A high wind in the night, then stillness. Sleep came with difficulty in the mountain air. Then a bright morning with no wind; warm in the sun. The valley opened out to a Scottish highland glen, with its boulders, its rushing river, its small hydroelectric scheme with insulated pipe. A majestic stupa crowned a rise.
Kyanjin Gompa had undergone a building boom of new lodges for the trekkers, with some having three levels, many in the bright colours Nepalis like, all jumbled together and overshadowing their neighbours. But the crowding was due to a prohibition on building on the grazing land, so it had logic. The trekkers congregated at the one lodge that was open. Sunlight warmed the common area.
In the afternoon we climbed up on the approach to Tsergo Ri, a time-honoured ritual of acclimatisation: go high, sleep low. Even another 300m up from Kyanjin Gompa would help the lungs manage the real climb the following day. The path was clear. Bishnu kept going up just a bit more, to make sure the effort didn’t stop short of the required pain. From this vantage point, you could see the familiar peaks and glaciers from a different perspective, including the twice-ascended Kyanjin Ri.
We met a well-muffled Greek trekker who had reached the summit. He reported that after 2.00 pm the wind got up. He congratulated me on the mere presence of such an aged spirit at this height. We eschewed a handshake for the protocol of elbow bumps. We fed the local crows biscuits. The one which pecked aggressively also had the biggest head … the male of the species?
Two high passes cross from Helambu to Langtang, the Ganja La and Tilman’s pass. We thought we could see two entrances to the Ganja La on the opposite slopes of the valley. These passes with their steep snowfields at the top are only for autumn, perhaps springtime. It is a bit late in life for more adventurous trekking, so these peaks and passes have to be considered carefully, but for the embodied spirit a dream still beckons.