Annapurna Circuit, Nepal

Anyone who knows me well knows I'm not much of an outdoorsman. For me a long trek lasts a weekend at most, and my idea of camping nearly always involves a car. I'm clumsy. I dropped out of the Boy Scouts to edit my school newspaper and I can barely use a compass, much less read a map. All the same though, I decided that while I was in Nepal I should take advantage of the opportunity to hit the trails. After taking careful stock of the routes available to me, I decided I'd take the longest, most challenging one I could find that didn't involve mountaineering. I decided to tackle the Annapurna Circuit.

The treks in Nepal are world class, and the most popular of all them is the Annapurna Circuit. It takes nearly three weeks to complete, and local guide companies give it a grade of Medium-Hard. It rises to a elevation of 5416 meters at its highest point and provides stunning views of the Annapurna Mountain range from which it derives it's name. The mountain trails that comprise it wind through some of the most diverse landscapes this country has to offer, and it has the added advantage of not requiring days of backtracking to complete. It also introduces hikers to a wide array of the local mountain communities that comprise so much of Nepal's population outside the Kathmandu Valley. On the Annapurna Circuit you are nearly never more than two hours away from a local tea-house, or small village with ample accommodation. The entire trek can be completed without ever having to pitch a tent.

Taking on this trek may have been brazen of me, but I'm not stupid. Which is why I decided to hire a guide through a local company that could lead me safely along the path and help me carry the belongings I'd need with me along the way. My guide, Om, was a twenty-five year old Nepali native with a goofy smile and an endless supply of corny jokes. He sang, screamed, and laughed his way through our long days with a level of energy and enthusiasm I thought only young children could possess. The guys at the trekking company refer to him as “funny,” though I think “crazy” could possibly be more appropriate. Nevertheless his services were invaluable to me. There was no way I could have completed the trek without him, and I am eternally grateful to him for his support and friendship.

What follows are excerpts from the diary I kept during the seventeen days it took us to complete the circuit:

Day 1
Today I awoke early at 5:15am to do my final preparations for the hike. Om met me around six and we took a short taxi ride to the bus station. The bus was local. Small and cramped. It seemed to stop every five minutes so that passengers could jump on and off. Here, as in most countries I've visited one can board a bus merely by waiting alongside the road and flagging it down. Bus terminals and official stops are found only in town centers where along with new passengers, the bus is raided by children selling bottles of water and men peddling cheap flutes, plastic toys, and numerous kinds of snacks.

The bus ride seemed to last forever, but thankfully the scenery was beautiful. The lush vegetation of Nepal comes as a welcome relief after weeks of dull brown landscapes in Egypt and Jordan.

I'm still a little nervous about the hike. Twenty-one days is a long time, and I can only hope I'm fit enough to handle it. Tonight we will be staying at a hotel in the small city of Besi Sahar and leaving for our adventure first thing in the morning.

Day 2
Today we started our hike around 8am. The walk was beautiful. Winding around mountains, past steeply tiered rice fields, and criss-crossing back and forth across the Marsyangdi River. There were several suspension bridges along the way and a few points where we needed to remove our shoes to cross small streams that fed the mighty water mass below.

It was a six hour trek, and thankfully was not that demanding. The change in altitude was not drastic, but most of the uphill climb was towards the end- during the hottest part of the day.

Day 3
Trekking in Nepal during the monsoon season is far from ideal. It started raining late last evening and lasted into mid-day. Much of the trail today was under water from run-off higher up the mountains. It made for slow but steady going. On a positive note however, along with the rain comes an increase in the size and beauty of the many waterfalls that line the valley.

Due to the downpour Om thought it best if we called it an early day and we stopped around 1:30pm in Jagat, a small village that used to function as a toll station back when the salt trade route wound through these hills. Nowadays it seems as if this town's main economy comes from tourism and the farming of corn. You can see this crop being stacked, shucked, and hauled everywhere in town. On arrival corn on the cob was the first thing we were served here. It was delicious and a real treat after two days of rice and dahl.

Day 5
Today we met up early on with a couple of women from California named Tracy and Rita. As much as I enjoy trekking with Om it was nice to have some other people to talk to. We gained 800 meters of elevation today and are now walking in the fog instead of below it.

Om told us today how lucky we are to be doing our trekking now rather than a few years ago. Apparently Maoists soldiers used to stop tourists at gunpoint and charge them a “fee” for using these trails. It was basically robbery, but the government was powerless to stop it.

Now the Maoists are the government, and are too busy ripping off the locals to bother with shaking down tourists. However all along these trails you can still see their hammer and sickle logo spray-painted along with their slogan, “Join the Maoist Revolution!”

