After doing the Everest trek I thought I was capable going solo, so I did the Annapurna Base Camp trek I went alone: no travel companions, no porter, no guide.
(First, some terminology. ABC is Annapurna Base Camp. MBC is Machhapuchhre Base Camp. EBC is Everest Base Camp. NBC is National Broadcasting Company.)
It was one of the most challenging things I've ever done. I wasn't sure it was a great idea. This is the Himalayas, after all, not a local state park. There was risk involved. If I were to get sick or injure my back again or fall off a cliff there would be no one there to help.
The altitude of the ABC trek is generally much lower than on the EBC trek. ABC is the highest point on the trek, at 4,100 meters. Even so, Acute Mountain Sickness (AMS), also called altitude sickness, is always a concern when hiking in Nepal. It's potentially fatal.
I wanted to test myself. This is the first and probably only time I'll ever come here. I wanted to prove to myself I could do it.
The lesson here, as always: I am a moron.
But my poor old body held up pretty good. I ended up doing 12 days of hiking in about 8.5 days. The first day was difficult. The second day was hell. By the third day I was praying for God to strike me down and end my misery. But eventually my body got used to the wear and tear and it was quite enjoyable.
But I'm getting ahead of myself. I had to delay my departure for two days due to local difficulties I can't really discuss without sounding culturally insensitive. I was really itching to get out of the city. I should have waited.
I didn't get AMS but I left for the trail even though I was suffering from it's lesser-known cousin, ALS: Awful Lasagne Syndrome.
I had been eating at the Everest Steak House at least once a day. I decided I should at least try another restaurant, so I went to an Italian place recommended by my guidebook. Even as I was eating my dinner I was thinking, "Oh, this is going to end badly". So I started the trek with a seriously upset stomach.
I stayed in Chhomrong, and was treated to a spectacular sunset. Heavy gray clouds cast inky shadows over the valley, but then started to recede, revealing the peak of Machhapuchhre, surely one of the world's most beautiful mountains. It was if I was there at the dawn of time, watching the mountain coalesce from the primordial ooze. It was truly eerie.
I took dozens of pictures of Machhapuchhre. It's like the supermodel of mountains. You can't take a bad picture of it. And you can't have it. (Climbing it is forbidden because it's sacred.) Its razor-sharp edges are fluted like a champagne glass, so it always looks different depending on the light and the clouds.
From Pokhara the name doesn't make much sense. It's only when you've circled around a bit that you can see the double summit that gives it it's name, which is Fishtail in English.
The third day was the worst day of hiking I've ever had. From Chhomrong the trail leads down an absurdly long and steep staircase to the river ... and then all the way back up again. And so it went, all the way to ABC.
This is looking back at Chhomrong (on the right), after the first hill.
I did this for nine hours. At the end of the day I thought this must be what it feels like to run a marathon. And then get hit by a cement truck.
The overall elevation change wasn't much but it was a constant series of ups and downs over steep, rocky terrain. I hadn't been hiking with a full pack since last year. And I didn't expect heat to be a factor in the Himalayas in November. Even with a lot of my gear sitting at my guest house in Pokhara it felt like I was carrying a grand piano full of molten lead.
My legs felt OK from the EBC hike -- I only carried a daypack -- but my hips weren't accustomed to carrying the weight. I felt like there was broken glass in the joints. I started fantasizing about giving away all my clothes and burning my backpack. I also berated myself for attempting the trek at all when I could be on a beach in Thailand.
For whatever reason I didn't encounter many people on the trail that day. So I was plodding along, lonely, miserable, tired and plagued by self-doubt. I contemplated turning back. But I kept moving, slow and steady, and found myself making decent progress. I even decided on a crazy plan.
I realized that if I pushed just a little further I would only have a short walk to ABC in the morning and could walk up there as the sun rose -- two days early! One problem with this plan was, aside from the physical difficulty, finding a bed. As the trail goes deeper into the mountains there are fewer lodges. Hikers in groups and even with just a personal porter or guide can send someone ahead to book a bed.
I was on my own.
I made it to the Shangri La lodge in Deorali at about 4:30.
The tent in front is where I slept. It was filthy, but I was overjoyed to have it. It's common for lodges to have sherpas and hikers sleep in the dining hall when all the beds are taken. Not only were all the benches spoken for, there were even people sleeping on the table.
I was off early the next morning and at ABC in time to watch the sun peek over the mountains. The area surrounding ABC is called the Annapurna Sanctuary, and with good reason. You really get a sense of your place in the universe when you're completely surrounded by snowcapped peaks.
