Due to timing, we decided that our final ski trip would be up the Jagatsukh Valley. This conclusion involved carrying in 12 days of food allowing for many fun opportunities. So, with the backpacks full of food and some climbing gear, we weren't too ashamed to hire porters for the first day.

Rob and I went in a day ahead of Jeff and Dusty (our new great friends from Canada) as they wanted another day to get over some stomach illnesses we all endured. The trip started with good karma as we were able to drive up 600m and 10 km farther than expected. There is a huge hydro project going in (combining water from both the Jagatsukh and Hampta Valleys) and the worker's road enabled us access. While this project is great for access, the net result appears negative as man is tainting a most spectacular piece of nature.

After leaving the village of Khanol, we walked up the south side of the valley hearing consistent dynamite explosions from the north side, watching massive boulders being pushed down the cliff through dust storms, and trying to gauge the battle this development team was fighting. In addition to the steep eroded hillside the first 10 km of roadway switchbacks through, this blasting section was taking place on a few hundred foot cliff. Crazy.

Not soon enough, we were past the noise and into the Himalayan wilderness. This was apparent as we spotted many Himalayan griffons gliding around. To no surprise, we had to push our porters to get them up near snowline. Even though they only walked for four hours, it saved our bodies from hitting energy depletion on day 1. The next day Rob & I enjoyed a nice ski into a large basin before the afternoon thunderstorms began. This weather pattern was fairly consistent throughout our trip....decent mornings followed by afternoon showers accompanied with entertaining lightning and thunder.

Jeff and Dusty arrived that afternoon and we were all stoked to move camp up to the end of the valley into some primo ski terrain. Well, the weather pattern fluctuated that next day as we woke up to a little shower and after making a dash for it, had to set camp short of our final destination due to rain and hail. But finally, on day 4, we beat the weather to our destination and set up camp at the base of the Goru Valley.

From this camp, we optimized the weather windows and scored continuously great skiing. On the second full day there, Jeff, Robo, and I summited Pachim Pahar at about 5040m, enjoying some fast turns off the summit on a couple inches of new snow and then a great gully ski to the valley floor 1100m later.

On our third day we ventured farther up the Goru, each few minutes gaining additional looks at tasty terrain. There was one ridgeline providing a couple steep chutes that awakened all of our taste buds and we knew we had to sample its spice before this trip of gluttony was over. The next day we climbed up around these lines and soon found ourselves on top of the desired goodies. Peering over the edge onto our options, we began getting nervous stomach flutters, wondering if we were eligible for such fine dining. With stable conditions, we could not leave such culinary treats to spoil with the springtime heat.

Robo, our professional paparazzi for the trip, dropped into the central chute first to get some photos. Dusty followed linking consistently great turns down a wonderful fall line. Jeff decided to ski a sportier line skier's left, forcing him to make a couple turns above a rock band and through some rocks to enter the chute proper. He made it happen and put a new hunger in my belly. Seeing there were many delicacies left in that line, I also went left.

We were all breathing heavily half way down our chutes requiring a quick rest before finishing. At the bottom we shared hoots and hollers as the endorphins raged through our bodies.

The next day was our last day of skiing as we needed to move camp down the valley before the long march back to civilization. All still buzzing from the previous outing, we were content to just get some turns in for the last time of the season. We ascended a high point at the end of the Goru Valley rewarding us with views into the Malana Valley and further east amongst the peaks of Spitti. We skied steep chutes back into the basin and then, sure enough, decided to muster the energy to boot back up for one last feast off our favorite ridgeline.

This time Robo and I skied a line skier's right adjacent to a hanging glacier. Robo went first, not scared to let his sticks bomb over hard pack steepness. Quite impressive. I felt things out; more hesitant to make a mess but still excited to explore a new treat. Dusty put together another smooth descent down the central chute and Jeff finished with a fantastic line coming directly into the central chute through some rocks.

Wow, what a trip of skiing. We were all happy to have skied some steep lines safely amongst big mountains and impressed to continue to enjoy each other's company. "Pick 'em up" and "5-3-5-2" were often hollered from one tent to the next to put a smile on our faces.

After this trip, Robo and I maximized on our one full day in Manali with some shopping and final chais or mango shakes with friends. Then it was an overnight bus to Delhi, some A/C movie time with the bro before departing ways, then an overnight flight to Bangkok followed by an an overnight train to our apartment here in Hat Yai. I enjoyed that first night of good sleep before waking early and heading to school to teach English to Thai elementary students.

Yes, that's right, I have decided to teach and am stoked for the challenges! Due to Em's respectable performance, her program (Smart English) has hired me for a part-time position this term. When meeting with the boss, she (and all the Smart English team) reassured me that I would do well since I have Em for help..."she is the best."

After the first two days, I am optimistic about the situation. I have fourteen hours of class time and so far the class size has not exceeded 30 students. I have a Thai teaching assistant, Jeen, and there is another Smart English instructor (with Thai assistant) at the school, which makes for good lesson sharing in addition to the respectable library Em has created. It is apparent that one could choose to just get by and lean on the given materials or create some fun lesson plans (with contingencies of course) and be that much more competent. So, I have lots of work to get caught up and then comfortably ahead.

In addition, both Em and I are also teaching some private classes two afternoons a week through a program Em's friends just began. We had our first session yesterday and it was nice to be in a classroom with only eight students and also a Thai teaching assistant. The not-so-nice surprise was the four parents who also attended the hour and a half class. Turns out it was all good and they were supportive of what I did.

So, from the Indian Himalayan peaks straight to the Thai urban classroom. Pretty cool.

Em is great and it is wonderful to learn some of the strengths she gained during her meditation retreat, which she plans to write something about later.

And finally, we are both very excited to be on similar schedules these next few months!

Labels: India, Kullu Valley, ski touring

Just returned from our first trip back in the hills of northern India and wow is it great to be back in snow country! I think Dusty summed it up great when she justified my sustained energy to climb as "eleven months away from mountains." It has been quite rejunivating to be back!

In addition to the large masses of snowy earth that calls my soul, my return trip to the Kullu Valley has yielded warm welcomes from the friendly communities of friends we made here last year. After the 16+ hour bus ride from Delhi, we arrived in Manali to the warm hospitality of Peter's family: hot chai, showers, and peaceful views up the valley from their balcony.

On our first full day in the valley, Rob and I hiked up to Solang where Em and I lived for most of our season. Just before Solang, we were stopped at a river where villagers from Burruwa and Solang were building a bridge to connect the two communities. We helped throw some stones into the approach and appreciated being allowed to share in the communal chore.

The next day we got on our skis for a day trip up into the Gulaba region. We both felt the altitude but still enjoyed almost 4000' of spring turns as Robo caught his first glimpses of this vast high country. We descended to the bottom where the Himalayan Ski Village was sponsoring a ski contest. I ran into a bunch of local mountain acquaintances there and soon enough we were strongly urged to attend the awards ceremony and eat lunch. This was Robo's first no silverware eating experience and being the rough-Alaskan-working-next-to-the-wild-things-guide he is, he was quite the natural with his bare hands.

The day was great as I recognized most of the attendees and immediately felt like I was back amongst a community of friends. I think the fact I returned has given me a certain level of respect from locals while simultaneously boosting their pride in their backyard. Lots of people continue to ask how Em is doing and sending love her way. She is missed by many.

Building to the community of great people we have met here in the Kullu Valley is the Canadian duo of Jeff and Dusty. Fabulous folks and instantly we hit it off. They are kind of the Trev & Em of this season as they have been living at The Iceland Hotel in Solang since February.

They invited us on their "final trip" to Rohtang Pass and due to the obvious synergy, it was a no-brainer to accept. We were delayed a few days on our departure as the Army was not allowing us to our desired road drop-off point due to the fact that the "Chief Engineer" was in town. We tinkered with trying to get permission as it is just a liability issue that they wouldn't allow us to pass their road block. Sure enough, two days later we were allowed up as any sort of liability concerns seemed to have left town with the "Chief Engineer."

We spent seven days camped up on Rohtang Pass (~14,000') and enjoyed some very sport lines. It was a perfect first trip for Rob and I as we had one base camp allowing for day pack (lightweight) trips, were camped high for instant acclimitization and had quick access to many great routes that did not require early morning starts and huge vertical gains.

Conditions were fantastic with consistently sunny mornings and a stable spring snowpack. In addition to great skiing, we shared tons of laughs with Jeff and Dusty. They are both holds-no-bar sort of jokesters and it was great to throw jokes around so easily.

We had such a great time that they are going to join us on our next trip up the Jagatsukh Valley. We are hoping that this journey will be another false "final trip" for them!

Labels: Iceland Hotel, India, Kullu Valley, Manali, ski touring, Solang

NEW PHOTOS: Before I begin, please notice that we have finally added some photos to the "recent photo albums" in the left column.

It was fantastic to be back up north. ..not just basking in the mountain landscape (cooler temps, fresh air, oh and big peaks), but more importantly, to be back immersed in a community and realize we truly made some great relationships in the Kullu Valley. Travelling on the tourist track the last month or so, we were uplifted to come back to genuine friends. Their hospitality, and direct spoiling of Momma K, was quite rewarding to Em and I. The spoiling began in Delhi when Khem took us all out to a 5-star restaurant at the La Meridian hotel. Then upon arriving in Manali, we got the special treatment from Peter and his family in the Om Tara Guest House. In addition to good food and fresh mango shakes, their friendliness and pride in making us feel comfortable was greatly appreciated.

After our 4-day tour through Spitti Valley, we returned to our winter home, The Iceland Hotel, in Solang. It was great to see the crew and Ludar welcomed us demanding that my mother stay in the suite (upon Khem's orders). Unfortunately, Khem was out leading a trekking group so we missed seeing him. The suite was quite different from the sleeping situations my mom had adapted to the last couple weeks. The three of us were normally sharing one room which usually consisted of a couple twin beds pushed together. So, it was either the three of us on one double bed or (if the room had enough floor space) we requested another twin mattress. The suite at The Iceland Hotel consists of two rooms each wtih a double bed. In addition to this comfort, the suite boasts glass windows featuring a 270 degree view of mountain beauty. Unfortunately, my mom was only able to catch a couple quick glimpses of the nearby peaks as the weather was gray and damp for most of our two days in Solang. Upon checking out, Ludar informed us that our visit (rooms plus food and many teas) was complimentary. Then while waiting for our bus from Manali, Anand delivers a gift wrapped Kullu shawl to my mom. Em and I kind of stood there in disbelief (or jealousy) as my mom just met Anand earlier that day and only for a few minutes. It goes to show how valued one's mother is in India. Just before boarding the bus, Peter and his daughter Neha, blessed us with prayer scarves for our journey. Knowing I could get emotional, I rather focussed on the future knowing that we will see these wonderful people again.

