Pokhara (पोखरा) to Dhaulagiri trek 1986
Spending time with the hardest working people, and their mountains.
About 100 miles (~150 KM) from Kathmandu lies the smaller city of Pokhara (पोखरा). This is the usual start point for treks, and is a (very uncomfortable) bus ride from Kathmandu. It is somewhat unique in that it actually has a road from Kathmandu that a bus can use. There is even a Nepalese version of a motorway services part way; a layby where the locals sell fresh watermelons.
The trek itself lasted around two and a half weeks, of which one week was spent at the foot of Dhaulagiri. Those on the trek were myself, my parents, my brother, and two of my sisters. My older brother and sister, and I, walked the whole way. For a 6 year old, I feel that was quite an achievement. My younger sister was carried for a substantial part of it.
Our trek began at Pokhara, where we left all technology behind. No more phones, no more electricity, no more roads, no more vehicles. Not isolation, but immersion.
Wet crack.
Avian companion.
Our first view of Machapuchare, 6993 metres. Though not as high as many of the other mountains around it, Machapuchare is a far more impressive mountain in its appearance. It seems to stand almost solitary, above the green foothills to which we were becoming accustomed.
The young boy in the photograph was about the same age as me. His life expectancy is about 45 years. He is now a little over 25, and is middle aged. Most of the adults in these pictures have a life expectancy of a little over 30 years. Most of them will be dead by now. Living in our abstracted society, this is a little hard to accept. I was meeting teenagers twenty years ago in Nepal, who have now died from old age. Those born now, can expect to live until they are 60; still not on a par with western countries, but substantially better than when I visited.
School fields.
Being close to the city, this village actually has mains power. It would be the last.
Nepal is an overwhelmingly Hindu. As such, cows are a sacred (wrong word - revered is more accurate) animal. This cow is "blessing" the village water supply.
Rice being picked in the paddy fields.
A barn has its own strawstack, made from rice straw.
Our Trek was in November, well away from the monsoon season, but that does not mean it does not rain. When it rains, it rains hard. Hard enough that this village develops a poorly placed stream, running between the houses (like the Pepsi sign, by the way?).
Oxbows in the swolen river.
Everywhere in the foothills, the mountain slopes were stepped into terraced paddy fields, where the locals scratch their living.
The woman on the left is the subject of this photo. As for the others, they just decided to join in. The woman is an orange seller. She sold us some small sweet oranges, similar to clementines, that are green when ripe (can they really be called oranges?). She carries them in a basket on her back, held in place using a strap across her forehead. This is the normal way that Nepali people carry things, almost always using a head strap. However, she does not seem to be doing well enough with her business, as she cannot even afford to buy shoes, yet she walks the mountains barefoot. Never underestimate these people.
Hotel Shiva. And in case you were wondering, that small blond child running out the front is me. These "hotels" are not really so much hotels as hostels. For your money, you will get Nepalese tea (the unique smell of which remains with me to this day), food, and a small room with a warm, comfortable plank (yes, I mean it) for the night.
A Nepalese family at Hotel Shiva.
Terraced houses.
Rising above the valley. Note the unusual round house in the village below.
A perched village on the edge of the ridge.
Across the valley; a scattered village with houses randomly placed around the paddy fields.
Local boy in a photograph.
Rising over the ridge, we get a glimpse of Annapurna South. At 7219 metres, this is the smallest of the 6 Annapurna summits over 7000 metres high.
Successful hunter.
Pig family, better known as food.
Jumping goats, also known as food.
Looking down into the valley. We have climbed quite a long way up now, but the path will rise and fall several times, as much as a kilometre each time.
Splash of colour.
Narrow valley.
Flower garden.
Most major river crossings are done using these suspension bridges. Their materials need nothing more than humans to carry and prepare.
Evening sky above a subtropical jungle.
On this part of the walk, Machapuchare was our ever present companion. We would spend a week walking around its base.
Machapuchare rises very steeply from its base, and ascends to twin peaks, earning its name, meaning "Fish Tail". The summit is considered sacred, and has never been climbed - the only expedition to get close intentionally stopped short of the summit out of respect for its spiritual significance.
A final look the next morning before we set off again.
When there is too much for humans to carry, the mule trains take over. Whether carrying produce to markets, or supplies to homes, these mules are everywhere. They walk on the same paths as people, and cause a large amount of wear and tear to the bridges.
The first few mules in a train will have ornate head dresses, and carry bells that clang as they walk, telling people to get out of the way.
Us discussing the finer parts of fruit with a Nepali.
My family.
Valley barns.
A praying mantis, perhaps the best known of the stick/leaf insects (though not strictly one of them).
Waterfall.
Around the next corner, and wouldn't you know it, Machapuchare again.
Such a beautiful mountain. Like something a child would draw, something out of imagination, not reality.
A pleasant little river valley, that I could easily imagine being in Norway. There is a giveaway, though; the path on the right shows a now-familiar sight, a mule train.
The waterfall from above.
Upper waterfalls.
