Himalayan Quest

21-Descent

Saturday, May 12

21-Descent

Adam left Dzongka early, walking cautiously in the snow. He remembered visiting Manhattan once when it snowed in March and he had tried moving at his usual quick pace, then found himself slipping and falling on his rear. Adam already had more than his share of challenges on this trek, without adding possible damage from a tumble in the new drifts.

His parka and poncho covered two other layers, and wool socks kept his feet warm. His boots crunched with each step. He glanced at the white-dusted yaks as he passed them. Despite the freak storm, summer approached. They would graze contentedly again once the recent snow layer melted. And they all looked like they had a few hundred extra pounds to spare. Adam wasn't worried that they'd go hungry.

After about half an hour, he reached the valley's edge, where the Dudh Nadi flowed as it turned and descended toward the Ganges Plain. He had begun walking at first light, before sunrise. Only now could he see the early rays strike the mountain peaks to the west.

This is gorgeous. Like it's the biggest bowl of vanilla ice cream all lit up around me.

He smiled.

It's a little too early in the day for dessert.

Adam had eaten a large amount of dahl bhat the night before. His hosts had made a small feast, augmented by his gift of rice and lentils from Kathmandu. He had shared his thanks and said goodbye before turning in later.

The tea he drank along with dinner had been delightfully warm. Maybe the yak milk added to it had also been heated to keep it steaming hot. But he had a lingering concern.

I hope that the water and milk were both boiled long enough to be pasteurized and free of live bacteria. Don't want my bowels emptying all day,

This early, it was cold. He paused just a few moments to watch the sun's arrival, then headed down, this time staying on the river's west side, hopefully avoiding all suspect bridges. He hadn't needed breakfast, since he had eaten so much last night. It felt good to be moving.

Adam made good time and dropped elevation quickly. His shoulder felt fine and his legs had always been strong. He moved easily.

Gratefully, there was no more precipitation. He started in on an appropriate tune, something he did more easily going downhill.

"I love to go a-wandering, a-wandering near and far. And as I go, I love to sing, with my knapsack on my back. Funiculi, funicula, funiculi, funicula-hah-hah-hah-hah!"

Where did that come from? Some movie, or was that something I learned while hiking with my European friends? Sounds Italian, but I can't remember. Doesn't matter. It just feels good to sing. Have to grab my guitar again when I get back to Kathmandu.

The snow thinned out, then soon disappeared, replaced by mud. Adam walked on the drier edges of the trail, rather than its lower center, where more snowmelt had increased the ooze.

He paused after an hour for water, still not feeling hungry. But he knew he was burning up calories, so he downed a little trail snack and chewed on a stick of jerky. Some protein would sustain his energy.

The sun broke through scattered clouds, warming him intermittently. He walked through an unexpected bamboo forest, surprised by the chattering of some monkeys he could not see.

Adam covered many miles, moving easily. With gravity to aid his progress going downhill, he flew. He paused briefly to shed a layer as he descended. He crossed some small creeks, hopping atop large boulders dried by the sun that kept him above the stream's flow, so he had no bridges to negotiate. He concentrated on his footing, making sure that each rock he chose was free of moisture.