Thanks to all our friends who contributed to the spoiling and making us feel so appreciated.

O.K., I guess we also experienced some amazing things last week.

Manali:
We did an "acclimitization" hike up Lambaduk with Peter. When it began to rain, we decided it was a good time to sit underneath a tree where Peter boiled noodles over an open fire for our lunch. Later that evening we rooted Peter on during a local carrom tournament. Carrom is an old board game where you try to sink your pieces into pockets by flicking a striker piece. It is kind of a combination of pool and marbles played on a square table and quite popular throughout India. Like most competetive games, it attracts a lot of crap talking and we were quite entertained watching the local Tibetans ridicule each other and then immediately miss an easy shot due to the tournament pressure. Skoog, Kophs, and Dylan, we may be making a board for the next Safari.

Spitti Valley:
WOW. I have been on some beautiful mountain landscape roadways before, but this one truly takes the cake. We left the Kullu Valley on a beautiful blue-skied morning and were able to boast some local ridgelines and peaks we had skied to my mother. I was aglow just to be back in the high country and the mountains seemed more impressive than both Em and I remembered. I joked with Peter that "it was so great to be back in the mountains as I think I experienced 'low elevation sickness' the last couple months." Peter has a great story about when he visited the coast and swears he had "low elevation sickness."

Driving over Rohtang Pass into Lahaul, we were officially leaving the "habitable world" of lush vegetation and entering the land of alpine. The landscape was full of waterfalls cascading down thousdands of feet of steep hillside, granite ridgelines, and huge glaciated mountain tops. We stopped for tea in Chhatru and then lunch in Batal. Each little dhaba (cafe) consisted of stone walls with indoor seating on stone benches and tables made of guess what, ya, stones. Quite a rocky place. Sure enough, Peter knew the owners of both as they spend their winters in Manali.

We then continued on the windy gravel road and ascended to Kunzum La, the pass that seperates the Lahaul and Spitti Valleys. Feeling a little spacey just sitting in the jeep as we ascended, I was eyeing my altimeter as we were approaching the highest elevation in the continental US. We reached Kunzum La at just under 15,000 feet and I informed my mom we were standing higher than the summit of Mt. Rainier or any point in the lower 48 (and we drove to it)! Kunzum La is blessed with a fantastic stupa (Buddhist monument) and many rows of prayer flags.

From this high pass, we descended into Spitti Valley where the landscape changed to huge valleys predominantly made up of glacial till. It was a crazy contrast to see glaciated granite peaks just behind wind eroded ridgelines of glacial till. It was as though we were driving in southwest Utah with Switzerland just beyond the front range.

The next few days included old, high monastery after old, high monastery, walks to high alpine lakes, and visiting Peter's friends for tea. The Spitti Valley was once part of Tibet and the language and culture are very similar. The region was along the old silk route that travelled from the Mid-East into China and was habitable to only the nomadic type. Still isolated for about eight months a year due to snowed-in mountain passes, the people calling Spitti Valley home today are considered nomadic by contemporary standards.

On our drive back, we did a side trip to Chandra Tal, a beautiful lake at 13,500 feet in Lahaul. We drank tea from some shepards who take their flocks of sheep hundreds of kilometers to this area as the local grass seed is superior. On our way down from the lake, and in the middle of nowhere, we had a great surprise. Bouncing towards us on a motorbike with his sunglasses bouncing off his chin and his long wavy hair rigid from dust, came our friend Chala. Chala is the social badboy from the group of local snowboarders we hung out with last winter. Shortly after came Peter, another snowrider from Burruwa village. It was great to see them again and especially in such a remote location.

Solang:
After a heinous descent through thick fog, we were dropped off at the Iceland Hotel in Solang. Following some happy "Namastes" and "Op kaisse hais" to the Iceland crew, we resorted to our winter norm of warm showers and hot tea. Staying consistent with the winter luxuries of the Iceland, we played some Citizen Cope and Bob Marley (thanks Robo) on their stereo and logged online while we were the only ones in the dining/community room. Some cards and a movie (thanks HBO) followed. While the weather never got nice, it was dry enough for me to show my mom around. First we walked up to the ski hill where all the winter craziness happens (beginner rope tow, yaks, tubing runs, tea stalls, fur coated newlyweds in sleighs, first time skiers in the tuck position even though they are on the flats and not moving). Then we headed down a streamside trail towards the village of Burruwa. With the rain beginning, we headed back to the warm comforts of the Iceland.

We are now in Delhi, Momma K flew home last night after a most wonderful visit, and we are flying to Thailand tomorrow morning!

Dhanyavad India, & Namaste.

Labels: India

It's not really that we're overdue for a post, more that we've done so much this week that we feel behind. And more pictures are coming, we promise!

Em & Pat's Embassy Adventure

To back up a little from Trev's last post, Pat and I had had officially my busiest (and most productive) day in Delhi so far. Trevor wasn't feeling so good, and with temps hovering around 100, with 80% + humidity, we left him home in the AC. The original visa-fixing plan was to head for Amritsar, home of the Golden Temple (the Sikh faith's Holy of Holies), then hop over the Pakistan border to Lahore, Delhi's sister city during the Mughal empire and home to more fantastic monuments. This would require a visa. We hopped an auto-rickshaw to the Pakistani Embassy bright and early (and already sticky), to find that they don't even let you inside the compound to apply. They have windows opening out onto the sidewalk, and we felt like cattle as we got into the appropriate line, narrowly confined by metal railing on either side. When it was our turn, he handed our applications right back, saying we needed a "letter of introduction" from our embassy. O.K.

Another short rickshaw ride away, and we were in the fast-lane at the US Embassy. The "Citizen Services" lane made us feel like VIPs zipping past all of the US visa seekers, and provided a bit of vindication after our long waits of the day before. It was still the 4th of July on American soil, and Ray Charles was singing America the Beautiful over the outdoor speakers, leaving me with a little bit of a lump in my throat. The helpful man at the counter gave us our letters right away, then asked us in his best David Spade voice, "Can I ask why you folks want to go to Pakistan?" before hitting us with the US State Department's info sheet advising against all travel there. O.K.... we just want to go to Lahore. Nobody's causing any trouble there. As I was calling Trevor on the courtesy phone, Pat read the sheet and decided to take Uncle Sam's warning to heart. Fair enough. There was also courtesy internet (God bless the US of A!) and we did some quick searching on Kathmandu tickets. We couldn't buy the cheap ones online, so off to the Royal Nepal Airways office. After paying another auto driver, and taking a minor detour through Janpath Market, where we bought Pat a very cute skirt, we arrive at the "Nepal Airlines" office, with the Royal adamantly covered up and crossed out (they recently stripped their corrupt king of his powers, and take the removal of "royal" from everything very seriously). Tickets in hand, we hopped another auto to the train station and bought tickets to Agra for the next day, as well as to Haridwar (post-Nepal). Then we went to Pahar Ganj and made some hotel reservations, before finally zipping home in yet another auto-rickshaw, triumphant but on the verge of heat-stroke. Pat, not surprisingly, took all of this in stride, and dealt with the heat much better than I.

Agra: India's Worst City With the World's Most Beautiful Building

After departing an hour late, our early morning express train to Agra was a treat. Bottled water, morning paper, full tea service, and breakfast all came in rapid succession. Our arrival in the city was less auspicious. Leaving the station we were mobbed by touts and rickshaw drivers, and actually penned in by a few of them. Trying to get away, my skirt caught on one of the autos and was totally ruined by oil. Not a great start.

Trying to get into Agra Fort was almost as much of a trial, with swarms of vendors shoving postcards, marble boxes, wooden elephants, and assorted necklaces and bracelets under our noses, completely undeterred by our more-than-slightly hostile responses. Inside we were hit with a fairly large entrance fee, and were still suspicious and rattled when the first of the government-approved guides offered his services. After some quick discussion, we decided we did want one, and finding Singh marked a definite improvement in our day. Eighty years old, with very few teeth, Singh assured us he'd been giving tours of the fort for 55 years, and sported a vest with "Save Heritage" embroidered in slightly crooked letters on the back. He showed us all kinds of nifty things, like the floor in part of the palace where the king and queen played Indian chess with female servants. Pat and I were really impressed with the way he painted a picture of what it would have looked like while occupied, describing the lavish furnishings and what the goings-on would have been in different areas. He also threw in enough structural trivia (cooling systems built into the wall, and ingenious water systems) to make engineer-Trevor happy.

The Taj Mahal... words don't really cover it. We got incredibly lucky with the weather, as it cleared up late enough so we stayed fairly cool, but had incredible light for our 4 o'clock arrival. The changing light on the white marble is every bit as fantastic as reputed, and we stayed until almost 7:30, after a spectacular sunset, completely happy to watch the light change on all of its
magnificent faces.

Kathmandu: One Valley, 7 UNESCO World Heritage Sites

At the airport, Trevor and I were more than a little relieved to get that exit stamp next to our Indian visas. (Formerly Royal) Nepal Airways served up a yummy rice and dal meal, which was a happy surprise on a flight that wasn't even two hours, even with the 15 minutes we lost switching to Nepalese time. We made it to our hotel without much incident in a dilapidated orange muscle car the pre-paid taxi booth arranged for us.

After breakfast at the Himalatte Cafe (they lived up to their name - great coffee!) we headed for Swayambhunath (aka the "Monkey Temple", due to an amazing number of monkeys, many of the younger ones having a blast swinging from the prayer flags). After climbing the 365 steps, we were a bit in awe of our 2nd UNESCO World Heritage Site in 2 days (the Taj, of course, makes the list). A large central stupa, topped with a golden spire and striking eyes painted on each side, was surrounded by an assortment of Buddhist and Hindu shrines, and liberally strewn with prayer flags. The site figures prominently in the mythology and history of the valley, and was an important Buddhist pilgrimage site from at least the 5th century AD, with animist roots probably stretching much further back. We caught a bit of the monks' afternoon chanting, before descending back down the stairs. Wandering back into the heart of old Kathmandu, we arrived in Durbar ("palace") Square as sunset was approaching. We spotted a rooftop restaurant, and had some yummy snacks (I tried some wild boar - would have been good thin-sliced bacon, but a little chewy) and local "Gorka" beer while gazing at the many rooftops of ancient pogoda-style temples. The pagoda (according to our guidebook) was actually developed and perfected in Nepal before being brought to China, and the intricately carved examples in Kathmandu's Durbar Square are impressive enough to qualify them as another UNESCO site.

