The Circuit

Michael Bolton is the New Chuck Norris
Our adventure started in Kathmandu where we were held up for several days waiting to retrieve Steph's lost baggage. Because we arrived on a Friday, and Saturdays and Sundays are the respective Nepali and Indian holidays, it wasn't until Wednesday that we made our way by bus to the trail head at Besi Sahar. We opted to go local style, so for 300 R we wedged ourselves onto an over-stuffed micro bus ride for a seven hour haul. Once out of the sprawl of the city, the 1.5 lane road wound along the Marsyangdi river valley. I have to mention that navigating the roads as a passenger here is an amazing experience. I had to decide to resign myself to the very real possibility of head-on collision or a tumble town the sharp cliff. Most of the roads are blasted out of cliff side rock, so the lanes lack serious girth. As for rules of the road, there are few but the chaos is respectful. I put my faith in the "system," as Steph referred to it, and tried not to notice the several shattered trucks dangling off the road. The bus ride also provided my first squat toilet opportunity and was lucky enough to occur at our one and only bus stop meal break along the way. BYO TP- n'uff said. We passed the time by coming up with brilliant distractions...err discoveries. Michael Bolton IS the new Chuck Norris. Pass it on. We've even started to market MB products like the Michael Bolton fold over sock (they too are on the way back to fashion re-discovery) complete with fringe made of from 100% "genuine" locks of MB's curly fro. SWOON. We also toyed with the idea of days of the week underwear (MB Monday..., etc) and kitchen utensils to complete the collection. After much laughter and distraction, we made it to our destination by dark and had our first traditional meal of dal bhat- a mountain of plain rice with sides of lentil soup, pickle, and vegetable curry.

FIRST DAYS
We set off walking the next morning to the first ACAP checkpoint where trekkers have to register their permits and TIMS cards to enter the Annapurna region/ national park areas. We waded through throngs of Maoist parading in the streets on our first day in KTM to procure the needed documents. The main streets around the city were clotted with protesters, but in most instances the red-clad seas of people parted to let us pass to the respective office or ATM we were trying to access. Once through the checkpoint, we were free to pace ourselves as we wished and pushed on for several hours to Bahundanda. The narrow dirt path to the hilltop town undulated up and down along newly harvested rice patty terraces. There is very little flat ground in this dramatically sharp valley and the trail is vehicle-free, so rice and all other supplies are carried in and out by basket (strapped to the forehead...amazing!), or by mule. Our first several days on the trail followed this narrow trail dotted with steep stone staircases and suspension bridges that zigzagged upriver. Our visit to Bahundanda was made particularly memorable by our early morning side trip to a local hot spring. The tea house owner sent his pint-sized nephew to show us the way. He sang and smiled and taught us the names of the trees and the bitter sweet fruit he picked for us to try. We tried to reciprocate with our own brand of song and dance and discovered "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" is a more universally recognized tune than previously realized. The hot spring itself was a sulfurous orange pool above the frosty waters of the Marsyangdi that boiled around house-sized boulders 100 meters below. It's clear from the impossibly steep angle of the valley walls and the size of the gigantic polished rocks in the river below, that the monsoon season blasts through this area with amazing force.