Category: Mustang

The caves, all carved out of solid rock by hand, were home to the people of this area for thousands of years, though a bucket of water was often an hour’s walk away and firewood for cooking, even further.  These were not cavemen.  Their pottery was beautiful and Tibetan Buddhist beliefs deep.  The complex we explored was “just over the mountain” from Tibet/China.  It had 108 rooms on five levels accessed by interior ladders.  The ceilings were black with smoke and the floors inches deep in dust. Continue reading The Caves

Rocks, rocks, rocks.  I’ve never seen so many rocks, rocks with dozens of sparkling garnets, rocks with marble streaks, and round golden rocks by the billions.  I like rocks.  I’m fascinated by them.  Up here trekking, one has plenty of time to look at rocks.  Going up, down, or flat, every rock in the path has meaning, as either a place to step or something to avoid.  On a steeper uphill with no chance to look up, the six square feet of rock in front of you is your whole world, then the next six square feet, just a bit higher on the trail. Continue reading Day V, Rocks, Rocks, Rocks

This morning bed tea was delayed until 6:30 am to give all of us, crew, guides, and clients extra rest. As usual I was awake at 5 am.  It was light and I was ready to play.

We started the day with a visit to a 700 year old village monastery with only one small meditation room, men only.  The vibration was old, deep and sweet.  We just wanted to sit for hours and soak it in, but being on a remote, long distance trek allows for little flexibility.  Even the camping spot is set months ahead, each one dependent on the previous day throughout the trek. Continue reading Trek Day IV, A Wicked Pass

Nepal was still on strike when we were to fly from Pokhara to Jomsom.  The strike didn’t officially start this morning until 6:00 am, so our hotel van dropped us off at the airport in time to get back to the hotel before 6:00 am. Continue reading On to Jomsom

The general strike in Nepal was brought on because the government couldn’t agree on a Constitution and had missed several deadlines over a seven year period. A new deadline was fast approaching and the people were angry and on strike, warning the politicians of trouble to come if they didn’t get their job done this time. It began while we were leaving Kathmandu. The roads free of traffic except taxis and vans serving the tourists. All businesses were closed except, again, those related to the tourism industry. We caught our (late) flight to Pokhara and found the city totally shut down. The strike meant there were absolutely no motor vehicles in use, and all businesses were closed except hotels and restaurants. Continue reading The Strike

Everyday we were hammered by the unrelenting afternoon winds that tore through the valleys and up through the passes, gaining strength the higher we climbed.  The ragged 40 mph winds pushed us roughly from behind the first few days with blasts up to 70 mph.  They pushed, but with an uneven hand, throwing us off the narrow trails every dozen yards. Picked up by the wicked winds, the sand and dust were joined by small stones as we neared the tops of many passes. More than once we had to hold onto each other to keep moving up the scree covered trail to the pass. Continue reading The Hardest Day

Long before I left home for this trek I gave considerable thought to what I wanted to create as far as the atmosphere of the trek. I wanted the trek to be an extraordinary experience for everyone from porters to clients.  My vision was for peace, equanimity, and inclusion, as well as bringing about a deep sense of brotherhood for all.  I’ve spent enough years traveling (and living) in the East to know how difficult it is to achieve a sense of equality and brotherhood in traditional, hierarchical societies.  There are complex boundaries that nearly forbid such relationships.  I told Hem and John of my vision and held it deeply in my thoughts throughout the trek. It is nothing that can be made to happen, but intention has power.

 

 

My first and lasting joy of the trek is experiencing the utter authenticity of life in Mustang. Each of the hundreds of miles of stone walls was built by hand over the centuries. Some Mani Walls are a thousand year old, each stone making up the wall was hand carved with inscriptions and prayers to be sent to the heavens by the winds through time. Every home and monastery is hand built with rock, adobe, and wood. They are being built today the same way. I never saw or heard a television or radio. Electricity came from solar panels in a few houses and guest houses. It was used sparingly, usually with no lights allowed until 6:45 or 7:00 pm, and then only one ten watt light per room. People mostly cooked with dried dung or very limited local firewood. We were above 12,500 ft where few trees grow. Continue reading The Kingdom of Mustang: Authenticity Reigns

Post-trek re-entry into the “real” world started in Kathmandu, the wickedly over-crowded, hot, traffic-filled city of terrible roads, bad cars and worse pollution. At the moment I’m in Bangkok to complete the fulfillment of a lifetime’s dream of trekking in the Kingdom of Mustang.  Bangkok, after Kathmandu, it’s looking like heaven.  I’ve used this city as a convenient hub city for my Asia buying and travels, but we have never been good friends.  I guess I’m just a country boy.  I like lots of green, mountains, quiet, and open space. Continue reading Flying out of Mustang