The next day we took a bus to Baktapur, a beautiful town that's done a great job of preserving its traditional architecture and monuments. We were treated to more gorgeous pagoda temples, another well-located rooftop restaurant, and an interesting walk through Potter's Square. The potters in Baktapur still use traditional hand wheels, and dry their creations in the middle of the square, and the older gentleman in charge of feeding the massive burning mounds of straw to fire the pots was happy to show us how it was done. I even snuck in a tour of a thangka (Buddhist devotional painting) workshop/school, where a number of my questions about the intricate paintings were cleared up. Although we were slightly disappointed by the shrine to the "Great God of the Resplendent Phallus", everything else in Baktapur was very impressive. We went home happy but tired after hitting 4 World Heritage Sites in 3 days. Trevor and Pat later rallied to watch the nail-biter of a World Cup final in an Irish pub while I went down for the count, probably with the same bug Trevor had in Delhi.

Haridwar & Our Brush With Celebrity (Our Own)

We were a bit nervous arriving in Haridwar, after being warned of aggressive touts, but after Agra it was a friendly cakewalk. We made the enlightened decision to spend an extra couple hundred rupees for a place that boasted traditional hut-style accommodations (actually really comfy) around an immaculately kept garden, and its own private ghat on the Ganges. That's right, our own quiet, peaceful chunk of the holy river. We went down to action-central - Hari-ki-Pairi - the main bathing ghat, which boasts a stone with the footprint of Vishnu. This was supposed to be the most impressive spot to watch the Ganga Aarti ceremony, where every night at 7, devotees release floating lamps into the river. It turns out we had arrived at the kickoff of a 10-day festival, and the city and ghats were crawling with pilgrims, many carrying elaborately decorated frames over their shoulders, a container of Ganga water on each side balancing it out, that they would be carrying all the way home to their temples. Bright orange t-shirts (the holy color of Hinduism) emblazoned with images of Shiva and Vishnu were everywhere. Groups of young men in matching t-shirts, shorts, and orange sailor caps gave me bizarre flashbacks to my highschool trip to Atlanta for the Lutheran Youth Organization rally. Is there such thing as the HYO? Men and boys were jumping off bridges and stairs into the fast-flowing river, getting a pretty wild ride before swimming madly for the edges of the ghats, where chains extended out from the stairs. Any worries we had about how our presence there would be received were fairly quickly put to rest, as it soon became apparent we were just part of the attraction. We're guessing a lot of these pilgrims might never have seen a foreigner before, and there were surprisingly few of us floating around. Again and again (and again...) we were asked for "just one picture" which then turned into a waiting line as orange-clad pilgrim after pilgrim put an arm around one or all three of us while his friend snapped a photo. Babies were shoved into our arms, and everyone wanted to shake our hands. We decided it was a small taste of what celebrity life must be like, and we definitely got more than a little tired of our devotional paparazzi. By the time the ceremony started, my face hurt from smiling. The Ganga Aarti itself was beautiful. The lights reflecting on the river, and the obvious emotion of the devotees, some of whom were making the trip of a lifetime to come to the holy river, combined for a moving experience. Afterward, we hightailed it back to the hotel to avoid our adoring public. Trevor took Ashok, the in-house ayurvedic masseuse, up on his offer. Pat and I were kicked out of the room, after a short introductory lecture where he explained which exercises we should all be doing every morning to keep our veins "bubbling". Interesting.

Next morning, we had scheduled an early morning puja (prayer) on the river. The hotel brought us a panda (priest) who conducted a truly beautiful ceremony, where we offered food and flowers to the river, prayed for removal of obstacles and fruitful efforts (technically to Ganesha and Lakshmi, but those are their specialties), had lucky string tied around our wriests, and were liberally sprinkled with holy Ganga water (which is actually not so bad at Haridwar - it's milky gray looking, exactly as a glacial river should be). Afterward, Pat scored her own massage (though through the clothes, and with us in the room, as per Ashok's request). We wandered through the bazarre, and took the tram up to the hill-top temple for a lovely panorama view of the valley and the meandering Ganges. Then we had to scoot for our 7pm bus... which turned out to be a local bus. Read: non-reclining seats, five people (3X2) per row on bench seats and extreme overnight discomfort. 17 hours later, we were finally deposited in Manali. Truly heinous bus experience.

Back in Manali!

At the moment we're sooooo happy to be back at Peter's place. The guestroom is cozy, the food wonderful, and a more welcoming bunch than the Dorjees would be hard to find. Hooray to be back in Manali!

Labels: Delhi, India

Part of adventure travel is dealing with the unexpected and most travelers enjoy the successes of handling such impedances. Not when the impedances affect one’s mother. Fortunately, my mother is more of a rock star traveler than I could have hoped for.

It starts with a miscommunication of what day she arrives. The miscommunication part is a long story not worth all the ink, but the realization is quite worthwhile. I had called her just before our train left the Bangalore station and with a horrible phone connection, did catch that she was leaving at 11:36. I had always thought she was leaving Saturday night and the only part of her itinerary I really looked at was her arrival which stated, “Monday, July 2nd @8:30 p.m.” This was part of the “miscommunication” as Monday is July 3rd. I am on the train to Delhi and start doing some math in my head as to her flight path. Hmm…seems like an awful long layover in Chicago? I sleep on it and awake the next day pretty confident she is arriving before we had planned. From my numbers, if she left Seattle at 11:36 p.m., she arrives at 8:30 a.m. July 3rd. If she left Seattle at 11:36 a.m., she arrives at 8:30 p.m. July 2nd. Either times are before our train gets to Delhi. Not good. Because she is expecting us to be at the airport, we did not go through any of the required warnings a foreigner needs before meeting Delhi head on. Not good. Well, I needed to make some phone calls. This is not easy as our train seldom stopped and efficiently wouldn’t stop for long (usually 2-3 minutes).

Em and I came up with our game plan…which included the contingency of me missing the train and seeing them in Delhi a day later. Confident that my Hinglish conversation with a train attendant informed me that our next stop was a long one, about 10-15 minutes, I went for it. Leeping from the train as it rolled to a stop, I ran the required few hundred meters to the public phone. Sure enough, a huge line around the two outdoor phones. Waiting, eyeing the guys on the phones, eyeing the train, eyeing the phones, etc.., I finally picked up the receiver. This first call was the one I was least looking forward to: calling Papa at 3:45 a.m. his time to try to quickly get the time she left Sea-Tac from him while softly stating that there may have been a miscommunication. Lucky for me, he was quite reasonable (or just real sleepy) and even mentioned, “ya, there was something weird about the day she gets in.” Verifying that she left Sea-Tac late morning verified that my mom was destined to land in Delhi that Sunday evening in the dark with nobody there to meet her, no hotel reservation, and no help as to what to do. Not good. With the phones a fairly aggressive catfight and the phone operator continuously urging the users to hurry up, once I put the receiver down somebody grabbed it. Without any love from anybody, I was at the back of the line after paying for the first call. This next call was the remedy and I found myself doing the eye bob between phone and train way too frequently. Fortunately, my second call was all I had to make as our hotel had an opening for that evening and would provide an airport pick-up for her.

She was not expecting a stranger holding a sign with her name on it so it took them a little while to connect, but it all worked out. She was quite proud of herself, as she should be, for making it happen.

It doesn't get any more respectable for the vagabond son. I will keep this shorter and less painful (for the reader and mainly me). After being told false information from immigration upon arriving in India and getting the run around from various Foreigners Regional Offices, we learned a couple days ago that Em and I need to leave the country before our six month mark which comes in less than a week! Ya, how cool..."Welcome to India Mom, we're leaving!" Fortunately, she continues to impress me with her free spirited, "that sounds like fun" attitude. With some heavy weight from her vote, we decided we will go to Nepal for a few days!!!

With those stories behind me, it has been fantastic to see her and have her here. We have been staying in Old Delhi, awakening to the local Muslim prayer call early in the morning (and hearing it repeated another four times throughout the day), and been enjoying the sights from the hotel window and walking through the streets. Our first night we witnessed a Hindu wedding below us where the crew transitioned a slummy alley way into an extravagant setting in just a couple hours. The overall vibe is much less tout-heavy (salesman-all-over-tourists) as the backpacker area, Paharganj, we stayed in earlier, and has tons of great local color.

This morning we took the train to Agra for some monument viewing and now we're off to visit the Taj Mahal!

Labels: India

After several monsoon-soaked days in Cochin, we decided to roll the dice and take a day-long backwater cruise. Waiting on the hotel's front steps for taxi pickup, we met Chris, and American PhD student on a weekend escape from his research project. Telling him about our ski touring adventures in the Kullu Valley, and outdoor pursuits back home in Washington, we soon had poor Chris (a Colorado outdoor guy studying on the east coast) thinking hard about his remaining school time in Rhode Island. Not so many mountains there. It was interesting talking to him and getting a better understanding of the panchayat system (decentralized self-governance system, pushed hard by Ghandi, but only recently put into much practice) and a taste of Keralan politics, shortly after the communist party has been elected back into power in the state. When the taxi picked us up, we met the rest of the cruise-goers: a French man, and two Swiss (one of whom - Mesum - was born in India). The cruise itself was a very relaxing affair - a covered boat poled through the water by a boatman on each end. (Pictures will be coming soon... hopefully.) The backwaters are a system of lakes and canals surrounded by palm plantations and covered in mats of drifting water hyacinth. Cormorants, kingfishers, Indian pond herons, and brahminy kites, along with villagers in canoes and little round boats, all compete for fish. Over the course of the morning, we stopped at a factory where locals extract meat from the clams found in the backwaters, then turn the shells into lime. We also stopped at a small-scale rope-making operation, where a family turns the fibers of coconut husks into rough rope. Lunch was served in a thatched shelter on an island, and dished up on a banana leaf. Yummy! The weather stayed amazingly nice, considering the previous few days, and we got a brief foray out on a smaller, non-covered boat. Mesum, a professional photographer, was pretty nervous about his expensive camera equipment, but the rain never came. All of us felt pretty sleepy on the post-lunch journey back to the taxi, and we managed a bit of a nap back at the hotel before meeting up with Chris and Mesum for dinner. After a dry day, we weren't totally surprised when a solid sheet of water slammed into us on our walk to the restaurant. Soaking aside, it was a great end to a fantastic day.

We are now in Bangalore for a few days before heading north to pick up Momma K!!! Being the IT capital of India, Bangalore is incomparably the most western cosmopolitan slice of life we've experienced the last six months. We are staying in the trendy neighborhood called MG Road where the consumerism is at full board. Retail outlets such as Levis, trendy espresso chains, pubs, bars, restaurants, i.e. very much like home (but with large, gaping holes in the sidewalks). And quite honestly, we are basking in the luxuries.

