This is the fourth post of a three-week series. Please visit the “Adventure Journal” page of our website and start with “Why Nepal?” to read in order! As always, I have added perspectives from the kids (as they allow me to).

Cover Photo: This Nepali bridge clearly didn’t make it and now is a relic of the past, making way for new mule-proof metal bridges.

*Please note that to see Cover Photo on email notification, you will need to click “Read On” at the bottom of the email.

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Day 3: Khola Besi (1,000m) - Jaghat (1,500m)

May 31, 2019

Stats:

Walked: 5 hrs 41 mins
Distance: 11.41 miles
Ascent: 2,024 ft
Descent: 799 ft
Elevation Gain: 1,225 ft

Today was a tough day…even a bad day. It was majority uphill in the heat and it was super uncomfortable. I don’t remember packs of mules ever being so prevalent 19 years ago. There were so many packs of mules that we often had to wait at the end of narrow passages and bridges for them to cross before we could begin walking. The pros of the mules is that you always know exactly where to step on the trail because they usually find the best paths up loose rock and dirt. The biggest downside, however, was the abundance of mule poop on the trail, which in turn, attracted a TON of flies.

Waiting for mules to pass on the narrow uphill path.

More mules and tractors. = dust and flies :(

Mules are a cross breed between horses and donkeys. They are human creations and nature has responded by making them sterile. They work hard all day and can carry around 100kg (almost 200lbs) up steep trails. The mule herder, often a young man (in his late teens to mid-twenties), usually walks behind the pack of loaded mules, and at their pace. They have enough stamina to shout and whistle directions to the lead mules on which way to go and when to stop. Some of the herders looked a little high, and could be found with cigarettes in his mouth, a whip in one hand, and a small speaker playing Nepali tunes in the other hand.

Yesterday, the same mule bells and decorations that amused us, were today, annoying signals to pull over. While the natural breaks were probably helpful, we often pushed ourselves up into the mountain side while being vigilant about our toes not being stepped on. The saddest part about these mules was watching many of the packs get abused. When a herder was trying to keep a larger pack in-line, it was not uncommon to see large rocks being hurled at a mule’s head as punishment for any transgressions. We saw a few mules with messed up eyes (that I am convinced was a result of a rogue rock) and many with sores and bloody spots where the saddles rubbed them incessantly (like under the tail). The was not the case with all herders, and in fact, most herders (including the one for our own rented mules, Myla) went to great lengths to take care of mules—not just as generators of their livelihood, but maybe even very close pets. But the “mean herders” as we called them among ourselves, broke our hearts.

The walk was especially hard for Zayan. He had an upset stomach and is still not used to squat pooping. He had so many “nature poops” (as Kaysee calls them), and it was so hot, that he developed chaffing problems around mile 4, which meant he still had to walk 7 miles through the pain. At one point he saw a Helipad sign/space made on flat dirt with rocks and he begged me to end this hike and have a Helicopter pick him up. I explained that unless someone lost a limb or had a heart attack, a Heli-evac was not an option. If he was still in pain tomorrow, we would have to start the three day journey back to Kathmandu. With the heat and less energy, the kids walked much of the day in silence.

One of my observations of the kids is that they walk like their personalities. Kaysee defiantly insists on forging his own path, even if means climbing boulders that are taller than the height of his shin. No matter how many times I told him to follow the mule trail, or even the footsteps of whomever was in front, he found his own way…but always did so with energetic gusto and eventual accomplishment. Kenza’s attitude is her super-power. On a bad day, her attitude can get in the way of an event, create anxiety, or can cause her to stubbornly sulk for hours; but when her attitude is positive (which is most of the time) she can conquer any obstacle, like she did for the entire hike of the day. Finally, Zayan is a very observant of his surroundings and quite a steady walker, unless there is a challenge. To his credit, his challenges today seemed terrible, but Zayan’s natural default is to “give up” when the going gets tough. This experience will push all of them as trekkers forcing them to conform where needed, maintain strong attitudes, and persevere through the hardship. Our ultimate hope, of course, is that their learnings through trekking will translate into their lives.

