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November 1, 2001

Nepal: Hiking from near Kathmandu to Everest Base Camp

Nepal:  A daily trekking diary

Hiking in the Himalayas for a month while trekking on a trail with a total elevation change of 61,000 feet was a challenge that tested of the skills we’d learned in all our previous travels.  The task seemed relatively easy by just looking at a map of our route; approximately 125 miles of ‘teahouse trekking’ – sleeping & eating at lodges established along the trail – could hardly be considered hard core. Yet this journey to Everest Base Camp held special significance for us. It was the culmination of our 14-month trip, our last destination before returning home.

Breathing in the crisp dry air of Kathmandu, Nepal’s 4,000-foot high lively capital city, we relished a lively atmosphere that is completely different from the tropical climates in SE Asia we’d become familiar with during the past six months. Tucked away in the crooked narrow streets in the heart of the bustling tourist center of Thamal – a jumble of cashmere pashmina shops, outdoor gear stores, bakeries, and Tibetan Thangka art galleries – is the historic Katmandu Guest House, our home for our first three nights. It was here, while running errands to prepare for our trek, where we were introduced into Nepalese culture by a handful of local characters.

Sunrise over Kantega & Thamsurku peaks, Himalayas near Everest Base Camp, Khumbu region, Nepal

Our first encounter was with Raaj, owner of Tea World; he welcomed us into his shop for an impromptu tea tasting & kept us there for hours with his charismatic demeanor & contagious laugh. Coincidentally he’s also a trekking guide, who provided us with many handy tips and even his lucky walking stick to assist us on our way. On Halloween we were invited to Raaj’s home where his talented daughter entertained us by singing songs and reciting poetry while we warmed up for a mysterious night on the town. A local rock band – friends of Raaj’s – was scheduled for a special holiday performance & we were invited.  Raaj’s beautiful Indian wife and her girlfriends dressed up in evening wear while Dale & I along with two of Raaj’s friends joked about our ‘budget travelers’ costumes. Since Raaj was vague about our destination and casual in both his jeans and demeanor, we were very surprised when our taxi pulled up in front of the five star Hyatt Regency. Luckily it didn’t really matter how we were dressed since the recently opened hotel only had an occupancy rate of 5% and the fancy bar was nearly empty.   We all had a memorable night dancing to the classic rock music & enjoyed our private show.

On our second night in Katmandu the owners of the Lotus Gallery invited us to their home for dinner – a special Indian variation of Nepal’s national dish, Dal Baat. Sitting on the floor in their tiny but comfortable apartment eating with our fingers, we considered ourselves lucky to have met such welcoming hosts who allowed us to glimpse a taste of their everyday life. The next day after shopping for Christmas presents and souvenirs, we prepared to leave the comforts of our haven in Kathmandu and set off for our 30-day trek.

Day 1: Jiri

Of the many trekking options in Nepal, we chose to do the ‘expedition route’ – the original passage early expeditions walked to Mt. Everest. Since all since vehicle roads into the mountains end in Jiri (a day’s journey from Katmandu), this trail begins in the foothills of the Himalayas 100 miles away from Everest Base Camp. In these relative lowlands (5,000 feet to 11,000 feet) we discovered it’s still possible to witness the traditional life of subsistence agriculture that has remained virtually unchanged for the past several centuries. Now most trekkers heading to Mt. Everest bypass the lowland region, flying in & out of Lukla (elevation 11,000 feet) to shorten their time on the trail and skip the difficult valley traverses. Additionally most westerners want to avoid a grueling daylong local bus ride from Kathmandu to Jiri, the only transportation option other than hiring an expensive private vehicle & guide.

Inadvertently we chose a non-express local bus, turning the normal 8-10 hour trip into 13 long teeth-clenching hours. Every 15 minutes our bus stopped for some reason: for a smoke break, snacks, the toilet, to pick up more passengers, and for various unknown reasons. We thought the bus was full after two dozen army boys, en-route from the Katmandu to Jiri military base, crammed themselves and their many bags on board. However we were amazed that another 30 or so passengers were able to fit on our retired school bus by sitting on a skinny wooden bench placed in the isle and on a rack fastened to the roof of the bus.

PHOTO:  crammed bus (scan)

By the time we reached Jiri at 10 p.m. we didn’t care where we slept – we were just happy to have finally arrived.  We ended up staying at one of the last available rooms – for good reason – since all better lodges were already full.  All night the cockroaches and mice scurried above our bed; thankfully it was so dark we couldn’t see what other creatures lurked nearby and so tired we didn’t have the energy to fight them off.  With this inauspicious beginning we hoped our journey wouldn’t become progressively more difficult.  From day one we knew we had started an adventure unlike any we had experienced before.

Day 2: Shivalaya

After sleeping in until 9 a.m. (a rare luxury on the trail) we decided to take it easy for our second day of walking. Since we’ve been backpacking for over a year now some people may assume that it wasn’t difficult for us to carry our own packs vs. hiring a porter to carry everything for us. Although we significantly reduced our normal loads by scrutinizing the necessity of every single item, our packs were still not light (mine was 27 lbs., Dale’s was 38 lbs.). We quickly discovered there’s a big difference between walking with our packs all day on steep trails in high elevation and any backpacking we’d done previously.

Shivalaya, the town where we stopped on our second night, was a vast improvement over Jiri. Several lodges (Nepal’s rustic version of a Bed & Breakfast) were scattered around the center of this small settlement and we were happy to find a nice Nepalese home where we were the only guests. By walking at a slower pace and covering less daily distance than the average trekker we started a trend of staying in towns that weren’t popular overnight stops. Whenever possible we also always chose to stay with a Sherpa family, the ethnic group well known for their mountaineering skills and hospitality. That evening we chatted with the owner about village life and the jackals howling in the distance while his wife cooked up a tasty dinner and their children peered at us curiously.

Day 3: Deorali

On our third day of walking we experienced our first difficult valley traverse. We climbed nearly 3,000 feet in elevation to the 8,875-foot Deorali Pass. Cool clouds were rolling up the valley during our trek so we decided to stop at a hilltop lodge to warm up with some hot milk tea & homemade apple pie.  Since the view and food were so good we decided to stay here for the night. Surprisingly this Sherpas house had electricity (many in the lowlands didn’t) and we sat huddled with the family around the wood fired stove in the green tinted glow of their television. A Nepal version of star search was playing; in an intriguing twist the aspiring stars sang traditional Nepal songs.

PHOTOs:  Deorali lodge with Dale in window, Andrea with lodge owners

The next morning was crystal clear and at sunrise we saw our first glimpse of high snow covered peaks around the surrounding hills.

Day 4: Kenja

We spent all of today descending the 3,000 feet we had gained yesterday. At first the trail was surprisingly steep, then suddenly it disappeared completely into a dry streambed. We scrambled along rocks hoping we were continuing in the right direction:  When the telltale mule dung soon appeared – a common occurrence along the main route – we knew we were on the right track. Luckily this was the sunny, dry season in Nepal; we couldn’t imagine navigating this section of the trail during the monsoons.

Many terraced farms growing rice, fruit, and vegetables filled the next valley. Colorful clumps of cornhusks hung drying from nearly every rooftop, huge red chili peppers spread in baskets to bake in the sun, and women sat along the trail beating wheat stalks by hand. Rice fields were being cultivated by hand or buffalo-powered plows, creating interesting geometric patterns from our vantage point above. The whole family joined in the harvest and even the cows munched and chickens pecked at the rice scraps.

Harvesting rice field in Nepal lowlands on trail to Everest Base camp

Unfortunately this charming scenery was occasionally marred by disturbing encounters with village children. One girl, about 7 years old, approached us insistently with a phrase we would soon become accustomed to hearing: “Hello, pen?!” She was surprisingly fluent in select English phrases – “Hello, watch?” – “Hello bracelet?” – “Hello, necklace?” – “Hello photo?” – “Hello sweets?” and could recite the alphabet and count to at least 25 (we stopped her there). To the unsuspecting tourist her antics may have been cute and clever: To us they posed a difficult moral dilemma; every phrase asked us to give her some item we carried – jewelry, food, or money. We decided against the easy solution, which would have been to have given into one of her demands.  Our reaction may seem cold in light of the incredible poverty of rural Nepal and the relative monetary wealth that western money represents (the annual family per capita income in Nepal is only $200 U.S.). Travelers before us undoubtedly began this “hello, pen?!” trend which taught kids that they were poor because they didn’t have things common in ‘developed’ countries. Well-meaning trekkers provided candy without considering the consequences; without access to dentists, toothbrushes, or toothpaste kids began getting cavities. Most children in these lowland areas didn’t have easy access to schools, know how to write, or even have paper, so we wondered what they would do with a pen if we gave them one. We had a funny picture in our minds of kids visualizing trekkers as walking pen-dispensing machines. Most trekkers travel with a porter carrying their supplies so they would have plenty of space to hold dozens of pens. Perhaps the kids think the primary reason trekkers visit their village is to dispense pens – it’s probably inconceivable to them why anyone walk so many miles to just look at the scenery. In some villages we saw a donation box to help build a school or for the community, which was a much better alternative than encouraging begging for unnecessary items.

That afternoon we reached the bottom of the valley and stopped at a town named Kenja, which is nearly 1,000 feet lower than Jiri. It was warm at this low elevation so we decided to try our first wood-fired ‘hot’ shower. The bathroom was made with a stone floor and walls in a small separate building from the lodge.  At first the water trickling from the showerhead was scorching hot, then pleasantly warm for about a minute, after which it rapidly became frigid. Needless to say we learned that ‘hot shower’ is interpreted in many ways and to shower quickly and efficiently.

Day 5: Dagchu

Today was our most strenuous section of hiking so far; we climbed over the 11,581 foot Lamjura Pass, which is 6,201 feet above our starting point in Kenja. In order to break up this long ascent we stopped overnight midway up the pass. I found the steep trail was bearable if I walked at a slow constant pace, but unfortunately it was difficult to maintain this rhythm when mule and porter trains constantly passed us then stopped ahead to rest in the middle of the trail. Contrary to what we were accustomed to, the trail etiquette in Nepal did not encourage politeness. Like a lion that asserts dominance over its home territory, the porters and mules always barged ahead forcing us to step to the side of the narrow trail. Irritated, I longed for the day I would become fit enough to continue on my way uninterrupted. The higher we hiked the more relentless the trail became – never once did its steep grade flatten.  After a difficult 5-hour crawl up 4,000 feet we stopped at a small settlement, Dagchu (9,350 feet). Our accommodation choices were limited so we found ourselves stuck at one of the most basic ‘huts’ we’d encountered. The usual cool afternoon fog had traveled up the valley so we huddled inside the kitchen squinting in the dim, smoky light since there was no electricity and few windows. This was the first night we didn’t stay with a Sherpa family, but the young Nepalese couple was friendly and interesting. It was cool at this elevation – I bundled up in my sleeping bag in the kitchen/ dining room to keep warm since their old, small wood stove didn’t produce much heat. We wondered how anyone could see by the dim candlelight to prepare dinner, so we ordered a hearty and simple to prepare dish of Dal Baat without meat.

