Annapurna Circuit

Annapurna Circuit-

I’m not sure when the lure of the Annapurna Circuit began to take hold of my imagination. Don’t remember how this particular trail stuck in my head or why, but hiking the circuit has been “IT” for me for several years. The very top of my list of things I wanted to accomplish this year. A mini pilgrimage of sorts I guess. I’ve known only a couple people who’ve done it and with those I shared my hopeful enthusiasm about completing it, but few others.

In comparison, I’ve found the Circuit more rural and less commercial than the Everest Base Camp Trek. In spite of the venomous road that now snakes its way through, it’s a throwback to an earlier time. The trail starts out in the hot and sticky lowlands, surrounded by green hills with patches of majestic waterfalls. The village life, though adjusted to opportunities provided by hikers, still seems wholesome and natural. Tiny uncaged chicks follow a hen in the streets. A water buffalo cools himself in a mud puddle and a rooster stretches his neck and yells when I pass. Mild mannered dogs will quietly follow along side, sometimes for miles at a time, in hopes of food scraps. In the morning an old lady walks slowly back and forth in the street burning incense and chanting barely audible prayers and the shop owners spray or throw water in the streets to minimize dust. In the afternoon I see a man pounding wheat on a flat roof and a lady in the street hand knitting scarves to sell. Behind us, two ladies with axes alternate hacks at a tree stump, and in front a young boy, not yet a teenager, struggles barefoot steering a plow being pulled by two yaks… It’s a hard knock life. The trail is shared by armies of mules and goats and every time I see a goat herder I can’t help but think of my man Akeem from Zamunda.

On top of a ridge a group of 12-15 school children of kindergarten age, in matching uniform, slow down as I approach. The first in line though keeps up his pace and doesn’t lose stride. The brave 5 year old walks up to me, holds his hands together in a prayer gesture, bows his head and in a pure crisp voice says “namaste” (short translation means “I salute you”. It’s the common greeting all over Nepal)… I cheerfully return the bow as well as the “namaste”, he glows then confidently holds out his hand for a shake. The rest of the kids in quick precession, and nearly single filed, come running up enthusiastically. They all want to shake my hand. After I shake their hand and say namaste I watch as they run past laughing hysterically. When I turn back around the next little boy or girl has their arm fully extended and with the beautiful smile and innocence of a child… “Namaste”

By day 6 we leave behind the tree line and are now engulfed by green thorny growth and snowcapped mountains. The farm fauna gets swapped out for some “wild” life. What I think is a small foxlike dog, my porter excitedly declares to be a jackal. Sweeping in and out of sight over nearby cliffs is the largest bird of prey I’ve ever seen. It had AT LEAST a 6 foot wing span. By the brown and white markings I later identify it as the endangered Himalayan Golden Eagle. The cliff tops look like razor sharp knuckles on giant fists and base of the mountains, worn smooth by landslide and avalanche, looks like broad strokes from the brush of The Happy Painter. It’s in this way the mystic spectacle of the Himalayas are all things yin and yang; soft and jagged, evil and angelic. The peaks are imposing, the valleys inviting. All around the grotesque beauty echoes silence.

Reaching the high pass, Thorung La, at 17,769 ft, I stand quietly, stare out and allow vertigo take hold. The mountains retreat from each other like a deep inhale and for that tiny moment in time I have my finger on the pulse. The day we reach Thorung La Pass starts (at 4:00am) with a 1,940 ft climb and directly over the pass it quickly descends 5,433 feet to the next town. That rapid change in elevation gives you a funny kind of natural high caused by “blood doping”. It’s basically your body producing more red blood cells to combat lack of oxygen at higher altitudes. The up and down day wrecked havoc on my knees, but I had a strange euphoric feeling to keep me company.

The following day it wasn’t the elevation change to contend with, but the wind. Vegas is a relatively windy place so I’m somewhat used to it, but this was on another level. The deep valley creates a vortex wind tunnel that has you feeling like you’re pulling one of those parachutes sprinters train with. The blowing sand grains pummeled any shred of exposed skin. Any minute one of those apocalyptic 2000 foot high dust storms would be bearing down on me. Just as we reach the outskirts of the town Jomsom a plane flys in between the cliffs and circles back to land at the tiny airport. There’s no way! It’s impossibly windy to be landing a plane right now! I stop mid stride to watch the landing in suspense. The plane disappears between some buildings and there is thankfully no giant cloud of smoke to accompany it. THAT plane made it safe and sound. The following morning we get our typical 7am start and are half way to the next town before we hear that, at about 8am, a (separate) plane, carrying 21 people including 9 Japanese tourists DID crash at the Jomsom airport! All 21 onboard were injured, but miraculously, nobody died. In an interview one of the survivors called it a miracle… High winds were sighted as the cause.

I finished the 17-20 day circuit in 13 by doubling up on miles a few days and ignoring the recommended days of rest. By the end of it I was whooped. The finish line, and second largest Nepal city, Pokhara, is a welcome and unexpected reprieve from the chaos and turmoil of Kathmandu. I have a few days of unwinding to do here before movin’ on to the enchanting, and by all reports eye opening, experience of India. Rarely do things you’ve dreamed about for so long live up to expectations, but the Annapurna Circuit, as well as the amazing country Nepal, did not disappoint.

Bob