So I ended up taking a side trip to Nepal with two really good friends of mine. It was absolutely fantastic. We had about nine days, which was just enough time to fly to Katmandu, bus to Pokhara, and then trek in the "hills" below the large Himalayan peaks in the Annapurna region. The circuit we hiked took us up and down what the Nepalese call hills, but easily pass for mountains back in the states. A good 11,000-12,000 ft above sea level. Imagine you are craning your neck to look up at the peak of the tallest mountain you have ever seen. Now imagine standing on top of said mountain and still casting your eyes high into the heavens onto a much, much loftier peak. That is what the Himalaya are like. Unbelievably tall with valleys deep as the abyss. In the depths the climate is tropical and the valleys are a patchwork of rice patties. As you ascend you travel through forests of rhododendron trees. The tree line extends far above those of mountain ranges in the United States. Far into the heights above sheer, glaciated peaks pierce the skies. I barely even scratched the surface of what the Himalaya are.
One of the most interesting things about trekking in the Himalaya is that you are not wandering on mountain trails only accessed by mountain goats and yaks. No. The paths you tread have been used by the Nepalese for hundreds of years. They have painstakingly created stone staircases running up and down along the mountains for miles. As you trek you meander through village after village and observe their simple life. I have rarely felt more peace than I did in the tranquil villages and teahouses that dotted our path. The people of Nepal have literally carved a life for themselves out of the mountains themselves. Terraces and gardens run nearly from top to bottom of the hill sides and extend to the edges of sheer cliffs. The people are also wonderfully hospitable.
On our last day we descended down hours of stone staircases to the valleys. For some reason Nepal was on strike that day and there were no taxis, buses, or any other form of transportation to Pokhara besides our swollen feet and battered knees. So we walked. We were followed by gangs of singing, begging children. We walked for hours in driving rain that soaked us through. We walked until we could not stop, because if we did we would not be able to start again. Near the outskirts of Pokhara we finally found a car that would take us the rest of the way to Pokhara. The next day we took a bus to Katmandu, and the next day we flew back to India.