We all woke up by 5:00 the next morning, greeted by a dark coldness that permeated every layer of clothing I was wearing. We set out fifteen minutes later and began ascending the staircase that would take us another vertical 350 meters to the top of Poon Hill. The physical activity negated the freezing cold and within a few minutes I felt pretty warm. Every trekker within five miles was on those stairs, going up in a long train, illuminated by the occasional LED headlamp and the full moon. Once at the top, the hundred people or so alternated between watching the sunrise, taking photos of the mountains, taking selfies, drinking masala tea, stomping their feet in an attempt to stay warm, and climbing the observation tower for a slightly higher view. The views of the mountains and the sunrise were spectacular; Poon Hill is an insanely popular destination for a reason.
After spending a little more than an hour at the top, we descended in the early morning light and warmth back to Ghorepani for breakfast at the lodge. After checking out, we started our journey to the east, first by climbing a ridge with more spectacular mountain and valley views, then by descending through a cold and quiet forest. The trail in the forest was initially covered with snow and ice, which led to some slow trekking, lots of slipping and sliding, and a few close calls (i.e. almost completely biting it). Eventually we descended far enough that the snow and ice gave way to mud and water, which made for slightly safer trekking conditions. As the sun rose and the day warmed up more, even the mud and water disappeared from the trail and we easily made our way down the stone stairs through the forest. The trail followed a river for much of the way and the forest canopy kept us cool from the blinding sun.
Though the snow, ice, mud, and water had disappeared from the trail, the large and frequent quantities of donkey poop still remained, posing a humorous, but legitimate, slippage threat while we climbed down thousands of steps. I couldn’t help but notice all the varieties, ranging from deposits of two dozen chocolate donut holes to massive piles of fudge. (Photos intentionally omitted.)
For lunch, we stopped at a lodge in a small village dwarfed by towering mountain walls on either side of the river. As we ate our lunch on the stone patio by the water, I enjoyed watching the chickens and donkeys wandering around town, carrying out their daily errands just like anyone else. They were by far the most popular (domesticated) animals on the trail, with the occasional lazy dog or maybe even a cat thrown in for good measure.
After eating, we trekked up and down through the forest and then around the valley until we reached Tadapani, where we were spending the night. We even caught a glimpse of a few languar monkeys in the rhododendron trees having their own lunches shortly after we finished ours.
After my usual hot shower and change of wardrobe, we hung out in the lodge with a new Canadian friend, chatting and playing cards – Presidents and Assholes, a game I hadn’t played since high school! – until dinner time. Before even reaching Nepal, I had read in my Nepal guidebook that apple pie has become a trekkers’ favorite on the trail, so I decided to try it for dinner. I had heard from the girls that the portions were pretty big, so I ordered only a bowl of soup and apple pie for dinner. (Ah, the joys of being an adult.) After I finished my soup, the slice of pie came out. Oh wait, did I say “slice of pie”? I actually meant “entire pie”. Yes, my dinner that night was an entire apple pie. The pie was cut into four slices – can you call something with a right angle a “slice”? – so that I felt somewhat like a human being and not like a barbarian that eats baked goods for sustenance. All that said, the crust was very savory and the gooey innards weren’t overwhelmingly sweet, so it didn’t feel like I was eating a massive dessert in lieu of a proper meal. I devoured the entire thing.
Sandip joined us for dinner too, something he didn’t normally do since he usually ate with the other guides or the family running the lodge. His mealtime manners were overly polite and adorable; I’m still not sure if they reflect his personal beliefs or Nepalese culture in general. He wouldn’t start eating his food until he asked us for permission first; likewise, he wouldn’t talk shop (i.e. the next day’s itinerary) unless we assured him that it was quite acceptable dinner conversation.