Day 6
Another easy day. A short five hours to Lower Pisang hiking our way though thick pine tree forests. The landscape here reminds me a lot of home. On the one hand this is nice, but on the other hand it makes me quite home-sick. If I could choose right now I'd skip India entirely and just head straight to Boston from Nepal. But by purchasing my ticket I've once again locked myself in for the duration. And it's only another few weeks, right?

There are a large number of other trekkers staying here at the the Hotel Maya with us tonight, Along with the Californians we've been joined by three Israeli's named Yael, Ori, and O, as well as an Australian named Charlie. We played rounds of cards and drank steaming cups of milk tea to ward off the cold.

The village we're staying in tonight is especially beautiful. A number of old grey wooden houses are interspersed among the usual array of gaily colored wood hotels. Most all of the buildings here have the same corrugated metal roofs that are so common on homes in third world countries. To the north of town we can see the beautiful sight of Upper Pisang, an equally old collection of grey and blue buildings sitting atop a high hill covered in red buckwheat flowers. Prayer flags flutter from the tops of the roofs and crowning the village is a white and gold monastery with a pagoda style roof top. I can't believe how lucky I am to be doing this.

Day 7
Today we made it as far as Manang, a village that sits at 3540 meters above sea level. We will spend two nights here acclimatizing to the high altitude before we head up and across the pass.

Sometimes it's hard to believe we are at such high altitude. It's not like Kinabalu where you're climbing a mountain and you see the world dropping away quickly below you. Here the gains are more subtle and there are always higher peaks around you to make you forget how far up you really are.

The trail for the most part is wide and there are few points of actual danger along the way. The hardest part really is the endurance aspect. Day after day of pressing on despite bad weather, wet clothes, and occasional home-sickness. The worst of it will be over soon, but there are still many days of switchbacks and elevation gains ahead.

Day 9
Today we reached 4000 meters. It was a short walk, but the beginning was steep and my breathing is getting heavy and shallow. The path has become quite rocky and at times slightly narrower. The sky is clearing up and much of the day we had an excellent view of the mountains.

We've been joined on our journey by an old friend of Om's named Mukti and a young New Zealander named Kyle. But as we've gained members, we've lost some as well. Our Israeli friends have taken ill, and along with that they've fallen behind. I hope they catch up with us as it would be a shame not to see them again, but we have to keep going. They have a local porter with them so there is no reason for us to worry for their safety.

Around 1pm or so we reached Yak Kharka. There was a large field of yaks nearby. White, back, brown, and mixed colors. We watched them eat grass, fight, dig holes, and try to impress possible mates, They are strange Muppet-like creatures with their long matted hair and shaggy trails. There was even a white and brown spotted baby one that looked like an overgrown sheep dog.

Day 10
It was a short day today, but the last hour was the hardest part yet. We gained a total of 907 meters today, 475 meters of which was done in the last hour. We are staying the night at High Base Camp just up from Thorung Phedi. It's cold up here at 4925 meters.

I notice I have a slight headache developing and I can tell I'm more easily irritable. I don't think I'm developing altitude sickness, but I can tell that the height we're at is effecting me.

Day 11
Up and over the pass. Our day started early. We woke up at 5am, breakfast at 5:30, and we hit the trail by 6am. It took us a good two and a half hours to reach the highest point of 5416 meters. Rita was pretty sick on the way up, and my headache got worse. But once we reached the top it was all smiles and group photographs in front of the hundreds of flapping prayer flags that adorn the summit.

Just as we were throwing our bags on to leave, a goat herder came marching up the path shooing along his large and lively flock. One particularly rebellious goat strayed momentarily up a hill and was reprimanded with a swift stone thrown at his side!

It was extremely cold and windy at the summit so we began our decent reasonably quick. It didn't take long for the path to change to a steep, precarious, and unstable rocky, downward slope.

The first part looked to be a no-man's land. Nothing in sight except dull brown hills and a slippery path of sharp stones. The snow-capped peaks slipped away behind a mass of clouds and the only sound besides the harsh winds was the jovial singing of our group's three guides.

After an eternity of going down, the harsh brown environment have way to mossy hills, and the stone path was occasionally broken up by grassy plateaus. My right knee began to ache fiercely, smarting with each step. Around 1:30pm we reached Muktinath a small village that seems like a metropolis after the solitary tea houses of the last few days. With internet, guest houses, and even a counterfeit 7-11, Muktinath has all the comforts a weary traveller could hope for, or at least all one could expect.

Day 12
We woke up around 7am this morning and made a pre-breakfast hike up to the monastery in Muktinath. There was a Hindu temple there as well as a Buddhist one. Before entering the Hindu temple one must splash themselves on the head with water that pours out from a long series of bird head fountains. Only Nepali and Indians are allowed inside the temple so us westerners waited outside while our guides said their prayers.