Preparing the paddy fields for planting. Without tractors, or any other vehicles in fact, they use cattle to pull the plough - a style of farming that is never seen at home any more, except as part of ploughing competitions or displays.
Crossing a narrow wooden bridge, made from a few narrow logs laid side by side; the type of bridge used for smaller rivers - I cannot imagine it being useful in monsoon season. The pack this Nepali person is carrying is as large as a fullgrown adult, though it looks like it probably only weighs half as much.
Did we just step into Italy by mistake? The basket gives it away.
Sunset lighting the top of the foothills.
See you.
Due to the amount of human and mule traffic over them, the suspension bridges regularly get a few holes where the odd plank is missing. So what do they do? Replace them? Oh no, of course not. They wedge a rock in the hole (don't trip over it). When the holes get too big for rocks, then they assume you will see them for yourself, so they leave them open.
Now having worked our way around it for a while, Annapurna South reminds us of its presence, peering through the blossoming trees. The further east you go, the better it looks.
Evidently a well off village, not only are they stone built instead of the usual mud, but they also have slate roofs.
After some clanging of bells, we meet another mule train. These animals are not aware of etiquette. Their approach is to follow the path, no matter what, and if you are on it, that means they will knock you over or trample you. The warning bells are there to tell you to get out of their way, because there is no way they will get out of yours. Imagine meeting this on a narrow path on a cliff edge.
The people of Nepal are of a very small stature; typically about 5 foot (1.5 metres). But their stature should not be taken as a sign of their strength. They are far stronger than their western counterparts, and have significantly more stamina, which is why the Nepalese Gurkhas were so highly prized by the British military. These men are carrying more than their own bodyweights in building materials for a new bridge, which they are carrying across the country by foot. Their low life expectancy shows the results of this lifestyle. These people work themselves into an early grave.
Finally we see our first "eight thousander" peak. As we start our climb up Poon Hill, we are rewarded with the view accross to Annapurna I (left) and Annapurna South (right). Annapurna I, at 8091 metres high, is the tenth highest mountain in the World.
Annapurna I. Aka. Annapurna 1.
Annapurna South, looking its best.
As we get higher, at last we get a view of my personal favourite mountain, Dhaulagiri. At 8167 metres high, this is the seventh highest mountain in the World. In front of the south face, it drops down to the valley below, with a total height above the valley of almost 7000 metres, the highest rise above local terrain of any mountain (with the exception perhaps of Mauna Kea's submerged slopes)..
The south face of the main peak of Dhaulagiri is a tremendous 4000 metre cliff, dropping down through the snowline at 6000 metres to land on the foothills the same distance again below. This in itself is easily one of the World's highest single cliffs (though it slopes slightly, so is not completely vertical).
On the far edge of the Annapurna Himal is the Nilgiri range, with a maximum height of 7134 metres.
Himalaya (हिमालय) literally means "snow abode". A range of mountains that are joined together above the permanent snow line (this is not a strict rule), are referred to as a Himal. Visible here are two Himals, the Dhaulagiri Himal to the left, and the Annapurna (अन्नपूर्न) Himal to the right. Between them lies the Kali Gandaki; a tributary of the Ganges River (गंगा) running in the World's deepest gorge/valley between the two Himals, 6800 metres deep at its deepest point, and 5500 metres at its shallowest. This breathtaking panorama was brought to you from the summit of Poon Hill.
Poon Hill is a well known vantage point on the trail, and offers some of the best panoramic views of this part of the Himalaya, including two eight thousanders. This is Dhaulagiri, and the 6920 metre high Tukuche peak (often mispronounched "Touché").
Just short of our altitude record at the top of Poon Hill. The height is variousy quoted as 3193 metres and 3210 metres, the latter being written on the marker post at the summit. I will believe the second one until someone proves otherwise. To be honest, in an area with two 8000 metre peaks, those 17 metres do not really make much of a difference.
On the way down Poon Hill, we meet - yep - another mule train. One of the longest we had seen, with mules in their hundreds.
Back down 1000 metres into civilisation.
The steep slopes of Dhaulagiri. And a cow.
A convenient place to build.
Paddy on the rocks.
More building materials, being carried by an insanely strong Nepali. This coil of bridging wire was easily the heaviest load we had seen anyone carry.
Kali Gandaki, running between the foothills.
When is it my turn to cross? Approaching Tatopani.
The Nilgiri range.
Small lizard.
A house perched on the edge of the gorge - I wonder how long it will remain here. I should probably mention toilets about now. The local villages do not use toilets. They have a field that is used as one, and they all share this field. The tourists are usually given a public toilet; namely a small outhouse with a hole in the floor into a stream. Or sometimes a river. The most memorable one overhung a cliff like this, and was held in place with wooden struts. Of course, downstream, the next town takes water from the river, and uses it to make their (and your) tea and dahl baht. During and after this trek, some of us (me) suffered from an upset stomach for as much as a month.
One of the many little village clusters at Tatopani. Tatopani is well known for having a natural hot spring and pool, where locals and tourists actually get to have a hot bath. Without having electricity, heating, or mains water, most Nepali would never get the chance to have a hot bath, so this is a rare treat.