We met up with Vikram and Anushri (the owners of Jungle Hut) for breakfast yesterday to go over our observations and suggestions for their jungle resort. They seemed to appreciate our input and we were pleased to learn that they intend to move to Jungle Hut in about five years and spend the rest of their lives there. We are excited for its future and look forward to visiting it at some future time. Later we found ourselves ordering an espresso drink from the Starbucks-like establishment called Barista for the second day in a row. Shortly after finishing our well poured Americanos on the veranda, we figured we were due for a beer together. We went into Pub World where the dark wood furniture and Multiple TVs showing live Wimbledon action did a respectable job of replicating an English pub. Getting cocky with our western surroundings, I was envisioning my first dark ale since arriving on this subcontinent. Reality came back quickly when the server listed the beers on tap...Kingfisher. Yes, only one lager. While we have come to only trust Kingfisher (some not so good experiences with other beers), even it's quality varies state to state. Fortunately, it is reliable here in Karnataka. Tasting good, we ordered another and with the stereo playing some quality tunes from home, we decided to list our Top 20 songs. As this drill is always good fun, this instance it really highlighted our current music deprivation. Then it was Emily's turn to play frogger across the street and use a pay phone to call some local friends. She returned successful this time and with a big grin stating "I think we are in trouble tonight." She reached Anish and he told us to meet him at The Nightwatchman for a Pub Crawl. Ouch. We had kind of given up on reaching anybody for the night and had been ordering beer thinking Pub World was our last stop before bed. Now a Pub Crawl. Uh-oh.

We walked home to drop off the backpack and then hailed the first rickshaw. Not knowing where The Nightwatchman was, we were happy with the driver's suggested fee of only 20 Rupees. Sure enough, he drove us about a third of the distance we just walked and dropped us on the sidewalk right outside our desired bar which happened to be located about 15 feet away from the sidewalk we just walked home on. Classic. With our minds focused on music, The Nightwatchman did not disappoint. Upon finding out that we were from Seattle, the DJ did a good job of slipping in some home-town favorites, tickling my music button further by playing some Pearl Jam and Nirvana. I commented to Anish that this was the best sound system I had heard since arriving in India. Em laughed and swore it was because Eddie Vedder was the voice booming out of it. This always helps, but it was a great sound system!

Fortunately, there was no Pub Crawl. We did our best to compete in the quiz going on at Nightwatchman and before we knew it was after 11:00 and the bar was closing. There was an unfortunate accident about a year ago which influenced the Bangalore authorities to disallow any alcohol service after 11:30 p.m. Quite a shocker for this town as it had a pretty big party image. Considering the average IT employee works until about 10:00 (dealing with US companies in a time zones 10-12 hours away), there are opportunities after hours and most don't consider the evening starting until after hours anyway. Anish wanted to entertain us and had called a friend for the next hot spot. Em wisely chose to be dropped off at our hotel and I continued along. We first stopped by a friend's house and then found ourselves heading back to the MG Road area, entering a nice restaurant/bar via the kitchen door for a final drink. Unexpected, I saw Vinod (a Jungle Hut regular) there and came to realize that Bangalore really is not that big. At over 6 million people living in the city, it is only a small fraction of those who can afford the social pleasures.

It was a fun night and I felt good contributing my support to the locals' confidence in Bangalore's economic future. With daily headlines of software giants investing more and more here all the time, I don't blame them for living it up. I warned slightly of how India's current momentum reminded me of the US's strength in the late '90s and then threw out some controversial talk at how India may be heading towards a huge civil war as it is a small minority who are basking in the contemporary wealth while the heart and soul of the country plunder on in the villages. Some in the conversation had spent time in the US and countered by saying the US also has a huge separation in the way the upper class live with the lower class. True, but we do have a decent sized middle class. Quite different here as India's majority (like over 90% majority) live in villages where a TV is cutting edge. When our economy is strong, the entire middle class and hence a majority of the country feels it. The 90% of Indians are not feeling anything different today than they did a year ago even though their stock market has doubled. Anyhow, a great late night conversation and one of the many reasons I am interested to see this country evolve.

Tomorrow we are on the train for a 40 hour journey northbound to Delhi. Then we pick Momma K up later Monday evening! We are so excited to see her and take in some more of India with her. We are also looking forward to mixing it up and having a third travel partner. While Em and I are kind of amazed at how well we still get along considering we have spent most all the last six months with each other (and lots of that time with only each other), we know a little space or change will be healthy. We intend to leave India shortly after my mom does as we are both getting antsy to start something more meaningful. Em will take her TEFL course in August and then we will decide on a location to settle down and find some work. Em will teach English in a local school and I am unsure on what endeavors I will pursue and probably will remain that way until I know what community (and country) will be called home for the next year. Lots of good ideas and will definitely be ready to execute some of them.

Labels: India

While it was definitely time for us to move on from Jungle Hut, we will miss it. Sacchi and Pooja and the crew took very good care of us, the jungle was facinating, and the buffet.... did we mention the food was amazing?

We finally managed to make it out with Abid last week. We continue to be entertained by the different guiding styles, and he took us on a stunningly beautiful hike down into the Moyar River Gorge (pictures are in the same Jungle Hut Album). After Bella's insistance on small group sizes, we were surprised when Abid picked us up at 5:30 in the morning with an extra 3 people in tow. He explained that he's trying to get some of the local boys out into the jungle so they can appreciate it more, and not end up poaching and abusing the jungle. He had mentioned before that we could fish in the river, and we said that would be fun. In the interim, we found out that fishing there is illegal, so that morning we told him that we'd rather the group not fish ("No problem, no problem."). After a nice flat beginning to the hike, we started down the very steep trail into the gorge, with beautiful views across the river into Bandipur National Park. We were happy for the overcast skies, as it was already getting hot and sticky, even at first light. Even as Abid told us in hushed tones that sometimes he saw bear along this stretch, the three tag-alongs took off down the trail ahead of us. We asked Abid if it would be possible to keep the group together so we could all see whatever might be on the trail... he looked puzzled, but called them back. He had told us it would take 3 hours to hike down and 3 to hike back up, so we had prepared for a very long day on the trail. But to Abid's surprise, we were down at the river 45 minutes after leaving the car. When we told him later what we'd been up to in the Kullu Valley, it made more sense - he's really not used to taking mountain people out. Down at the river, the boys pulled out their fishing net (?) and got down to business, and we did some hiking up- and down-river. Not many animal tracks (unless you count those of the tribals that camp there), but lots of lizards and butterflies, some monkeys and giant squirrels, and one really big spider. After a lovely nap on some warm rocks, it was definitely starting to look and sound like it might rain. We told the guys to hurry up and cook their fish, and started back up the gorge. We just made it up out of the steep part when the skies opened up, and within a couple of minutes we were completely drenched. The rain actually felt really good after the tough hike up, and we made it back to the jeep an hour after leaving the river, with the three boys panting and continuously asking us "you tired, legs hurt?"

We definitely saw our fair share of tropical bugs in the Nilgiris. After I posted some pictures that tended heavily toward beetles and millipedes, Dad said it should be titled "Bugs Gone Wild". I don't know if it would sell as well as the other titles in the Gone Wild series... I did end up having an unfortunate run-in with a mystery spider of some kind. I ended up with a nasty bite on my shoulder (we never saw the culprit) and after it got pretty ugly-looking (nothing nearly as bad as the pictures I found online of brown recluse bites) took Sacchi's advice and went to the clinic in Masinagudi. The doc didn't look all that worried, and wrote me a perscription for some antibiotics, which did the trick. A week after I went to his office, it's looking fairly good, although it would be nice if I could keep it dried out better. Nothing is dry here. As things got wetter in the Nilgiris, we also started seeing more mosquitoes, and while they're not nearly as thick nor as aggressive as North Dakota's state bird, we're very aware about the assorted nasties these tropical skeeters can spread. So we've been smearing ourselves with toxic deet, and hoping it's better to slowly poison ourselves than end up with malaria. We do have relief in sight, though - Mom's sending a care package of Avon Skin-so-Soft with Pat (thanks Mrs. Koepke!).

We managed to make it out one more time with Abid for a morning of bird watching in another beautiful setting. I've been keeping track in the Indian bird book Jenny gave me for Christmas, and I crossed the 100 bird mark. Sounds pretty good until you figure there are over 1300 different species on the Indian subcontinent. I'll keep working on it.

Our last few days at the Hut were spent trying to wrap up our self-imposed projects in the office (very little luck there) and figure out where in Kerala we were off to next, leaving when, and by what means of travel. Every person we talked to had a different opinion on the matter. From a Tuesday afternoon departure, we slipped all the way to an eventual Thursday morning exit. We considered trains, buses, and jeeps, and settled on the route Vinnie swore his mom took regularly, involving a Deluxe bus to Cochin. Right. After heated debate with poor Gerald, who could not understand what us silly foreigners wanted, we finally made it onto a local bus (read crowded and uncomfortable) to Thissur, where we'd be changing buses to get to Cochin. The ride down out of the Nilgiris was gorgeous, with tea estates and Wyanad National Park slowly giving way to rubber, coconut, and banana plantations. The windy road was tough on the passengers - 3 of the ladies on my side of the bus spent a good portion of the first hour hanging out the windows. The second bus was a shorter ride, and much more comfortable. Arriving in Cochin (or, as the mainland part is properly called, Ernakulam) we caught an auto rickshaw to the ferry terminal, where we got on a passenger ferry to Fort Cochin, which is a peninsula off the mainland the Lonely Planet assured us was a more romantic choice to stay. Grand total transportation cost for the two of us for 8 hours and 5 different conveyances: 380 rupees (~$8). Hooray for uncomfortable local transport! Walking from the ferry landing to our "Homestay" we turned down several persistent rickshaw-wallas, only to take a good soaking when the ominious dark clouds proved not to be just an idle threat. Now this is the monsoon.

Our homestay is lovely. Homestay here means it's an old home - usually Portuguese or Dutch - that's been converted into a guesthouse. Many, like ours, are nearly 400 years old. Our room has beautiful woodwork, and opens onto a courtyard with a garden in the middle, and a miniature replica of the huge cantilevered fishing nets Cochin is famous for. Our program so far has gone approximately like so: rain - breakfast - rain - nap - rain - shopping - rain Kathakali - rain - etc. The weather has been impressive - we've only been caught out in the real downpours (that's not even a strong enough term for the wall of water that descends) a few times. It's much better to watch it from inside, or better yet, from the covered ferry out on the water. The kids in the field keep playing football regardless. (Speaking of football, we watched the US of A get beat by Ghana the other night... what was up with that penalty call?) We've spent some time wandering around the area, watched the fishermen operating the nets at high tide, and caught a Kathakali performance. Kathakali is traditional Keralan theater/opera/dance, and quite an experience. The locals go to the temples to watch all-night performances, but for tourists the cultural centers host abbreviated versions with introductions in English. If you go early, they let you watch the actors do their makeup - a process that takes an hour and a half! They are done up into caricature versions of Indian gods, goddesses, and demons, complete with elaborate costumes and jewelry. A singer narrates, accompanied by two drummers, and the actors pantomime and dance out the story. Afterward, there was a music performance by a north Indian tabla player, and the same singer from the Kathakali sang ragas. Today we took the ferry back over to Ernakulum for some shopping and a look around.

