A Breath-Taking Trek through Some of the World's Highest Mountains

When I first planned to hike in the Himalayas, I wasn’t sure exactly what I wanted or expected to get out of the experience. What I ended up receiving from two weeks on the Annapurna Circuit Trek was so much more than I ever dreamed.

Not only did I exceed my personal expectations and best my previous altitude mark by more than 1,000 meters, but my level of determination and endurance came as a welcome surprise. Even when I didn’t feel like it, I kept pushing forward on the journey, passing hikers half my age. I felt young at heart and strong and fit in my body.

But most of all, I was rewarded by Mother Nature ... Gaia ... Pachamama (whatever you choose to call her) with amazing views and breath-taking experiences of some of her most treasured jewels as the snow-crowned peaks of some of the world’s highest mountains revealed themselves beneath magnificent cloudless blue skies.

The forests unfurled with lush flora and fauna beside rushing rapids and waterfalls cascading down from the heights above. The bamboo and pine forests above the tropical zone eventually gave way to the tree line where the vegetation stopped and the snow started. Each environment unique and beautiful in its own way as we pressed on each day.

And then there were the people – my fellow trekkers – many of whom meandered the same paths as we pushed forward along the counterclockwise route of the 220-kiliometer circuit. I now count among my friends many people from around the globe who shared this wonderful experience in the month of October 2022.

Preparing to Trek

After finishing the white-water trip in Trishuli, I took an awful public bus ride the rest of the way to Pokhara, Nepal, where most of the hiking expeditions around the Annapurna mountain range are centered. I wasn’t sure what trek I would do, but I wanted something with a bit of a challenge.

After the few days I spent in Kathmandu, where everything seemed like a hard sell or outright scam, Pokhara seemed much more relaxed and casual. The economy her is still very much geared around tourism, and there are still people trying to get you to spend your tourist dollars in their shops and restaurants, but seems a little less overt here.

Anyway, I asked around at some of the tourism agents and checked rates for guides and porters. I knew many people do not hire guides or porters for their treks preferring to do it on their own. I can certainly see the benefit of hiring a guide but as for a proter, if I am going hiking, I prefer to carry my own supplies. But the expense of hiring people, especially for a solo trekker, can be costly.

I began to settle on the idea of the Annapurna Circuit Trek because it was not an out-and-back trail. That is – unlike the Annapurna Base Camp Trek – it forms a loop so that trekkers do not have to walk the same path out that they walk in on. Plus, the base camp trek, which only reaches an altitude of about 4,200 meters would still be shy of my previous highest altitude, which I reached at Lake Hemkund Sahib in India in early September.

I wanted something higher and the circuit trek offered that with the 5,416-meter Thorong La Pass, which is the world’s highest walkable mountain pass. At more than 1,000 meters higher than Hemkund Sahib, it was a little daunting, but my confidence was building that I could handle both the altitude and the cold temperatures that come with the height.

The only problem was that the weather had been horrendous up to that point in the season and I had heard stories of people turning back from the pass because of heavy rain and snow in the higher elevations. But there was also talk of improving weather in the coming days.

One evening, as I was mulling these decisions over egg curry in a local restaurant, a young woman with dreadlocks and a French accent asked if she could join me at the table. She sat and we began to talk.

Her name was Maude but she said everyone calls her Mo-Mo, “Veg Mo-Mo,” which is a delectable Nepali dumpling eaten as a snack or meal.

Mo-Mo was in the same boat as me – leaning toward the circuit trek but unable to decide whether to hire a guide, trek alone or try to find a group expedition. We went after dinner and checked some of the prices for hiring guides and arranging treks through a travel agency.

The price of a guide split between two people was a lot more palatable, but neither of us really liked the idea of having our trekking days set out in the detailed kind of itinerary proposed by the agencies.

The following morning, we got together and went down to the Pokhara office where the permits to hike in the Annapurna Conservation District are issued and obtained the necessary documents to hike the trails without a guide.

The weather was beautiful that day and the forecast promised more of the same to come; so Mo-Mo arranged a bus to Besisahar for the following morning and we packed our bags to leave.

The Eastern Ascent – Days 1 and 2

The morning bus to Besisahar was crammed full of fellow trekkers who had the same idea in mind – to take advantage of the excellent window of opportunity and begin the circuit. It was a bumpy ride and took all morning, but we had good seats at the front of the bus and had arrived in the small town a little after noon that day.