Near 7 p.m. two Nepalese joined us to warm up with hot milk tea and food. At first we thought they may be Nepal soldiers – they looked like the army boys we met on our bus ride to Jiri. Dale asked to see their guns and was amazed to discover that they were heavy wooden musket-style rifles. Dale asked, “How long does it take to reload?” and he replied, “About 3 minutes”.  “Boy, you better be a good shot then”, Dale joked and we all laughed. We began to become curious why they were traveling at night and when we inquired “Where are you headed?’ their answers were evasive. Though reserved they were polite towards us and quite articulate in English for young men (probably about 18-21 years old). We left them in the lodge talking with the owners to turn in early to our room in the lodge next door. Later we realized that they must be Maoists, members of an organization that has been active in Nepal the past decade trying to overthrow corrupt government officials. They are known as ‘Robin Hood’ crusaders – they travel at night through rural areas to bomb police and government buildings in protest and to steal their money to redistribute to the poor. Tourists are strictly off limits to the Maoists since tourism is one of the primary sources of income for villages along the trail. When telling other Nepalese about our encounter, most were amazed that we actually met Maoists and happy that we ran into no trouble.

Day 6 & 7: Junebesi

On our second day of climbing over the difficult Lamjura La Pass we encountered another obstacle– I woke with a queasy stomach so we left without breakfast. We only made it about 45 minutes before I had to rush into the bush along the trail and experienced my first bout with travelers diarrhea. After another few hours of struggling and sudden stops, we finally made it to the top. About this time it began to hail and the trail seemed to traverse along an exposed ridge forever. Hail turned to sleet then a heavy downpour as we descended down the other side of the pass into the next valley. We were quite relieved when we finally reached Junebesi 2,700 feet below. Resolved to take a rest day tomorrow, we searched for a good place to relax and were delighted to find the Apple Orchard Guest House, a beautiful new lodge with a polished wooden interior and a comfy warm lounge room. We thoroughly enjoyed nice hot showers in the insulated bathroom inside the main lodge (a nice change) and the best fresh-baked apple pie we’d tasted so far. This lodge was the first we’d encountered that was busy with other trekkers, but we enjoyed their company.

The next morning we ate a late breakfast outside on a sunny patio that overlooked the apple orchard. After most guests had left for the day we sat chatting with the owner who has traveled to America several times. Dale asked his wife about the fancy fur hats he had seen in photographs and before we knew it she brought down not only their fur hats but also their entire wedding clothes for us to try on! The whole family got a laugh seeing us dressed up in the special ceremonial outfits and we all had fun with the photo shoot.

PHOTO:  us with Nepalese in ceremonial outfits

That afternoon we were happy to walk without packs and hiked up to the Thubten Choling monastery a few miles away. An unusual harmony of “clink, clink, clink” sounds could be heard as we approached. We soon discovered stonemason monks created this noise by chiseling stones into perfect square blocks by hand with intense concentration:  When we came into view they suddenly stopped to stare at us.  This monastery was founded by Tibetan Buddhists who escaped across the Himalayan Mountains when the Chinese invaded, and a Tibetan monk guided us through the interior of the old but well-preserved buildings. Ornate Thongkas – spiritual paintings with a patterned silk fabric border – and other religious artifacts were displayed around the room, which we enjoyed until the monk tried to sell us a beaded necklace at an outrageous price. Somewhat jaded we declined the necklace but left the expected donation and returned to the comforts of Junebesi for our second night.

Day 8: Ringmo

The next section of the trail was especially easy and the rest day in Junebesi had restored our bodies. Walking along a smooth nearly flat path gave us the opportunity to gawk at the scenery and talk to each other – something I rarely had the breath to do. At noon we rounded a corner and were rewarded with our first view of Mt. Everest; it’s top peeked above among the many surrounding 25,000-foot plus snowcapped mountains. These giants were impressive but distant – we still had a long way to go to reach base camp. After a few pictures we leisurely ate a lunch of milk tea and yak cheese (a local specialty) outside on the patio of the Everest View Lodge. Further along the tail a little boy walked with us for a while, spontaneously smiling and handing me freshly picked flowers. Another few hours of walking brought us to the town of Ringmo, and since the next major village with lodges was several hours away we decided to stop early for the day. “Oh why can’t everyday of trekking be as pleasant this?” we asked each other.

Nepali painting mani wall on trail to Everest Camp

Day 9: Kharikhola

Yesterday we met a British newlywed couple traveling with a porter and a British trekker they teamed up with in Jiri – today we decided to walk with them since they stayed at the same lodge & were heading to the same town.  However I was frustrated trying to keep up with trekkers carrying little more than a small daypack. I thought how easy it would be if we just piled our packs on top of their porter’s load. But then we’d lose the satisfaction of knowing we could complete this trek on our own, and we didn’t have enough extra cash to pay for a porter anyway. Somehow we managed to keep up with the British trio while walking down 6,000 feet to cross a river at the bottom of the valley then continuing up the other side for another 2,000 feet. After eight hours of continuous trekking we reached Kharikhola exhausted and sweaty; we quickly cooled off after a lukewarm shower in the stone hut next to our lodge. The five of us were the only guests in the cute Sherpa lodge and we all turned in early.  Regardless how tired we were it was still strange to got to bed at 7 p.m.!

Day 10: Chutok La Pass

During breakfast we witnessed a startling spectacle; suddenly the British newlywed began moaning and clutching his stomach complaining of sharp pains. His discomfort mysteriously continued to intensify until he rushed to the bathroom & passed a kidney stone! The nearest airport was at Lukla – a long day hike away – and the nearest doctor was even further; in his condition it would have been impossible for him to ride a horse to these locations anyway. We gave him some of our strong prescription painkillers (left over from Dale’s last surgery), which helped him a bit. His wife had passed kidney stones herself last year so at least they knew what to expect . . . he just had to drink lots of water and let nature take its course. It was a very inconvenient place to fall seriously ill – we knocked on wood to remain healthy.

We pushed hard for another long day in order to remain on schedule for a few rest/ acclimatization days in Namche. On this portion of the trail our guidebook warned of “demoralizing false summits”; indeed every time we reached a ridge top thinking we’d made it to the end of the climb yet another taller hill loomed ahead. Finally at 5 p.m. we stopped at the top of Chutok La Pass (9,121 feet) at a small house perched alone on a steep cliff side.
Even though most of the lodges we’d stayed in so far had been quite rustic (loose stone exteriors with little insulation, flimsy plywood floors and walls, thin foam mattresses on top of a hard wood block bed frame, with an outhouse bathroom), I wouldn’t have traded any western comfort for the incredible vistas.   Lying in bed at the cliff-side lodge I could peer out the window inches from my head down 5,000 feet into the valley below and 10,000 feet above to the beginning of the Himalayan Mountains. Most mornings I awoke at sunrise to watch the first rays of golden light touch the surrounding peaks then creep slowly down to the foothills. It’s hard to picture a more inspiring sight.

Day 11: Phakding

This morning we woke to the clanging of bells from water buffalos lumbering unsteadily down the treacherous rocky trail below. Soon after beginning the same descent ourselves, we caught up with this group and discovered what happens to the unlucky water buffalo that stumbles off the steep trail. The porters had already ‘sacrificed’ the poor beast and were busy skinning and butchering it’s remains to sell at the weekend Namche market. We later saw a porter carrying huge cuts of meat that overflowed his basket –the exposed meat was baking in the intense high altitude sun and the stench attracted dozens of flies. We vowed to be vegetarians while in Nepal.

PHOTOs:  skinning water buffalo, porter carrying meat (scan)

When we reached the junction where our trail from Jiri merged with the trail from Lukla, everything abruptly changed. We were startled to see freshly groomed tourists in their pressed & matching clothes who had just stepped off the airplane and were strolling along the trail with a line of porters following. Huge package tours clogged our path ahead, their clients panting unaccustomed to the thin high altitude air they had been dropped into. Until this point in our trek, everyone on the trail always greeted each other with a friendly “namaste” as they passed; now the whole atmosphere was different and most people were either too rushed or preoccupied to even make eye contact. When we sat down for lunch we were in for another shock – prices for everything had tripled. Together we had easily survived on less than $15 U.S. dollars a day beforehand – most rooms only cost 20 to 50 U.S. cents per night and meals rarely cost more than a couple of dollars. Now a can of Coca Cola was $1.75 U.S. dollars!

Phakding, halfway between Lukla and Namche, is the common first night stop for tour groups that have just flown in from Kathmandu. We also stopped here because we were tired and Raaj had recommended a lodge, which was nice though crowded. We took a cool shower and tried to warn a group of Japanese women that the ‘hot’ shower would be a different experience than they were expecting. They proceeded anyway and reappeared soon shivering. We watched as the women drank huge pots of hot tea to warm up, dreading the inevitable result: they spent most of the night thumping in their new hiking boots down the hallway between their rooms and the communal toilet, continuously waking us up. Whenever possible afterwards we searched for the least crowded accommodation.

Hiking on trail to Everest Base camp with Ama Dablam Mountain in background, Khumbu region, Nepal

Day 12 & 13: Namche

Namche – a city in the middle of the Himalayan oasis. We were excited to be approaching it’s bakeries and the 15-minute scorching hot showers other trekkers raved about. Just one thing stood in our way – a long climb of several thousand feet. The final hill took longer than expected since I was running on ‘empty’ – the hard boiled eggs we’d ordered at breakfast & carried with us for lunch turned out to be barely cooked thus inedible. A chocolate bar and thoughts of hot fresh cinnamon rolls were just enough inspiration to get me to the top.