A couple of sadhu (Hindu holy men) from India were sitting near the temple with red dots and long dreadlocks passing back and forth a hash pipe within sight of two police. Hash is illegal in Nepal but apparently this law does not apply to the holy men for whom smoking the drug is part of their religion.

After breakfast we set out on our trek which was a short two and a half hours. Around ninety minutes into it at a literal fork in the road we split off from Rita and Tracy as they headed to Jomsom to fly the rest of the way back to Pokhara. We'd been traveling together for over a week and I was quite sad to see them go. We all shook hands and waved goodbye, then set off in our respective directions.

Day 14
Today was a long day but we made excellent progress. Eight hours from Larjung to Tatopani. We met back up with the Israeli's along the way. They were in better health than when we had last seen them and told us that they had gotten so sick that they had to take horses across the pass. They were headed the same way as us, but they were in a jeep when we first saw them. Later on in the afternoon we met up with them on foot to finish the days journey.

We have been hiking full days since leaving Kagbeni and are running ahead of schedule. Therefore we will be spending two nights in Tatopani so we can relax and regain our strength. There is a hot spring here where for the equivalent of fifty-cents we can sit and soak ourselves for as long as we like in warm medicinal waters. My calves are still aching from the decent down the pass, but thankfully my knee has long since stopped hurting.

This town has so many amenities I almost feel like I'm in civilization again. Prices are significantly lower here and I can afford simple luxuries like laundry service and Coca-Cola. I am thankful for the rest day tomorrow as the last two days of the hike will be long and taxing. But at last the end is in sight.

Day 16
Today was the day we'd all been dreading. Long, arduous hours of steep and steady climbing. It feels somewhat defeating after coming down all that way the last few days to be going back up. We gained nearly 1700 meters today putting us back at the 2860 meter mark. Our guides had predicted it would take us eight hours to make the climb, but we all pushed hard and made it in six.

In Ghorepani we were treated by the hottest shower any of us has had in weeks. I can't explain to you just how refreshing it felt.

Day 17
We woke up at 4:00am this morning to head up to Poon Hill to see what was supposed to be the best view of the mountains on our entire trip. When we started our ascent, it was still dark and the sky was so clear that you could see the stars. After thirty minutes walking the sun began to rise and the air above us was thick with clouds. Besides the occasional mountain top poking through the mist there would be no view from the top of Poon Hill for our group.

Once we realized this we all pretty much decided it was pointless to continue on to the top and headed back to down to Ghorepani to have breakfast together before our last day of hiking.

After we left the village behind us it was all downhill from there. Literally. Thousands upon thousands of steep narrow steps. I took my time, alternating which leg I was leading with and sidestepping down in the hopes of not straining my knee any further. Many folks do this trek in reverse up to Muktinath, and I do not envy them. The way we took down would be a horrible way to go up. Not to mention the fact that they miss the most beautiful parts of the trek which I believe were nearly all on the other side of the pass.

It was strange to ascend as we did, passing back into the same climate we'd left behind so long ago in the first days of our journey. Towards the end we saw the reappearance of the multitude of dragon flies that I remember so clearly from that first days walk.

We all became elated as we ticked off the final few milestones. One hour remaining. Thirty minutes. Twenty minutes. Ten. But it seemed that fate was stacked against our celebration as mere minutes from the end a thunderstorm erupted along with a heavy miserable rain. Then, at our appointed meeting place, where our van was to be waiting to take us to our final destination of Pokhara, one of us was missing.

Ori, one our Israeli friends had forged ahead of the pack and managed to make a wrong turn along the way. We waited a half hour for him in the hopes that he would wise up and turn around, or ask for directions. Then we raced around in our taxi to see if he had popped out somewhere further on up the road. Then, just as we were about to give up hope and leave him behind, he pulled up in front of us on the back of a policeman's motorcycle.

No one wanted to hear about his adventure that involved him going the wrong way, getting on a bus, and finally eliciting help from the police. We all just wanted clean clothes, hot showers, and soft beds. The hour and a half long ride back to Pokhara was unpleasantly grim. But by the time we all met up later on that night, Ori was forgiven and everyone was elated to be at last be finished.

We ate steaks and drank cold beers. Laughed about each others struggles along the way and patted ourselves on the back perhaps a little bit too hard. But what can I say, we were finished and it felt really, really good. If you'd asked me two years, or even two months ago if I would do a thing like this, I'd surely have told you “No.” But I did. And I'd do it again. Just don't expect me to be doing it again anytime soon.