A moment between Tatopani to Ghorepani
trekked up steps and at the top would be a grade and at the
top of that a turn with more steps and it was up and up again
and up some more and then up. In
the shade of the trees it was cool but as the day progressed,
it was t-shirt warm in the sun.
It was the kind
of trekking where you have to find your own sustainable pace
and stay with it, and not worry about falling behind or getting
ahead of the others (except when you get to a fork in the
trail and don't know which way to go so you have to wait for
I used my poles
again, and a very deliberate rhythm of feet and poles and
breathing, step after step after step, hour upon hour. The
rhythm turned into a little chant in my head: Tatopani, Ghorepani,
thik cha, thik cha. (Thik cha means I am fine, or something
I started to compose a poem
about the stones of Nepal.
The stones of Nepal
Silent and strong
Bend down before you
To support you and lift you up...
There are so many stones that
have been laid by human hands. They always seem to be there
when you need them. The streets of the villages are paved
with them. When the trail gets too steep, it becomes stone
steps instead of a grade.
And on this day we climbed
hundreds of them.
of this day
The next day
travelogue is part of the subside