Fly Explores: Day 4: Dharapani

Woke up in the cold at 6:30am and got dressed and packed as quickly as possible, while saying “brrr, brrr, brrr” the entire time. I’ve taken to packing up all my gear right away, instead of after breakfast, since we are usually wanting to hit the trail immediately after eating. Sam somehow magically manages to get dressed and packed while I’m visiting the toilet and then he leaves to put in an appearance in the dining room while I change into my hiking clothes and pack. We have realized that although every evening we tell the teahouse owner/cook what we want to eat for breakfast and what time we want it, they never actually start cooking it until we are present in the dining room. Oh well. Sam’s presence got them cooking, I arrived at the designated time, and we waited even longer before our Set breakfasts arrived. I had tea with mine. The tea came with a blob of yak butter at the bottom of the mug, which I stirred into the hot tea as the butter melted. It’s an acquired taste; I’m not quite there yet. We said ‘Hi’ and ‘Bye’ to some of our acquaintances as we finished our breakfast and they waited for theirs and then we set out through the village at the very late hour of 8:00am.

Day 4

SPOT data received at home.

We didn’t go very far when we came across our trail buddy getting his trekking documents stamped at the ACAP/TIMS checkpoint, so we waited for him and I watched trekkers heading off on the Mustang route far across the valley. I’d love to return one day and trek that route as well. It is expensive, but probably worth every rupee. Then we set out together and headed out of the blue paint and gray stone town. The sky was crystal clear, with not a single hint of a cloud. It was going to be a lovely day. We came to a blue paint marker on a rock signifying the direction of an alternate route, which according to our guidebook, meant that we’d somehow missed our usual red and white paint marked trail. After a brief discussion of our options and being unwilling to backtrack or walk on the road, we threw caution to the wind and decided we’d add even more adventure to our experience and take the alternate route.

Naturally, the trail was up, up, up, and mostly all hand laid stone steps. Other trekkers were walking along the road toward us with their guide and a couple of porters, but they didn’t turn onto the trail with us. We were elated to have the trail to ourselves and that helped me appreciate the hundreds of steps just a little bit. These flights of stone staircases zigzagged their way up through a pine forest, which smelled glorious.

After about 30 minutes of climbing, and with the village still visible below us, we came upon a most pastoral scene. Fields of what I think was wheat were standing crisply in their terraced beds that laced most of the side of the mountain. By looking very closely, we could see far away men and women and buffalo already busy with their day’s work.

The trail curiously passed directly through someone’s house; we didn’t think it was the right path and were standing there in befuddlement when two locals appeared and motioned to us in indication that it was indeed the correct way we needed to go. One of the men chuckled when we looked doubtful and I pointed to another path: he grinned as he shook his head and said, “No go: nothing.” We all laughed in understanding and waved goodbye to him as we parted ways. I’d have to say, trekking through the middle of someone’s house is a bit strange. On the other side of the house was a narrow alley and we filed into it and tried to make room for ourselves and some straggler children who appeared to be making their way to school. We also had to stand against the stone wall so a farmer could pass us with a hand carved wooden plow on his shoulder. A buffalo was drinking out of a wooden water trough and a man stopped on the other side of the trough and dipped out a drink for himself as well. Talk about a community water system.

Not this way, there's nothing there for a trekker.

This way: through a house.

Eventually the trail curved and headed back down toward the road. On the way down, I stopped to take a few photos and was left behind my group. It was so idyllic up in this hill village that I relished the opportunity to be hiking solo. A man was working a team of buffalo to plow a dirt field and a woman was walking behind him planting some sort of seed. They stopped and smiled at me as I stood watching them and we waved a greeting at each other from across the field. It was a brief, beautiful, shared experience that I will remember always as a magical moment in time. Then, I hurried to catch up with my companions, breaking the spell of that detour village with its golden light of the rising sun, chirping birds in the scented pine forest, and the mingling of a light breeze with the fragrance of a nearby blooming fruit tree and freshly plowed earth with its kind farmers.

The others were waiting for me at the bottom of the trail and we found ourselves back on the road for a short time. We attempted another alternate route that our guidebooks listed, but couldn’t find it - or rather it had been taken over with shrubs and other plants, because we had to bushwhack our way through the trail and clambered back up onto the dusty road. Not long after this, the trail diverged from the road and we made our way up toward Temang.

Children arriving at their school

We had to cross a sketchy wooden bridge that looked worse the closer we got to it. Once we were close, I was forced to stare at it, my nerves increasing, as we had to stand aside and let a man and his donkeys loaded with supplies cross from the other side before we could attempt a passage. It held the donkeys, so I figured it would hold me, but I didn't waste any time on there for a photo op.