The leader of a trekking company we met earlier had recommended a nice hotel so we headed there in hopes of finding a quiet spot to rest for a few days. We mentioned this contact and it’s a good thing we did since all the budget rooms were full. So as to not disappoint their friend, they gave us a $15 U.S. dollar deluxe room for the same price as their budget room – $3 U.S. dollars. Our room was carpeted, the beds had new thick mattresses and warm blankets, and an attached bathroom with a western toilet, sink, & hot shower – oh the luxuries were appreciated! Best of all the place was super quiet -since it was expensive it was not popular with most trekkers. The first thing we did was wash our filthy socks in the hot water from the sink. Then we pigged out on freshly baked goods – our favorites were the cinnamon-apple strudel and peanut pecan cookies. At our hotel we ate pizza for dinner and at breakfast we feasted on canned orange juice, coffee, hash browns, scrambled eggs, and toast. We washed our remaining dirty clothes in the sink the next day & still had enough hot water left for a long shower. For most of our second day in Namche we just sat and baked in the sun alongside our clothes. The only walking we did was to the nearby stores to rent down jackets, buy thick yak wool socks for lounging around the drafty lodges, and to stock up on a hefty supply of snickers bars for the toughest section of the trail ahead.

Day 14: Tengboche

We left Namche late in the morning; our next stop was only a half-day away so there was no need to rush. In fact we could see the Tengboche monastery – our next destination – almost immediately after leaving Namche, so we assumed it would be an easy hike. As a bird flies the distance was short, but another grueling valley & river had to be crossed before reaching Tengnoche, 12,664 feet. The monastery & lodges were perched on top of a ridge with spectacular mountain views on either side. Unfortunately everyone likes to stay here to admire these views so area was packed with tents from tour groups and lodges were nearly full – we got the last available room. From our bed we could look out the window at an unobstructed view of the Himalayan Mountains; the next morning I awoke just in time to see the sunlight touch the highest peak. I rushed outside to take photos of the scenery & was rewarded with another delight – the chants of monks echoing down from an open window of the monastery. Even Dale roused out of bed at this early hour to watch the monks clang cymbals and blow long low-resonating horns, their ritual morning wake up call performed minutes after sunrise to announce the beginning of their dawn prayer session. The Tengboche Monastery was built as a secret place of solitude hidden in the mountains; although now it is touristy it’s still possible to experience its peace if you’re willing to make an effort to escape the crowds.

Andrea at Tengboche lodge overlooking Himalayas

Tangboche Monesetary in Khumbu region of Himalayas, Nepal

Day 15: Pangboche

After enjoying watching & listening to the monks perform their morning music at the monastery we slowly warmed up with milk tea & a hearty breakfast. The remainder of our ascent to Everest Base Camp would be at a slower pace, so there was no need to rush off in the freezing early morning temperatures. In order to avoid getting a potentially fatal case of altitude sickness, once above 12,000 feet we never ascended to sleep at an altitude higher than 1500 feet from where we were the night before. Half-day hikes were a welcome relief from the long 8-hour days we’d spent on the trail most days the previous week.

We reached Pangboche, 13,123 feet, by noon – in time to enjoy a snack in our lodge’s large warm sunroom overlooking Ama Dablam, a peak many say is the most gracefully shaped of all the Himalayas. This village is the highest village in Nepal that has been traditionally occupied year round – other settlements further up the trail were previous summer yak herding stations that were only recently converted into lodges for tourists heading to Mt. Everest.

The owners of Sherpa Village Resort, our well-appointed lodge, told us that we had arrived in Pangboche on a special day. The lama from Tengboche monastery had traveled to their monastery, the oldest in the Khumbu region, in order to perform blessings. Since the owners were headed to the monastery themselves we were invited to come along to witness the spectacle. We struggled to keep up with the fast pace of our fit Sherpa hosts; Nepalese people always take the most direct route possible, which in this case was a steep climb of a couple hundred feet straight up the hillside. When we arrived, gasping for breath in the thin air, it seemed that the entire village was stuffed into a small courtyard at the Pangboche monastery. More Buddhists stood on the balconies above dressed in their ceremonial clothes, overflowing the path leading to the lama. One by one everyone lined up to give their donation to the lama, and were in turn blessed when he placed a white ceremonial scarf around their necks. The atmosphere was charged with a festive air and we were impressed that in less than an hour several hundred villagers managed to squeeze their way through the passageways of the old building to reach the lama without creating chaos.

Photo:  Pangboche blessing ceremony

Late that evening (9 p.m. was past our normal Nepal bedtime) we found ourselves caught up in stories we milked from Ang Sherpa, the owner of our lodge. We began our conversation with questions about the scenic photos on the wall and Ang revealed an impressive history of mountaineering feats that had made him somewhat famous. In 1991 he was part of the only all Sherpa ascent of Mt. Everest. He was one of three Sherpas who made it to the top – it was aparticularly difficult year to summit due to the deep snow and uncooperative weather. National Geographic covered the story in its March 1992 edition, titled “Guardians of the Himalayas” and featured a photo with Ang at the top of Mt. Everest. Humble and unassuming, Ang’s character exemplified the spirit of the Sherpa people we had traveled so far to encounter.

Photos:  Ang & wife holding national geographic magazine

Day 16 & 17: Dingboche

A pleasant walk along a roaring river brought us to Dingboche, 14,271 feet, in just a few hours. We were lucky to get the last room in the Snow Lion Lodge, a popular spot many Sherpas had recommended. It’s a good thing I encouraged Dale to race ahead up a hill (I was always slow climbing) to pass a group of people heading to the same place.

We spent two nights in this village in order to properly acclimatize.  On our ‘rest’ day we decided to climb the nearby Nangkartshang Peak described by our guidebook as a “half day excursion that offers some of the best views in the region”. Little did we know that the summit was more than a 3,000-foot climb straight up a slippery slope. About 500 feet short of the summit we gave up climbing since the afternoon fog had already rolled up from the valley below and would soon engulf us. We enjoyed a peanut butter & jelly sandwich and a view that made it seem like we were on top of the world – only the peaks of the highest surrounding mountains poked up above the clouds.

Photos:  Dale eating PB&J sandwich near top of Nangkartshang Peak, view of snow lion lodge from stupa

Luckily we had washed our socks, underwear, faces, and hair in a bucket of hot water from the kitchen earlier that day. We didn’t realize how long it would be before we would have this opportunity again . . .

Day 18: Thukla

We decided to stop next in the tiny and rarely visited settlement of Thukla (15,092 feet). There was only one other guests at the Yak Hotel – an interesting American named Doogle. At the age of 30 Doogle left a high paying consulting job in the corporate world , sold his house, car, and most of his belongings, and took off to travel around the world for a decade. He was in his seventh year of traveling when we met him and had many great stories to share. Our host, Tenzing Sherpa, had even more fascinating adventures. He has summitted 10 of the world’s 14 highest mountains (all over 25,000 feet) including K2, Mt. McKinley, Ama Dablam (his favorite) and Everest. However he recently gave up mountaineering after climbing with Rob Hall on his ill-fated 1996 expedition (both guides & several clients died when they were caught in a storm on shortly after summitting). For obvious reasons he doesn’t like to talk about this Everest tragedy, but he did share a few details of previous Everest summits. We were amazed to find out that when Tenzig was near the summit, he boiled hot water and poured it immediately into his insulated water bottle then placed the bottle next to his body wrapped up in minus 30 degree Fahrenheit sleeping bag, it froze solid within just 2 hours. He had to wake up to boil more water several times each night. It wasn’t until later on during our trek, when we read John Krakauer’s book “Into Thin Air” about the 1996 Everest disaster, that we discovered that Tenzing fell into a crevasse near Everest Base Camp and was pulled up several hundred feet with a broken leg. This accident probably saved his life since he was unable to complete the expedition.

One of the most amazing aspects about traveling in Nepal was the people we encountered leading everyday lives doing what most would consider extraordinary feats. The average porter, considered in Nepal as one of the lowest caste groups, carried incredible loads over immense distances of rough high altitude terrain using dokos (traditional v shaped wooden baskets supported only by a trumpline head strap) and wearing flip flop shoes. Most of their loads weighed in excess of 200 lbs and consisted of many bulky items such as full sized folding tables and chairs, sacks of rice, and large flat pieces of plywood that caught the wind. I wanted Dale to try carrying a porter’s load for a photo, but he was afraid that he’d strain his neck – even the smallest load carried by porters as young as 12 weighed more than 50 lbs. Most porters were shy & didn’t like getting their photograph taken, though we were able to capture a few photos unnoticed soon after leaving Thukla.

Three porters carry heavy loads, typically 100 lbs +

Day 19: Lobuch

Lobuche (16,207 feet) is considered a ‘hell hole’ by most trekkers; it is cramped, filthy with garbage and smelly outhouses, and has no clean water supply. Many trekkers get sick here due to these unsanitary conditions – indeed my stomach was acting up again from bad bacteria in something I ate. To get away from the hordes of trekkers crammed in the few lodges, we slept in a tent – it was a memorable experience & probably the highest altitude camping we’ll ever do. We were provided with thick mattresses and blankets and we stayed warm by snuggling deep in our down sleeping bags, heads covered by our hoods, until ‘nature’s call’ woke us.

Easily relieving ‘nature’s call’ is something we’d always taken for granted – in Nepal it’s altogether a different experience. First of all, in high altitudes it’s essential to drink large quantities of water to avoid dehydration. Secondly, to combat altitude sickness your kidneys process liquids faster, which result in increased urination. Our guidebook said it was a good sign to pee once during the night, and in fact we often had go more often. One British trekker joked with us that he wanted to wear diapers at night to avoid the necessity of leaving the warmth of his sleeping bag to venture outside in the subzero temperatures. Everyone dreads the midnight trip to the outside toilet – it’s a hassle getting dressed, putting on your hiking boots, searching for a flashlight & toilet paper, then squatting in the outhouse trying not to step on puddles of frozen urine near the edges of the hole for fear that you’ll slip in. It’s an inner struggle of denial – “Maybe the urge to pee will pass if I can fall asleep”, you think, but it never does.

The next day I still didn’t feel well but decided to push on – we didn’t want to spend any more time in Lobuche than absolutely necessary.

Day 20: Gorak Shep

After a tiring scramble along a glacier’s moraine trail (the undulating gravel & boulder surface made walking difficult) we arrived at Nepal’s highest altitude settlement – Gorak Shep – at nearly 17,000 feet. The facilities here were much better than in Lobuche, and the Himalayan Lodge we stayed at was nice. It was Dale’s Mom’s birthday, and we were worried about the difficulties she has suffered from chemotherapy to battle cancer.  So after dropping off our packs at the lodge we continued up to the summit of Kala Pattar to place a prayer flag in her honor. Climbing to the highest point of Kala Pattar takes most people one and a half to two hours; it took us nearly two and a half hours and I literally crawled on my hands & knees over huge precarious boulders for the final 200 yards. We made it to the top, 18,300 feet, just in time to witness one of the most spectacular sunsets we’ve ever seen. Mt. Everest, at 29,000 feet, is the highest peak in the world thus is the last point on earth to catch sunrays. It’s nearly snowless face turned a deep shade of red just as the sun dipped below the horizon.  After sunset all the snow-capped peaks glowed soft pastel colors and a quarter moon illuminated our way back down to Gorak Shep.

