Walking in the Himalaya

From left to right: guide, cook, yak-man, porter. This montly crew worked heroically through heat and hail to provide us with a magical 8-day trek in the Sikkim Himalayas. During our ventures back home we are used to carrying our own loads and eating energy bars and PB&J sandwiches for days on end; the immense care that our guides bequeathed us with on this trip filled us with both humility and graciousness. The staff (plus yaks) carried massive baskets slung from their heads, wore flimsy sandals, and provided us with three delicious, 6-course-meals a day and endless tea. We never lifted a finger, except to make our way up to almost 17,000 feet...

Lauren enjoying a typical breakfast of porridge, pancakes, eggs, cornflakes and tea. On our first day we started from the town of Yuksom (5700 ft), hiking 12 miles up to this idyllic mountain village, Tsohka (10,000 ft). Unlike trekking in other parts of India, this trek was largely wilderness area, protected in the Singalila National park. Besides a few other clusters of huts, this was the only real village we passed through. Sold locally: candy bars, hand-knit yak woolens, and the much appreciated fermented millet beer, served warm.

A view back down on Tsohka as we head off on our second morning.

One of the truly special aspects about this trek is that, as it ventures up through over 10,000 feet of elevation gain, it incorporates a wildly diverse range of landscapes. We started our trek in a lush jungle, rising next into a vast and magnificent rhododendron forest, seen in the above and below pictures.

Countless species of rhododendrons twisted and tangled in thickets, forming mossy archways and coloring the path with blooms.

As we trekked on, villages disappeared but lonesome trekker-huts remained our sleeping quarters. Though they kept out rain and hail, these weathered, simple stone and wood huts were cold and drafty. This hut was by far the most luxurious, including mattresses and mostly sealed windows. Luckily, we were loaned warm North-Fake sleeping bags, though this was the only decent gear provided.

Day three took us to Dzongri, an isolated site with a hut and Sikkimese woman who served us warm Thongba, the local millet beer. At just shy of 14,000 feet, the temperatures and lack of oxygen started taking it's toll. As such, we remained in Dzongri for day four, though we took a beautiful hike in the morning up a couple of passes to 14,500 ft (aiding with acclimatization), reaching some of our first stunning views of the tall snowy mountains (above & below).

This trek took place in Western Sikkim, near the border of Nepal, in the Kanchenjunga Range of the Himalayas. We were surrounded by limitless, immense glacier filled mountains, rising well over 20,000 feet.

These thankless beasts trudged over incredibly trying terrain loaded with a couple hundred pounds of our comforts. Not traditional Yaks, they are known as Dzo, a male hybrid of a Yak and domestic cow. Yak-men are equally as colorful- singing, yelping, whistling, and kicking the beasts around.

After hiking up several steep passes and through vast plateaus, we dropped down into an incredibly scenic riverbed. The river, part moraine, was chocked with large polished boulders and a milky-white, flowing river. This river led us up to our 4th and 5th nights at Tansing.

Tansing provided a crumbling stone hut amidst an absolutely stunning valley floor, surrounded by massive mountains and hanging glaciers. Upon arriving here we had a couple hours of wonderful sun, enjoying a game of cricket with our staff, until the Himalayas gave us a glimpse of it's power to change weather in the blink of an eye. We huddled in our sleeping bags for a few hours while raging winds, hail, and snow blanketed the valley and surrounding peaks. The storm cleared as quickly as it came (above picture) and brought gorgeous weather for our big push of the trek up to Goechela Pass, starting at 2 AM the next morning.

We walked for a few hours in the snow and dark, climbing steadily up the valley, arriving at our first viewpoint of Goechela Pass for a mind-blowing sunrise (16,000 ft). It was at this point that we were truly immersed in the Kanchenjunga Range, feeling tiny among these giants. It was also incredibly cold and the path was becoming a bit slippery; it took some coaxing to get our guide to continue for the next couple hours.

We continued through the desert-like valley in a cirque of tall rocky peaks and jagged glaciers.


After breathlessly climbing up snow-covered scree and boulders we reached our final two view points (17,000 feet) exposing Kanchenjunga (the third highest mountain in the world) in all it's glory (seen above, behind Jay). The view of the surrounding Indian and Nepali Himalayan peaks was magical.

The snow melted and the skies stayed clear for a marvelous, long hike back to Tansing. We spent the next three days hiking back to Yuksom, back through the valley and steep ridges, thick rhododendron forests, small villages, and wet jungles. Our hiking was done in the short and early sun, as we were plundered by incredibly powerful storms in the afternoons and evenings. Beer and pizza upon arrival back in Yuksom.