We had a bite to eat and then took a jeep ride further north to the town of Sangye, splitting the fare with a young German-French trekker named Nils, who we would encounter again in coming days, and a young German named Goku, whom we had met at the permit office the day prior. There was also a French trekker named Flor and her guide in the vehicle as we bounced our way north along the bumpy path up the mountain.

Mo-Mo, the guide and I rode much of the trip standing in the back of the four-by-four vehicle with the backpacks, absorbing the beautiful sunny day as we rolled along above the rushing waters of the Marsyangdi River.

It took a few hours to travel just 20 kilometers or so, but we arrived in Sangye with still enough daylight to spare to walk a few kilometers north. Nils, Goku, Mo-Mo and I took the path onward while Flor and her guide stopped for the night at a hotel.

The four of us made our way up the road and a steep staircase to the town of Jagat and Nils decided he would press on further in the final hour of daylight. Meanwhile Mo-Mo and I found a nice place called Hotel Mont Blanc. We quickly learned the custom of finding rooms on the Annapurna Circuit is that if you agree to eat dinner and breakfast at a hotel, they comp the room. This would be the standard throughout the trek.

We had our dinner as a strong but brief rainstorm blew through the mountains. It would be the lone spot of rain that we would encounter on the entire duration of the trek.

Mo-Mo and I awoke the next morning and had our obligatory breakfast, during which we briefly met a Spaniard named David and his guide Avi, who would make appearances at random intervals throughout the duration of the 14 days of trekking. Mo-Mo and I set out by 6:30 a.m. to begin our first real day of hiking. We stayed primarily along the road route, crossing small waterfalls throughout the day – one of which created an elegant rainbow that we used to frame portraits of each other.

We had lunch at a place called Dharapani, where I tried Nepali lasagna. It was quite unlike its Italian namesake, however, being made with the thick homemade noodles served in the local thentuk soup and a bit of spicy tomato sauce with local vegetables. I won’t bore you with the details of every meal I ate in this blog but I must mention this one, because in all its local uniqueness, it was probably one of the best meals I recall eating on the trek.

The sky was beautiful that afternoon and we could start to see our first views of the snow-capped peaks of the might Himalayas as the day progressed. We knocked out 23 kilometers, ending our long day of hiking at the first hotel we came to south of the the small roadside village of Timang, where we could see Manaslu in all its glory.

The Northwest Trek – Days 3 through 5

After arising to the spectacular views of Manaslu, Mo-Mo and I set out on the road again, heading toward the town of Pisang.

We would hike another 23 kilometers on the third day, passing through the small town of Koto, where I took the opportunity to re-up on peanut butter (my secret addiction on this trek); the larger town of Chame; and one of Nepal’s largest apple orchards, which was in full bloom, at the town of Bhratang (where I dipped apple slices into peanut butter and drank instant coffee).

We continued on to upper Pisang amid a large group of British hikers with heavily overloaded porters.

Mo-Mo was getting very tired by the end of this day and, unknown to me at the time, it would be the first symptom of the altitude sickness that would eventually prevent her from completing this trek.

I found a very nice hotel called Norbulinga’s that boasted a fantastic view of Annapurna II and IV and was owned by a very friendly Buddhist gentleman. Shortly after we arrived, Nils from the jeep ride arrived with two other young European hikers, Christopher from Sweden and a French hiker named Theo.

Mo-Mo skipped dinner and I shared the dining hall with the three Europeans. Christopher was watching hockey highlights and I saw a recap of the Columbus Blue Jackets game, which helped me put into context for the first time the remote piece of the United States from where I hail.

The following morning, Mo-Mo was still not feeling well so she encouraged me to take the high road out of Upper Pisang, which was a more challenging off-road mountain path and she would follow the road up to Braga where we would meet for the night. I felt bad parting ways with her, but it seemed like a suitable course of action.

The first town along the way was a small place called Gyaru, where an old woman tempted me into here store with apple pies. After all, who can say no to grandma’s apple pies? She let me use the wi-fi to contact Mo-Mo and sold me on some fresh yak cheese before I left on my way toward the next town – Ngawal.

Along the route, I encountered David and Avi again, from the first morning in Jagat. We had seen them briefly on the path prior, but I actually traveled some distance with them on Day 4 and stopped for lunch with them in Ngawal.