See the bridge down there? Also, hello giant boulder!

Not my favorite bridge.

I don't envy the people who had to carve out this section of the trail.

See the Temang marker and the red and white paint on the rock? We're on the right path!

Not thrilled with this rocky trail.

Flowers keep me distracted.

The forest was filled with large flowering trees and I surprised the guys by informing them that the trees were rhododendrons. These, as well as a few other flowering plants, kept my mind off the fact that this section of the trail is grueling, rock and boulder filled, and not at all easy. It was also exceedingly hot and the trees prevented any sort of wind from reaching us. The steepness meant I was slow, but eventually did stagger to the top of the trail and the edge of a village presumed to be Temang. Mercifully, it was Temang and we found a teahouse that had a high rooftop dining area where we could catch a breeze and view the 360* scenery.

We didn’t have to share the rooftop with any other trekkers, so we made ourselves at home by taking off our shoes and pulling out the insoles to dry in the sunshine and lounging scattered about the rooftop. I ordered macaroni and cheese, but was extremely disappointed when my dish came: it was spiral pasta with parmesan cheese sprinkled on top and practically inedible. The others eyed my plate, expressed their sympathy for my misfortune, and greedily ate their assorted dishes. It would have taken too long to have something else cooked for me, so I choked down what I could and supplemented with a strip of dehydrated rhubarb from my backpack.

Our first large views of the mountains.

As we ate lunch, these ladies spun wool in the courtyard below us. The man just sat and talked.

The sun was intense and my insoles were dry by the time we were ready to hit the trail. Our two companions had gone on ahead of us, so Sam and I were on our own again and hiked down the dirt road for a short time before the trail diverged and led us up through another pine forest and more farms. The pine scent was idyllic. We came to a farm where a woman was draping rugs and cloths and blankets over a split-rail fence, it must have been laundry day, and I asked to use her outhouse by pointing to it. She frowned, but nodded her head. We met up with one of our companions and traveled with her for a bit.

The trail we just descended.

Land slide - yikes!

Exposed ground - look at those layers.

That's a lot of pine needles!

Agriculture in action.

A cool rock and waterfall combination Sam couldn't resist dropping his pack and climbing.

Eventually, the trail crossed a suspension bridge and immediately climbed straight up a hill made of fine dust to rejoin the road. The day had been quite windy after Temang, but once we were on the road, the wind kindly subsided. We wandered the road and only a few Mahindras, loaded with people and baggage, bumped and bounced past us. This view of the greenish blue river, far below on our right side, was pleasant and made me forget we were walking on the road. All day we had to navigate around aloof cows and sullen donkeys and other livestock and at one point it was said, “Stand next to the chicken” as if it was the most natural phrase to have spoken. We came to a TIMS police checkpoint just outside of Koto, a sad little place, and were forced to stop and dig out our paperwork. The French couple we had been leapfrogging all day were stopped there too and we all enjoyed a nice chat break after getting our paperwork stamped.

The TIMS checkpoint is the little shack with the large yellow sign on the hill.

Sam stealthily takes a photo while I wait for my TIMS stamp - the police do not like their photo taken.

Chame eventually came into view around 4:30pm and we found the Hotel Shangri-La teahouse where we had agreed to meet Johnathan. Our guidebook had mentioned this teahouse because it advertised 24 hours hot water (meaning it isn’t solar dependent and thus, limited) and an attached bathroom (not an outhouse). Sure enough, there was his neon green shirt hanging from the balcony to dry.

Chame! We are very happy to be here at last.

Make way for donkeys (our teahouse is the green one above me).

We were shown our room and then I decided to find out if there really was hot water for a shower. It was gloriously hot and plentiful and I was having a grand time in the cement room shower, complete with a narrow window, until I realized the water was slow draining, I was ankle deep in soapy water, and there were large, brown cockroaches merrily swimming over in one corner. I don’t think anyone heard me scream, because of the cement, but I’ve never made a speedier exit from a shower: clothed, but still dripping wet.

Doing laundry in our bathroom sink.

We ordered dinner, mushroom pizza for me, and then our group took a walk through the village. Generally all the villages have a single road through the middle of the village, so it is easy to see all the sights and not get lost. Chame is a larger village and had a few shops selling items of trekker interest, such as toilet paper, moleskin, guidebooks, and candy. I stood out on the stone street and enjoyed the evening air and views of the mountains while the others shopped. When we returned, our dinner was ready and my “pizza” was delicious. We had a nice evening and are in our beds by 7:45pm.