Accomplishment

The group's back in Kathmandu after spending a few days hiking around the Shivapuri forest north of the city. The five of us (my brothers, cousin Will, and a Fulbrighter from Rice named Ian) went to the Royal Hana Japanese Gardens last night for hot baths and Japanese cuisine to celebrate, to unwind, to whatever. The food was tasty and later I passed out easily at the guesthouse with Enter the Dragon playing on Mike's Mac.

The hiking wasn't long--over three days we probably covered only twenty miles--but it was a good deal of up and down. Shivapuri peak lies at about only 2700 meters, but as we crested the rim of the ridge we were able to clearly view the Annapurna and Everest ranges. It's certainly incredible to stand at the top of a mountain and see such peaks from a distance, realizing those mountaintops are three times as high as the cliff upon which one stands. Being above the smog and dust of the Kathmandu valley gave me enough time to get over my sniffles, and after having slept in this morning I'm feelin' good.

We started typically late Sunday afternoon. It was an easy hike to Nagigompa, a nunnery bearing the name of the female snake deities, the nagi. We took tea and decided on thin information to try to get to a hermitage before dark. Our de facto tour guide, Mike, busted his ass to make certain that someone arrived before dark. A bit under the weather, Ian lagged at the back with William. We reached the hermitage in time, passing a stone and concrete pool studded with Shiva phalli and tiger heads with the forest silently dusking around us.

One of the two yogis fed us a meal of rice, potatoes, and vegetables. He refrained from even the starches, as he's on a strict diet of vegetables. Babaji, or "honored father," cooked under a large metal hood in his low hermitage constructed of dung and wood. Buried in dusky blankets, we slept five abreast crammed between the fire pit on one side and piles of radishes and rice on the other.

In the morning we hit the peak. We found a young, thin Nepali loitering at the grassy top, drying his dewy sleeping blankets. Frost lined the shadow of the shrine on the mountaintop. He was about our age, a student of modern art taking a few years off to meditate in the mountains. He showed us his cave, made by a previous yogi. It was cold at the mouth of his cave; although he has a distant view of the Himalayas, the sun never hits the nothern side of his mountain.

That night we walked to Chissapani, and enjoyed the local alcohols raksi and chang with a couple of girls from Vermont. The hike the next morning was strictly downhill, and by the time we reached the exit of the forest our knees and thighs were thoroughly inflamed. It was wonderful.

Now Chris and Will have full plates adjusting travel plans, combating their travel agents from across the globe. Suffice it to say, by inquiring as to the possibility of a flight extension Chris got his flight canceled, and is now battling to arrange something that puts him back in the US by February. Chris is carefully crafting a rebuttal at this moment. That said, it'll be nice to have him around for another couple of weeks.