The following is a continuation of Langtang Valley Nepal in April 2010, Part 1: Kathmandu to Kyangjin Gompa

After a short meal, we made the decision to hike to the glaciers we had seen as our helicopter landed. It was a very aggressive plan considering that we had only arrived from Kathmandu that morning and had little opportunity to become accustomed to the high altitude of Kyangjin Gompa (3,800 m., 12,467 ft.). Regardless, we had lost a few days trying to leave Kathmandu and wanted to make up for the lost time. The trail started just behind the village and we were soon making our way to the yak pastures used only in the summertime, dotted with shepherd’s huts and just beginning to show the flowery signs of Spring. It was remarkable how well we hiked without significant loss of breath or headaches.

The glacier

We had both experienced glaciers in Europe, but nothing that compared to the enormity of what were now seeing.  The moraine ridges on each side were easily fifty meters above the surface of the moving ice field.  We saw no real snow or ice, but instead saw a gray surface dotted with turquoise blue pools of melt water.  There was no noise of popping or creaking as we expected. Above the river of gray, we could see enormous hanging serac coming down from the peak of the mountain at 7,227 m. (23,711 ft). The air was unbelievably clear and the day was as sunny as we had ever seen. The combination made the peak seem close enough to touch, though we knew it was a world apart from where we stood. It was likely extremely cold and a deadly place, even though it seemed so close.

Langtang Lirung

Langtang Lirung is a mountain that isn’t well-known to the Western world. What makes it exceptional, even in Nepal, is its prominence (height it rises above nearby peaks) at 1,525 m. (5,003 ft) makes it very impressive. Even more remarkable, it was only first climbed in 1978 by a Japanese and Sherpa expedition and there have only been 14 successful attempts to climb it (and 13 unsuccessful). That makes Langtang Lirung one of the least-climbed major peaks in the world.

We’ll never forget our time spent on the flanks of that mountain that beautiful Nepal day.  It was our first foray into the Himalayas and it was a great start.

Up next:  Part 3 – Kyangjin Gompa to Tsergo Ri

The following is a continuation of Langtang Valley Nepal in April 2010, Part 2: Hiking the Langtang Lirung Glacier

Only twenty-four hours into actually trekking and on our fourth day in Nepal we were treated to a hike up a nearby peak known as Tsergo Ri at 5024 m. (16,428 ft.).  The approach involved heading higher up the valley from Kyangjin Gompa, crossing a glacial snowmelt stream, and then approaching the peak from a long ridge.

Happy porters

Soon after making the stream crossing, we were passed by a group of porters from another party, whistling as they walked very quickly up the mountain despite their heavy loads. As they drew closer, it was apparent they were wearing sandals without socks in the below-freezing temperatures, further evidence of the strength and resilience of the Nepali people.

The ridge

The going became easier once we were on the ridge. The trail was smooth and we made excellent time as we climbed rapidly higher. There were once again occasional shepherd’s huts in the few grassy areas along the ridge, and the views on either side became gradually more impressive. The day warmed up to the point that we were down to shirts and pants despite a cold breeze thanks to the exertion. As we were only in our second day of acclimation we were feeling the lack of oxygen much like when we climb Mt Whitney in California after coming from sea level the day prior. An occasional stop to catch our breath was enough to keep moving, though by the time we left the ridge and started a rockier section, we were both feeling headaches and light-headed.

Toward the summit

The ridge gave way to rocks and snow and the going became slower and more difficult. Breathing also was starting to come with greater difficulty as we were both at the highest altitude we had climbed in our lives. The peak was anti-climatic except for a tricky ice field we had to cross on the north side of the peak, where the sun rarely warms the snow enough to melt off.  The peak itself was adorned with many prayer flags left by both our Nepali and Western predecessors. The views, however, were amazing in all directions and well worth the effort.  Going down, as always, was the more tricky portion of the day as our exhaustion and haste to be back in a safe and warm place had us pushing the limits of wisdom.

Up next: Part 4: Tsergo Ri to Lama Hotel

This post is a continuation of Arriving in Kathmandu, Nepal, April 2010.

Going trekking

Few experiences in our lives compare to spending two days trying to fly out of the Kathmandu domestic air terminal. Our destination was Tumlingtar, east of Kathmandu and south of Mt Everest, but weather conditions both days were hot and humid, closing most of the airports at lower elevations due to wind and thunderstorms.   We had no idea of this as we left from our hotel in Kathmandu on a clear, cool morning. Our plan was to trek the Arun Valley from the foothills to the Himalayas, with hopefully clear views of Mt Everest.

Domestic flying

The first thing notable about the domestic side of the airport was the very long lines of guides and trekkers that had formed by the time we arrived. Everyone had large duffel bags, just like we did, and there were piles of blue bags, piles of orange bags, but everywhere guides, trekkers and bags. When the doors finally opened, however, the long, orderly line became a contest to see who could talk their way to the front and inside the terminal.