Surprisingly most trekkers only pass through Gorak Shep on their way to & from Kala Pattar, so our sunset view would be impossible for them to witness. For the first time we felt the effects of altitude sickness – we both got splitting headaches & became dizzy after descending Kala Pattar. These symptoms, compounded by my weakness from my recent bout of travelers diarrhea, left me helpless to do much else other than go to bed early for an restless night attempting to sleep.

Alpenglow over Mt. Everest seen from Kala Patar overlooking Everest Base Camp

Sunset over Nuptse Mountain, Himalayas near Everest Base Camp, Khumbu region, Nepal

Day 21: Gorak Shep, aka Day 2 of our Base camp

In the morning I was distressed to find that my condition had worsened – I scratched my cornea overnight when trying to remove an uncomfortable contact. I wore my airplane sleep mask over both eyes since sunlight was unbearable, and spent all day in the lodge resting, sleeping, and eating Tibetan bread spread thick with honey. At 17,000 feet your body uses considerably more energy to simply breathe. Out guidebook states, “Every trekker will experience some or all of the following normal symptoms at altitudes higher than 14,000 feet: periods of sleeplessness, the need for more sleep than normal – often 10 hours or more, occasional loss of appetite, vivid wild dreams, unexpected momentary loss of breath, periodic breathing that will occasionally wake you while sleeping, the need to catch your breath frequently while trekking, runny nose, and last but not least increased urination.”  We took turns experiencing all these symptoms.

Day 22: aka Day 3 of our Gorak Shep Base Camp

This morning I felt slightly better, although my eye was still tender & vision blurry, so we decided on just walking a short distance to see the Everest memorials. Our search for a peaceful place to put a prayer flag for my Uncle who had passed away recently and for a family friend fighting cancer ended here.  Buddhists believe that by hanging prayer flags – pieces of multi-colored cloth with religious inscriptions – high in the mountains your prayers will be carried towards heaven each time the wind flaps the flags.

Inside typical tea house lodge, Gorak Shep, near Everest Base Camp

Day 23: aka Day 4 of our Gorak Shep Base Camp

I tried wearing my right contact again last night – a big mistake. I discovered that everything takes longer to heal at high altitudes, including my cornea, so we were forced to stay inside the lodge for yet another day. I was beginning to relate to the stories I’d heard of expedition members being stuck at base camp for days on end due to bad weather or a physical ailment. At least our base camp was relatively comfortable with many friendly trekkers. One American couple was celebrating their 60th birthdays on this trek, proving to us that adventure travel doesn’t have to end when you get older. The most entertaining people to watch were those venturing away from tropical climates for the first time; groups from Singapore and Barbados were especially shocked by the cold weather. By far the most captivating character we met was the ‘flag man’, a Bulgarian who has walked across all six continents. Recently he walked from the southern tip of India all the way across the Nepal border & up to Gorak Shep, where we met him; during this time he never once took any other form of transportation. An environmentalist & advocate of world peace, he walked with a backpack supporting a full sized Bulgarian peace flag to promote these causes in the far corners of the earth. We met more long-term travelers while trekking in Nepal than anywhere else on our journey; in fact to many we were the short-term travelers.

Day 24: aka Day 5 of our Gorak Shep Base Camp

Today we both felt good enough for the 5 hour round trip walk to the ‘real’ Everest Base Camp – elevation 17,500 feet – a few miles away. This trek was different from any walking we’d done previously  – we gingerly stepped on the glacier’s surface covering of loose gravel & rocks which were coated in ice. There were no expeditions camped here when we arrived (the season to summit Everest is March-May or Sept-Oct) but we were able to figure out its approximate location by spotting a few remaining tent tarps. Sitting on the glacier enjoying a snickers bar we saw several avalanches & could actually hear the groans & creaks from the glacier slowly moving beneath us. Our days of waiting finally had paid off – the weather was relatively mild & wind was calm. Most people who trek to the top of Kala Pattar don’t take the extra time to stay & visit Everest Base Camp, which is a shame. For us it was the culmination of this trek, and in fact the last new destination we’d reach before returning home from our 14-month journey.

Everest Base Camp

Day 25: aka Day 6 of our Gorak Shep Base Camp

Feeling stronger, we decided to head up to the top of Kala Pattar once again. This time we left earlier – at 12 pm – and made it to the top in one and a half hours. We still had to pause every so often to catch our breath, but after spending a week at 17,000 feet we were finally fully acclimatized. We spent several hours at the top in quiet solitude, taking photos and enjoying the majestic view before heading back down.

Day 26: aka Day 7 at our Gorak Shep Base Camp

I think we were some of the longest staying guests that season at the Himalayan Lodge and we were sad to say goodbye. The Sherpa owner, who we called Didi  (meaning sister in Nepalese), had taken care of us & cooked many surprising meals including pizza in her dirt floor kitchen.  Heading down was much easier; we made it to the Snow Lion Lodge in Dingboche in just 5 hours – it had taken us 3 days to cover this same distance going up.

Dale with tea house owner Didi and her yak, Gorak Shep near Everest Base Camp

Day 27: Tengboche

We didn’t see the Buddhists morning prayer session at the monestary when we stayed in Tengboche on the way up to Kala Pattar, so on our second visit to this village I was determined witness this ritual.  We rose at 6 am, dressed in our warmest clothes, and entered the monastery.  We were the only westerners; we sat huddled on a thin mat on the wood floor shivering in the unheated prayer room as we watched the monks chanting and playing ceremonial instruments.  The Buddhist emphasis on meditation was effective; though most monks were only wrapped in a thin cloth red robe & some were even barefoot, they seemed impervious to the cold.

Day 28, 29, & 30: Namche

It had been two weeks since we washed our hair in the hot water bucket at Dingboche, and 16 days since we had a full shower in Namche. How could we bear to go so long without bathing? At 17,000 feet not only did most water quickly freeze in the unheated lodges but even if we could have managed to heat enough water to clean off the dust from the trail we certainly didn’t want to undress from our many layers of warm clothing. Dale had even gone so far as to grow a beard – he looked like a mountain man. Back at the same lodge we stayed at in Namche before, we took glorious hot showers & couldn’t remember a time when getting clean felt so good! We spent three days in Namche doing nothing other than gorging on bakery goodies, sitting in the sun reading, and just relaxing.

Day 31: Bemkar

On our last night on the trail before reaching our departure point in the city of Lukla, we chose to stay overnight at the infrequently explored town of Bemkar.  The peak of the trekking season was now over and we were the only guests at this friendly Sherpa lodge.  For dinner we ate the best Sherpa stew we’d encountered and enjoyed the tranquility of the location.

PHOTO:  lodge at Bemkar

Day 32: Lukla

After a month of trekking in Nepal, I finally found walking anything other than a steep hill effortless. A strange sensation overcame me while walking on this last section of trail.  Maybe my perceptions were altered because I was coming down with a cold; my head felt oddly separate from my body.  Each stride I took fell into a rhythm – indeed I found it easier to keep moving than to stop, my legs walked without any conscious thought.

I was reminded of a few books I had read previously.  In a story from the Travelers Tale series for Nepal called “The art of walking” the author writes, “In such a demanding environment, Nepalis early on acquire a graceful, efficient, and mindful walking style” and continues by describing a Nepali porter who “. . . covered ground like flowing water.  He eased effortlessness from step to step, moving as smoothly as if on an escalator”.   Peter Mathiessen, in his book “The Snow Leopard”, reinforces this description of the Nepalis grace as an “eerie trance state . . .(Nepalis) glide along with uncanny swiftness and certainty.”

Day 33: Katmandu

We flew out of Lukla on one of the most incredible runways we’d ever seen. It was short & sloped steeply; on takeoff we became airborne just as the runway abruptly dropped out from underneath us into a deep valley.   In forty-five minutes we covered the same distance it had taken us 12 days to walk.  Looking down at the deep gorges and valleys we’d traversed on the way up we were impressed with what we had accomplished.  When we returned to Katmandu on December 5th we noticed that winter had even reached the lower elevations – it was noticeably cooler than before and far less crowded.

Trekking in Nepal was one of our more difficult challenges of our travels, made all the more worthwhile by our efforts to make it on our own.  In the cool mountain air and inspiring vistas we were able to clear our heads to reflect on our journey.  In a short story titled “The awkward question”,  Paul Thoreau asks other adventurers why they feel compelled to complete arduous endeavors. One answer best sums up our Nepal exerience:

“ . . . such an effort was as much esthetic as athletic.  And that the greatest travel always contains within it seeds of a spiritual quest, or else what’s the point?”

Dale & I at the end of our trek - day 10 without a shower!

Filed Under: Adventure Sports, Travel Tagged With: adventure travel, backpackers, hiking, Himalayas, long term travel, mountaineering, Nepal, trekking, vagabonding

August 12, 2001

Thailand: How we became rock climbing instructors & website designers . . .

written by Dale Johnson

I clearly remember my first time rock climbing: Unlike Andrea, whom is extremely comfortable with heights, I was frozen with fear. Unable to move up or down I clung desperately to the rock face only ten feet above the ground. With legs shaking and arm strength rapidly diminishing, I fell. At the instant I felt the rope hold me steady I learned that top rope climbing was extremely safe, and regained my composure to continue climbing to the top. Now six years later Andrea and I are working in Thailand on Koh Phi Phi Don Island as rock climbing guides/ instructors. The entire employment situation developed rather unexpectedly. After climbing daily with Suchard at Phi Phi Climbers we stumbled into our new jobs. It’s surprising how quickly it all happened, but then again it’s Thailand and we learned to expect the unexpected.

View from top of rock climbing route on Tonsai Tower of Phi Phi Island

Dangling from the end of my rope, Andrea on the ground belaying, we put on our daily masquerade of being the “experts”. We presented detailed instructions and demonstrations, stressing safety, climbing lingo, equipment usage, proper techniques and safety again…I’m big on safety and reiterating it seems to calm nervous students slightly. Daily we answered the same basic questions: To our favorite, “How long have been rock climbing?” jokingly we would answer “ Counting today?” and then start counting on our fingers and laugh. We would lead climb putting up top ropes and then spend the afternoon instructing and offering words of encouragement when needed. The true reward for our efforts was the comments of gratitude from our students – we certainly didn’t do it for the income considering our best day earned us 1500 baht (about $30 U.S). Escaping the mosquito’s swarming out of the jungle we would regroup at the shop and enjoy ice-cold beers and conversations with our exhausted students often moving to our favorite restaurants, Kozmics or Phimai’s for dinner. We met people from around the world, which wouldn’t have happened without the common thread of rock climbing that united us.