I also took the opportunity to hike up a flight of 750 steps toward a statue and monument to the Buddhist lama Padmasambhava, who is credited with bringing tantric Buddhism to Tibet. The monk had frequented this part of Nepal in the Eighth Century and there is a cave where he meditated somewhere near the winding path of steps that continued beyond the monuments as far as the eye could see.

I returned to the restaurant in Ngawal and ate buckwheat pancakes with David and Avi. Despite my map showing me a tempting route through a mountain village called Chulu, Avi pointed me down the road and said that would be the best way to Braga (Bhraka).

I set out alone down that road but near the bottom, I ran into Nils, Christopher and Theo. It turns out they missed the high road out of Upper Pisang and were heading toward the route I had considered through Chulu. I hesitated only briefly before taking them up on their invitation to join them on the side trek into the mountains.

We hiked back the path fairly easily to the town of Chulu, which was on the opposite side of a small but fast-moving stream. Unfortunately, the bridge across this stream was gone and we had to cross it barefoot before relaxing along the rocky bed of the mountain waterway.

We eventually decided to move on, following the map of the trail, which took us steeply up the side of a mountain with some exquisite views of the Annapurna mountains. After the strenuous hike, we made our way across several kilometers of flat terrain before descending steeply into the town of Braga via the terrace of a 700-year-old now-abandoned ghompa, or monastery.

Once in town, I was able to contact Mo-Mo again and she was only about a kilometer from Braga on the main road. She caught up and we settled in for the night at a hotel called New Yak.

Day 5 was a scheduled rest and acclimatization day, which means that trekkers are supposed to sleep at the same altitude two days in a row to start to get used to the change in elevation. It is OK to hike some to higher elevations during the day, but the goal should be not to increase elevation significantly.

My plan for that day was to hike back to a cave where the Buddhist philosopher and poet Milarepa used to live about 4.5 kilometers off the main path. Mo-Mo was not really up to this hike; so I got up early and headed out at the crack of dawn, catching a beautiful sunrise through the mountains on the way up the nearly 1,000-meter ascent.

I made my way along the winding paths to a spot far back in a crevice in the mountains. By the time I reached the ghompa and shrine built in honor of Milarepa, my boots were already crunching in the snow. I wasn’t sure where the cave was but I could see prayer flags leading back further into the mountain’s crevice.

Fortunately, there was an older couple who lived at the ghompa area and they were up and making breakfast. I inquired about the cave and the old man told me it was inaccessible because of the recent snows. It was too dangerous to get there, he said.

I toyed with the idea of trying to get back there, but eventually conceded the fact that I was alone and was not prepared for hiking on snow. I abandoned the idea as a fool’s errand in favor of the seasoned mountain denizen’s stern words of warning.

I turned back and met up with Mo-Mo for breakfast. Her appetite was a little better but still not healthy.

The two of us continued on to Manang, which is less than an hour’s hike from Braga and not a noticeable change in elevation. We took the remainder of our rest day there.

That afternoon, we attended a course on Acute Mountain Sickness at the Manang health clinic and Mo-Mo confirmed that she had all the symptoms of altitude sickness. She had already started taking the medication Diamox to treat the symptoms but was not showing any signs of improvement.

Tilicho Lake – Days 6 and 7

Among the numerous side trails and optional expeditions along the Annapurna Circuit, the Tilicho Lake hike is probably the most well-known and sought after gem trekkers want to add to their lists of accomplishments.

At more than 4,900 meters, it is hailed as the world’s highest altitude lake, but it is about 10 kilometers off the main path and getting up to it is no easy task. I wasn’t sure if I was even going to attempt it, to be honest.

But Mo-Mo still was not feeling like moving up in altitude and was planning to rest a second day in Manang. She encouraged me to take the side trip and we could meet up in Yak Kharka, further up toward the Thorong La Pass the following day. I left out that morning not realizing it would be the final time I would get to see my faithful trekking companion.

I made my way westward along the side trail proceeding through Lower Karsang and Shree Kharka before the stretch through a landslide area a little before noon, after which, escalating winds make the hike more treacherous. In fact, a hiker died after being struck by a falling rock just a few days after my own passing on that stretch of the trail.

Regardless, I arrived safely at the Tilicho Base Camp and secured a bed in a dorm for the night. My original plan was to hike up to the lake that afternoon, but it was not realistic. Instead, hikers typically wake up before daybreak and do the trek in the cold of morning.

So I settled in for the evening and waited until morning to start the hike.

