(Continued from the previous posting)
There is no point trying to sleep late in a trekking lodge. Shortly before dawn a cacophony of coughing, throat clearing, door slamming, tooth brushing, foot stomping, and various other sounds of unknown origin rose to a crescendo that no human being could sleep through. One German fellow in Syafru Bensi obviously had his fill of this early morning noise and started singing in the hallway, “I can talk louder than you can. I can talk louder than youuuuuuu!!!” We usually rose by 5 am, taking turns using my L. L. Bean cap with LCD lights in the brim to find our way to the toilet or to rummage around for clothing in our packs.
While our group breakfasted on tea and the English tea biscuits we had brought along, the proprieter’s mountain pony came to the front door for his breakfast treat: something in a bucket from the kitchen. The horses are short and stout with large chests adapted to the thin air. This particular one had burs in its mane but was exceptionally friendly. Later in the day while walking up a steep part of the trail, a man came by leading a horse down the trail. It was spooked just a little when it saw us and bumped against Bonnie and Janardan, nearly stepping on them. The only damage was a slight smear of horse doo on Bonnie’s arm as its hindquarters rubbed against her. A small price to pay for such an experience!
The next stretch of the
trail to Ghora Tabela was also steep, but a night’s rest had given new life to my legs and sore shoulders. There was a distinct change in vegetation to more of an open forest of oak, fir and beech, as opposed to the more lush plant communities at the lower elevations. It reminded me of hiking in the Sierra Mountains of California. But the forest abruptly ended as we approached Ghora Tabela, turning into a more scrubby pasture although the shaded hillside to the east was covered with what appeared to be pine. By this time we had reached an elevation of 9,000 feet and the air was getting noticeably thinner.
After resting for half an hour we rented one room at the lodge for Ma’am who would be staying there while we would be continuing on later to Langtang Village and Kyanjin. We tossed most of our gear into the room and then proceeded to collect some plants around Ghora Tabela. Ma’am pointed out two species right away: Dipsacus mitis (wild radish) and Rumex nepalensis (dock). The aerial parts of both had already dried out, but the
roots were fully developed and fleshy, so the students went to work with their digging tools until they recovered 5-10 pounds of each. Rumex has very strong astringent properties and a paste of its roots can be applied to swollen gums. It is also used a general pain relieving tonic. Dipsacus has 
fairly strong contraceptive properties and can be used as an analgesic and diuretic. Next they collected leaves from a small, bushy rhododendron (Rhododendron lepidotum), the extracts of which are thought to “purify” the blood. These plant materials will be washed and dried back at the KU campus, crushed to powder and then extracted with various solvents to pull out any active ingredients for biological and chemical analysis.
We had a quick lunch, said farewell to Ma’am and took off up the trail toward Langtang Village and Kyanjin. Our original goal was to reach Kyanjin before dark, but it wasn’t looking very good since we didn’t leave Ghora Tabela until 1:30. Janardan thought it was a 2 hour trek to Langtang and then another 3 hours to Kyanjin, but he wanted to press on anyway. The purpose of going there was to see the morning sun hit the mountain peaks. As we passed by lodges, the proprieters would ask us to stay for a meal or to spend the night. When Janardan told them we had to press on to Kyanjin, they all looked horrified that we would even attempt it so late in the day. A page out of a guidebook we saw cautioned not to go beyond Langtang Village from Rimche in one day, otherwise you’d be flirting with altitude sickness from a lack of acclimatization. But damn them all, we were going to Kyanjin!!
By the time we got to
Langtang Village we had a clear view of one of the mountain peaks to the north, probably Langtang II at approximately 20,000 ft. To the south was the very tip of another, maybe Naya Kanga or Ponggen Dokpu at 17,000-18,000 feet. As we got to the north end of the village, I saw the next hill on the trail and immediately lost my will to continue. I was really tired, and the altitude (now over 10,000 feet) was taking its toll. I suggested we stop for a drink at the last lodge. A Fanta buoyed my spirits and the 15 minute rest allowed a little oxygen to seep into my blood again. I convinced myself that there was no point going halfway around the world to see the Himalayas and then throw in the towel when I 
was just a few hours away from them. So, despite my aching feet, legs and shoulders I continued on. But it was already 4 pm and sundown would be no later than 5:30. The temperature was falling rapidly and would soon be near freezing.