Perhaps the most stressful moment of today, was crossing a landslide area where active rocks were falling, largely due to “trail blazing” from blasts overhead. We had to wait for workers up above to stop their jackhammers while we crossed and were told not to stop for even a minute. I remember crossing landslides last time, but there is a whole new stress when the you are walking with littles. It is not just about the falling rocks, but the overly narrow path (where there is only room for one foot to follow the other)…it was hard to concentrate on myself and not worry about the kids. Our guide was great and assigned two of the other staff to wait for us at the crossing and maintain a 1:1 guiding ratio with each child.

Example of “trail blazing” across the river.

For me, the highlight of the day were, once again, the rocks. This time it wasn’t just about the heart omens from the Universe (though those were in abundance) but rather the type of silver-ish quartz rocks that glittered in the sun so magically it could have been a special effect of the movie, Avatar. One rock that I picked up to take to camp to study with the kids could have easily passed for the chunk of salmon steaks with the skin on.

Despite a lot of discomfort, our Day 3 Picture was all smiles.

Back at camp, Kapil and I exchanged notes and genuinely wondered if we were going to finish this trek as a family. When you strip away our enthusiasm for travel and our egos, the focal point of our conversation is always about what is best for the family as a whole. We were worried about Zayan and about the discomfort of the past few days. We decided to make the night at camp a memorable one and set-up a yard game from the Viking times (Kubb), that we learned about in Botswana, and taught the locals how to play.

Kubb was a hit among all…but quite a complicated game to explain in Hindi/Nepali!

As we were having a grand time playing Kubb and getting ready for dinner, many Nepalis came by to have a look at us for themselves. As brown Hindi-speaking trekkers, we got a lot of attention and almost everyone we passed wanted to engage in a conversation about where we were from and how old our kids were. It was, therefore, no surprise, when a group of about 15 locals stopped by our campsite to learn more about us. We all engaged in some light conversation in both English and Hindi and as they were leaving, I casually mentioned that they were walking in a very large group. They responded that they had just come from a neighboring village for a prayer service for dead child. They went on to explain that the child was six-years-old and had been playing along the river near the very same landslide that we crossed, when boulders from above killed and buried the child. “These things happen all the time, but they aren’t easy for the families” was their departing statement, as I stood and stared in shock and despair.

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Excerpt from Zayan’s Journal (12 years):

Today I had a pretty rough day. I am not going to sugar coat it at all. I peed out of my a** and chaffed my balls until they looked like uncooked steaks. I also saw humans abusing both nature and animals. People were blowing through the beautiful Nepali foothills and then paving them with cement. The cement is carried mules who are stoned and whipped, because to a rich businessman, time is money.

Going to back to the chaffing; I was miserable for the second half of the hike. Near the end of the hike, if I accidentally took a proper step, it would feel like a cheese grater rubbing against my jewels…so I had to do a penguin waddle which is not easy to do, going down a steep pitch with loose rocks.

I am now in my tent and my balls are hurting. Tomorrow is a short day, though I am still apprehensive about walking at all. I hope for the best.

Excerpt from Kenza’s Journal (9 years):

Today was 11 miles and was mostly uphill. Zayan got really bad chaffing near his peanuts which slowed the pace down a little. A few of the segments of the hike were ALL the way up, never down, never flat. On the first segment, there were about 900 mules.

I keep thinking about home. I sometimes wish Daddy wouldn’t pressure me so much to be the best. I woke up today trying to tell myself what I was doing and why. A lot of us are wondering if we will make all three weeks. I can’t draw a picture today because I am feeling really tired. Oh well, see you tomorrow.

Excerpt from Kaysan’s Journal (7 years):

Today we woke up and had tea again in the morning. The morning was the same as yesterday morning.

When we were hikeing my foot was hearting. But I kept going.

Then we had lunch. After lunch, I saw a bug bite on my hand. So I cried but kept going.

And then we got halfway to camp. Then my tooth was herting. But I kept going.

And then we got to camp so I take off my sock and find a dead spider in it. I had squished it while walking. I guess that is what was herting my foot.