Darjeeling and around

Darjeeling, in northern West Bengal, was our first entry into the Himalayan hills (before the trek), and as we climbed up the perilously steep ridge in our shared jeep, the cool air misting into the windows awarded us the much needed relief from the heat of the previous weeks spent in the lowlands. Now, after having spent a few weeks all over the northern India, in and around the Himalayas, we must comment that these northern territories feel like a completely different country than everything we experienced further south. The hot, bustling, in-your-face Indian cities are exhilarating, but can be draining over time. Up north the energy is peaceful and the people are incredibly mannered and kind comparatively. Life moves slower. Though we haven't been, we hear it's much more comparable to Nepal.

Unfortunately, our camera chip picked up a virus from a computer so many of our pictures of Darjeeling were ruined. The city is a magnificent sprawl over a steep ridge, surrounded by the famed tea plantations and a backdrop of Himalayas. The town is composed of beautiful colonial buildings and steep narrow streets perfect for wandering.


We took a two hour joy ride on Darjeeling's toy-train, steaming it's way on two-foot wide tracks alongside cliffs and wide valleys. This renowned narrow-gauge railway, birthed in 1881, is one of the last of its kind in the world.



The rail-line coexisting with a typical street.


By far the tastiest and most enjoyable meals we eat in all of India take place in tiny shops like this one. Places like these are rarely visited by Westerners, and its really wonderful to sit down with locals and learn bits about each other. As we ventured up north, the fare became heavily Tibetan influenced, including Momo's (rice dough stuffed with veggies and steamed) and Chow mien.


Yuksom is the charming and historic little mountain town where we began our trek into the Kanchenjunga Range.


This is by no means a slum, but rather a typical living community that are found all over and around urban cities. Slums, however, are also very prevalent and usually found just a bit further outside cities. Looking into the slums from slow-moving trains is eye-opening and depressing, as they are truly filthy- places you would wish no human to have to bare, yet they're home to millions.
This river is used for bathing, defecating, leisure swimming, laundry, trash and sometimes body disposal (as we witnessed). Needless to say, sanitation is appalling and a major problem. While India continues to develop at an incredible rate in some sectors, contributing to its role as a world power, there remain some major social, health, and economic issues that we have been moved by and feel will hinder the whole of India's progression in the future. Everyday we witness cruel tones of the caste system.

Weaving through train stations overloads the senses with hawkers of all sorts yelling and vying for your attention. Rickshaws, autorickshaws, and taxis line up in the hundreds.

Varanasi

Welcome to one of the oldest and holiest cities in India, Varanasi, a 15 hour train ride east of Delhi. Also known as the City of Life due to its perch on the western bank of the Ganges river, Hindu people travel great distances in order to wash away a lifetime of sins in the river. We were there only a couple of months before the big monsoon, and thus several-feet deep of grimy riverbed lay exposed. Unfortunately, the water appears more the murky cesspool type than the crystal holy water one might imagine. And though we wouldn't even imagine stepping foot in the river, it is often a local drinking source.

One of the central features of Varanasi are the 80 Ghats, with their long stretches of stairs leading down to the holy water. Each Ghat has it's own name, history and significance. They embody an immense amount of life and color with people from every walk of life (and caste) coming to bathe, swim, pray, eat, buy and sell...

Chopped trees tower through many streets to provide fuel for the constant public cremations. Varanasi is an especially auspicious place for Hindus to die as it offers liberation from the cycles of life and death. As such, funeral ceremonies are a major presence here. Bodies are carried down to be plunged in the river and then placed (alone) upon one of the massive bonfires, commonly in the "Manikarnika" (Burning) Ghat. Within the Untouchable Caste, the Doms are the ones in charge of handling the bodies and carrying out the cremation. Religious leaders and babies are released into the river without being cremated as they are considered to still be pure.

We rowed lazily down the river early in the morning to watch everyone's day begin- in various forms- in and along the river. We encountered a floating baby, creating in our minds a dichotomy between our western beliefs and cultural acceptance.

Behind the river lies a dense world of tangled yet beautiful cement and carved stone buildings, no two alike. The labyrinth of streets around our neighborhood, dark from the looming buildings, were barely two shoulders wide and turned us around at every corner. Our hotel is the white building just to the right of the central temple- our room the upperleft, red porch.