To the Gompa and Beyond (7 June)

Some people feel the rain.  Others just get wet.  ~Bob Marley

Seriously, I have to get out of the van now?

In my opinion, there are few things more wonderful in all of life than sleeping in a tent far from roads and wires -- all dry and cozy -- on a stormy night.  That made last night rate right up there as one of the best ever.  Overnight the winds howled and the rains came.  Luckily, our tent seems to be fairly-well waterproof, and we slept soundly with the exception of our Diamox-driven ventures out into the weather. When it wasn't raining, the skies seemed so full of stars as to hardly be real.  It was like being nestled in a planetarium where the conditions were perfect for sky-gazing.  Oh, how very lucky are we?

And while I will admit to thinking “Please don’t let us have the Pennine Way curse (of rain most everyday),”  the day ahead stayed dry (though cloudy). We departed Camp 1 shortly after breakfast, bound for the valley that leads to our first 17,000+ pass (in three days time).  It was another short van ride to launch our next leg, acclimatization now over, we're on foot after this.  

Freshly harvested caterpillar fungus for sale

Our van ride took us through Damzhung, once a tiny village supporting nomads (Gary actually remembers this), now a sprawling main street of garaged vendors -- and our first exposure to the Caterpillar Fungus trade.  This cordyceps gold rush is at least part of what has warped wages in Tibet.  So profitable is the annual harvest of these mountain-growing, fungi-mummified stalks, that many Tibetans have abandoned their traditional trades in favor of the annual Caterpillar Fungus harvest.  In Damzhung, profiteers were selling the Cheeto-looking (crunchy Cheetos that is) dried forms everywhere on the street -- though the real customers are the Chinese merchants who buy them for wholesale to Chinese retailers who then promote use of the fungus as a traditional cure for everything from asthma to impotence.  Note: Used for centuries in traditional medicine, it is the burgeoning Chinese Middle-Class that has driven demand in the past decade.

Kyangra Gompa

We started our walk to Camp Two at the Kyangra Gompa, where we were surprised to receive blessings and Khatas from the resident monks. The dimly-lit, surprisingly warm gompa (Tibetan monastery/ temple) was filled with the scent of the butter lamps and incense.  And of course, the way to the gompa was down a steep path (seriously, a path!) to a road, then up a multitude of steps to the structure.

Happily, our visit coincided with that of three Tibetan teenagers making offerings and saying prayers. Like most of the Tibetans we’ve met, they were bashfully delighted by the opportunity to interact and speak a little English. Cliff got their picture as they departed, all three on one tiny motor scooter.  And from their gifts, they gave Gary a lovely bunch a bananas.  My thought is that no matter how little a Tibetan may have, there is always enough to share. 

The rolling terrain of today's hike

The walk today was another opportunity to test our legs and lungs trekking at high altitude. Coming down from the gompa (located at ~14,500'), we climbed back up to some 15,000 feet and trod up and down the ridges of a high plain for the afternoon.  The ground around our stomping boots was a flurry with ground birds and darting pika.  On the final leg into the camp we tripped across a delightful colony of marmots -- fat, unhurried and curious of us.  Gary explained that marmots are members of the ground squirrel family, as are groundhogs.  As they rushed to their burrow openings, then sat up studying our progress, we found their resemblance to their Pauxautawney cousins comically evident.   

Late in the afternoon we arrived at Camp Two.  The trekking pace is slow and distances short, but we’re all beat after four hours exertion at this altitude. Within a breath of our arrival, the camp staff brings us tea and biscuits, followed by wash water (the routine each trekking day).  Comfortably sated and feeling refreshed, we all succumb to napping before dinner. And the sun, mostly in clouds throughout the day, finally broke out to create a most lovely sunset glow in the dinner tent that evening.  Perhaps best of all: My headache is gone.

Arriving at Camp Two under cloudy skies

Fun to know: Wash water also is delivered to our tents each morning within thirty minutes of "bed tea" (or coffee).  The wash water -- usually warm -- is poured from an insulated container into a shallow stainless steel bowl.  It is our equivalent of a daily bath.  And eschewing the mountain man look, Cliff uses that water to shave each morning.

Looking back on Damzhung from Camp Two