Tomorrow we're hoping to walk down to "Jewtown", the area where the dwindling Jewish population has resided for at least the last 800 years (I know they've been in India for 2000, but I'm not sure if they started in Cochin). And Monday we might try to do a backwater tour... depending on how bad we think the weather might get. We do have more Cochin pictures coming, but while the internet here is speedy, their photo-editing programs are not.

Labels: India

With the laziness beginning to wear off and the extra trips through the buffet line starting to show, I knew it was time to satisfy the body’s need to get moving again. We are limited to our hiking freedom due to the danger of elephants and other wildlife. Before arriving here, we thought we would be out hiking quite a bit and possibly even leading such treks. Due to some legality issues of foreigners leading groups and more importantly our safety, we have learned that venturing into this jungle is best with a local guide. While elephants are not man-eaters, they are quite unpredictable and can be very aggressive (and known to rag doll our species with great ease). Fortunately, we have been put in contact with Greg at Jungle Retreat and Bella – local jungle man!

Both have quite different styles: Greg is the get-to-the-top guy (great for me!) while Bella is much more the silent-stalker for wildlife sightings (great for Em!). Ironically, and we will not tell Bella this as he would be devastated, we have seen more large mammals with Greg. This morning while jolting down the trail, Greg came to an abrupt stop before back-tracking and telling us to back up. Seconds later, a small herd of elephant crossed the trail about 30 m in front of us. One mother had enormous ears and was guessed to be well over 50 years old. There were also a couple babies in the group. We hung out, let them do their thing (which was lethargically chomp the local shrubs and grasses), and then passed. Just a few minutes further down the trail, we heard the langur (acrobatic monkey) consistently chant their panic call. This is to alert the other langurs that a leopard or panther is nearby. No we did not see a cat, and do not expect to, but we are feeling our chances of spotting one (even the tiger) increase when we’re out with Bella.

While Greg is a young 20-something who looks fairly western, Bella was born and raised locally, and looks exactly like you would imagine a jungle guide should: camouflage pants, old green shirt, and carries a machete. Watching him track wildlife is fantastic! In addition to finding clues through pugmarks and dung, Bella gains information by feeling the warmth of local branches or tapping his machete against the trunk of a tree. Most prevalent for successful tips is his sense of smell. He will often stop on point with his nose in the air and then lead us a certain direction. We’re not sure how much of this activity is for show and how much has some practical wildlife-tracking purpose, but we enjoy all of it! In addition, he keeps conversation to a limited whisper while predominantly using hand gestures. While we understand some basic stop or come signals, we were a little uncertain to some of the other twirly finger maneuvers during our first outing with him. But with time, we are getting it.

With Bella, we have tracked an elephant, a group of wild boar, langurs, giant squirrel, spotted deer, and more birds than I know what to do with. During one short afternoon walk, Em spotted 28 different birds and 8 additional ones she could not positively identify. Some feathered highlights include: grey-headed fish eagle, fish owl, Malabar grey hornbill, several types of parakeet, sunbirds, and many more. While we are stoked to just be out in such a foreign ecosystem, Bella is a large-mammal specialist and seems determined for us to see “rare-animals” like the tiger. We’ll see!

With a stall in the monsoon, the weather here has been excellent…some sunshine, some clouds, very little rain, and temperatures in the mid 80s. Instead of an early monsoon meteorologists were predicting with the bad weather a couple weeks ago, now they are fearing heat waves and draughts up north in the next couple weeks. With most all of India (and this part of the globe) dependent on the monsoons, we hope the rains come soon.

Labels: India

Life at Jungle Hut

We’ve definitely slipped into tropical lethargy. We’ve been very lucky that the temperatures have stayed reasonable – and now that we’ve officially turned the bend into monsoon season, it isn’t likely we’ll see the extreme heat that’s possible down here.

O.K....life here at Jungle Hut: During the week we stay in one of the guest rooms, and then when the rooms fill up on the weekends, we migrate into the main house, where there’s a few spare beds. The food here is fantastic. Granny should be very happy about my meat intake (I made the mistake of telling her while we were still up north that we were only getting meat every other day but eating enough lentils to compensate - I think she was worried). Here at the lunch and dinner buffets, there are always at least 2 meat options per meal – yummy chicken, fish, and beef (!), as well as mutton, which we mostly avoid. Veggies, salads, different breads, and very nice desserts round out the extensive offerings. Breakfast is toast, cornflakes, bananas, Indian breakfast of dosas, masala stuff, chutney, eggs made to order, and bacon or sausage if desired.

Our work schedule hasn’t settled into much of a routine yet… we mostly hang around trying to be helpful. We man the office, taking bookings and answering questions. We do a lot of “general hospitality” stuff, making sure the rooms get cleaned and are ready for the guests, showing guests to their rooms, and making sure they have everything they need. We play scrabble and cards (in the office or out on the deck), watch the birds and deer, and play with the dogs. In case we were to forget we’re in the jungle, there are big frogs (or maybe toads?) on the deck at night, geckos in our room, garden lizards on the trees, 7-ft. tall termite mounds along the paths, and bright-colored and/or enormous beetles bumbling around. Occasionally we go for a walk on the road, or catch a ride into town to grab something. Weekends are a bit more eventful, with more of the Bangalore crowd and often some of Vikram’s (whose parents started Jungle Hut, and who now owns the place) friends around. Pool parties, bonfires, and cocktails mark the weekends.

Some of our pictures are here, and more will be coming.

Gerry and the Snakes

Last week we met Gerry Martin (the local expert herpetologist, who's done work for Natinoal Geographic) when he came down from Jungle Retreat (where he leads kids’ and corporate groups) to give us a brief lecture and show off some of the snakes that he and Greg have recently caught to study. I was lucky enough to get to handle a beautiful ~3-1/2 ft Ceylon cat snake before Gerry brought out a spectacled cobra, which he kept hold of by the tail!

Then a few nights ago he asked if we wanted to go chameleon hunting. (Of course!) Trevor and I piled into the jeep with Greg and Robin, and we drove around for about 45 minutes. We saw a garden lizard, and they showed us how reptiles’ bodies catch the light differently than the foliage (I have to admit, it must be an acquired skill, as I couldn’t see the difference). After a while they decided we should try the area around Jungle Retreat on foot (Trevor headed home for some overdue shuteye – the fierce windstorms the 2 nights previous had kept us from getting much sleep at all). Right away we spotted a nightjar (bird) and while it was stunned by the light I got a nice look a the brown whiskered bird. We hadn’t walked long when the guys found our quarry: a lovely green chameleon, sound asleep gripping a branch. Robin coaxed the slow-moving lizard off the branch, and transferred it to his shoulder, where it stayed for about 5 seconds before making it’s way to the top of his head, gripping his hair one slow step at a time. They also managed to snag a mouse, which they brought back to Greg’s room where 2 aquariums house their current collection of snakes – 2 kraits, a wolf snake, the Ceylon cat snake, a bamboo pit viper, and Malabar pit viper. The Malabar viper had been shunning the frogs and geckos the others ate, and the mouse was offered in the hope that she’d be more exited about livelier prey. After only 5 minutes, she made her preference clear with a spectacularly fast strike. (I went home and told Trevor he missed all the good stuff… but then a few days later I stayed home while he went for a drive with Vinnie and they saw 2 sloth bears.)

Keith & Co

We saw Keith’s work before we met the man himself - his cartoon leopard graces the front of Jungle Hut’s t-shirts. He and his wife Valerie, and two sons (Hayden and Graham) were here for almost a week, and we had a great time hanging out with them. The Francis family was kind enough to take us along on their morning safari to Anikutti, where we saw spotted deer, sambar, gaur, wild boar, peafowl, and even a mongoose! The drive through the preserve at dawn was fantastic – the back of the jeeps are open, and we did most of the ride standing up holding onto the bars on top for a better view. We also got a great view of a crested eagle. I think Keith was really disappointed he didn’t get to show us elephants, but we were more than happy with the experience.

All in all we had a nice visit with Keith and Co., and though we don’t know if we’ll be able to take them up on their invitation to come to Mumbai/Bombay this time around, we have a feeling we’ll be seeing them again sometime.

Hiking with Greg and Vinnie

We arranged for Vinnie to pick us up at 6am, and told Greg to expect us up at Jungle Retreat at 6:15. Several people put the odds on Vinnie showing up at somewhere in the neighborhood of 233-1. Trevor had faith…. But we gave up waiting and starting walking up to Retreat at 6:15. Vinnie surprised us, though, and drove up behind us before we were halfway there. Some bananas and a cup of coffee later, we hit the trail.

The first 15 minutes was a flat hike between houses and around fences, but then we met up with the main trail and started up. Rains the night before made the trail into the perfect canvas for animal tracks, and we saw “pugmarks” (Indian term for tracks) of panther, sambar, and gaur. We saw the drama of a mouse deer being pursued by a jungle cat (the deer is about the size of a medium dog, the cat a bit larger than a domestic cat), perfectly preserved in the mud. The trail meandered uphill through broadleaf forest, most of the trees not more than 30 or 40 feet tall. A swaying of branches off to the side alerted us of the presence of a pair of giant squirrels, orange and brown animals ~2-1/2 ft long. We rounded a bend in the trail and Greg brought us to an abrupt halt – grazing obliviously on the trail ~100ft ahead was a gaur (Indian bison). It didn’t notice us for a few minutes, during which Greg informed us that when he did, he’d either charge or run away. Gaur don’t bluff if they charge, so we were all scoping out the nearby tree-climbing options. He eventually noticed us, and after staring for a minute or two, decided to retreat into the brush. A little further on, Greg managed to pick out (with binoculars) some sambar grazing on the hillside opposite us.

We encountered the usual impressive array of bugs and birds, and Vinnie impressed us with his local bird knowledge. Who knew he was a bird guy? The weather stayed pleasant for hiking – overcast, with only a slight misting, but luckily not sunny (the sun here is a force to be reckoned with). After reaching the camp (~ 1850 m) we had a nice tromp back down the hill to retreat (~ 950 m) and a lime juice and soda.

Coming up…

Tomorrow we’re going out for an early morning trek with Bella, a local wildlife guru with a fantastic mustache. Should be interesting.