Among the hikers that night were David and Avi; a young British medical student named Ella, who had presented the altitude sickness course in Manang; and a couple of fellow Americans, who hailed from Montana. There were also tons of Nepali tourists who were beginning their own Diwali / Tihar holidays.

We woke at 4 a.m. that morning and were on our way by 4:30. It was dark and cold as we steadily ascended through the deepening tracks in the snow. The light in the sky was strong enough to illuminate the way up a steep series of 23 switchbacks as I steadily passed groups of slower hikers who had left out even earlier in the morning.

I was well on my way back to the home stretch leading to the lake as the sunrise breached the tops of the mountains. Watching the sun ascend over the mountain ridge brought a drop of tears to my eyes as I marveled at the majesty of nature in that moment.

Arriving at the lake at 7 a.m., I was among the first dozen hikers to reach the teahouse that morning. I warmed myself with a chai and posed for photos with Lords Buddha and Shiva before making my way back down the slope we had ascended. The downhill was considerably easier but not without its hazards as the sun was turning the previously frozen soils to a muddy slush. I made it back safely, however, followed in short order by the Montana hikers and Ella, with whom I had set out in the dark of morning. David and Avi had started later in the morning and were just beginning the steep ascent as I passed them on the way down.

I still had it in my mind to meet up with Mo-Mo at Yak Kharka later that day, which I knew would be no easy task. I had my late breakfast and hurried out to cover as much distance as possible that day.

I successfully navigated the landslide stretch and was back in Shree Kharka by early afternoon. Having had a late breakfast, I wasn’t really hungry enough to justify stopping for lunch. What I really wanted, however, was a nice cool glass of a local beverage called seabuckthorn juice, but a man outside one of the restaurants said it was not available and that he had not seen seabuckthorn berries this season.

I did stop long enough to connect to wi-fi to check my internet messages. It was there that I learned Mo-Mo had decided to turn back and would not be meeting me in Yak Kharka for the next leg of the adventure.

So I pushed forward that afternoon, a little heartbroken that the companion I had started the journey with would not be standing by my side in the obligatory selfies or writing Mo-Mo alongside my RedBirD logo in the snow at the top of the pass.

It was a beautiful path that afternoon as the kilometers fell away, but I was growing weary of the hiking and hungry from having not stopped for lunch. My primary consolation was that there was a hotel called Nirvana not far up the path that looked to be the perfect place to rest for the night.

So I made my way slowly down a steep ice-covered descent where the sun rarely penetrated as I starting seeing my first glimpses of Nirvana. I eventually crossed the suspension bridge and plopped down with a sigh into a chair on the sunny patio as the owner worked to repair a water line problem. I waited patiently for him to offer me a room or food, but the offer never came. So I approached him and inquired about lodging. Turns out a large group of tourists had just stayed and cleaned the remote hotel out of their last bit of food. They unfortunately could not accept more guests until they replenished their supplies.

The one thing he did have, however, was cold seabuckthorn juice – and some packets of Oreos, which I slathered with peanut butter and made some tasty treats that gave me just enough energy to knock out the last hour-and-a-half hike to Yak Kharka – marking a total of nearly 30 kilometers on the day.

By the time I arrived, I was exhausted and readily agreed to stop at the first hotel that offered me a room. I was the only guest there and the older woman who rented me the room cooked my pasta along with her own family’s meal. We all ate together around the cozy fire in the dining room and I read from the copy of Tom Sawyer that Mo-Mo had found in our hotel in Manang.

Thorong La Pass – Days 8 and 9

I awoke early Thursday and had my breakfast before starting onward to the final ascent to Thorong La Pass. It was a mercifully short day in terms of distance but the 800-meter climb to High Camp was rather steep. Nevertheless, I made it there before noon and secured one of the approximately 200 beds available at the final stop before the pass. They put me in a room with a 28-year-old British chap named Timothy who had also just arrived.

The trekkers filtered in throughout the day – Ella, who had also endured the grueling Tilicho to Yak Kharka day; an Arizona hiker named Anissa who had hiked the circuit on two prior occasions; Hamish, a five-star restaurant chef from the UK; James and Dale of South Africa; Jim, a translator most recently living in Bali; and numerous others made their way into the common areas of the hotel and feasted on “hand-made” noodles that were actually boxed fettuccine smothered in tomato sauce and melty cheese or Nepal’s signature dhal bhat. We hiked to the top of the 4,900-meter viewpoint and looked out over the valley we had ascended from as we waited in a sort of dread anticipation of the cold night and early morning trek that awaited us.

