The Dragon Path

 





 

The four day trek from my work site in Thimphu to the airport in Paro seemed to be the fitting end for this very eventful month.  Fortunately,  I was able to contact Tashi Wangdi, the lead guide from our 2013 REI Chomolhari Trek and he was happy to put together a trip with just one week notice.  Not an easy task--this is not a normal backpack with hi-tech light weight gear, but a full scale expedition with 5 staff, 8 ponies, baskets of fresh veggies and a huge propane tank, and an absolute need for a guide to take us over the criss-crossing maze of ancient trails that join the two towns.  With a little gentle persuasion the roster was filled out with two other HVO couples: Eric and Rita, an orthopedist and OB-GYN from Wenatchee, and Joe and Robin from Rochester, MN, an ER doc and free-lance writer turned elementary school ESL teacher.

Monk and friend at our lunch stop on day one, Phajoding monastery.  He held tight to his favorite dog, as 5 others followed us up the hill and for the rest of the trek.

 

By tradition, the guide picks the cook and the cook picks the rest of the staff to be sure they can all work together harmoniously.  Our team, who we dubbed the Merak Mafia, are all childhood friends from Tashi's home village in far Eastern Bhutan.  They grew up at 11,000 feet four hours' walk from the nearest road, and together attended a decrepid boarding school, sleeping on the bare floor with poor food, a constant infestation of lice and fleas and Indian teachers prone to corporal punishment.  Despite this, they perservered, and earned the priviledge of high school by making highest marks.  Tashi was able to gain a scholarship to university and excelled at English and geography, two topics which have served him well.

 

This trek is listed as"moderate" but don't be fooled.  The first day involves a quad-searing climb from 8300 feet, just above Thimphu, to the highest pass at 13,900 feet in the space of about 6 miles. 

 

Fog hits at Pumela Pass, 13,400 feet.  As we pass by an eerie sky burial site on a high peak, heavy rain and then hail and wind reduce visibility to about 50 feet.

Eric, Rita, Joe, Tashi and me.

No one stops for photos at Labana La Pass at 13,900 and we get a brief view of the camp far below before fog closes in again.  Rita, Eric and I are guided in by the sound of the bells on the grazing ponies.  I turn around just short of camp when I realize Joe and Robin are somewhere behind walking in the dense fog and deepening dusk.  With the help of my high-powered whistle and call and response of "Marco...Polo!" we find each other.  Now thoroughly cold and wet we hustle to camp for dry clothes and hot tea.  In spite of a pre-bedtime warm-up in the cook tent, a shot of whisky and a hot wtaer bottle I wake up freezing at 2:00 am and put on all my clothes in my sleeping bag, including fleece, puffy jacket and wind pants.

Rita contemplates a nice hot breakfast.

Our camp, viewed from high above.

 

 

Our pack string catches up.  Always stand to the high side of the trail!

Hanging prayer flags on a pass.  Careful, Joe--it's a long way down!

 

Me and my buddy.

Tashi, Dawa and Sangay with a mastif puppy they found at an abandoned yak-herders'  camp.  Sadly for Dawa, who had already named the pup Pela, the owner showed up and took possession.

Leki, our awesome camp cook, demonstrates the proper technique for making Bhutan's famous chili-cheese dish, ema datsi.

 

 

 

Okay, this is gonna burn.

Dawa the horseman shows that he is a serious pyromaniac.

Bonfire entertainment:  The Merak Mafia treated us to a night of Bhutanese dance and song, maybe fueled a little by the Special Courrier whiskey.

High ridge on day 3, a very long 12 miles of up and down.  These aren't "real" mountains since the snow doesn't stay year round.

Dawa the horse-whisperer.  The day before the trek he walked his pack string all the way from his home in Paro to our start point in Thimphu over a short cut.

At Jili Dzong with Tashi, our lead guide, spiritual master, translator, naturalist, historian and mom ("Don't eat as much as you want, eat as much as you can.")    A trek isn't just a walk in the woods, but a travelling lesson in Bhuddist philosophy, Bhutanese history, cuisine and culture and the creation of a very special bond between five American volunteers and five hard working Bhutanese.

 

At Jili Dzong I asked a question and rolled the dice for the monk.  They came up six, three and one.  The total of ten indicates a very auspicious possiblity of a return to Bhutan.