Avoiding the darkness of Larkle Pass

It was a foregone conclusion that we were not going to cross Larkle Pass. The enjoyment factor of dropping down a steep, icy escarpment on the West end on a sunless morning would be non-existent. Also major risks lay on the pass itself, mostly from unpredictable weather. So unfortunately we had to start backtracking all the way to Arket Bazaar, where we started.

Facing south from Sama, the return to our regular reality begins 

It was probably the 12th consecutive sunny morning in a row for us. We left Samaguan and strolled through that massive field dotted with yak out to pasture and surrounded as usual by the those gleaming Manaslu minor peaks. The descent traffic picked up, mostly porters. Within 2 hours we had swung past Shyala and started the woody drop down to Lho. The cow/ yak watering point was as usual interesting. There were a couple of nervous moments: a jittery nyak guarding her calf and 2 big horned yaks blocking the way. I am still amazed at how docile these big beasts are. I couldn't possibly imagine how the domestication of these species went about.The shepherd, who was an old man had a lot of work to do keeping this enormous herd in good order. 

The serene shadow of the Buddha stupa in the morning

The oat and apple porridge as well as the honey smothered Tibetan bread that I had that morning was starting to boost me forward but there was this constant uphill up to Lho that was slowing all of us down. Despite the repetition of the scenery from 2 days ago, the early morning shadows cast by the sun gave the grassy and pine tree dotted foothills a special relief. We didn't stop at all at Lho, just barely noticing the jobsite that was our guesthouse a couple of days ago. They were installing a green painted roof over the wooden frames that they had hammered in all night when we stayed there.  The poor sods that night will have their high altitude psychotic nightmare episode accompanied by a different construction beat to ours. 

Under construction yet open for business. No problem!

Mount Manaslu looked even more beautiful behind a gompa, all lit up and cloudless. From now on it was a rather tortuous downhill trend swinging back and forth across the Buddhi Gandaki river. A large traffic stream of French trekkers started coming through in the opposite direction. The All Saints or Autumn midterm break has just begun, their daydreaming at work a month after 'la rentrée' (return from summer holidays in France) now over.

Last gaze at Mr. Frosty in Shyala (Courtesy of J. Chow)

It was pretty constant from Lho onwards. We had lunch at Namrung, at the prestigious guesthouse of 3 days ago. As usual there very generous portions of D.B. Power! We were making very good headway. Amir had predicted sleeping here tonight and it was only midday! Krishna and Yam powered ahead of the rest of us in order to secure the famous Gandaki Hotel, known on the trail for their exceptional cuisine. Hanja finally stopped at the 'Smokey Joes' to be sure whilst Krishna ran ahead. We got room no.1 in the end...and top notch pizza and momos tonight!

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''

Samagaun

Lho is the most ideal place on the trail to witness the sunrise. The valley below is due East so the sun appears early and low. In fact you can see Mount Manaslu illuminated by the rising sun before you see the sun itself rising. Another clear and sunny early morning. It has been a trend that any evening peak cloud cover from the previous day clears up the following morning. The equally trend setting mule traffic and the movements of locals going about their business began very soon after the sun rose. The construction works at our hotel were already in full swing.

Mt. Manaslu stalking Lho Gumba on a crisp, clear morning

Mt. Manaslu stalking me now

The journey to Samagaun was going to be a morning affair. The trail is regained at the junction to the path leading up to the Lho Gumba, with a sudden dip down into the ever present Budhi Gandaki river valley. There was a gain in altitude by several hundred metres but was not apparent in the beginning. A rudimentary and slippery wooden river crossing led us to a new valley that began the ascent. More dense foliage and a large amount of trekker traffic. The mule traffic didn't let up and from time to time a fast horse rider sped through. A lot more of the beautiful autumn colours burst through to distract me from the constant uphill chore. We took a break at a yak gate that seemed to be a temporary corral for yaks, mules and horses. They looked fed and stood there vigil, sleeping, chewing card, grooming or just dozing off. There were probably about a hundred of these beasts checked into the bovine bed and breakfast.

