This was the day we'd been anticipating...the day we'd wake up early and ascend 3000 feet to the pass in -20 degree temperatures. We arose together, had a small breakfast, and then said our final goodbyes, as I would be transferring to another village at the end of the trek, and making my way back to Kathmandu, while they were continuing on for another week. I left 10 or 15 minutes ahead of everyone else, as they planned to walk together. It quickly became clear, though, that this was impractical given the temperature. The differing speeds at which everyone walked would have required some people to slow down quite a bit, or stop and wait frequently. And we simply needed to keep moving to generate body heat. The little headlamps bobbing along below me weren't getting any further away, so I knew that a couple of them were keeping a good pace. At the first rest stop (High Camp from the day before), Dante pulled in right as I was about to leave. After a few memorable remarks about how far we had left to go and how much energy it took to get there, most of which I can't repeat here, he decided to join us as we walked on. We gave him some more time to rest, at which point John came up and decided to do the same. They were going to wait a bit to tell the others and then hike their own pace, probably joining us somewhere along the way. Pasang and I hiked on in the dark, and I started to develop that uphill rhythm that makes trekking almost a meditative experience. My footsteps fell in line with my breathing, and we continued to climb, more gently now, through the remaining 2000 feet. The fact that it was dark made it even easier to get lost in my footsteps, as I couldn't really see the scenery around me. After about two hours, a thin line of light drew across the sky, gradually unfurling from the distant ridges until we could turn off the headlamps. We reached the pass within minutes of sunrise, just in time to see the tips of the mountains to the west light up. Then we took a well-deserved break, sheltering ourselves behind a closed tea-house that probably does a much better business over the summer. Pasang brought out two candy bars, which absolutely tasted better than any candy bars I've ever eaten, and we celebrated the high point of the hike. Dante and John were close, and we waited a bit for them to join us, snapping a quick picture at the pass -- it was just too cold to keep our gloves off for too long. Waylen crested the ridge right when we were about to snap the photo, and tried to run to join us, but quickly realized this wasn't going to happen. He slammed to a halt, muttering something about how bad of an idea it was to try and run at that altitude. The four of us then descended through increasing light, reaching Muktinath in another few hours. Andrea and Rachael joined us a few hours later, having taken their time, and enjoying a bit more warmth at the top than we did. Once again, we all bid adieu, for good this time, as I was whisked away to Jomsom, where I would fly out the next day. It was an immensely successful trip in almost every way imaginable.
Thorung La at sunrise
Pasang and I celebrate our trek.
We were able to convince Pasang to shed his gloves one last time for this shot.
On the descent, we were constantly aware of what the mountains looked like behind us.
Near Muktinath, we were able to spot some blue sheep, the famous specimens studied in the classic The Snow Leopard, by Peter Matthieson. Blue sheep are actually hybrids of sheep and goats.
The village of Muktinath is a famous pilgrimmage site, well known for its complex of temples combining the Buddhist and Hindu faiths. Prayer flags litter the hills entering the village.
The Vishnu temple has 108 water spouts. Bathing under each one is supposed to bring enlightenment.
For obvious reasons, I decided enlightenment could wait.
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