Annapurna Circuit Trek: Day 7

Day 7 was the first day of the trek that was so emotional that I needed to write out a full length diary entry that night (as opposed to just a few notes as a brief record and to use as a later reminder from blog writing). So, what you're going to read now is exactly as I saw it at the time:

Today is our acclimatization/rest day in and around Manang, which is at an elevation of 3540m. We were allowed to sleep in, so naturally I woke up at 5:30 and enjoyed dozing on and off for the next couple of hours. I splashed out on a 'light' breakfast, the 'light' option consisting of two eggs, potatoes, three pieces of toast and tea, which I enjoyed very much (makes a pleasant change from apple pancakes).

After the slow start, we set off around 9:15 for a day hike to the village of Khangsar. Such a walk is recommended for acclimatisation, which is something I feel I need all the help with that I can get. The trail wasn't too bad, though it did have some steep ascents and descents, the former of which I'm finding pretty slow going at high altitude. It didn't help that my blisters were agonising (they were hurting so much that I actually walked part of the day in flip-flops). But none of that mattered against the spectacular mountain backdrops. The path was carved into the slope on one side of the valley, with the river meandering through it. On the other side we could see the whole face of the mountain, from the pine forest lower down, though the bare rock up to the snow-capped peaks, an impressive sight.

Khangsar itself is another picturesque medieval village. We ate lunch on the roof of the restaurant, which provided superb views over the village and back down the valley. We watched as the locals farmed the seemingly impossible terrain, using yaks for the plowing.

Henry and Vivek had noticed a trail through the pine forest on the mountain on the other side of the valley and we opted to take that path back - it looked mostly flat (once we'd got across the valley) and it beat retracing our steps. At first it was absolutely lovely. The forest was dense (the densest we'd been though) and it smelt beautiful. The feeling of actually being on the mountain, the one we'd admired walking up, was wonderful. I was glad that I'd read Maurice Herzog's 'Annapurna' (the book which describes the conquering of the first 8000+ metre peak), which put it all in perspective and definitely gave me something to think about whilst looking at the summit. At one point, as the trees started to thin out and the mountain came back into view, Vivek started singing 'It's a wonderful world', then soon trailed off. I kept singing (though I couldn't remember all the lyrics) and the combination of the scenery and the song (which I appreciate has become almost a cliche in its sentimentality) brought a lump to my throat and a tear to my eye. It was a very powerful moment.

That feeling of immense joy didn't last for long. The forest disappeared and the path, at this point san and small loose stones, became precariously narrow as it clung to the edge of the mountain. Then it almost entirely disappeared down to a line about the width of one foot (not as in the unit of measurement, but actually the width of one of my feet) as it traversed a scree-covered landslide area. To the right was steep up, to the left steep down. The aforementioned sand/loose stone combination was incredibly slippery and any remaining sense of stability I may have had was blown away by the fierce wind which sent the stones and sand around us flying. This is a picture of the area I'm describing, taken the following day:

I'm not ashamed to admit that I was scared. Not that nagging sense of anxiety that I'm unfortunately so used to, but full-on scared as in well aware that one slip could be the end of me. Thank goodness for my walking sticks, and for Ram who held my hand through it. Every scrap of my attention and energy were focused on where I was going to next place my foot. It was nerve-wracking in the extreme.

As so often on this trip, a tough stretch gave way to something yet more spectacular. The path widened and reassuringly large expanses appeared on either side. The view of the valley and mountains, the clouds and the light was indescribably incredible. My heart swelled once again. But this was a day of extremes and soon the path became precariously narrow again requiring yet more hand-holding by Ram. It was worth it, though, because shortly after we were at Gangapurna Lake, which I'd been so keen to see (a lake in the mountains - what's not to like?) After the difficulties of the recently traversed path (or lack thereof), the lake was a much-needed haven of tranquility and, separating myself from the others to sit right by the shore, I managed to enjoy a moment of almost zen-like peace. I contemplated the calmness of the lake, set against the rugged magnificence of Gangapurna mountain and glacier towering above it, and the clouds above that. One grey cloud was hovering such that it looked like it was smoking. The sun had gone in and it ws chilly, but the absence of bright lightmade the scene wonderfully broody. Here's a photo of the peak and lake (taken the following morning):


It was only about 15 minutes uphill back to Manang but I was drained. I was physically tired (no surprise there) and moreover, for the first time this trek, I felt emotionally drained. Maria and I collapsed back at the lodge and congratulated ourselves whole-heartedly for having gotten through it. A warm shower helped (the first shower I'd had in seven days that was warm enough to stand under). Now tucked up in bed writing this and looking forward to the hot chocolate and pastry that Maria and I are about to head out for.
....

Hot chocolate and chocolate cake were both disappointing - they didn't taste nearly as good as they looked, but I had a lovely time with Maria. We are now getting on very well, united in part by our abandonment by Henry and Vivek (they walk faster than us then disappear when we get into the villages to drink and smoke, never inviting us granola girls along). We both bought scarves. Mine is red/pink/orange/purple/blue/grey stripey yak wool, for which I paid 150 rupees, which I think is a pretty good deal and I'll be glad to have it on the pass - it's definitely getting colder as we get higher.

Rested back at the lodge and, whilst flicking through the Lonely Planet, came across and read the section on AMS (altitude sickness). I was aware of the risks of it before but reading it now that we're here brought on a semi-serious bout of anxiety. Vivek did a reasonable job of talking me down, as good as he could whilst pretty drunk on chhang. (Writing now in retrospect, the anxiety about AMS didn't really go away until the first step off the pass). Dinner and cards rounded off the evening.

I mentioned earlier in my post my agonising blisters. Just so you don't think I'm being unnecessarily whiny, this is what I'm talking about (the other foot was similarily damaged):