Premature conclusion of our ascent to Mt. Manaslu at Samdo via Sama(Ryo/Gaun). Larkya (Larkle) Glacier Pass was closed.

 The Bovine B&B

The emergence at the intermediate village of the route, Shyala, was a treat. All the major peaks and massifs of this conservation area became very visible and near! The wide path cutting through Shyala made the experience quite cinematic. I bumped into the Czech guy that we meet in Chumling almost a week ago. As we exchanged waves he was relaxing at a teahouse with his portable solar panels laid out on his bag and charging up his iPad. A place of R & R for humans, mules and their gadgets.

Stunning background scenes at Shyala

Samagaun was now only 45 minutes away. It lays at the end of a wide open plain. As we passed by a school in the middle of the plain a flock of birds flew around the vast expansive, impeccably synchronised. Samagaun is quite a dense town, with plenty of Tibetan tablets piled  up near a Stupa. The houses had yak paddocks in the front yard, quite a unique architectural feature. Another bustling town with mostly girls carrying baskets of firewood on their backs and men guiding cargo mules. Since we were one of the earlier groups to arrive in town we took advantage of finding a teahouse with the best views.  The Peace Heaven Guesthouse had the best poppadoms of the trail (#howdoyoulikethesepoppadoms).

 Samagaun unveils itself behind the bleaching trees

We were all settled at the Peace Heaven Guesthouse when the clouds that were advancing over the peaks suddenly engulfed us with sleet and snow. That pretty much wrote off the planned excursion to Birendra Tal, a glacial lake right at the end of the great Manaslu glacier. Just as well because my left ankle that had been nagging me all day was not in a good state. It was well strapped and massaged with anti-inflammation gel but needed some rest and elevation to accelerate recovery. So, an afternoon in my sleeping bag, observing the sleet and overcast, windy weather was most welcome. Jason got itchy feet and went for a run. The crazy running man in the snow became the talk to the town and who knows, the title of a children's song 100 years from now.

Samagaun village limits

Mt. Manaslu

There is quite often something about dripping water in the wee hours. The sleep at this hotel was accompanied by the unusual continuation of a constantly flowing tap in the courtyard and the hum of the river below giving an uncanny rain effect. As usual I woke up at some stupid time, probably with the urge to go for a leak in the usual twilight groggy daze. For a change the latrine was within easy reach but the gas build-up in me didn't make the trumpeting chorus journey easy. After a scrumptious Tibetan bread and egg sandwich breakfast in the very smoky courtyard we set off towards Lho.

Mt. Manaslu slowly emerges into view on this route.

The landscape was similar to yesterdays, towering rocky lower peaks, lush green forests with wispy creepers and the occasional rural community. The presence of flora like these creepers signalled that we were getting into high altitudes. Loads more  trekkers were descending in the opposite direction. We bumped into the Danish quartet that we met in Philim. They had gone as far as Samdo. The Larkle Pass news was still grim. Avalanche risk and slippery descent on the other side. We also bumped into the family from Chicago, as they struggled upwards in the same direction as us. They had made a head start.

 Buddhist prayer wheels along the way

We stopped for tea at Namrung, a fast growing village with large tea houses under construction, in the classic regional wood cabin style. The teahouse that we visited was littered with sticker business cards of local and international trekking companies. The sun had by now escaped the shielding of the peaks so it was possible to de-layer and enjoy it. One of the Ganesh Himal peaks gleamed behind us.

 

 

Trekking companies of all flavours and humours

We were by now, once again, deep in Tibetan country with signs to a Gumba (Monastery) all over the place along with hilarious small village names (Banjam, Lingling) and the succession of major villages that we will pass through (Lihi - Sho - Lho...sounding like Nepali Teletubbies ). The journey today was mostly up and down, keeping to the south bank of the river. However we were to climb  a hamstring wringing 1000m. We had lunch in Lihi. This teahouse was a carpentry job site, children's playground and camping combo. 5 kids played in the grass on top of an animal skin. Their pet dog joined in on the frolics until grandpa launched a piece of wood at it, hitting the canine target, sending the poor pooch yelping out of the compound never to be seen again for the rest of the day. The dal bhat was pretty mediocre here (#dalbhatrankings). Amir's sulk confirmed my verdict.