Further out, we’ve been corresponding feverishly with Pat (Trev’s Mom), who’s coming to visit in July. We’re starting to lay down some more definite plans for her visit, and all getting very excited about it.

Even further out, I’ve started registration for my teaching course in Thailand. It’s in a quiet little fishing town on the coast, so we’re looking forward to that as well.

Labels: India

We've arrived and settled, and life is going well at Jungle Hut. The trip down was long but fairly pleasant - we took the semi-sleeper AC bus to Delhi, making the 12-hour ride much more pleasant. Our day in Delhi was... educational. First priority was booking train tickets, which we'd been unable to do from Manali (the system was down, and via phone all the trains were completely booked, leaving us to pin our hopes on the foreigner ticket quota, which we'd have to buy in person in Delhi). It turns out we're still not quite as savvy as we'd like to think we are. On our way to the foreigner ticket office in the train station, we were intercepted by a very nice man with train station ID who helpfully explained to us that the office was closed on Sunday, but we needed to go to the government tourist office where they could offer the same services. He showed us on the map, and even helped us get an autorickshaw. At said office, we were told there were no tickets (even foreigner quota) for the next four days. However, if we did a car tour to Agra they could arrange a train ticket from there.... wait a minute. After a quick consultation with the Lonely Planet, and comparison of the exact name of the office we were sitting in, we realized we'd been had. It was indeed not the government tourist office (which did exist, about six doors down, but was closed). After catching an auto back to the train station, we made our way up to the foreigner ticket office and by 10am we were able to get our tickets south to Bangalore the same night. We found some breakfast then decided to visit the Bahai temple (amazing building put up in the 80s shaped like an enormous lotus flower). Meanwhile, the temperatures were rising. The pleasant morning turned wicked hot, and we thought we'd burn the soles of our feet on the tile walkways around the temple (the collect up your shoes as you approach). By the time we met up with Bill and Daisy (who is almost 3), it was pushing 45 degrees Celsius (113F). We went and visited some of their other British friends living in the city, had some coffee at a place that felt like it could have been in downtown Seattle, and went back to their house for some ski movie viewing. Warren Miller went to Manali sometime back in the 80s, and did more of a special on the ski scene there than one of his full movies. We had a quick visit with Bill's wife Karen when she got home from work, and then it was time to head for the train station.

We had splurged a bit and bought 2-tier air-con tickets, and it was well worth the few extra rupees. The train ride was actually very pleasant, despite that fact we were on for over 40 hours. Each car is arranged into little compartments, and your ticket is actually for a bunk. With 2-tier, the bunks are only 2 deep, with both people sitting on the lower bunk during the day. This works out really well if you are 2 traveling together. They give you sheets, blankets, and a pillow, and you can be fed 3 meals a day fairly inexpensively. The whole trip was very comfortable.

In Bangalore we decided to stay overnight and catch the morning bus out, and we had a very nice evening out on the town. We found a nice outdoor restaraunt just in time to watch a spectacular evening thunder storm from the comfort of a covered deck, and had steak and red wine (!) for dinner. Our bus ride was a bit of a fiasco... we were at the station bright and early for the 7am bus the Tamil Nadu State bus window promised us, only to find there were no buses until 8:30. I got in line at the Karnataka State window, and barely managed to get us tickets on that one. We made it on and took off... and then the bus broke down. They got it going, but with no AC. The AC buses have no opening windows, so minus the AC turn into mobile ovens, so they eventually shuffled most passengers off onto another AC bus. We got off at the wildlife center as arranged, but very late, and found not a ride in sight, but plenty of monkeys to watch in the meantime. A driver did turn up to fetch us, and on the drive to Jungle Hut (where we're actually staying - owned by the same family as Jungle Retreat) we saw peacocks, a gaur (Indian bison) and an elephant charging one of the jeeps in front of us!

After spending 4 days getting here we were happy to find that the Jungle Hut is a very livable place, and think we'll really like it here. The resort has 12 rooms in 3 different blocks, set a little ways from the main building which has the dining room (a beautiful covered verandah with great mountain views), office, kitchens, and staff quarters, with a pool off to one side. There are tons of birds, bugs, and frogs, and the resident herd of spotted deer can usually be seen grazing on the other side of the clearing. Things are going well so far - they've started us out with some "hosting" duties, making sure rooms are ready for guests, greeting them, making sure they're comfortable and help arranging anything they need. We're pretty clueless so far, but learning and hopefully being somewhat helpful. We're in Ooty for the day, and taking advantage of a computer place as the internet isn't working at the resort right now. Posts/emails may be hit a miss until it is, but pictures and more to follow!

Labels: India

Well, this is my final ski post for who knows how long. Wow! What a season it has been…beginning in Alaska in minus 15 degree pow, some soft Cascade turns at home with the crew, and then the last four months of growing my mountain knowledge amongst these most admirable teachers called the Indian Himalaya. I must say I have never felt as content with my mountain experiences and this last trip (pictures) was definitely the frosting on the cake.

Em and I had always envisioned a sunny spring camp on Rohtang Pass to end our ski season. Knowing more about the consistently strong northerly winds ripping over this pass, and with a plethora of alternative exploration routes, we had fun brainstorming potential trips. With some approach advice from our Kiwi friends Neil & Heidi, we decided to head north into the Kulti Valley of Lahaul. This trip would take us out of the habitable world of the Kullu Valley north into the higher regions of Lahaul and The Great Himalaya Range.

We taxied as far up towards Rohtang Pass as possible. While the drive up was sunny, dark clouds were approaching the pass just as fast as the taxi could cover the thirty some kilometers of switchbacks. We toured to the top, deskinned and skied just in front of the clouds to route-find our way down. The skiing was marginal and with the limited visibility, we took a conservative route close to the highway. This turned out beneficial for soon clouds socked in, it began to snow, and we were lucky to catch a taxi returning north to Koksar. With heavy precip and looking forward to a new part of India and some culture, we decided to try to find a guesthouse in the small village of Koksar. Due to regulating all people coming over the pass, we had to stop at the “police station” to register our names, passport number, reason for going over the pass, etc. While they state this is for safety to make sure everyone is accounted for, we think the accounting for is more because of the access into nearby Kashmir. Either way, it turned out to be a beneficial stop. The “police station” had no roof or walls due to snow failure and instead, the army dormitory next door housed the necessary passport check. The people inside were not exactly police, but the rescue team in case anything happened to anybody working on or traveling over the pass while the road was still snow-covered. All employed through the army, they could share titles such as police officer, snow rescuer, army road worker, doctor, etc. With mountain skills and passions, a few were also skiers and very excited to have us as guests. They wouldn’t allow us to stay at the guesthouse as it was “too expensive” and demanded we stay with them on an extra bed. It was quite fun as we finally learned the India card game called sweep, got to watch the chapati-making process, and enjoyed their hospitality.

The skiers of the rescue team were very intrigued with our gear and my career as a ski instructor. Nobody here has had the respect for my ski management position as much as they have for my time ski instructing. So when I am now asked what I did back home from an outdoorsman, I reply ski instructor. Their eyes usually light up, they state with praise, “Ski Master” and either try to find a way to ski with me or use me to make money teaching domestic tourists. O.K., back to the gear…they really wanted to ski on it the next morning. If they would have wanted to ski with both Em and I, we would have happily sacrificed a day of our tour to join them. But instead, they wanted (and stated quite directly) that Emily should stay in while one of them skied on her gear, another one skied on my gear, and I skied on their old straight sticks while giving them pointers. By eliminating Em, they lost us both.

So, we were back on schedule to leave the village of Koksar early for our least desired portion of the trip…fording the Koksar river. A couple hours later, and with numb lower extremeties, we were across the river and heading towards the mouth of our desired location, the Kulti Valley. After a few more hours of hiking with heavy packs (including skis, boots, a week’s worth of food, etc.) we set camp just at snowline. The next day we pushed to a most desirable base camp location underneath tons of moderate ski lines. In the afternoon, we toured up the valley towards the bottom of an icefall that limited easy access any further up the valley. This was just fine as everything on the climber’s right side of the valley was full of great looking ski routes. The valley floor sits at ~3600m, was covered with a few feet of snow (~12’ snow banks on the river in the shady areas) and had that much more snow on all the west- to north-facing aspects on the climber’s right side. Due to being farther north and our aspect, the snow was remaining good much later in the day than the south facing slopes I recently skied in the Solang Valley. So, we didn’t need any sort of headlamp starts in order to still get high and get the goodies.

The first big ski day Em led us up to the top of the tasty slopes directly above camp to one of many unnamed peaks. We had to name it something, so this skiable delight became E&T Peak (and Em’s new high point at ~4650m). We took the aesthetic path directly fall line down ~3000ft of prime corn conditions. Then we began our afternoon routine of lunch, cards, nap, etc.

The next morning we awoke to some clouds south and uncertainty as to what the weather would do. With this uncertainty and Em’s legs feeling the last few days, she chose to keep her head down. I started up with beautiful rays of sun protruding over a nearby peak. Fortunately, the weather cleared and I had a most wonderful outing. I had eyed an aesthetic line the day before that contoured around a huge ice bulge and led up a skinnable summit ridge. With weather and conditions bomber, I soon found myself next to a summit flag overlooking the huge glaciated valley just east of us. You may not believe this, but the descent was just as fun as the approach!!! Meanwhile - after waking up late - Em chose to skin up along the gully for some bird watching and a light morning ski.

Our next day, we toured back to E&T Peak and skied a different aspect of more creamy goodness. The amount of skiable exploration just above our camp could warrant a couple more days, and then there is always further up valley. The Kulti Valley did not disappoint!

We received new snow that night and awoke to a beautiful blanket of whiteness to begin our descent out of the valley. With the warm days up in the valley and watching the fingers of the meandering Kulti River grow, we didn’t expect our snow bridge downstream to still be there and chose to ford the river up near camp. We passed a beautiful marsh on the other side of the valley that provided much more life than expected. The walk out was pretty straightforward and the warm days had turned much of the landscape from brown and white on the way up to green grass and wildflowers on the way down. We stopped next to a spring that provided habitat for many wildflowers. I laid down and soaked in the scenery as Em stayed on her feet chasing butterflies with the camera.

We reached the mouth of the river where we camped (the megamid on grass!) in order to get an early start for the despised Koksar river crossing. The evening was quite nice…warm, summer camping conditions. The hike down the Chandra river the next morning was done quickly and quietly as all the small waterways we crossed a week earlier at the same time of day were perceptibly much larger to both of us now. Just before reaching the Koksar drainage, we saw a couple people working some fields, then a couple children…could this mean they replaced the bridge over the Koksar? We risked such hope by talking aloud of a new bridge but both knew not to expect anything. Sure enough, we rounded the final corner and there stood the most bomber footbridge we had seen in India. Heavy pack and all, Em was still busting a move and the high fives were flying.