With rock climbing as our day jobs, Andrea still found time in the late evenings to design a website. Suchard, the owner of Phi Phi Climbers, always has ideas spinning around inside his head. He had desired a Website and our photography skills (digital camera); Andrea’s computer skills and my design encouragement provided what Suchard needed.

Suchard freeclimbing easy beach crags, Phi Phi Island

Considering neither of us had much more than minimal exposure with website design we were thankful for the patient help and troubleshooting  by the cyber café’s owner, Wichien.  Fortunately Andrea was proficient with PhotoShop and knew how to edit the photos for downloading. Slowly the web page began to develop in spite of computer crashes, power outages, bad copies of pirated software, and vicious mosquitoes that fed on us nightly. Finally after many weeks of work the website went live only needing some fine-tuning. We did receive some compensation for our efforts – a couple hand-made chalk bags and free Internet usage for updating our own web page. It may not be the fanciest website around, but under the circumstances Andrea’s hard work and my occasional help produced a Website we’re proud of.

Andrea climbing Tonsai Tower, Phi Phi Island

Our employment transformed a three day planned stop on Phi Phi into two months of island living and provided us with countless memories. We hadn’t grasped the extent of our new friendships until the morning of our departure, when we were accompanied to the ferry by Thai friends whom had woken early to say goodbye. As the boat departed, Andrea waved goodbye & unsuccessfully tried to hold back crocodile tears. Thailand and its friendly residents allowed us to become “locals” and establish a place we could always return to and be welcomed with exuberant hospitality.

Reflections on the Terrorist Attacks – by Andrea Johnson

At first it was hard to believe that the footage of the World Trade Center collapsing was footage from the news instead of scenes from the typical action-thriller movie that are shown at every bar, restaurant and hotel on Phi Phi Island. But on the evening of September 11th, 2001, in Southern Thailand (it was morning in America), everyone stopped what they were doing and watched the news in amazement.

Dale and I happened to walk into a cyber-cafe shortly after the W.T.C. was hit; the local news was playing live footage from NYC and our Thai friends tried to explain what had happened by translating the commentary into English. Of course initially nothing made sense to us. “A plane hit the W.T.C? What do you mean it wasn’t an accident? Four planes were hijacked? Terrorists are attacking America?!” we questioned. Only after seeing footage of the plane striking the second tower, an image that is now burned into all our minds, did we begin to understand the magnitude of the situation.

My shock turned into panic when the Thais began to ask me if my family was ok. I suddenly remembered that my parents were scheduled to fly to Toronto that week, and I couldn’t recall what date their flight was or if it had a stopover in NYC. Who would have thought the tables would be turned, that my parents – who worry about something happening to us while traveling abroad – could in fact be the ones in danger?  Frantically I emailed my parent’s business, and thankfully Lisa, their office manager, replied almost immediately that my parents were ok.  A few hours later, after watching the English version of CNN, I was able to talk to my Mom on our cell phone. I don’t know what I would have done without the modern conveniences of email, cell phone, and 24/7 CNN.

In the aftermath of this disaster, family and friends have been emailing us asking many difficult questions. “What is it like experiencing these events abroad – are we safe?” is the most common inquiry. Like everyone at home, we’ve been glued to the television for several hours each day. We’ve been uplifted by stories of heroism and devastated by pictures of destruction.  We saw footage from countries around the world playing the National Anthem and observing a moment of silence, which brought tears to our eyes. The President’s address, Tribute to Heroes music telethon, and memorial service at Yankee Stadium has been deeply moving for us as Americans, but also for the local Thai Buddhists and Muslims, and fellow Jewish and Hindu travelers that have been watching TV alongside us.   Being abroad during the terrorist attacks has exposed us to a wider scope of their effects. People of different nationalities and backgrounds have been united instead of divided by this tragedy in a common wish for peace. Everyone we’ve been in contact with has been compassionate and thoughtful towards us and we feel as safe – if not safer – here than at home.

The last time we heard shocking news about America during our travels abroad was after the November 2000 Presidential election. “You have no President!” the French in Bora Bora mocked, translating a French Polynesian news report. We were embarrassed with this news, just as we were embarrassed by the stereotypes of the “Ugly American” – loud, insensitive, impatient, and overly materialistic. At that time we were glad to be away from home and to have escaped the ‘rat race’ of our past hectic lives. Now more than ever we miss those we love at home, are generally proud of our fellow Americans reaction to the attacks, and are happy to be from a country that encourages and defends freedom.

So will we change our plans to continue traveling and return home as friends and family have asked? Only if it’s necessary. Not long ago, in June 2001, we left the Philippines after a Muslim terrorist group kidnapped three Americans and 17 Filipinos from a ritzy resort at a nearby island. Even though we doubted a similar terrorist attack at our popular budget backpacker island (not as much potential for ransom $), we felt no need to take unnecessary risks.

It’s interesting how people from countries that are constantly exposed to strife react to this situation in their daily lives. In a Manila cyber-café we watched speechless as five teenagers screamed and shouted in glee while playing an interactive video game fighting terrorists. Most Israeli travelers we’ve met (both men and women) have just finished their three year mandatory military service and will continue to serve in the military for one month a year until the age of 45. Until recently, our generation of Americans had been sheltered from widespread acts of terrorism hitting home. Sadly, the reality is that there is nowhere in the world completely safe from terrorism.

The most profoundly simple yet complex question we are often asked is “Why do you travel?” During the course of our journey the meaning and purpose of our traveling has continued to evolve. Admittedly we aren’t on a global crusade to save the environment or to educate and improve the lives of the disadvantaged, although we admire the Peace Corp volunteers & others we’ve met who work hard for these causes. Our reasons are more simple – to escape our daily routines at home and try a different way of life, to spend more quality time together, and to hopefully become better individuals from our experiences.  When we told others about our plans to travel for 14 months, many people told us “You’re living our dream”. Older generations said they wished that they had the same opportunities to travel when they were young and admired our resolve to turn our dream into reality.

As many travel writers, such as Rick Steves, advocate “Traveling expands horizons and deepens understanding of other cultures…if more people traveled the world would be a better place”. Certainly we’ve had the chance to see many different cultures including a wide variety of Muslim people in Indonesia and Malaysia. Beforehand, our only exposure to the Islamic religion was from reading select passages of strict doctrine and seeing footage of extremist Muslim groups on the news; now we know that Muslims are as diverse a group as Christians.

Probably the most surprising thing we’ve encountered during our travels has been the random acts of kindness from strangers. We began our trip wary of trusting anyone, suspicious that those who were kind were just trying to take advantage of us somehow. On the contrary, we’ve been invited as welcome guests into the homes of people who had recently been strangers and discovered that travel in general seems to bring out the best in everyone.

While we understand why many Americans have recently cancelled their plans to travel on vacation, and that many people worldwide are afraid to fly on airplanes, it’s unfortunate that the travel industry has to suffer the consequences of the terrorist attacks. Our thoughts are often with those we love and we are concerned not only for our own safety but for the safety of those at home as well; however, we have no plans to return immediately home.

In the book Travelers’ Tales Thailand, author Steven Newman, who was attacked and nearly killed by bandits during his solo walk around the world, best sums up our feeling in the following passage:

“But I know that quitting anything because of fear somehow did not seem ‘right’.  To give up now would have been proof of how terrible the world is to those so eager to condemn it.”.

Slowly moving on – by Dale Johnson

We couldn’t give up both Phi Phi Island and rock climbing cold turkey, so accompanied by climbing friends – fearless Kevin (he’ll climb anything), smart-ass Nick (with a quick tongue to tease), and Suchard (the climbing cat) we headed to the nearby Railey Beach. This was our second visit to this world class climbing mecca; at the beginning of our Thailand trip we climbed some of the easier routes with a local guide. Now with Suchard’s connections we were led to some hidden spots and also tried more difficult ‘must do’ routes.

Railey Beach is isolated on a tiny peninsula; due to it’s surrounding limestone cliffs it seems more like an island since there’s no visible connection to the mainland. Known throughout the climbing community as ‘the place’ to test and sometimes show off your climbing prowess, people from around the world descend on Railey and often stay for months relaxing, eating, drinking, and climbing.

The monsoon rains still plagued us and it was not surprising that the jungle trail to a ‘secret spot’ was ankle deep in slippery, gooey mud. Due to Suchard’s lead climbing skills we managed to climb a few challenging routes before we decided to slide back down the trail to climb dryer routes protected by overhangs on the beach. Exploring Railey’s innumerable climbing areas, our days passed quickly and all to soon it was time to leave for Bangkok. On the longtail boat ride back to Krabi we looked back at the beautifully sculpted walls of the limestone cliffs disappearing into the distance and wondered when we would return. After a sad farewell to Suchard at the dock, we boarded an overnight bus to the big city.

Even though we began climbing back home we will always consider Railey & Phi Phi Island as the places we truly learned the art of climbing.  Our favorite climbing routes & the faces of friends we connected with in Southern Thailand will remain indelibly etched in our memories.

Sensory overload

During the last several months we had become accustomed to living on an island with no cars, so we weren’t looking forward to returning to any city, much less the capital city of Thailand – Bangkok. It’s notorious reputation created the expectation of a chaotic urban jungle perpetually clogged with 10 million cars/ scooters/ tuk tuk’s bellowing thick clouds of pollution that seep into your sweat drenched skin as you dodge the traffic, touts expounding the latest gem scam, and sex shows at every corner. It’s true we were shocked by our encounters on Bangkok’s busy streets – just not how we expected.

We knew we were in a different kind of city when we ran into an elephant on the sidewalk. Turning the corner, suddenly we found ourselves staring straight up at a full grown specimen that stood patiently & occasionally prodded an unsuspecting Farang (Westerner) with its trunk. The elephant had been trained well by its owner to catch the attention of the passerby while the owner pleaded for a 20 baht donation to hand feed peanuts. We found ourselves startled again when we heard a loud rumbling noise rapidly approach us from behind; we turned around & darted out of the way just as a full sized motorcycle rode down the sidewalk. Apparently anything goes in this bustling, colorful city & we never had a dull moment.