Immediately inside the door was the typical luggage and walk-through scanners that you’ll find anywhere in the world, except these had seen better days and we suspected were purchased second-hand at the security equipment auction (if there is such a thing). To emphasize the point, the baggage scanner didn’t have a functioning belt to move the luggage through, and so it was the job of a nepal police officer to reach into the machine from the far end with wooden pole that had a hook on the end that would allow him to pull the bags through. It was one of the first many ways we would see Nepalis make up for technology with human labor.

Even more surprising a a bit alarming, people were milling about near the machines, making it impossible to know who was entering, who was leaving, and who or what was being security checked. We eventually made it inside where stood near the Agni Airlines desk and waited while our guide, Buddi Rai, working for Adventure Geo Treks, appeared to be negotiating with the airline workers. We didn’t pay separately for tickets, and to this day, it is unclear to us how the reservations and ticketing system works. There were black and white monitors on the walls, but the screens were blank and it wasn’t clear if anything displayed would be a comfort or anxiety-producing, as the noise and apparent lack of order in the terminal kept us from knowing what to expect next. Loud, indistinct announcements were made periodically in what could have been English, or Nepali, or Swahili…we couldn’t know as the PA system was as modern and functional as everything else.

Entering the departure lounge meant separating into  male and female lines, and then passing through a small, curtained room, where a single policeman/woman did a quick frisk. As we found out later, if you had to come back through for any reason, you simply say, “I was already checked,” to which the always-polite Nepalis would say, “OK, yes,” and allow us to pass through unimpeded by another frisk. Even if the official was a different one…

We spent an entire day this way, trying to get updates from staff, being told our flight was not canceled but only delayed. Late in the afternoon we finally were told the flight was canceled and to come back the next day. We did just that, only to find the same situation the following day. It was still the weather in Tumlingtar, and it was still a struggle to get answers, until in one moment Buddi came over to tell us that we needed to urgently go to the gate, and that we were approved to take off. We hustled to the departure area, where we were once again separated into security lines by gender and then loaded onto a bus bound for the plane. Once at the very small turboprop, we waiting while the airline loaded a young boy on the plan who was returning home from surgery in Kathmandu.  Just as he was settled on the plane, the pilot walked around from the other side of the plane and shouted, “What are you doing here? This flight is canceled!”

Change of plans

Before this, back in the terminal, we asked Agni for a forecast for the next day for Tumlingtar and were told, “the same as today.” Something had to give.  We approached Buddi and asked for alternative plans. He didn’t seem very surprised. He stepped off the bus, pulled out his cell phone, and called the trekking company to see what could be done. He returned a surprisingly short time later to offer us a 9-day trek in Langtang Valley, but with arrival at the highest village in the valley by helicopter. After two days of chaos, a 45-minute flight to the heart of the Himalayas sounded like a perfect plan.

To make up for our loss of trekking time, we were also offered a chance to spend the night in a hilltop getaway not far from Kathmandu known as Nagarkot. It turned out to be a very pleasant, quiet area that seemed a world apart from the noise and density of Kathmandu. We walked around the resort property, bought a dusty, old map of Langtang Valley in a nearby store, and had a great dinner before going to bed early for our 4am drive back to the airport.

Helicopter flight

Travel by helicopter was an entirely different experience. Sure, we had the same security as the previous two days, but once through, we were taken directly to the aircraft and were boarded and in the air in a very short period of time. Our pilot was trained in Russia and Florida (an odd combination) and looked like a Nepali version of pilots everywhere with a green flight suit, a leather flight jacket and Ray Ban aviator sunglasses. After takeoff we  Kathmandu and then two heavily terraced ridges before making a hard right turn into the opening of Langtang Valley. The valley floor rose quickly but the peaks rose even more quickly until we were well below the peaks of either side of the valley. The pitch of the helicopter blades also changed as the air grew thinner and we fought for altitude, quickly approaching the helicopter’s limits.

Kyangjing Gompa

Before takeoff, we were warned that we would probably be too heavy to take all the way to Kyangjin Gompa, the highest village in the valley at 3,800 m. (12,467 ft.) and that we’d need to walk a couple of hours to meet our bags. As we approached, however, the weather and air conditions were favorable and our pilot was able to build up enough forward speed to trade for altitude and just bring us over the ledge on the shoulder of the mountain where the village clung to the mountainside, putting us down on the “H” formation of rocks in what turned out to be a yak pasture.

Rock stars

Just before landing, we spotted enormous glaciers just above the village on the north wall of the valley on the side of Langtang Lirung, a 7227 m. (23,711 ft.) mountain that is the 99th tallest in the World. The crystal clear air in the morning sunlight made the white and blue shades of the glacier a National Geographic picture and our excitement was obvious. We landed like rock stars, all smiles, and were met by what seemed like the whole village. Three tall, blonde Westerners emerged from the crowd with duffel bags the same color as ours, and cross our path with slight nods as we headed toward the village. Our trek had begun, and in a glorious, unforgettable way.

Up next, Part 2:  Hiking the Langtang Lirung Glacier