Shortly after the comforting bridge crossing, we were back with our rescue team friends. In addition to the ordinary hospitality cup of chai, they offered us fresh mango. Yes, fresh mango in Lahaul, the land of snow and rock. This meant one thing…Rohtang Pass was cleared and car traffic was traveling over! Relieved, we hung out for a little bit, exchanged contact info, then got in a taxi that took us to our front door in Solang! Even open for traffic, the crossing over the pass was an adventure. The road cut through 20+ ft snow walls on the upper switchbacks, and was completely clogged with tourist traffic most of the way down the Kullu Valley side. Throughout several hours of stop-and-go traffic (rush hour at 3900m!) our jeep windows were continually approached by vendors selling coffee, tea, and saffron that our driver assured us was most certainly fake.

Exploration galore, new friends, tons of great ski lines, and ski conditions holding bomber late in spring - Lahaul and the Kulti Valley delivered the goodies.

Now, it is a couple days of errands, a social “going away” evening with friends, and then we are jungle-bound!!!

Labels: India, ski touring

We're back out of the mountains for the final time this season. Trevor is working on the ski post, and I just wanted to sneak in a few things I meant to post before we headed out:

The "Om Tara Invitation Guest Room" (pictures) is now officially open! After much sewing of curtains and building of beds, Peter and Poonam had their first guests (an American couple) a few days ago. I took a few pictures before the guests arrived (and was treated to another of Poonam's fantastic meals - this time red rice, dal, and local wild spinach).

Before the guys came back from the mountains, Dave and I went for a hike up Fatru (pictures) to look for birds and monkeys. The monkeys (langurs, actually) were a no-show, but we did see plenty of birds and wildflowers, and a couple friendly local dogs followed us for the entire hike and scramble.

Labels: India, Kullu Valley

Well, as Emily described, the weather had been inconsistent at best and the ski gods were not dishing up the good karma for the western ski buddies as hoped for. The crew understood the respect mountains deserve (especially these young beasts that rise and fall constantly) and made the most of the many non-ski attractions of this magical kingdom. We ended up bailing on the heli-drop due to a poor weather forecast and instead taxied towards Rohtang Pass for one day of decent weather to get us deep into a basin and then sit in the tent for a long day and night of Himalayan thunder/lightning/snowstorm. For photos of this Rummy heavy/ski light trip, click here.

I just read Em’s post and she did a great job of summarizing our non-ski activities. The one thing she left out, and it does deserve mentioning, is the complete butt-kicking Pepe delivered to all of us in Rummy 500. He won nine straight games and I placed last in just about all of them. We are all a little worried for Pepe and his relationship with Carla as after his first 3 losses with Em and I, he stated with sincere passion that cards and love-life are indirectly related (meaning if doing poorly in cards, one’s love life is great, and vice-versa). Boy, Carla must have enjoyed her time alone in Argentina!!!

With a sketchy forecast ahead of us, but days limited for Pepe and Rob, the crew decided to head up the Solang Valley and see what happens. Rob and Pepe were both passionate that they would rather be in the mountains in uncertain weather than in the hotel as massive formations of rock, ice, and snow is what drew them across the globe. With no expectations except inspiring terrain and great companionship, we headed out with some light overcast overhead. In just a couple hours, it was raining at that most lovely temperature just above freezing. Pepe was holding strong, realizing that his skiing chances for the next day (his last chance) were slowly diminishing, but still wanting to camp somewhere in the mountains. After another hour or two of wet downpour, his tune had changed and he was dreaming of a civilized Iceland Hotel. I was indifferent (knowing the warm shower and hot tea would be nice) and Bolton wanted to stick it out (mostly to get in the tent to avoid more moisture even if it meant heading back to Solang the next day). With a wet hug goodbye to Pepe, Bolton and I threw up the Megamid as quick as ever and dove into our sleeping bags. All we really hoped for was the chance to dry our gear the next day (an extra bonus would be to actually tour or ski). The early morning bathroom call brought clear skies and by 6:30 a.m. the hot Indian sun began its work as we hung out all our items. To our happy surprise, the sky remained blue and we were packed up and moving higher up the valley by 9:00 a.m.

We set camp at 3500m at the bottom of a northern valley with lots of big south facing lines falling off a summit ridgeline boasting peaks over 5000m. After a quick tour to the head of the Solang Valley just underneath Hanuman Tibba, we returned to our site shortly before Frank had showed up on our track to camp. It was great to see him as he always carries a smile and positive energy. We all were stoked we got the bluebird day and just hoping the gods would deliver one more so we could get up high.

Well, the gods have not stopped delivering blue bird conditions and we skied our brains out for the next few days until out of food and needing to get Bolton back to catch his bus to Delhi. I will let the photos do most of the talking, but basically we got what every ski mountaineer planning a trip hopes for. With big descents from over 5000m (one from the summit of Shitidar at ~5200m or ~`17,000 ft), intense ridgelines with views of steep faced peaks in every direction, creamy corn snow, and a great climbing/skiing team, it was most satisfying! So satisfying in fact, I think I am ready to hang up the skis, head south to the jungle, and begin the next phase of our adventure. But before that happens, Em and I still have our week long trip of sunny turns on and around Rohtang Pass we’ve always planned would end our ski time here. She will not let that vision fade away and we all know the benefits of compromise to satisfy one’s partner!!!

It was fantastic to have good friends make the journey to spend time with us during our adventure and share in the awe of these majestic mountains. I'm glad everyone bucked up and made the most of it, proving that the companionships outshine weather.

Labels: India, Kullu Valley, ski touring

We’ve had an eventful couple of weeks here – so busy we haven’t had a chance to write about it! Between friends arriving from the US and Argentina, the sudden explosion of ski tourers in the valley, and the local friends we've gotten to know over the last few months, we’ve been surrounded by tons of great people. Newly arrived folks have also given Trevor and me a reason to do more of the “touristy stuff” we hadn’t gotten around to. So bear with me, as I have a lot of sights to describe, and a lot of pictures to go with them (Sightseeing Around Manali - Naggar, Hadimba Temple; April Manali – dinner at Peter’s, ski contest, Thangka painter, etc.; Dharamsala).

The Sights Around Manali

Rob and Tyson arrived by bus on the 19th, and we spent the next two days seeing all the sights around Manali. We took a day and went down to Naggar (16km south of Manali) for the castle, temples, and Roerich Gallery. We started out near the top of the hill at the Gallery, which houses a small collection of works by Russian painter Nikolai Roerich, who lived in the Kullu Valley for most of his life. His slightly surrealist Himalayan mountainscapes were very impressive. Naggar Castle was next on our downhill circuit. The Castle was built about 500 years ago by the ruler of the Kullu Valley, and features lovely woodwork and wrap-around balconies with fantastic views of the lower valley. There is a small and intricately carved temple inside one of the castle courtyards. Three very friendly woodcarvers were working in the courtyard – I think a lot of the woodwork on the temple and castle is original, but there has definitely been some maintenance and restoration work. One of the courtyards served as an open-air café, and we opted for some beverages in the sun. The guys ordered up a few bottles of Golden Eagle, a local beer that turned out to be pretty awful. I got a coffee (instant Nescafe, which with a few rare exceptions is the only coffee to be found around here) which was only marginally better. The sun, breeze, atmospheric surroundings, and views more than made up for the drinks. Before heading back up the valley, I took a few minutes to check out an interesting stone temple across from the Castle. It was a quiet spot that obviously didn’t get as much attention as its more imposing neighbor, but had a nice stone-paved courtyard ringed by some overgrown flowerbeds, and some lovely carvings. There had probably been some kind of ceremony there recently, as there were flowers strewn around, and the foreheads of all the carved figures were marked with orange paste. Back in Manali, we spent some time checking out the Hadimba Temple, close to where Trevor and I stayed when we first got into town. The guidebook says it was built in 1553, and it does have the most impressively ancient feel of any of the places we visited, with its age-darkened woodwork, assortment of animal horns, and forest setting. Tyson got lots of good information and pictures to bring home for his classes, and all of us enjoyed the mix of history and domestic Indian tourism. I don’t think the visitors quite believed us about the gargantuan white bunnies toted by aggressive picture-pushing women until they saw them.

Ski Practice & Competition

Sightseeing accomplished, the guys set out into the mountains for 5 days of turns, and I prepared for some quality time on my own. The planners of the Himalayan Ski Village had a ski contest planned for Gulaba on Sunday, and Khem’s 11-year-old son Rajit (home from boarding school on holiday) was excited to enter. HSV had a practice course set up on Saturday, so Rajit, cousin Sanjay, and I piled into a very crowded sharejeep for a bluebird day of practice turns. The boys didn’t really need much watching, so while they hit the gates under the watchful eye of our HSV friends, I took a lap a bit higher up with our friend Dev, who was camped by the racecourse. HSV provided yummy lunch, and we had time for one more quick lap before heading home. Sunday morning started out sunny, making us worry about snow conditions for the contest. The resident ski crowd at the Iceland all wanted to head up to watch, so Heidi (from NZ), Dave (Canadian BC), Alastair and Marina (England), and I caught a taxi up. We decided on a quick tour before the contest, but as we went up the weather started to turn a bit more ominous. A rumble of thunder helped us decide it was time to head down, just in time to see Luder (Khem’s brother) make his third-place finish. By the time Rajit and Sanjay skied, it was snowing, and we were quite happy to head down soon after seeing Sanjay win his division. All of us looked off in the direction of Rhotang Pass (where the guys were camped) and wondered about conditions up there. Several of us decided to head for Manali for the Ski Village award ceremony and after-party. We ran into our friend Bill, who works for HSV in Delhi, and managed a quick visit before the ceremony finally started. The after-party wasn’t holding our attention, so we headed for Chopsticks for momos and beer.

More Manali Fun

On Monday morning it looked like things might clear… and then it started raining. And kept raining all day. Peter had arranged for me to see the studio of his friend who does Thangka paintings – incredibly detailed Buddhist devotional paintings. The painter’s home sits perched on a hill just south of town, and I could see how it would be a good inspirational setting for an artist, as his studio window looked out over the trees and valley below. He and Peter explained a bit more to me about some of the different forms involved in the Thangkas, and I got to take a close look at the process, as he had two large commissioned works in progress. Afterward, Peter and I headed for the carpet store. Peter has rented out the apartment next to his, and is busy fixing it up as a little guest house, so we picked out some carpet, and then set out to get some money from his daughter Neha to pay for it. On the way we got a call from Bill, and the three of us went up to Peter’s place for some tea and to show Bill the new room. Peter had already painted the walls and sewn a bunch of bright, Tibetan-style curtains, and the next step was the carpet we had selected. The part of town he lives in has more of a quiet village feel (a cow lives on the courtyard below, and Peter jokes that the cow gives an 8am wakeup call) and the rooms overlook the wooded neighborhood, as well as having views of Manali and some of the bigger mountains up the valley. Bill had to run off for a meeting, so Peter and I went to fetch the carpet, and I was going to buy carpet glue before heading back to his place for dinner. I called up to the Iceland to invite some of the other folks for dinner if they wanted to join, only to find that Trevor and the guys had come down early, due to some very sketchy conditions brought on by the weather. And I had the only key to our room. I delivered the glue to Peter, took a rain check on dinner, and ran for the 4 o’clock bus.