 Mt. Manaslu emerges to the left

We pressed on, encountering heavy mule traffic. Also plenty of porters were lugging goods downhill, one sturdy man carrying a whole generator. Some groups of porters had uniform jump suits, looking like firefighters! We crossed plenty of stupas and prayer scrolls as we passed Sho. The mid-afternoon sun brought the autumnal vista into contrast with the blue sky, along with the gathered husks of harvested maize. The sprawl of Lho came into view, dominated by the most beautiful stupa that I've seen in this valley. At this stupa was our first glimpse of Mt. Manaslu  - the 8th highest mountain in the world.

Shear massifs flank the great Mt. Manaslu in intimidating form

 

Approaching Lho, with its Gumba in the centre

Our place of accommodation was still under construction (would you believe!), with the courtyard acting as a maize sorting yard. It seemed that this was all that was available in Lho. The rickety stairs and the missing banister on the first floor veranda was going to make the nocturnal movements very hazardous. We were by now in the full swing of Nepali life, with greater hazards on the trail, so it wasn't a bother. However, the construction (and agricultural!) works did continue until midnight! Jason and I wandered up to the Lho Gumba that overlooked the village whilst there was still visibility.

Drying maize husks contribute to the autumnal sunset

 Lho Gumba monastery students clearing the fields

Gorge Crossing to Ghap (Gangnam Style!)

The rush of the rapids below emitted a constant and loud hum of water flow that was quite therapeutic when we went to sleep the night before. From 6 am everyone was in sync preparing for the days trek. Today's destination was Ghap, finishing at the start altitude, oddly enough, dropping to below 2,000 metres altitude at Bihi Phedi, our lunch stop. Breakfast was amazing Tibetan bread, fried egg and honey.

More R&R...

The path to Ghap switches from left bank to right bank in dramatic fashion

Equally tantalising were the deep and vast gorges that awaited us all the way to Deng. A fantastic  location to shoot an adventure movie scene! We briefly crossed over to the East end of the Bhudi Gandaki river via a very rickety, patchworks of a bridge. Not long after we were back on the West End due to the apparent impossibility of blasting a continuous path on one side of this very rocky and steep gorge. Near Pewa, several waterfalls plunged into the river, one of them producing a spray well positioned with the sun to produce a beautiful rainbow at close quarters. The river below continued raging and the valley opened up a bit. We were still crossing paths with numerous trekkers on the way down due to the continued closure of the Larkle Pass since the big storm. We were not disappointed because Sama (Alt 3520), just before Samdo and Larkle Bazar - the beginning of the pass, had stunning views.

Nepali scarecrow

 Emerging from the gorge

Now, more villages appeared some with very elaborate scarecrows to protect their crops. We had tea at the Shangri-La Home (the real deal!) before the crossing the ever more bridges revealing more buckwheat and potato fields. Just after Rana we came across a hydro-powered mill in action. We now rose up a bit in altitude, leaving the gorge and able to look back at the zip tight valley behind us and in the distance one of the Ganesh Himal peaks that gleamed beautifully yet menacingly above us only 2 days ago. At Bihi Pedi some of us took a break from the Dal Bhat norm and instead had a vegetable and egg spaghetti (smothered with spice normally used for momos in order to bring an otherwise bland dish back to life) and vegerable momos with a spicy sauce. Another mum, dad and child (with a son with time) trio dined with us. They were from Chicago, USA. We chortled at the ''Gangnam Style'' brand rum on sale at the tea house before we all went on our way.