After half an hour, Janardan pointed out a dip between two hills in the distance where one could barely make out a building. “That’s Kyanjin,” he said. OK, I said to myself. If I can see it, I can get to it. But from that point, it was all uphill with no relief. Our steps grew shorter as did our breathing. By 4:30 the sun had gone behind a tall western hill but still gave us some twilight until 5:30. Just when we thought we’d be enveloped
in darkness, a full moon peaked out from behind the mountain in front of us. Between the moonlight and the light from my baseball cap we could see well enough not to fall on the trail. I was too tired to talk, but I realized that I’d probably never see the sight before me ever again – a full moon over the Himalayas. Much to her chagrin, I made Bonnie stop so that I could pull the camera out of her bag and take a photo.
At that point, Janardan announced that we’d be there within 20 minutes. I can do that, I told myself. Had he said it would take 45 minutes (the amount of time it actually took), I probably would have curled up in a fetal position and died. Janardan showed the mark of a true leader by knowing what to say to keep his troops on the march. He saw that I was flagging and offered to carry my bag the rest of the way. As much as it hurt my male ego I let him take it, because the strap had almost eaten its way into the back of my shoulder blade.
Through the darkness I could see the ridge of the hill we were ascending not too far in the distance. I would walk that far and if Kyanjin was not within a stone’s throw from there, I decided that I would sit down and wait for a helicopter (or a dogsled, or a fireman, or the end of the world). By the time we reached the top my breathing had quickened to two breaths for every one step, and each step seemed to take forever. But there it was, less than 50 meters away: Kyanjin. And there were the boys, waiting for us in front of the first lodge. Prajwal’s first question as I staggered down the last slope wasn’t “How are you feeling?” but “Do you have any biscuits left?” The poor fellow was starving to death. I wanted to laugh but had to conserve what little energy I had left just to make it into the lodge and up the stairs to my room.
There is no point trying to sleep late in a trekking lodge. Shortly before dawn a cacophony of coughing, throat clearing, door slamming, tooth brushing, foot stomping, and various other sounds of unknown origin rose to a crescendo that no human being could sleep through. One German fellow in Syafru Bensi obviously had his fill of this early morning noise and started singing in the hallway, “I can talk louder than you can. I can talk louder than youuuuuuu!!!” We usually rose by 5 am, taking turns using my L. L. Bean cap with LCD lights in the brim to find our way to the toilet or to rummage around for clothing in our packs.
While our group breakfasted on tea and the English tea biscuits we had brought along, the proprieter’s mountain pony came to the front door for his breakfast treat: something in a bucket from the kitchen. The horses are short and stout with large chests adapted to the thin air. This particular one had burs in its mane but was exceptionally friendly. Later in the day while walking up a steep part of the trail, a man came by leading a horse down the trail. It was spooked just a little when it saw us and bumped against Bonnie and Janardan, nearly stepping on them. The only damage was a slight smear of horse doo on Bonnie’s arm as its hindquarters rubbed against her. A small price to pay for such an experience!
The next stretch of the
trail to Ghora Tabela was also steep, but a night’s rest had given new life to my legs and sore shoulders. There was a distinct change in vegetation to more of an open forest of oak, fir and beech, as opposed to the more lush plant communities at the lower elevations. It reminded me of hiking in the Sierra Mountains of California. But the forest abruptly ended as we approached Ghora Tabela, turning into a more scrubby pasture although the shaded hillside to the east was covered with what appeared to be pine. By this time we had reached an elevation of 9,000 feet and the air was getting noticeably thinner.After resting for half an hour we rented one room at the lodge for Ma’am who would be staying there while we would be continuing on later to Langtang Village and Kyanjin. We tossed most of our gear into the room and then proceeded to collect some plants around Ghora Tabela. Ma’am pointed out two species right away: Dipsacus mitis (wild radish) and Rumex nepalensis (dock). The aerial parts of both had already dried out, but the
roots were fully developed and fleshy, so the students went to work with their digging tools until they recovered 5-10 pounds of each. Rumex has very strong astringent properties and a paste of its roots can be applied to swollen gums. It is also used a general pain relieving tonic. Dipsacus has 
fairly strong contraceptive properties and can be used as an analgesic and diuretic. Next they collected leaves from a small, bushy rhododendron (Rhododendron lepidotum), the extracts of which are thought to “purify” the blood. These plant materials will be washed and dried back at the KU campus, crushed to powder and then extracted with various solvents to pull out any active ingredients for biological and chemical analysis.
