Dumbo was a no-show. We did, however, meet some wild bison (gaur). Weighing in at around 2,500 lbs, they’re not to be trifled with. The two we saw were angry, but not with us. Mating issue? Territorial dispute? Both? There was a moment of tension when, as we passed the area where they'd entered the tall grass, we heard a sudden crash and scream (a cross between a pissed-off wookie and a cow in heat) of a fast-moving beast. Not knowing their destination, we hauled ass toward a nearby hill. I nearly soiled myself but had to laugh when I spotted Denis halfway up a tree. They proceeded in the opposite direction and were content with kicking each other’s asses…
Read MorePeople celebrate by dousing one another with water and plastering friends and strangers alike with a shitload of colored powders, especially red—a massive water fight in Technicolor. It lasts for a night and a day, beginning on the last full moon during the Hindu calendar’s lunar month at winter’s end. Thamel’s streets were jovial chaos on the 1st of March.
I had no clue and hadn’t bothered to check for upcoming festivals. I only learned of the impending celebrations after a bag of water narrowly missed my noggin on a casual stroll the evening before everything kicked off. The assassins attacked from a nearby balcony. I was not amused…
Read MoreA funny thing happened en route to Tengboche, something difficult to describe. I think it only happens when you’re alone and somewhat unguarded. Per usual, I took a less-traveled route, which led back to the Hotel Everest View and then along a ridge that was more of a yak trail than a trekking path. I was struck by an odd awareness, a presence that gripped hold and wouldn’t let go.
It’s safe to say there’s an underlying energy or force pervading the universe and everything in it. The source. The terminus. The beginning. The end. It has a thousand different names ascribed by a thousand different peoples…
Read MoreBack at my lodge, I experienced what was to become a familiar sentiment from guides along the trail. There’s an undercurrent of resentment toward lone wolves hitting the trail without a guide who choose to carry their belongings. They view it as depriving a Nepali guide or porter of much-needed income while leeching off the well-tread paths established by years of Sherpa diligence. There’s merit to this, which is why I made every effort to hire a guide before leaving Kathmandu, visiting a dizzying number of trekking agencies.
No one would consider my needs, damn it. (Therapy, anyone?) They were all hell-bent on standard itineraries with zero room…
Read MoreBack at the guesthouse, the sunroom was overrun by mature Irish tourists who looked as if someone had just mowed them down with a submachine gun. They were shattered. All appeared to be passed out. First time in the Himalayas? The day before, it was a Japanese entourage enjoying the valley views from the sun room’s relative comfort. When they departed, I noticed a man being carried on the back of the Japanese liaison/guide they'd brought from Japan. Yes, stereotypes are offensive, but for the love of everything holy! That’s so “Japanese tourist” trope, it’s almost beyond belief. Almost.
What dreams may come? Mine were bonkerballs bananas…
Read MoreI can’t deny it. Going it alone made me nervous. It also adrenalized the shit out of me. Would I get lost? Be eaten by a yeti? Hit by a meteorite? Those were the obvious risks, but my trepidation centered on the mundane—altitude sickness, broken ankle, cuts, scrapes, tooth decay, painful gas, etc. In tandem with a fellow adventurer, the risk was mitigated, but alone, a minor obstacle could turn deadly, especially if I were the only person to cross that day. It’s wise to bring a buddy. Really. I had no buddy. Me, myself, and I. Would I prefer a compadre and/or guide? You bet your ass. But we work with what we have…
Read More