From music sensation to tonic sensation

The rock faces of the peaks above and around us were stripy brown and black (probably ancient dried lava) but some sections were literally pebbles and mud, and others pure clay. A geologist's paradise. As the Western sun threatened to dip behind some peaks, the low rays made the piles of maize stalks in the fields gleam bright yellow. We went past the Ghap / Prok junction before arriving at Machikhola Hotel Camp and Lodge.

The unlikely trio: Fizzy drinks conglomerate team up with hip hop franchise and anonymous demon of Hindu lore.

Domje to Nyak Phedi (fuelled by Tsampa and Raksi)

At 1 am I awoke to the sounds of loud banter and giggling. I wasn't the only one woken up by the nuns who seemed to be having a soirée with some visitors. I managed to get back to sleep 1 hour later but of course the daily pooja kicked off at 5 am. Jason snuck to the door where the pooja chants were coming from to listen in. It was the famous class/dining/bed room. One of the kids saw him through the crack of the door and invited him in.

The Manaslu - Tsum Valley intersection near Lokpa

Finally at 7am a big pot of tsampa porridge and flasks of tea were brought out to the hordes of trekkers, guides and porters about to go on their way. The Canadian and British families were going up to Gumba Lungdung and the rest of us were leaving, Tsum Valley heading to Nyak at the crossroads (cross-valleys rather) between Tsum Valley and the Manaslu Conservation Area.  We crossed Domje Bridge to get into the greener southern side of the valley (we used the drier northern side going up). The terrain was still rough, with constant ups and downs. We crossed two bridges bypassing two very deep gorges, etched into the surrounding peaks of Ganesh Himal peaks. We emerged into a wide open agricultural plain and then arrived at the labyrinth village that is Ripchet, in the timeless stony form that is typical up here. The trail were following swung into the fields from Ripchet, but after we got lost in the village. We climbed down short ladders between each fallow field at the same time being stalked by 3 kids who were on holiday (the Tihar celebrations had just begun). We took a break in the playing fields of a local school. The kids took an interest in the map, so I showed them a few interesting bits.

Ripchet

The rest of the trail up to Lokpa was a gentle uphill. We reached the crossroads to the trail that led up to Chumling, where we stayed 5 days ago, avoiding that horrible landslide crossing. We once again got to enjoy the sun on the patio of Lokpa as we ate ''dal bhat''. The big climb to Lokpa last week became a knee crushing from Lokpa to the new bridge that officially ends Tsum Valley. On crossing this bridge we just needed to climb along the new trail for about half an hour before reaching Nyak Phedi.

Precious gilmpse of a miniature rainbow

We had another in-kitchen dinner treat there. Aside from standard staple, with some really tasty thakari (curry, usually with potatoes), we were offered fresh pumpkin soup and freshly brewed rice wine, Raksi, to help digest the dinner's generous helpings!

Gumba Lungdung

At 5 am I woke up in confusion. It turned out that the kids wake up early for morning 'pooja' '(prayers) and meditation that lasts for about 1 hour. Just as well - it's a more soothing option than waking up to your neighbour snoring.

Today was going to be a day trip up to Gumba Lungdung, another monastic settlement, and then to a viewpoint at about 4,000 metres altitude. One normally proceeds to the higher Ganesh Himal Basecamp (GHBC - Alt. 4200m) but it was closed due to snow. The summit looms above at an altitude of 7422m.

Domje to Gumba Lungdang (with a wander up the rolling hils just north to the viewpoint) and back

The trail starts with a direct upward climb with a tight zig-zag path through the dense forest. The roar of the stream coming from the Ganesh Himal glaciers became fainter as the peaks and their deep valleys and wide glaciers became closer. The terrain briefly became grassy allowing more stunning views, including the Manaslu peaks. By now we were high enough to see some yaks, blocked from going downhill by an elaborately arranged wooden fence, with a gate at the pathway with foot friendly, hoof unfriendly ladders.

