The Road to Samdo and Other Calamities

The horrid precipitation of the night before was soon forgotten as the sun rose into a clear sky! Today we were to do a day trip to Samdo, closer to the Larkle Pass and a major Tibetan yak centre. It is said that there are more yaks there than people! We left during what seemed to be rush hour as most trekkers were heading up to stay there and of course there was lots of cargo traffic. The overcast and cold night resulted in a clear, frosty twilight. The autumnal bushes gleamed in the frost to complement the jagged snowy peaks: an autumn wonderland.  To our right were the peaks of Larkle Danda and Pangbuche Himal, all above 6300m in altitude! Behind us was the 8163m Manaslu Himal otherwise known as Mount Manaslu.

 Mt. Manaslu up close turns out to be a very frosty character

We hopped over the rubble from the receded (and still receding) Manaslu glacier before briefly crossing a grassy plateau, layered with the night's frost and dotted with grazing yaks and horses. As usual, plenty of Tibetan religious features dotted the path. The Budhi Gandaki river, still beside us from the beginning, faithfully rumbled through its combination of snow and glacial melt. The Pangbuche Himals finally released the sun over us, and the frosty earth was fast turning into mud. We kept swinging clockwise up the valley, making Samaguan disappear from behind us. The clouds were starting to cover the twin peaks of Mt. Manaslu. However the Larkle Danda ranges emerged into view before us. Kyongma Karka was to our left, famous for stone huts high up and also blue sheep, a tasty staple of the endangered and elusive snow leopard. A stream crossing and a tough climb to a higher plateau led us to Samdo. It seemed sleepier than Samaguan but going through the entrance and first lot of guesthouses revealed buzzing stony houses and behind them vast yak enclosures, and beyond further up the valley to Larkle Bazaar. Larkle Bazaar marks the fork between Larkle  Pass, that takes you towards the Annapurna Range, and the Lajyung Pass, that takes you into China.
 

 

At Samdo we turned back :-(

After tea we wondered up to one of the highest points in the town to get better views. The infamous Larkle Pass trail head was visible but Dharamasala, the last town before the Larkle Pass assault was hidden. The buildup of clouds around the peaks was concerning so we decided to return to Samagaun for lunch, before going to the nearby Birendra Tal glacial lake. We learnt from Ratna, a Nepali guide who during the past week or so accompanied us with his client Thomas - a young Austrian, that Thomas was so ill that they called for a helicopter to come and evacuate him to Kathmandu. We did see a chopper lift off earlier that morning not knowing that it was a dramatic airlift of a trekker. All this did not come as a surprise because Thomas, who claimed experience of self-reliance on the Austrian Alps, had too much bravado for his own good. He refused to purify any water that he collected on the trail. The last time we saw him, at Lho, he drank unpurified water straight out of an old oil jerrycan. He had planned to proceed to India. I hope he learnt his lesson.

 

Autumn wonderland

 As far as we were going to go on the Manaslu trail

 Yak corrals

We headed in the same direction as to Samdo but down a different route. Unfortunately our initial attempt to get to the lake turned into a debacle. Amir chose the wrong route, leading us up a bushy and thorny slope. I knew that the other side of this slope overlooked the lake but I was getting concerned that Amir predicted a 2 hour max. journey time to the lake but the signage suggested 45 minutes! It became clear that he had no idea where exactly this path led (if there was indeed a path!) and I was certain that he had never been to Birendra Tal before!

It got so unusual that he and Krishna went ahead of us up rocks leaving Jason and I unable to figure out where they went. In the end we were precariously scrambling along the narrow hilltop looking for a way down to the lake and then looking like suckers when we identified the correct path down below, seeing other trekkers ambling along the lakeside like it was a Sunday afternoon (ironic: it so happened that it was a Sunday afternoon!). I witnessed the negative side of a 'save face' mindset. Amir contrived a lousy excuse about a landslide blocking a certain path. It is like trying to access a building by hitting the wall with a sledgehammer instead of using the door, and then complaining that these darn walls are so impenetrable these days. Here we are at the heights of incredulity in the Himalayas! Admitting fault, which in my view is noble, to him seemed the ultimate fall from grace. Not a proud moment for the crew.

Smiling under the haloed Manaslu Himal and in front of the glimmering Birendra Tal 

Jason and I put our feet down and back-tracked with Amir and Krishna in tow, doing their best to maintain face of course. We finally got on the right trail. Briefly forgetting that folly we enjoyed the stillness of this turquoise glacial lake. It was actually in flow, receiving glacial melt-water on one end and emptying on the other. There were lots of memorial stones littered the shores of the lake where we were. A heard of yak that was previously on this side had shifted to the opposite end for greener, more abundant pastures. As we admired the sheerness of the cliff burdened by the heavy glacier, clouds fell on the glacier slowly extinguishing its view. Eerily the sun still shone past the clouds leaving a halo between the Manaslu twin peaks.

We visited the local Buddhist temple before returning back to the teahouse. The attending monk allowed us in and we soaked up his meditation as we admired the interior of this austere but colourfully decorated place of worship.

 

I call this piece: ''Mt. Where Are My Yak Balls''