Annapurna peering over the foothills.
A narrow cleft is the source of a waterfall on the side of the path.
Or four.
On the entire trek, we encountered this single progressive village. Progressive in that it had a small hydroelectric turbine hooked up to the waterfall stream, and provided enough electricity to light the lightbulbs of a couple of houses.
In a nearby village, monkeys could be seen climbing up and down a nearby cliff. While looking at them through binoculars, my father demonstrated binoculars to a local Nepali. In pure shock at the magic of them, the entire village was called out and queued up to see through the binoculars.
A monkey leaving a stain on the cliff. The speed that these monkeys moved up the cliff would put rock climbers to shame; less like climbing, more like running.
A deeper part of the Kali Gandaki. Hidden above the foothills, the sides rise up to the peaks of Annapurna and Dhaulagiri, nearly 7000 metres above.
It is about time I introduced you to Jetta, our porter. We hired him to carry whatever we could not, and he accompanied us for the trek. Jetta had carried us to the top of this boulder for the picture, having walked up the steep side in his plimsolls.
Twin waterfall.
Flowers in orange.
Flowers in yellow.
Flowers in red, sporting the zebra-stripe fashion.
A little black number.
Bouldery path with Tukuche Peak showing around the corner.
Lete, I think.
Nilgiri, up close, with its superb spire peak.
The tremendous amphitheatre between Dhauligiri's main peak and Tukuche peak, with the east Dhaulagiri glacier. This is one of the views that was so rewarding, it has remained firmly in my memory ever since.
East Dhaulagiri glacier.
Peter in front of Nilgiri. Now it is time to turn around and begin our way back along a slightly different route.
Disintegrating cliffs on the Kali Gandaki. See the houses in the fields at the top for scale.
A narrow side valley.
A cliff path.
Above the gorge.
Big lizard.
Cascades.
The west face of Annapurna I.
Sherpas, with really small packs.
Human haystack.
Sediment ridges in the river, against a backdrop of Nilgiri and Annapurna.
Washing up in the village water supply. Many of the local children almost never come into contact with water. When cleaning the cut on a Nepali boy, his skin changed colour - apparently some of his pigmented skin actually turned out to be just dirt (and that is not a joke).
Cacti.
What I think is a smoking house - for smoking meat, not tobacco.
Village children.
Mountain home.
A recent landslide wiped out the trail.
So a new footpath was forged across it. This shot gives a great cross-sectional view through the paddy fields.
Going to get upset with me for displaying injuries? Yeah, I wasn't paying enough attention and tripped over on the way over the landslide - and I also forgot to use my hands to stop myself falling. Almost looks like a tika (aka. tilak or bindi), and I still have the scar from it.
The locals (sporting a fashionable outfit) look on in shock.
A Nepali baby.
Back at Annapurna, the Himal is shrouded in cloud.
Hiunchuli (6441 metres) peak, with Annapurna South covered by cloud.
Clouds over Annapurna South.
Annapurna I peering through the clouds.
Annapurna I and South, and Hiunchuli at sunset.
Sunset clouds.
Sheep herding.
Ploughing on the allotment.
Stone buildings.
Another bridge with holes, this time filled in with large rocks.
Suckling at the mother's teat.
A narrow valley through the foothills.
A larger valley, on its way to join the downstream Kali Gandaki.
Taking pictures of people in Nepal is a risky business. Those who lived near the tourist trails were beginning to lose their traditional culture - the culture that I admire, and were reverting to basically begging for money from tourists. Begging disguised as a business. You may take a picture of mountains, and suddenly a head appears over a nearby wall, convinced that it had been in your picture, and demands "one Rupee" for the privilege. At that time, one Rupee was equivalent to about 4 pence in UK money - about 16 pence ($0.31, €0.24) by today's standards. Hardly anything to us, but enough to buy a complete meal in the money starved country of Nepal. The tourists were like millionaires to the locals, and as such, were fair game for begging.
Hostel flag.
A distant view of Phewa Tal.
A great view of the Annapurna Himal, with Annapurna south and Hiunchuli on the left, and Machapuchare on the right. In between them is the way into the Annapurna basecamp in the Annapurna Sanctuary.
Annapurna and Machapuchare at sunset. Just peering over the back are Khangsar Kang (7485 metres) and Gangapurna (7454 metres).
Looking over to the end of the Himal (probably Lamjung).
Annapurna IV (7525 metres) and II (7939 metres).
Back at the Hotel Shiva, with Annapurna South overlooking.
Sawing joists.
Piglets, like a row of small sausages.
Whispering sweet nothings.
A bizzare tree, where roots grow from the branches instead of the trunk.
Another human haystack, female this time.
Phewa Tal by Pokhara, with Machapuchare, Annapurna III (7555 metres), Annapurna IV, Annapurna II, and the Lamjung Himal (6932 metres) in the background.
Boating on Phewa Tal, success, the trek is complete.