Our first challenge in the big city was getting around cheaply & quickly from one errand to the next. The new, clean, & efficient sky-train & the old charming express taxi boats that chugged along the main river  solved most of our transportation needs & allowed us to see the city from two unique perspectives.  We found good deals on plane tickets & shopped at length to find a reputable tailor to custom make a Thai silk dress & suit. Once our ‘work’ was done we enjoyed visiting the many Wats (Buddhist temples) scattered around the city. The architecture is beautifully rendered & the Buddha statues are intricately carved & decorated with pure gold. To ease our sore muscles after a hard day of walking we enjoyed Thai massages at Wat Pho, Thailand’s oldest massage school. The cheap, tasty food stalls serving fresh veggies & cooked-on-the-spot dishes like pad Thai for 20 Baht (50 cents) were also a welcome relief – we regularly stopped for snacks.  To sample fine dining we dressed up (Dale had to wear his zippered hiking pants & boots to fit the dress code) & sampled desert at the five star Oriental hotel, sitting outside on the terrace overlooking the river.

Despite all of the cities pleasures, our busy schedules took its toll on me & I came down with the flu. Luckily our hotel, The Atlanta, has a peaceful garden setting & pool to lounge-  in fact it was the first pool in Bangkok to be built for a hotel (old & charismatic). Once recovered we booked train tickets for Chiang Mai, Thailand’s second largest city & capital of northern Thailand, no longer reluctant to explore city life & its many surprises.

Wats, elephants, jungle safari, monk chat

Historic Chang Mai, the capital of Northern Thailand, has held onto traditional Thai culture despite it’s popularity as a tourist destination.  It is surrounded by a moat built to protect it from enemies; now the only invasion threatening the town is marauding westerners looking for the Starbucks.   Hidden among the guesthouses, restaurants, outside markets, massage and cooking schools is some of Thailand’s oldest Wats, testament to the areas strong Buddhist influences.

Squeezing every bit of power from our 100cc motor scooter we putted up the twisty mountain road. Our destination, a Buddhist temple perched high in the hills overlooking Chang Mai and the surrounding farm land. Climbing the steps flanked by two colorful cascading dragons hundreds of feet long we admired the craftsmanship and detail required to produce such a beautiful structure. The temple was awash in glittering gold, multicolored mosaics, wonderfully painted wood, and fragrant flowers deposited at the feet of innumerable Budhas. After spinning the prayer wheels, ringing the temple bells, taking photos, and making donations we relaxed in the shade to absorb the enlightening environment.

Careening back down the mountain our day of Wats continued. Surveying our sketchy map and relying on intuition we managed to uncover some secluded Wats and eventually ended up at the areas largest. Our timely arrival coincided with the opportunity to visit with young studying monks. ‘Monk Chat’ allows westerners to meet monks and spend two hours conversing about subjects or questions that in our case spontaneously developed. Three hours quickly passed; we enjoyed laughing, learning and discovering that most monks welcome westerners interest in Buddhism and these encounters allows them to practice their conversational English. ‘Monk Chat’ was undoubtedly better than any tour or organized Wat visit, and it was free!

Two of Thailand’s most famous tourist temptations are Thai food and Thai massage. Our decision to bring them both home with us involved spending a day learning Thai cooking while Andrea immersed in a three-day intensive massage course. Thai cooking is relatively easy – you just need to learn the proper ingredients in the correct proportions. I was able to prepare authentic Thai delicacies once the secrets were revealed. Andrea’s course involved homework; Thai message requires proper technique and knowledge of pressure points so I reluctantly volunteered myself as the practice ‘dummy’. I personally think I came out far ahead on this deal.

The rumor about Chang Mai’s night market being one of Thailand’s biggest and best had Andrea salivating and me dreading the prospect of unnecessary shopping.  We walked to the Night Market past the heavily guarded American Embassy, fresh fruit vendors, and fragrant fresh flower stalls. Getting sucked into the sea of shoppers flowing through the closed streets we eventually surfaced, discovering “The Peak” climbing wall. Situated among bars and restaurants the ninety-foot artificial wall stood inviting us to give it a try. Meeting Josh, the Peak’s manager (fellow American), and discussing our Phi Phi Don Island climbing experience quickly allowed us to bypass the regular customer check in and easily try out our skills inn this new environment.   Wall climbing proved to be different than actual rock climbing on natural walls. We struggled at first and with Josh’s helpful hints we managed to climb fairly well on a few of the difficult routes. While resting Josh revealed that he and friends were developing a local crag named “Crazy Horse”.

Back on the scooter the following day, loaded with climbing gear, we headed forty kilometers into the countryside in search of a rock face resembling a horse’s head. ”You can’t miss it” Josh told us, and sure enough we easily found it. Going off-road we slipped, skidded, and snaked up a washed out dirt road, parking just below the crag. The ‘secret spot’ was ours alone; we climbed some bolted routes and explored a large cave before returning to Chang Mai to thank Josh for revealing the Crazy Horse to us.

Our final few days in Chang Mai were spent on a “jungle safari” with an organized tour company. Unfortunately our record of trekking in the rain was to remain unbroken. Our safari began with a couple hours of riding elephants through the forest and across rivers, then a half-day hike to a hill tribe village. Disappointedly this village could also be reached by dirt road – so much for getting away. We slept in a grass hut with fellow trekkers; luckily my forethought saved us from the feeding mosquitoes – I had brought our mozie net.  After a western style breakfast of eggs, toast and coffee Andrea and I split from the group and walked out to conclude or “adventure” with bamboo rafting. We came close to canceling this part of our trek since it was still raining, but upon our guides insistence we agreed to go. It definitely was not white water kayaking, but we did have fun and were blessed with sunshine. I think Andrea’s highlight to the entire jungle safari was first discovering she had a leech attached to her leg and second ly bargaining for local handicrafts with a hill tribe women: Both the leech and the hill tribe women were successful in sucking something from Andrea, blood and cash! Sitting in the back of the covered pickup truck, our return taxi, we looked forward to cleaning up, another visit to the Peak climbing wall ,and chuckling about our “jungle adventure”. We enjoyed a different taste of Thailand in Chang Mai, and were glad we had time to travel through Thailand’s different regions & varied cultures.  Undoubtedly Thailand is a place we’ll return to enjoy.

A sad after note to this post – the tsunami of Jan 2005 nearly devastated the tiny island of Koh Phi Phi, as evidenced by the before and after photos.  Rebuilding has continued on a steady pace, and a google search of Phi Phi Island is the best way to find recent updates.  Dale & I were able to fundraise $1,500 towards the reconstruction efforts for our island contacts, but unfortunately have fallen out of touch of many of our local friends who moved shortly afterwards.

Effects of the 2005 tsunami on Koh Phi Phi

Filed Under: Adventure Sports, Travel Tagged With: adventure travel, backpackers, long term travel, Phi Phi Island, rock climbing, Thailand, vagabonding

July 1, 2001

Bali

Krazy Kuta

“TRANSPORT? MASSAGE? BRAID YOUR HAIR? SARONG? TOE RING? PINEAPPLE? HASHISH?”

The endless barrage of hawkers accosted us while we walked down the street attempting to dodge them, puddles, and the screeching motor scooters that zoomed by perilously close. Welcome to Indonesia and it’s most popular tourist destination, Kuta Beach.

Travelers have a love/hate relationship with this city of sin. Backpacker facilities are plentiful and cheap – rooms average only US$4.50 a night, tasty wood oven pizzas and a large Bintang beer cost just a buck each. The rupee has remained devalued since the Asian economic crisis – the average Indonesian worker earns only US$25 a month. It’s a place that encourages excesses; buying too much from the hundreds of surf, handicraft, and silver shops that line every street; eating and partying ’til sunrise at the packed restaurants, bars, and clubs; surfing too long at Kuta’s easily accessible consistent beach breaks that are polluted with sewage that eventually makes everyone sick.

Yet in the middle of this chaos, pieces of traditional Balinese culture still survive. Every morning Hindus place offering baskets of food, incense, and flowers at the entrance to their shops, homes, and in shrines that are a familiar sight at every corner. Women still walk along traffic-clogged streets carrying baskets of fruit on their heads to bring to the market or a ceremony. Even in the courtyard of our hotel we enjoyed an interesting contrast watching the owners perform an elaborate anniversary ceremony while backpackers continued to wander through in their swimsuits carrying surfboards.

An essential art Indonesians have mastered is bargaining. Westerners are constantly targeted and usually quoted prices 10 times higher for ‘tourists’ than locals. Unscrupulous ‘authorized’ moneychangers are everywhere. We noticed the tip off to possible rip-off when finding posted exchange rates that seemed too good to be true. On two separate occasions we were entertained by these sly characters. Our first attempt to change US$100 (which equals $1,130,000 rupees) was an example of short-changing. Upon careful counting we noticed the agent kept adding small bills to the pile, insisting to keep a small amount of our money for himself for ‘good luck’. Finally we were disgusted and exited to find another moneychanger, shouting in the street, “This guy’s a thief!” The second character was much sneakier. He quickly entered an amount on his calculator showing the total while handing over the rupees. Had we not been suspicious we could have easily overlooked that his calculator didn’t work correctly and he ‘miscalculated’ the amount by 90,000 rupees in his favor. We learned to always count our cash before leaving since ‘honest’ little mistakes seem to happen frequently in Bali.

Another tourist rip off is the long arm of the law, which is always reaching out palm turned up! Bali police set up roadblocks and target tourists in rentals cars and motor scooters. We had been lucky enough to avoid them for a month until getting nabbed by one of their street corner outposts. We were ushered into an outhouse-sized office and informed of our violations. No international driver’s license (fine $50,000 rupees), impeding traffic – we stopped at a red light, getting in the way of those running it! (fine $30,000 rupees), and running a red light because we stopped after the painted line (fine $40,000 rupees). We now owed $120,000 rupees in fines which were payable in front of a judge at the city courthouse…OR the helpful police could take care of our fine for us (wink, wink) if we would just give them the money.

Fortunately, before we had entered the office we quickly removed all but $51,000 rupees from our pockets and hid it. During our interrogation we convinced the police that this was all the money we had and plea bargained our fine down to ‘coincidentally’ $51,000 rupees. As we reached for our cash and held it up high enough for anyone passing by to see, they excitedly pushed our hands down out of view, which we quickly lifted up again just for the fun of it. Putting on our helmets and thanking the officers for their help we hopped on our scooter and rode off laughing about our ‘bribery in Bali’ experience. Something anyone visiting Bali can also be guaranteed to experience is genuinely friendly, helpful, and honest people, unfortunately it just takes some work find them.

