I met Gopal (my guide) in the morning. We hopped in a car from Kathmandu to the trailhead in Sundarijal and set out for the day’s goal—Chisapani. At a reasonable pace, you can reach it in a few hours or less. We took over half a day. Gopal was an amiable, laid-back fella with serious motivation issues, a “stop and smell the roses” type. And by “smell the roses,” I mean “smoke the pot.” A lot of pot. He was unpleasantly surprised to discover I was more interested in the journey than a slo-mo marijuana-infused jaunt. Previous hikers set a precedent. He assumed a young-ish American would be on board. His disappointment was palpable. Lunch was a two-hour affair cooked from scratch. Slow season? Dunno, but the holdup was borderline excruciating. I was ready to forge ahead solo…
Read MoreThe region didn’t open to tourism until 1992. Access doesn’t come cheap and there’s an annual quota of a thousand visitors. A permit runs $500 a person but requires at least two per permit. Otherwise, it’s a cool grand for solo endeavors. (Sadly, locals see little of this money.) This explains my dawdling in Thamel an extra week. I was waiting for an elder German couple to arrive for a permit ménage à trois. No one gave them a heads up on the third-wheel scenario. Hansel and Gretel were none too pleased Team America would be joining their love adventure.
Was I willing to drop a $1000? Rationally, no, but I was light years from rational. The seed had been planted. No way to reign in my giddiness…
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