Finally, after many lax days, I had the plan of making some distance. Only the day I went to Tilicho did I walk more than 15km since Manang and I was itching to pick up a little speed. My cash was hitting a low; I needed to go a bit faster, cut out the luxuries such as lunch and hope for cheap prices or I'd need to find an unlikely ATM in rural Nepal. I wasn't too worried, I had enough for 1000 rupees for each planned day and I was back on the road again, where easy shipments lowered costs. When I headed to the Annapurna Base Camp though, the price was sure to make a jump.
The cheap prices were the only thing I liked about the road, the long dusty noise machine that was killing my mountain solitude. Undeterred by the previous day's adventure, my route again included many miles along a small trail on the opposite side of the river from the road. I analyzed my map to be sure the trail stayed continuously above the river to avoid flood outs, and thankfully, it did.
The trail was quite pleasant. I cut through pine forests, going up and down, around trees and rocks. It actually felt like real hiking for once, instead of just walking along a road. I passed a mission group from Massachusetts and they were the only people I saw all day.
My route was a little longer than the main one, hugging the hills around the river's wetlands. At a few points, the trail ended, but I only had to walk across stony fields with scattered pines and the trail picked up again on the other side.
At one point, the trail forked in two, one heading low and one heading high. I try to avoid unnecessary climbing, so I took the low route. I should have learned my lesson before. A little way down, I found a nice sunny rock next to the river, which had finally consolidated into one narrow, swift stream with class 3-4 rapids. I sat and ate an apple I foraged from the ground near an orchard. There is a special joy that comes from eating a ground apple next to a river with a pocket knife. When my lunch was done, I continued down the trail.
Then, the trail ended abruptly. I had two choices, bushwhack forward or turn back. Everyone knows which option I chose. At first, I plowed through a vast field of cannabis, which was much more pleasant than the successive field of nettles, much worse than their American cousins. I'd see what I thought was the trail above only to climb the bluff to find more nettles. I walked through swamps, skirted cliffs, climbed up, down, and around boulders, the settled for the scrambling on the rocks right along the river, which was surprisingly faster and more fun that the other hiking options.
I noticed a bluff again that seemed like a trail, and again, after climbing, there was no trail, but up the next bluff, I saw blue skies through the trees, indicating level land above; this had to be the trail and it was! Travel speeded up again once I found the path. I had to rejoin the road after Lete and after a while, my left ankle started hurting. Thankfully, I only had two hours more to limp.
Ghasa was unremarkable, but the room was nice. I met a nice group of older Israeli women with great senses of humor. They were pleasure.
The cheap prices were the only thing I liked about the road, the long dusty noise machine that was killing my mountain solitude. Undeterred by the previous day's adventure, my route again included many miles along a small trail on the opposite side of the river from the road. I analyzed my map to be sure the trail stayed continuously above the river to avoid flood outs, and thankfully, it did.
The trail was quite pleasant. I cut through pine forests, going up and down, around trees and rocks. It actually felt like real hiking for once, instead of just walking along a road. I passed a mission group from Massachusetts and they were the only people I saw all day.
My route was a little longer than the main one, hugging the hills around the river's wetlands. At a few points, the trail ended, but I only had to walk across stony fields with scattered pines and the trail picked up again on the other side.
At one point, the trail forked in two, one heading low and one heading high. I try to avoid unnecessary climbing, so I took the low route. I should have learned my lesson before. A little way down, I found a nice sunny rock next to the river, which had finally consolidated into one narrow, swift stream with class 3-4 rapids. I sat and ate an apple I foraged from the ground near an orchard. There is a special joy that comes from eating a ground apple next to a river with a pocket knife. When my lunch was done, I continued down the trail.
Then, the trail ended abruptly. I had two choices, bushwhack forward or turn back. Everyone knows which option I chose. At first, I plowed through a vast field of cannabis, which was much more pleasant than the successive field of nettles, much worse than their American cousins. I'd see what I thought was the trail above only to climb the bluff to find more nettles. I walked through swamps, skirted cliffs, climbed up, down, and around boulders, the settled for the scrambling on the rocks right along the river, which was surprisingly faster and more fun that the other hiking options.
I noticed a bluff again that seemed like a trail, and again, after climbing, there was no trail, but up the next bluff, I saw blue skies through the trees, indicating level land above; this had to be the trail and it was! Travel speeded up again once I found the path. I had to rejoin the road after Lete and after a while, my left ankle started hurting. Thankfully, I only had two hours more to limp.
Ghasa was unremarkable, but the room was nice. I met a nice group of older Israeli women with great senses of humor. They were pleasure.
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