Tenacious - D and Jazz Hands for the Children

The kids along the trail are very accustomed to seeing foreigners pass through their villages. Gaggles of them will scamper over and followed us entourage- style through town asking for the school pens, bubble gum, biscuits, etc. they've become accustomed to getting from passers by. Since we generally walked from place to place sans biscuits and balloons, we resorted to song and dance to assuage their pleas. For us, this took the form of jazzy hand gesturing, a few bars from Jack Black's finest tunes, and dance moves that very very very vaguely resemble those from Beyonce's recent smash hit video "Put on Ring on it." The trail from Bahundanda took a turn near the current efforts to blast new road into the Annapurna region. We're told that the government, in an effort to develop the country, has plans to connect each of the 75 districts of Nepal by road. The trail had been re-routed to avoid the blasting, which involved a river crossing over a newly constructed and very rickety bamboo bridge lashed together with wire the width of chain-link. We managed to dodge the falling rock and scramble up to safety. Watching porters do this with 100lb loads on their heads was all sorts of incredible.

We made our way through the village Tal, stopping for the pumpkin curry the they're known for and water refills. Thanks to efforts from the NZ government, there are drinking water purification stops available along the trail. For 35 rupees and a signature, the locals provide water and the needed proof to the government who continue to subsidize the effort. I brought a purification system, but I still supported the effort to mitigate the use of plastic bottles wherever I could.

After weaving through the valley with amazing views of cascading waterfalls, and winding our way up and down endless flights of steep stone staircases, we ended our day in Bagarchap at 6,000 ft. At this point we started to meet lots of other trekkers and to leap frog with a few familiar guided groups. Our German friend Phil indulged us in conversation about culture and politics in our respective countries, as well as a rousing game of gin rummy. It's amazing the barriers a deck of cards can break down. We spent a cold night around a heated round table discovering that, between the eight people and six nationalities, Presidents and As*holes was by far the most widely recognized game. Our favorite people along the way belonged to an Intrepid group made up of a fantastic array of characters from NZ, the UK, Germany, and Tazmania- all on various adventures or self-proclaimed "mid life crisis tours." Their brand of humor seemed to match ours (though I'm pretty sure we scared them to death with our pace of conversation, twisted colloquialisms, and constant laughter) and we seemed to run into them in all of the least likely places. Fated to be friends I guess. Despite several awkward goodbyes in the end, it was sad to see them go.

From our first could night in Barachap, continued on through Koto and up to Chame. I danced with danger and tried some of the buckwheat bread the area is known for. The cafe we stopped at pointed toward amazing views of Manaslu, Annapurna II and IV...and socks drying on the fence posts. Steph and I became pretty addicted to the masala tea at this point, meaning we drank as much as we could afford- morning and noon. It's an amazing blend of spices (the ten typical to chai) but still manages to taste differently everywhere we stop. Chame was a bigger town and the tea house we stayed at offered private cabins and extra blankets for warmth. Our attempt to bath in the hot springs was thwarted by over occupation, but I did manage a quick game of hand hackey sack with a family of seriously excitable children (even the baby played). By dark all of the guests crowded into the guest house dining area to gorge on dal baht and keep warm next to the under-table heater. Our night in Chame was entertained by a couple of Swiss chain smokers, a philandering retired Brit, our new Swiss friend Jonas, and some quieter compatriots- all of whom joined in a game of cards.

The roaring Marsyangdi became a trickle on our walk from Chame to Upper Pisang. We opted for the longer high route (adding three breathtaking hours) on the eastern slope of the valley overlooking the braided, and now nearly bare, stream bed. Our guest house was situated on the upper slope of town with a rickety balcony with views of the towering mass of Annapurna II across the valley. We showed up just in time to see a mass of powder suspended from avalanching on the eastern face. The accommodations vary drastically from town to town, though they amazing in their own right regardless. One night the mattresses are thick and solar showers might promise a luke warm wash, the next the pillows are stuffed with straw and the pipes are frozen over. On this evening our room had gaps in the wood planked wall so wide we could wave to people in the next room, but the views and good company more than made up for the lack of privacy. At this point in the trip Steph's left shoe had killed her big toe dead and shredded her heel to a nearly skinless mass, so she was hiking (30+ lb backpack and all) in her thongs AKA "jandals." Our friends from Down Under reminded us that the term "thong" for them conjures images of butt floss beach wear. Steph's practice of wedging her socked feet between the sandal straps ultimately inspired the new and improved term "jandal" - a throw back to the Japanese samurai. Anyway, she's a badass and has become an inspiration for both vocab and perseverance.