The next afternoon, Rob, Tyson, Pepe, Trevor and I headed into town for some shopping, to be followed by dinner at Peter’s. The guys were all thinking about Kashmiri shawls as presents for their wives/girlfriends, and I was thinking of picking up a few to complement the Kullu shawls I’d already bought for Mom’s store. Kullu shawls are all hand-loomed, either wool or wool/angora blend, and they usually have bands of pattern woven into the material. Kashmiri shawls can be wool, angora, silk or cashmere (or a blend) and the focus is much more on the copious amounts of embroidery applied. As a general rule, Kashmir shawls are more expensive (for good quality – particularly cashmere), but this is partly because the dealers are notoriously hard to get a good price from. They also tend to exaggerate the quality, or all-out falsify the materials used. Luckily, we had an introduction to the dealer, and a significantly higher chance of at least knowing what we were buying. We were all ushered into the tiny shop, seated on a bench in front of the raised area the dealer sat on (the stage for his act?) and plied with lemon tea. “Hello! Good day my friends!” He then pulled out what was obviously his sample bundle, and showed us the various materials, qualities, and styles, as well as several inferior materials (so that we’d know to recognize what others might try to sell us, of course). The shawls were beautiful, and the prices started ludicrously high – always typed out on the calculator, of course, never spoken. I did some quick math on what I thought they could be sold for at home, and quickly concluded there was no way it would pencil out. No harm trying, though…. Pepe, Tyson, and Rob came to satisfactory prices, made their purchases, and fled. I was still trying to talk down the price on the four shawls I’d selected. I’d almost settled, when Trevor (who plays a great bad cop) cut in and told me I’d be unhappy later if I settled. This magically made the price come down another 1000 rupees ($25). I said I’d call my mom and ask, and we left, leaving him looking a little disgruntled. (The next morning, I relayed that Mom had said no, and the price dropped a further 500 rupees. After an actual call to Mom, this was deemed acceptable and the deal done.)

After collecting the items Peter requested for dinner (rum, beer, and a chicken – mercifully already dead, plucked, and stored in a refrigerated case), we headed up the hill. Bill joined us as well, and Ryan (and HSV employee from CA who I’d just met at the contest) turned up as well. Punam (and Peter and the girls) cooked up several courses of amazing Tibetan food, capped off by this fantastic mango smoothie dessert (I guess Peter used to run a stand selling them – I really should stop being amazed at just how many things he’s done). Great company and great food. Towards 11 folks started looking a little faded (food coma?), so we called up a taxi and headed home.

Dharamsala

Given the continuing bad weather and unsettled snow conditions up high, the group decided to take a ski-hiatus and head for Dharamsala for some more sight-seeing. Dharamsala is the home of the Dalai Lama, and the seat of the Tibetan government in exile. (Quick history background: In the late 1940s the newly-in-power communist government of China invaded Tibet to “liberate” the people. Tibet is an ancient country, with Buddhist roots going back to at least 600AD, and the pre-invasion culture was deeply Buddhist with hundreds of ancient temples and monasteries. Part of the communist “cultural revolution” involved stamping out religion, and therefore the existing culture of Tibet, a territory they insisted was a traditional part of the motherland. Since then, somewhere around 1.2 million Tibetans have been killed, an almost unimaginable assortment of human rights violations committed, and most of the monasteries destroyed along with ancient scriptures and artworks. The Dalai Lama [who is the spiritual leader of the country] fled to India in 1959 [the same year as Peter’s family], and has been followed by about 250,000 other refugees.) We decided to hire Peter to come with as our guide, and he was kind enough to agree despite the nasty cough he’d been trying to shake. The drive to Dharamsala was exhausting, but incredibly beautiful. We went through at least 3 distinct eco-systems, numerous small settlements surrounded by terraced cultivation, and a mind-boggling number of switchbacks. Several types of trees were in spectacular bloom, including 100+ foot tall rhododendrons! We made a rest-stop near some of them, and we turned around to find Peter half-way up one, picking flowers. He brought them down and bit the base off one bloom, explaining that they were good medicine for his cold. We all gave it a try, and they weren’t bad. It turns out the crazy-steep terraces we were passing were all planted in nearly-ripe wheat, which on the sunnier hillsides was already turning a lovely gold. They definitely looked nothing like the wheat fields I grew up around. Arriving in McLeod Ganj (the village above Dharamsala where the DL resides and most tourists stay), we managed to meet up with Al (from Scotland), Alastair, Marina, Dave, and Frank (Canada), who had headed to Dharamsala a day earlier than us with the same idea of killing some down ski days. We all ate some dinner, and team America headed for bed exhausted.

The next day Peter had plenty of activities planned for us. After breakfast and real coffee (!) at a café (where we said goodbye to the other taxi load from the Iceland, who were already headed back), we piled into the taxi to go up to the local high point for a view. Then we went to the village where Punam grew up for tea and yummy, yummy Nepali bread at her brother’s house, stopping at her sister’s house to take a look at all of the beautiful flowers she grows for sale. We stopped in at a Tibetan school, and walked over to Bhagsu to see the pools where the monks go to swim. In Bhagsu we stumbled upon a pretty crazy temple under construction - they were sculpting some fantastic animals and figures out of cement as they went, and didn't seem to mind our crawling around looking at things. Along the way Peter bought us samples of several kinds of Tibetan food available from the street vendors – momos, mutton sausage, and yummy gelatinous cubes (something to do with cauliflower juice?) called lafing. On the way to the monastery to watch the afternoon debates it started raining fairly hard, and by the time we got there it appeared the session had been called off. We walked around through the temples, and went up to the gate of the Dalai Lama’s home. Peter was part of the DL’s personal guard for 6 months, so knew quite a bit about what went on behind the gates. We walked the very nice paved trail that circles the hill with the monastery and residence. All along the trail are stones carved with Tibetan writing, mostly mantras, that people have had made to leave behind, along with a great number of prayer flags. At the end of the walk there is another temple, with a long series of small prayer wheels, and two of the very large ones. Later we hung out on the balcony of the guesthouse Rob, Pepe and Tyson were staying at, which overlooked some trees and had some interesting bird life – we even saw an owl just after dusk.

Trevor and I opted to get up early the next morning to go hang out at the monastery. We had some nice peaceful time in the courtyard after listening to the monks chanting in a lower room, then walked the prayer circuit again to watch the sun come up over the mountains. At the prayer wheels there was a kind of prayer service going on, with monks leading lay people in chanting. We listening for a while before meeting up with the rest of the guys at their guesthouse for some very good breakfast – I had a fruit pancake that was fantastic. Peter took us to the Norbulingka Institute, half an hour’s taxi ride away. The Institute is set in beautiful gardens, and has a very peaceful feel. Here artisans are trained in traditional Tibetan crafts, and you can watch the artists at work (though we didn’t have time to watch much). There is an impressive museum of dolls dressed to show Tibetan dress from different regions, for different occasions, and during different eras. We spent some time sitting in the temple, an inviting place with padded mats to encourage visitors to sit for a while. Our afternoon was given over to shopping and coffee-drinking, before we met up with Peter again. Trevor, Peter and I had to shift our rooms to another guesthouse (they had too many reservations), and Pepe, Tyson, and Rob moved to a fancier place that had been unavailable the previous two nights. Peter was trying to find his Auntie’s house in the tangle of homes and guesthouses on the hillside, and Trevor wanted to go play cards with the guys, so I opted to follow Peter on the search. After a few dead-end attempts, we finally came across the right place after following a monkey down the hillside, and spent an hour or so visiting with his family. Well, Peter visited in Tibetan. I mostly entertained the kids by letting them take pictures with my digital camera. They were totally indifferent to the end result (picture) – they just liked the flash. His Auntie had actually been very sick, and there was a monk at the house doing a healing ceremony that involved molding little vessels out of flour paste, then adding various grains, rice beer, and lamp oil. Then he went into the prayer room and chanted for a while, occasionally using a bell. Peter’s cousin’s son was apparently working at the family business, so we were sent with an escort to go say hello to him. Down the hill, back through the maze, and down a street we hadn’t been on, we walked up some stairs to what looked like a nightclub. Inside an entirely Tibetan bunch of young guys were playing snooker on three tables and drinking beer. The kitchen brought out an unexpected treat – beef momos. It was a very hush-hush thing. We met up with the gents for dinner, then they went back to their cards and Peter and I made an early night of it.

Our final morning in Dharamsala, we all met up for breakfast and wished Tyson well on his journey home, then hit the road. While waiting for everyone to finish checking out, I wandered into a little stationary store that had an excellent selection of the hand-made paper books and stationary that are made in the area to help support incoming Tibetan refugees. The prices were reasonable and the woman was really helpful, so I walked off with quite a full bag of stuff to send home for the store. The drive home was long, but again beautiful. The route was slightly different, taking us along the Sainj River and more stunning scenery. We were extremely happy to finally get out of the car.

Meanwhile, Back at the Ranch...

Pepe, Trevor, and Rob headed back up toward Beas Kund a few days ago. The walk in was extremely wet, and Pepe came straight back, figuring that he and all his gear were soaked and he wouldn’t have had a pleasant night. He was going to come out the next day after skiing anyway, so he didn’t miss much. After the initial bad weather, it’s been beautiful the last 2 days, so hopefully they’re getting good turns. Frank went up to join them yesterday. The rest of the crew here has been reading and sunning, with trips into town for variation. Yesterday the whole lot of us went down and met up with Drew and Steph from Stevens Pass (WA) for Korean food at the place Peter took us to a while back. Memory did not deceive – the sushi was just as good as remembered, and they whipped up some kind of spicey Korean iced tea that was fantastic. Today Pepe got on the bus back to Delhi, after a nice month-long visit. The weather didn’t always cooperate for him, but he’s a man who appreciates the mountains as they are, and seems to have had a really great time here.

Many apologies again for the extra-long post… now that everyone’s going home, our sightseeing pace should slow again!

Labels: Dharamsala, India, Kullu Valley, Manali, ski touring, Solang