Up, Up Trekkkers (8 June)

(M)ountains, like all wildernesses, challenge our complacent conviction - so easy to lapse into - that the world has been made for humans by humans. Most of us exist for most of the time in worlds which are humanly arranged, themed and controlled. One forgets that there are environments which do not respond to the flick of a switch or the twist of a dial, and which have their own rhythms and orders of existence. Mountains correct this amnesia.  ~Robert Macfarlane

Morning at Camp Two -- Look at that blue sky

The yaks are here!!

Gary reviews the map with the yak men (+curious local herders)

The yaks arrive early on 8 June, along with three kind (and very curious of us) yak men. As we break camp, we stow everything within our duffels in additional plastic just in case our yak go wild (we've been warned they may try to roll our gear in the river).  Yak math:  How many yak do you need to carry gear for a trek of four people (hint: includes all supplies and gear for us, our support team, guides and yak men)?  Eleven.  The yak men show up with 15, although only 11 are contracted.  Four evidently are pack-yaks-in-training.

We depart camp at 10:00 a.m., heading up now from 14,900' to 16,800' at Camp Three. Although we’re barely exceeding the elevation gain of one of our Atalaya training days, it’s a kick-ass hike at altitude. Straight out of camp we cross the river, which we will follow today.  We cross on a bridge and keep our fingers crossed the yak do too.   

I'm excited to be leaving behind roads and wires today (still faintly in view at Camp Two).  Now we're headed up to a world without communication or motorized transportation. Around the world, but maybe particularly so in Tibet, I feel conflicted to see sloppy development erasing traditional ways of living (in this case an overt flexing of Chinese muscle -- invasion, domination and oppression).  I suppose this is a romantic vision I hold.  Progress is not bad.  But the way it is happening in Tibet -- without choice or freedom -- is painful to me.  So from my perhaps idealistic view, the world beyond the construction of roads, bridges, and commercial development is what to me feels like the real Tibet.

This is a long day for us.  Full of highlights I note in my journal:

Walking the valley, we spot high-flying Himalayan Griffon Vultures, and Lämmergeier on the ground so gorged on prey that they hardly can lift their heavy bodies to fly -- instead hopping along like ostriches.

The Indiana Jones of Caterpillar Hunters

Women scouring the slope for cordyceps

And we get to watch the caterpillar hunters in action.  Up and down the steep slopes of rock and scree they dance (oh, how we wished for their mountain lungs and legs), to find patches of grass where a tiny tell-tale stem indicates the riches below.  Try as we may, we never really get the knack for spotting them.  


Criss-crossing the crystal clear river and streams humming through valley,  we also pass herds of Himalayan goats, yak and sheep tended by Tibetan families; and of course wildflowers too numerous to count.

Happy at Lunch.  R-L: Gary, Karl, Chris, Cliff and me

During the day, the camp crew caught up with us for lunch and the gear-laden yak passed on the ridge line high above us (nowhere near the river) to get Camp Three established before our arrival. 

By the time we rolled into camp some five hours after lunch, we were feeling the effects of a long and demanding trekking day.  It was a stone sober meal shared by fellow hikers who previously had chatted through camp dinners of soup (every night for extra fluids), a carb-laden entree and dessert.  We all were wiped.  Even Cliff has a headache at the end of this day.  Overnight snow fell, and we doubled our Diamox. 

Camp Three, at last