After about 2 hours of walking one can actually see the GHBC. The sparse clouds allowed a clear view of the intricate folds of the peaks, a photographers or painters delight with the interplay of shadow and light. The monastic settlements came into view. Already their dogs were barking. The monastic temple overlooked a courtyard where we saw a nun washing some clothes. Amir got to work with getting news and some refreshments. Of course, also ordering ''dal bhat''. Problem: no dal but lots of alu (potatoes). The views remained majestic. Also their garden flowers were worth gazing at with bees and other insects hovering, prospecting for nectar. 

So much transformation of scenery in one morning from lowland coniferous forest to the edge of Ganesh Himal glacier !

It was about 11 am and we decided that it was a good idea to get up to the viewpoint before lunch. The trail up is very sketchy and one of the nuns had to help us find its head as Amir couldn't pick it up on his own. It's not much of a trail, just a bush-whacked opening. We trudged for a while through forested foliage before emerging into rocky grassland. From Gumba Lunging, the viewpoint seemed close to. However from our current clearing it was still distant as we had to go round numerous hills, previously unseen. What made it worse was that the grass hid this rarely frequented trail so Amir had to look hard to regain it or just work out a new one of his own. The terrain was not just grassy, various hardy plants, like little cacti and minuscule flowers, as well as pleasantly smelling herbs were abundant. Also deer or perhaps mountain goat droppings were scattered at some instances.

Ani explaining to Amir the trail to the viewpoint

Circling above us were the usual crows, but there were also birds of prey: eagles. I bet they scavenge the odd dead animal too. A lizard that just scuttled under a rock had many other worries. The eagle majestically glided in the valley, sometimes seeming like they were circling us and marking us as potential carrion. We were getting closer to the viewpoint but were still very far. Clouds were now rolling in, retreating that 360 degree panorama that we expected at the viewpoint. We took a break at one protrusion in the hilly fold and a disturbed pheasant burst out of its nest nearby. At the next protrusion we rested again, against some quarried slates, popular in this region for roofing. We had by now gone over 4000 metres in altitude, hence the need for frequent breathing catching breaks. 

 The rolling hills exposing...

....mountains after mountains after mountains....

We finally decided that it would be too dangerous to risk spending 1 hour to get to the viewpoint with potential snow and inadequate protective clothing. We had left some stuff at Gumba Lungdung. So we descended. Light snowflakes did fall on us so our decision was quite prudent. Just before our return for lunch I had a face wash at a communal free flowing tap. It was so refreshing, amplified by the desiccated mountain wind drying off my face within minutes. ''Bhat'', curry ''alu'' and some pickle awaited us. The 2 nuns at our service took a fascination to my hair.  They have never seen Afro hair. I invited them to touch it. They were unconvinced that it grew naturally like this!

The T.A.A.C. (Tibetan Afro Appreciation Club) (Courtesy of J.Chow)

I spotted a langur monkey whilst eating. It was on a tree about 50 metres from us. Yam joined the nuns in throwing stones to scare it away. I have no idea why. It was just perched on a tree minding its own business. I openly wondered whether this action violates Buddhist non-violence principle or their is some sort of karmic precedence (a local long dead human bully reincarnated as a langur perhaps!). I then saw a moth on top of a drying saffron coloured article of clothing on a washing line. I nudged it to get it to fly off before it decides to chew into the fabric. It fell straight down to the ground. It was already dead (it's true!). Hmm, I wonder how it died...

Carefully tended compound, not a soul emitting a sound...

 Swaying flowers and trees, prayer flags swinging in the gentle breeze....

...and busy bees.

We started our descent back to the herbal clinic by 3pm after saying our goodbyes. The descent was quite taxing on the knees. The weather seemed to stabilise when we reached Domje. Some trekkers and their crew had just arrived after descending down Tsum Valley today.We had already met some of them the previous day. The Scottish/English couple and the Austrian. We met for the first time a family trio: a mum, dad and daughter combo from Canada. We all ate in the classroom like true troopers before settling to bed.

Also check out the Gumba Lungdung photo album here.