Khangchendzonga is the third highest mountain in the world. She is sacred to the people of Sikkim. And I would be lucky enough to find myself in her presence.

Next: Am I going to . . . die?