I got there just as the sun was cresting my favorite mountain.
Here's a nice dramatic shot of Annapurna South.
And here is a 2-for-1 shot, with the shadow of Machhapuchhre on Annapurna South.
Annapurna I is the world's 10th-highest mountain, but because of the way its nested in the Sanctuary I didn't really get a good look at it until I was nearly at base camp. It's more of a wall than a mountain and, compared to its neighbors, rather plain, quite frankly.
It is also considered the world's deadliest mountain, with a 40 percent fatality rate. Forty percent! (Ironically, though, it was the first of the 8,000-meter peaks to be climbed.) One of its victims was Anatoli Boukreev, the villain/hero of John Krakauer's "Into Thin Air". Boukreev and his partner were lost in an avalanche on Christmas Day, 1997. There's a momument to them just below the prayer flags in the picture at the top of this post.
It was so beautiful I planned on staying two nights. I watch the sunrise. And then the storm rolled in. The temperature plummeted and the weather turned from blue skies to this.
When it started snowing it was time to leave. I planned on going as far as I could, but when I stopped for lunch it started raining buckets. So I stayed the night where I was, which happened to be the same place I had slept in the tent two nights earlier. This time, though, I had a bed! Woohoo!
The traditional ABC hike more or less heads back the same direction I came. I decided to cut over to Ghorepani, so I could see the Dhaulagiri Massif. I had seen a lot of the Annapurna Massif. It seemed a shame to come so close and not see the other gigantic wall of mountains the region is famous for.
In Tadapani I had a hard time dividing my attention between the awesome mountain views and the troop of langor monkeys playing in the trees right in front of my guesthouse. The two in the middle were kind enough to smile for the camera.
I had seen rhesus monkeys several times on the trail, while rafting and at the famous "Monkey Temple" in Kathmandu. No offense to them, but langors are more beautiful and more fun to watch. I love the contrast of their all-black faces surrounded by poofy, all-white manes.
I was really glad I took the detour the next day. It was one of the most enjoyable days of hiking I've ever had. Most of it was through cool, damp rhododendron forests over gentle trails. Earlier on the trek I had felt alone. That day I enjoyed the solitude. Big difference.
I followed a forested ridge where I got glimpses of Dhaulagiri I, the world's seventh-highest mountain. And then, just before I got to my final destination, there was a grassy knoll with an absolutely spectacular view of both mountain ranges. This was my first really good look at Dhaulagiri.
Amazingly, this spot has no name. The blue rooftops visible down below were my stopping point for the night. I was there nice and early so I found a room with a great view. I walked around to find the best place to look at the mountains and watch the sunset and startled when I discovered it was my room!
This is the view of the Kali Gandaki river valley, the world's deepest, from my window.
Dhaulagiri is impressive. Unlike Annapurna, Dhaulagiri towers above its neighbors, like a broken tooth. It's lumpy asymmetry makes it oddly endearing.
The reason people hike to this particular spot is to climb nearby Poon Hill to watch the sunrise. There are shorter loops of three to six days or so for which Poon Hill is the goal. I had talked to quite a few hikers who said it was a tourist hell. So of course I had to go and see for myself.
The sunset was good. The view was good. (The view from the anonymous grassy knoll the previous day was better, though.) The crowd was as awful as advertised. I woke at 4 a.m. hoping that I could beat the crowd and enjoy a few minutes of quiet. I was told the hike would take 90 minutes. But since I was hiking without a pack I felt like I was floating. I made it up in 35 minutes. The only other people for the first 20 minutes were the guys in the hut getting tea and coffee ready for tourists.
There were hundreds of people. From the observation tower I watched an endless series of headlamps ascend the hill, like the headlights in "Field of Dreams". I took a few photos and then left when the pushing and shoving began. This is looking down from the observation tower at the stairwell and the ground beneath.
I went back to the guesthouse, grabbed my pack, and hiked to Naya Pul, where I where I caught a cab back to Pokhara in time for lunch.
I felt so sorry for people coming the other way. Unlike other sections of the trail, this was all one way. Aside from a few dips it was all uphill for them. I flew down the stairs. It takes people three days to hike to Poon Hill, two if they really push it. I made it down in less than five hours.
Today I'm in Kathmandu. I fly to Bangkok tonight. I am thrilled to finally visit Southeast Asia for the first time, to check out the famous beaches and spicy food. But I was truly sad when I left Pokhara two days ago, realizing that it's probably the last time I'll ever wake up surrounded by the Himalayas.
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