Our real reason for basing ourselves in Kuta was to escape on daily surf safari adventures. Thirty years ago Kuta beach was ‘discovered’ as a surfers’ Mecca; now it’s overwhelmed with tourists, traffic, and hawkers, a paradise lost. After reuniting with Jay, he showed us a secret route that would eventually escape the busy streets and police by taking dirt paths through plantations and cow pastures, ending up at surf spots with names like Balangan, Nyang Nyang, Padang Padang, Impossibles, Ulu Watu, and Dreamland. More often than not the surf was on a shallow reef break or too big for beginners like us, so we relaxed on the beach watching Jay rip it up. On smaller surf days at sandy beach breaks we managed to catch a few waves of our own.

Day & Jay preparing for a day of surfing at Dreamland beach, Bali

Another easy day trip from Kuta (although we recommend spending at least four days) is Ubud, the ‘cultural center’ of Bali. Stepping off the bus in Ubud we were promptly greeted with a variety of accommodation and transport options.  We chose the Tutick house, a small house situated in a garden setting away from street noise; it was clean, included a full breakfast, and had hot showers.   Ubud is known for having the best prices and selection on traditional handicrafts, and nearby Celuk for sterling silver. Jay needed to purchase sarongs and jewellry for his enterprising business and we got the chance to act as shopping consultants. We also spent a day on our scooters riding around the nearby volcano and marveling at the beautifully terraced rice paddies that are still cultivated by hand

Ubud rice paddies

In the evenings we enjoyed the varied nightlife and splurged on a gourmet dinner that rivaled many of our favorite restaurants at home in Portland. We also had the opportunity to see a traditional Balinese dance show at the palace temple; it was both strange and interesting, with ornate costumes and complex movements,  – we would have needed an interpreter to understand the play’s meaning.  To our surprise Ubud even had a jazz club with live music so we checked it out and had a great time listening to the energetic band. Although known as a tourist town, Ubud didn’t have that over-run atmosphere we dread, and was a refreshing change of pace.

If you really want to get away from it all, head to the Gili Islands just off the mainland on Lombok. Leaving at 5 am, we caught Kuta sleeping while waiting for our transport. The partiers had staggered to bed, motor scooters hadn’t started their daily assault, and the tourist’s shops were closed – even the hotel staff was fast asleep on the floor in front of the reception.

Our trip to Gili Air was a 14-hour journey the cheap way (or a 3 hour flight for those with more money than time). Our itinerary included a local bus, slow ferry, another local bus and ended with an ocean-drenching small boat. Arriving on Gili Air just after sunset, we raced to find accommodation before dark, which we discovered wasn’t easy. Locals kept saying “island full, no rooms”. Walking the sandy trail nearly around the island we found a very rustic thatched hut that probably was the last room available, so we kicked out the mice and moved in. Tired, grumpy, and hungry we collapsed in the heat and tried to sleep. The rooster alarm clock awoke us early so we had breakfast and decided to search for better accommodations, hoping that some people had checked out. Luckily we found a newly constructed bungalow and we were the first people to stay in it.

The three Gili Islands, Taranga (party island), Meno (solitude island), and Air (a mix of both) are void of any vehicles except horse drawn carts, thus offering us the quiet slow pace we needed. We spent our days sneaking into the nearby expensive hotel pool (rooms US$28 per night), laying in our hammock, recovering from a bout of Bali belly, reading, talking, writing stories, and watching sunsets from the unique individual eating platforms.

People may wonder why would we need to relax since we’re traveling for 14 months. Fun as it’s been, traveling cheaply, doing our own planning, and trying to stay healthy takes work. Recharged after eight days we moved on, using the same transport method in reverse. Our total round trip transport cost was US$18 dollars for two. In fact, during our entire six week Indonesia stay we only spent U.S. $693 for all our accommodations, meals, transportation, & entertainment – by far the best bargain of our trip thus far.  I guess we got exactly what we paid for and more.

Dale & I surfing


Filed Under: Travel Tagged With: adventure travel, backpackers, Bali, long term travel, surfing, vagabonding

June 1, 2001

Sabah

Our 10-day Sabah Saga

There’s one travel truth I should have learned by now: if you plan an inflexible itinerary something will always happen to put a kink in it. Dale and I only had a 10 day layover in Sabah, so upon arriving in the capital city of Kota Kinabalu we planned to make the most efficient use of our time by booking a series of discounted, non-refundable tours.  Included was a scuba dive lodging & meal package on the island resort of Sipidan, reservations at a jungle lodge to visit a orangutan rehabilitation center, and  permits to climb Mt. Kinabalu, a 13,000 foot volcano.  I knew it would be a grueling schedule even under ideal circumstances, but certainly hadn’t planned on the additional challenges of getting Dengue Fever, a scratched cornea, a cold, and my toenail falling off!

My misfortune began our first evening in Sabah.  After finishing our bookings, I began to feel queasy and tried to go to sleep early. That night I was surprised by how quickly & violently tropical illnesses take root. By 2 a.m. it was undeniable that the horrible throbbing in my head and aching of my body wasn’t just caused by the loud music vibrating our hostel room from the karaoke bar below. At first I thought I was coming down with a nasty case of the flu, but I had to admit my symptoms matched the definition of Dengue fever stated in the Lonely Planet’s “Healthy Travel Asia” book:

“The illness usually starts quite suddenly with fever, headache, nausea and vomiting, and joint and muscle pains. The aches and pains can be severe…and many travelers report experiencing extreme tiredness with muscle wasting and lack of energy for several weeks…”

Those pesky mosquito bites I got in Manila turned out to be more of a pain than I ever imagined.

I was determined to regain my health quickly since our tours couldn’t be postponed for long.. After two days rest I convinced myself I was on the mend when the second incident happened. I woke in the middle of the night, this time to a piercing pain in my eye – debris had slipped under my contact and scratched my cornea. When we really couldn’t delay our trip to Sipidan any longer Dale led me, a weak hobbling ‘pirate’ with a patch over my eye, on our long journey to the island.

Sipidan, scuba diver's paradise

Scuba divers have voted Sipidan as “the best beach dive in the world” and we agree. Only 45 feet from shore the reef drops off dramatically from 9 to 90 feet. From the Borneo Diver’s pier you can sit and watch sharks and turtles lazily swim through the clear shallow water covering the reef directly underneath. After another day of rest I was well enough to join Dale on a few of the boat dives and was not disappointed for my efforts. The most unusual aspect of these dives was the amazing amount of turtles we saw on a consistent basis. They often allowed us to approach closely; we were dwarfed by their size and amazed how gracefully an 80-year-old specimen could swim.

Scuba diving next to 80 year old turtle, Sipidan

Back on Borneo, traveling up the eastern Sabah coastline proved to be another adventure. No deluxe air-conditioned buses were available so we rode as the locals do – on a converted minivan. Its original seats had been stripped and replaced with rows of closely placed benches. Our vehicle, which regularly seated six passengers, was crammed with 12 adults and 6 kids. Luckily our large backpacks were allowed on since they provided extra seats in the isle. Besides the occasional screams from the babies and men who constantly puffed away on their cigarettes, everyone was amazingly calm – even we managed to stay still squeezed in our tiny space like accordions.

Upon reaching our next destination we were relieved to discover the room we pre-booked was in a quiet, spacious lodge at the edge of the jungle. The orangutan feeding platform at the rehabilitation center was a pleasant fifteen-minute walk through virgin forest. By the afternoon the tour buses had departed leaving more orangutans than people in the preserve. Two friendly male orangutans found Dale especially entertaining. Although we tried not to disturb them in their habitat they quickly approached us and attached themselves to Dale like a long lost relative.

Two baby Orangutans jumped the fence and attached themselves to Dale

By the time we reached Mt. Kinabalu I’d regained my health if not my strength. Since climbing this volcano is the number one tourist attraction in Sabah, I thought, “How hard can it be?” At our dorm room in the hostel we met other like-minded hikers and decided to team up with four of them to share the cost of the required guide.  We woke early the next morning to prepare for a long days. It was distinctively cooler at the base of the mountain (3,000 feet elevation), so we dressed in pants, long sleeved shirts, and wore shoes for the first time in five months. Although my nose began to dribble with this sudden climate change we welcomed the cool air since we began to sweat just 15 minutes into the hike. The first day of hiking was all uphill, ascending 6,000 feet through sub tropic, temperate, and alpine regions. The trail was well trodden with occasional handrails and 2,500 man made steps spaced along the more difficult sections, but I couldn’t help but think, “This is the Stairmaster from hell!”

Harry, our patient Malaysian guide, was required to stay with the slowest member of the group (me) and Dale kept the same pace weighed down with carrying both our daily supplies in one pack. Six hours after beginning we struggled into the mid mountain lodge, our final destination for the day. We collapsed in the dining room, drank hot tea, and enjoyed impressive views as mist drifted apart to reveal glimpses of the valley far below and imposing granite towers near the summit. Not only could I barely move, but also I regrettably resigned myself to acknowledging – you guessed it – that I was sick again, this time with a cold.

For the non-acclimatized it is difficult to sleep at high elevations. We arose the next morning at 2 a.m. after a night of restless sleep to continue up to the summit in time to watch the sunrise. The final 4,000 feet was by far the steepest and most treacherous section of the trail and we climbed with just our headlamps and the full moon to illuminate the way. Dale was doubtful that I would make it to the top in my condition, and I’m sure Harry agreed but was too polite to say anything. When we reached a section of seemingly endless granite boulders so sheer that we had to grab ropes bolted to the rock in order to scramble up their faces, I began to wonder myself if I’d succeed. At 5 am we reached the top of a peak that allowed us to finally see the summit above – that view was the inspiration I needed. By 5:45 a.m. we reached the summit just in time to watch a spectacular sunrise.

summit of Mr. Kinabalu

Most people believe that climbing down a mountain is far easier than going up, but I had my reservations about descending 10,000 feet with my already wobbly legs. We stopped for a hearty breakfast back at the mid mountain lodge at 9 a.m., grabbed our pack, and continued down. Marathon athletes compete in an eco-challenge race every September, jogging up and running down this volcano trail to complete the entire circuit as quickly as two hours forty-five minutes. For us, it took nearly as long to descend as ascend.

For the last three hours we walked in a complete downpour, and when the trail transformed into a muddy river it didn’t help quicken our progress. By the time we reached the bottom our leg muscles were like spaghetti and we couldn’t bare the sight of any steps, up or down! I lost one toenail, and Dale lost two along with his desire to hike anything else for the rest of our trip. Myself? I think our toenails will grow back by October, just in time to see what the Himalayas might have in store for us.