We had a quick lunch, said farewell to Ma’am and took off up the trail toward Langtang Village and Kyanjin. Our original goal was to reach Kyanjin before dark, but it wasn’t looking very good since we didn’t leave Ghora Tabela until 1:30. Janardan thought it was a 2 hour trek to Langtang and then another 3 hours to Kyanjin, but he wanted to press on anyway. The purpose of going there was to see the morning sun hit the mountain peaks. As we passed by lodges, the proprieters would ask us to stay for a meal or to spend the night. When Janardan told them we had to press on to Kyanjin, they all looked horrified that we would even attempt it so late in the day. A page out of a guidebook we saw cautioned not to go beyond Langtang Village from Rimche in one day, otherwise you’d be flirting with altitude sickness from a lack of acclimatization. But damn them all, we were going to Kyanjin!!
By the time we got to
Langtang Village we had a clear view of one of the mountain peaks to the north, probably Langtang II at approximately 20,000 ft. To the south was the very tip of another, maybe Naya Kanga or Ponggen Dokpu at 17,000-18,000 feet. As we got to the north end of the village, I saw the next hill on the trail and immediately lost my will to continue. I was really tired, and the altitude (now over 10,000 feet) was taking its toll. I suggested we stop for a drink at the last lodge. A Fanta buoyed my spirits and the 15 minute rest allowed a little oxygen to seep into my blood again. I convinced myself that there was no point going halfway around the world to see the Himalayas and then throw in the towel when I 
was just a few hours away from them. So, despite my aching feet, legs and shoulders I continued on. But it was already 4 pm and sundown would be no later than 5:30. The temperature was falling rapidly and would soon be near freezing.After half an hour, Janardan pointed out a dip between two hills in the distance where one could barely make out a building. “That’s Kyanjin,” he said. OK, I said to myself. If I can see it, I can get to it. But from that point, it was all uphill with no relief. Our steps grew shorter as did our breathing. By 4:30 the sun had gone behind a tall western hill but still gave us some twilight until 5:30. Just when we thought we’d be enveloped
in darkness, a full moon peaked out from behind the mountain in front of us. Between the moonlight and the light from my baseball cap we could see well enough not to fall on the trail. I was too tired to talk, but I realized that I’d probably never see the sight before me ever again – a full moon over the Himalayas. Much to her chagrin, I made Bonnie stop so that I could pull the camera out of her bag and take a photo.At that point, Janardan announced that we’d be there within 20 minutes. I can do that, I told myself. Had he said it would take 45 minutes (the amount of time it actually took), I probably would have curled up in a fetal position and died. Janardan showed the mark of a true leader by knowing what to say to keep his troops on the march. He saw that I was flagging and offered to carry my bag the rest of the way. As much as it hurt my male ego I let him take it, because the strap had almost eaten its way into the back of my shoulder blade.
Through the darkness I could see the ridge of the hill we were ascending not too far in the distance. I would walk that far and if Kyanjin was not within a stone’s throw from there, I decided that I would sit down and wait for a helicopter (or a dogsled, or a fireman, or the end of the world). By the time we reached the top my breathing had quickened to two breaths for every one step, and each step seemed to take forever. But there it was, less than 50 meters away: Kyanjin. And there were the boys, waiting for us in front of the first lodge. Prajwal’s first question as I staggered down the last slope wasn’t “How are you feeling?” but “Do you have any biscuits left?” The poor fellow was starving to death. I wanted to laugh but had to conserve what little energy I had left just to make it into the lodge and up the stairs to my room.
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