The night was long and sleep was scarce and troubled at the 4,850-meter camp but 4 a.m. came soon enough and we all began making our preparations to leave. I departed out the same time as Ella and we hiked to the pass together that day and would make our way down the other side of the circuit as a team in the days to come.

It was a cold couple of hours as we trekked to the 5,416-meter apex of the Thorong La Pass, but eventually we made it. My water bottle was frozen shut by that point, along with the water in the tube of my hydration bladder. I was able to open my bottle and scrape away the ice enough to have water for the descent.

We took the obligatory selfies at the top but did not linger long. I had accomplished the primary objective of the trek and was surrounded by newfound friends; my only regret was that Mo-Mo could not be there to say the same.

The hike down was slippery as one of the crampons I bought to help walk ion the snow had broken, bit we made it down below the snowline in due course, hiking a part of the day with a couple named Eric and Cathy who own a restaurant in the French Alps.

We all stopped for thenthuk soup and rhubarb juice along with the American Anissa before making our way collectively down into the town of Muktinath.

Basically everyone who was at High Camp the night before was there and we all congregated at the Bob Marley Hotel, where Ella and I had taken a room. Those who drank celebrated the triumph with beers while those of us who do not drink found comfort in organic Nepali coffee and the warm bonds of friendships forged by a common shared experience. Eventually, the revelry died down and we all retired for the night at what could be considered a quite tame hour.

Biking the West Side – Days 10 and 11

In the days leading up to the crossing of the pass, I had heard about a service in Muktinath that rented mountain bikes to ride down the western side of the circuit, which is largely along a dusty road. I was seriously considering this option and when I told Ella about it on our trek, she was quite game for it as well.

So we traded our heavy trekking packs for Trek bicycles and day packs provided by Mustang Outback Adventures and started the next leg of our adventure. The first few kilometers fell away like the breeze as we cruised down the well-paved road between Muktinath and Kagbeni, where we took a detour to the north to see a town called Tiri in the Lower Mustang Valley. It is the closest point trekkers can come to the restricted Mustang region without obtaining a costly permit.

Despite warnings that winds south of Kagbeni made riding less than pleasant in the afternoons, we stopped for lunch at the quaint mountain town before heading headlong into the dusty gales.

We made our way slowly and methodically to Jomsom, where we stopped for a breather. I picked up some pani puri (a street food of small fried balls that are cracked open and filled with a stuffing before the consumer of the snack adds a salty liquid) and offered some to Ella, not realizing she had never tried the whimsical snack. I think this provided our mountain biking duo with just enough humour to make the final dusty 7 kilometers between Muktinath and Marpha bearable.

That evening, we explored the village near the lovely little hotel Ella had found. We made our way to Marpha’s active monastery where some young monks were mounting a flag outside. Inside, their fellow monks were preparing for a chanting session that would begin just a few minutes after our arrival. We took seats inside the chamber as the monks began to chant.

I sat meditatively and listened to the musical intonations of the mantras the young men were chanting as they played the dung chen horns and a variety of drums, cymbals and other percussion instruments. My mind drifted blissfully to this Saturday evening concert that seemed to resonate with all the grandeur of the massive pass we had just crossed to reach this point in space and time.

When the music stopped, I made a small donation to the monastery and proceeded back to the hotel. Ella had already left and was trying some of the local apricot brandy, which she likened to nail polish remover. She had also ordered some chapati, which we ate with local apricot jam that was sweet and tasteful, unlike the spirit Ella left half full in front of her throughout the meal.

We retired for the night after preparing for the second day of our mountain bike adventure.

The ride was all downhill that day, but the road was rough and rocky. It was a true mountain bike experience in all regards – not the singe track riding I had tried when I first learned to ride a bicycle at age 41, but a wide mountain road with lots of bumps, mud puddles and the occasional waterfall crossing. There were also some nice paved sections that gave us the opportunity to rest our bums, which were taking a beating on the hard bicycle seats.

During one stretch, we also left the main trail for a ride through a village called ???. At the end of this path, we stopped for a snack on some dried fruits I had bought in Muktinath as a local man strummed his guitar on a staircase near our stone perch.