Filed Under: Travel Tagged With: adventure travel, backpackers, hiking, long term travel, Sabah, scuba diving, Sipidan, trekking, vagabonding

May 1, 2001

Palau, Micronesia

Palau: Our Pacific Paradise

Palau, a group of islands in Micronesia, is not a typical stop for independent travelers. Just getting there requires some effort; for us it took four layovers and six days due to our circuitous route and missed flight. Because of its isolation from nearest neighbors (about 800 miles east of the Philippines and 800 miles S.W. of Guam) and population of only about 20,000 residents, once we arrived we were rewarded with an idyllic small-community, tropical island atmosphere. We were amazed to discover that the roads didn’t even have names or street signs! After our brief foray into the hustle of S.E. Asia and our imminent return shortly hereafter, we vowed to make the most of Palau’s remote natural beauty and tranquility.

Our main challenge to enjoying this Pacific paradise was money. Until recently Palau was an American territory so its currency is in US dollars – we no longer had the advantage of a favorable exchange rate. In addition, since most visitors to Palau are tourists from the US or Japan on short package holidays, prices are reflected accordingly.  For our first few nights we stayed at the cheapest place we could find in the capital city Koror, at the D.W. motel for $50 a night. Although it was clean and the Palaun owners nice, it was bland – not the way we wanted to spend a good hunk of our daily budget. Then serendipitous encounters led us to friendly American expats who found creative solutions to our budget challenge.

Ron Leidich, founder of Planet Blue Sea Kayak Tours, helped us jump start our Palauan explorations. Being a frequent independent traveler himself, Ron understood our situation and worked out an adventurous yet economical plan. Typically he guides day, multi-day, and even several week tours through Palau’s famous Rock Islands. Since we couldn’t afford the standard package for a multi-day trip, Ron provided the next best option – a do-it-yourself itinerary. He reviewed maps with us of a proposed three-day route, which sounded great, so we happily left the D.W. motel the next morning. After we loaded our two-person sit on top kayak with our camping and cooking gear we headed off following Ron’s directions.

Over 340 islands comprise the archipelago of Palau, which doesn’t even include the countless number of small rock islands. To our uninitiated eyes they all looked the same, making navigation a challenge. Mid-morning we flagged down a fishing boat to verify where we were on the map, and later that afternoon we caught up to and tagged along with part of Ron’s guided tour. When we ventured close to the shorelines of the rock islands we noticed that features, which were hidden from a distance view became easily visible when viewed close up.

Before Ron returned home with his group he pointed us in the right direction towards our next destination, the cathedral cave. Silently gliding through the calm waters of a low entrance, high ceiling cave covered with stalactites was dramatic even without the knowledge of how these formations were created. Unfortunately we only had time for a quick stop before the tide began to lower, exposing patches of reef:  If we had waited any longer approaching our campsite would have become too treacherous.

Kayaking through Palau's rock islands

Camping on a secluded uninhabited island was the ideal way to experience its peaceful natural environment. Once our initial concerns about getting lost disappeared we found it surprisingly simple to fend for ourselves. Our first two nights camping were on Lee Marvin Beach, a beautiful setting complete with a small covered shelter, outhouse, and water basin full of rainwater.

Each day we followed Ron’s advice about the best spots to visit and excursions to rarely visited marine lakes and caves; his itinerary minimized our paddling efforts since we traveled the same direction as the prevailing tides. Our kayak was stable and comfortable and best of all its design left our bodies exposed so that we could splash ourselves while still paddling to cool off – very important since Palau is only seven degrees north of the equator thus is consistently hot and humid.

Visiting the German Lighthouse, the highest point in the rock islands, wasn’t as easy of an endeavor. WWII cannons, barracks, pill boxes, and other relics were scattered about the route; although an old war road leads the way to the top it is still a hot, tiring trek through the jungle – especially while carrying camping gear, food and water! We pitched our tent on a tiny clearing at the rocky base of the lighthouse. As luck would have it, all night it rained forcing us to put on the fly and turning our tent into a steam sauna. However, the sunset and sunrise view overlooking a large group of the rock islands, and the kudos of respect from the locals upon returning made the jaunt well worth the trouble. Some Palauans thought we were crazy for camping someplace they believed is haunted with the ghosts of Japanese solders who were killed at that location.

The Tarzan Tour can only be done three days a month when the tides are at just the right levels and time of day. Created as an ‘extreme adventure’ including cliff jumps, rope swings, and cave dives”, we couldn’t pass up on this opportunity. With Ron’s marine biology background  we were able to better understand  the complex ecosystems and explore secret spots he discovered. There were only two other people on our kayak tour (a quiet Russian couple) so for us it was an ideal small group exploration.

Our first stop was Lost Lake, which we entered by kayaking through a small marine tunnel that is only exposed at low tide. This hidden lake had colorful soft coral fans along the entrance and excellent snorkeling that included blue-lipped clams and feathery lionfish. Tarzan Lake was our second stop, and this time the tunnel to enter the lake was so tiny that we had to leave our kayaks tied up at the shoreline of the rock island and snorkel in. Everyone enjoyed swinging from a long overhanging vine and calling out Tarzan yells before dropping into the lake.  For our final big thrill we free dove into the crystal filled air chambers of the Blue Room. The entrance to the first portion of the cave was about 10 feet underwater and the tunnel continued 15 feet or so before opening up so we could swim up to the surface. The second portion of the cave was a quicker swim underwater into a smaller, stalactite filled cavern filled with streaks of light and beautiful blue hue. The third chamber of this cave was a longer swim through a tunnel about 20 feet deep and another 15 feet long – only the guys opted to venture here.

While paddling through these destinations Ron taught us about the nature and geology of the Rock Islands. He used an analogy to explain how the undercut mushroom-shaped limestone formations came into existence: The rock islands have eroded in a similar process as icebergs, which melt unevenly and are eroded by waves causing large chunks of ice to break away.  Initially a large limestone mass pushed up to the surface of the ocean.   Then over thousands of years the triple forces of waves, acids created by rainwater mixing with leaves, and chitins chewing away at the shoreline working their magic. These formations are truly unique, and kayaking through this wonderland for five days only wetted our desire to experience them more in depth.

sharks are common encounters scuba diving at Palau

Palau is most famous as a world-class diving destination known for  big fish, strong currents, and huge wall drop offs.   In a typical day of scuba diving with Sam’s Diving Tours we saw a plethora o spectacular sights including: a 40 foot vertical column of spiraling pyramid butterfly fish, several hundred barracuda swimming together in a school, oversized Napoleon Wrasses & Parrot Fish as large as a human, huge turtles, and countless gray, black tip, and white tip reef sharks.

One of our most memorable diving days was at the famous Blue Corner dive site. This dive is truly a sensory overload; on our four previous dives at Blue Corner we drifted with the current and casually hooked in to the edge of the reef wall so that we remained stationary to watch all the action drift by. This dive was a lot different – the current was ripping! When we reached the reef plateau we hooked in and the sensation was incredible – our skin flapped like a sky diving free fall and the water pressure threatened to rip off our masks and regulators. The strong current finally found a weak point – almost simultaneously our reef hooks straightened out under it’s force and we both had to grab for a handhold to keep from being ‘blown’ off the reef. While fighting to hold on, Andrea managed to take a photo – I look like I’m in a wind tunnel.  Twenty-nine minutes later (one of our shorter dives) we floated on the surface so pumped with adrenalin we couldn’t contain ourselves. That dive was UNBELIEVABLE – words could never describe it! We both I agreed that out of our cumulative 250 dives that one was definitely the most memorable.

Next on the itinerary was Jellyfish Lake, at the complete opposite end of the spectrum from Blue Corner. Calmly we floated among thousands of non-stinging jellyfish trapped in a marine rock island lake – it was incredible feeling their soft delicate bodies brush against us, a surreal sensory experience. How do you finish a day like this? Have a relaxing tasty lunch on a white sandy beach then dive on a WWII sunken cargo shipwreck. Looming up from 100 foot plus depths the Iro‘s huge bulk is easily visible & still intact: It’s body, masts, and big guns have been transformed into a colorful coral garden paradise, completely encrusted with razor clams & home to many fish species.

non-stinging jellyfish, Jellyfish Lake

That day of scuba diving may never be topped. Palau is world class and our efforts to get there were rewarded beyond our wildest imaginations. Every single dive had so many things to see we could go back time and time again and never experience it all – but we’ll certainly try again anyway!

When we weren’t scuba diving or kayaking we found other adventures on Babeldaob, the largest island in Palau. One day we joined Greg, an expat lawyer who formerly worked in Portland, for a self guided four-wheel drive tour around the island.  Bouncing around the rough clay roads three hours up to the far tip of the island, we saw ancient stone monoliths, a Bai- an interestingly decorated men’s house, and swam under a waterfall. It was a great way to meet the locals since a lack of road signs necessitated many stops.

PHOTOs:  waterfall, bai

We were surprised by the number of Pacific Northwest expats living in Palau.  Sam, the owner of Sam’s Diving Tours, is a Pacific Northwest expat who grew up in Olympia, WA and moved to Palau over 20 years ago. Starting his own diving operation and building on his success, he has established a very successful business while still managing to create a casual and comfortable atmosphere. Sam’s generosity provided us with an interesting place to call home – his personal sailboat anchored a short kayak paddle away.

Sam’s Bottom Time Bar & Grill is like the “Cheers” bar of Koror. Hanging out at Bottom Time we made new friends, exchanged travel stories, drank Red Rooster beer, and ate the freshest and cheapest sashimi we’ve ever discovered. Dermot, Sam’s general manager originally from Ireland, came to Palau to escape to the Rock Islands. He has traveled and sailed to many great places but Palau has hooked and kept him. Dermot’s Pacific N.W. connection was a three-month stay in Portland while refurbishing a sailboat (his favorite place was… Kell’s Irish Pub of course!)   Dermot’s Palauan wife, Kaud, fell in love with my turtle necklace – I considered trading it in exchange for diving but just couldn’t let it go. She treated us to a huge mangrove crab, a local delicacy, which we enjoyed to its last little morsel. Ron, founder of Planet Blue Kayak Tours, is a graduate from Oregon State University. His enthusiastic spirit and can-do attitude was the catalyst that created our Palauan good fortune. He loves Palau and its nature, so we volunteered to help him protect it by spending half a day collecting destructive reef killing “crown of thorns” starfish – an experience we thoroughly enjoyed.

It’s not always the place, often it’s the people we meet that brings us the best memories. Palau and Sam’s Dive Tours crew offered us an abundance of both.  Palau is definitely another place we’ll come back to visit!

Filed Under: Travel Tagged With: adventure travel, backpackers, long term travel, Micronesia, Palau, scuba diving, sharks, South Pacific, vagabonding

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