Like many jeep and bus-loads of tourists, we stopped to take pictures at Rupse Waterfall, but otherwise, the kilometers fell away quickly and we had arrived in the town of Tatopani where we were to turn our bicycles in and get our packs back.

The Poon Hill Trek – Days 11 through 13

In the days leading up to our arrival at Tatopani, Benjamin, whom I had met previously in Dharmashala, had contacted me. He was in Pokhara and looking to do a trek. We agreed that he should meet us in Tatopani that Sunday and the timing of his arrival coincided almost exactly with our own.

It turns out he had met Ella briefly at a hostel in Kathmandu. The three of us planned to hike over the next couple of days to Poon Hill, which offers amazing sunrise views of Annapurna I, Annapurna South, Dhaulagiri and the sacred peak Machupucchre.

But first, we had to visit the hot springs for which Tatopani is named. It was basically a public bath, where we bought shampoo for 5 rupees and washed our hair for the first time in weeks. We were joined by Hamish and a Kiwi named Geoffery, whom Benjamin had struck up a conversation with at the hot springs, for dinner at a local joint before we called it a night. David and Avi, who were also in Tatopani that night, also stopped to say hello.

The following morning, Ella, Benjamin and I set out, running again across David and Avi on the way out of town. The day proved to be a steep climb of about 1,300 meters up to the town of Ghorepani, which is just a few kilometers below Poon Hill. We made the climb, stopping for a lunch of noodles with David and Avi at a small mountain site along the trek and tea and coffee at another spot with a beautiful sunny view just before the final push into Ghorepani.

We set up shop for the night as local residents gambled and played music in streets as part of the ongoing Diwali / Tihar celebrations.

That morning, we woke up before 5 a.m., along with droves of other ecotourists, and made our way up the steep path to the Poon Hill viewpoint. Despite the mass of people, it was a stunning view as the sun rose above the horizon and cast its illuminating rays upon the eastern faces of the snow-capped mountains. Even though this 3,200-meter viewpoint was nowhere near the highest point we climbed on this trek, it was like we had reached a peak that marked the culmination of all the climbing we had endured to get that far.

After we descended, I had a final breakfast with Ella, who was preparing to head due south to catch a bus so she could get back to Kathmandu fly back to England. We bid our farewells in the hotel dining room and Benjamin and I prepared to set off for two more days of hiking.

I thought that day, which took us overall downhill from Ghorepani to Ghandruk, would be an easy one, but by the time we had finished, we had completed over 1,000 meters of ascent and even greater descent over nearly 20 kilometers, according to the altimeter on Benjamin’s watch.

We were tired and ready to rest when we reached a suitable hotel at Ghandruk, which was bustling with continued local holiday celebrations.

Waking up on Cloud 9 – Day 14

When we awoke on the final day of the hike, we had a beautiful view of the Annapurna and Machupucchre peaks from the garden of our hotel, which was aptly named the Cloud Guesthouse.

We had a quiet breakfast in the garden and took photos with the Nepali flag from the rooftop before beginning our final day of hiking. We debated whether to take the full up-and-down 16-kilometer trek through Landruk and the Australian Camp that marks the mapped final leg of the Annapurna Circuit but decidedly ultimately to head south and catch a local bus bak to Pokhara.

When we arrived at the town, we learned that the only bus on that holiday day had just left, but if we ran fast, we might be able to catch it. We could hear the warbling horn of the bus up ahead; so we ran as fast as we could with our packs on our backs to try to catch it. We came around a bend and spied it just up ahead, stopped and waiting for another vehicle to squeeze by on a hairpin turn. The ticket taker saw us running and held up the bus long enough that we could board.

The bus ride was a merciful two and a half hours, with only the first hour of bumpy mountain roads before we arrived back in Pokhara.

I am not sure how to conclude this epic blog post at this point. I have rambled on enough, but I feel as if I would be remiss to not attempt to offer some eloquent reflection on the experience and its deeper meaning in the context of this journey that I am on. It all still feels a little to raw for that at this point, however.

What I can say is that I now have a new and fascinating set of experiences that will be etched into the fabric of my memory – at least as long as this human body endures – and a karmic experience that will endure even beyond this body.

And even though I will probably never see most of the fascinating people I encountered on this trek again in these human forms, I know I have been incredibly blessed to call them friends and co-adventurers on this experience.

I look back on that final morning of the trek as if I had just awoken from a beautiful dream and was looking at the world from high atop Cloud 9.