Back to the mountains

The Nehru Institute of Mountaineering (NIM) is one of four government mountaineering institutes in India.  It is heavily subsidized, and teaches everyone from lowlanders who have never seen the mountains to those who grew up in the Himalayan foothills the skills of mountaineering.  Three- and four-week basic, advanced, and search-and-rescue courses begin with walking uphill and end with technical climbing and rescue techniques.

I had originally planned to hike up to meet two of the courses - a basic course and a search-and-rescue course that a friend was on - but my delay by injury meant the courses were on their way back.  But despite my imposed physical limitations, I was well 

received and made a great connection with the Vice Principal, one Major Thapa, who I look forward to working with in the future.  We had time to discuss many aspects of the climbing establishment in India and, more importantly in the short term, arrangements for me to return in the fall to work with one of the courses as a guest instructor.

Friend Sujay's search-and-rescue graduation formalities included the display of ceremonial NIM sweaters, a rite of passage he had experienced twice before on the basic and advanced courses.  Nice!

With some of my readily available time to myself, I walked down to the market in town.  Four women who had been walking around NIM earlier met up with me and invited me to their house the next day after a friendly, if quiet-ish walk downhill.  Why not?  

Her house turned out to be one of those two room affairs tucked next to the market road, one room for everyone to sleep and the other to cook.  Her family was either gone or kicked out, and the afternoon was spent looking at pictures of their family and friends and utilizing their limited-but-much-better-than-my-Hindi English to exchange basic life stats.  They are all about 24 and unmarried, and traditionally generous to their visiting guest.  The ceiling turned out to be a little low for me (probably wasn't planned with 6-foot foreigners in mind!), but the company was fun, and I look forward to seeing them on future trips to NIM and the town of Uttarkashi.

Intermission

I decided to postpone the mountains for a week so as not to tempt myself into further injury, so instead went to Bangalore for a week of rest and visiting friends I met on last year's mountain bike race. My last visit involved lots of running and cycling, but this time I'm fairly boring - "resting" isn't quite as glamorous and definitely not as conducive to good pictures. (See, you all want me to get better, too! ;-) I'm finally seeing some progress in healing, so will try to persevere in the resting effort. *wry grin*

So instead, more impressions of the crazy mishmash that is the cities of India:

One of my friends noted that if you wanted to bring the US to its knees you wouldn't need terrorists. Just abduct 10 Indian auto-rickshaw drivers (the ever-present three-wheeled open-air taxis) and set them loose on our roads. Then sit back and watch the crippling chaos. Just imagine trying to drive in a city full of them...

At the relatively healthy food market nearby, I can get a half-pound of red grapes, eight little Kerala bananas, four local oranges, and a miniature cantelope, all amazingly tasty, for 99 rupees, about two dollars. The same money gets you a tea at Coffee Day, trendy cafes modeled after the coffee shops I'm accustomed to at home. A muffin will be another family supply of fruit, please.

The autorickshaw driver stopped at a shop on my way back from central Bangalore this afternoon to buy oil for his vehicle's two-stroke engine. The oil-wallah filled his empty oil container from one of four juice pitchers on the counter holding different types of oil. I love that there's an everyday bypassing of the excess packaging we can't let go of in the US. On the other hand, the practicality of this arrangement is potentially offset by the likelihood that the oil is dirty, or sub-standard, contributing to the incredibly high levels of the pollution in the city.

What to do. I love many of the chaotic overtones of daily life here, their difference from the sometimes restrictive or excessive habits of the US. But I'm finally listening to my friends' observations of the negative aspects of their continuous practice. No place is perfect - I guess we just have to find the balance we're willing to put up with and keep trying to make it better...

Up and down

Up to Sikkim!  Whirlwind flights and buses landed me in Gangtok, launching point for another mountain biking event in this tiny Indian state tucked up against Nepal, Tibet/China, and Bhutan.  Late, of course, due to little information on schedules and transportation in any event literature.  But in time for dinner and meeting up with many people from last fall's MTB Himachal, putting my bike together, and preparing for the next day's start.

After the usual speeches and bagpipe band, we wound through curving mountain streets until spitting rain and the realization that we were ahead of the guide vehicles (and off route) drove us under whatever eaves were nearby.  An hour, much confusion, and two false starts later, we arrived at the starting point for the first timed stage.  This is the second year of the race, and things were still not worked out properly.  Start times were 4 minutes apart to ensure good timekeeping and rider spacing.  But with two at a time, 50 riders, and 10-minute gaps between categories, that meant the last people were waiting for 2 hours!  Cold and bored...  Things were better next tim, but some folks still got in after dark.

The second day was nicer, and a little smoother, but I managed to get not one but two flats on the downhill race stage, the only kind of terrain I have any chance of getting a decent time on!  Sheesh.  That's as many flats as I've had in all my cycling days!  Then a long uphill race stage, followed by another big uphill grind to camp.  Are we having fun yet?  I elected to ride in the Army truck once done with the racing.  Yup, wussed out.

By this time, however, my lower ribs, strained by so much coughing recovering from bronchitis, had worsened from the exertion of mountain biking (OK, and skiing, but it didn't bother them much at the time!). I didn't want to quit, but sneezes were excruciating and it was starting to affect day-to-day activities, like lying down to sleep.  No more riding for me.  Boo.  I lent my bike to someone with a really crappy cycle for the rest of the ride and gathered emails from some of the various Indian, Canadian, etc riders that are the real reason I come here...

But to distract from that: as I was riding in the support vehicle the next day, taking a rest/decision day, a friend that I had finally met on this ride had a bad crash.  Arriving on the scene before the ambulance, which never actually came, I and several other people ascertained that nothing was life-threatening, but definitely messy.  Knees, elbows, side, and particularly face were pretty well scraped, and half of one front tooth gone!  The army doctor eventually arrived to treat him there, and a visit to the local hospital finished cleaning him up.

With Harsh out of commission and headed back to Delhi, I decided to follow to discourage myself from foolishly opting back in.  After the drive back to Gangtok, we were able to take a chopper back to the Bagdogra airport for only Rs 2000, about $40!  Nice views, though the high Himalayan mountains so close to Everest were clouded in.

Back in Delhi, I've gone to a recommended doctor who frowned, ruled out cracked ribs with an x-ray, and basically said I'd pulled all my lower rib muscles.  Rest until they get better - nothing that uses them.  Huh.  That's pretty much everything I do, and definitely out of line with my scheduled activities!  But I have to be completely better by the time I'm scheduled to work again in early May, so hopefully that motivation will keep me in line.  Ah - travel, reading, and sitting around eating too much, my favorite.  I'm still going up north to Uttarkashi to meet with some mountaineering institute folks about future work/collaboration - I'll just be careful... *grin*

Solang

...is a beautiful mountain retreat from the dust of Delhi, just outside the resort town of Manali. At 8500', it accesses peaks to 14,000' from the front door (that's a long day hike, but lots of ski turns!), and higher stuff with a few days' travel. Despite the low snow year there was plenty of good skiing, you just had to hike for it. And the mountain air has (almost) finally kicked the last of the lingering cough. Whew!

After a dayhike or two to acclimatize, Lin, Larry and I lugged our own gear up for a camping/skiing trip on Mt Patalsu. We set up camp in a beautiful a ski-in, ski-out location at 10,500' on dry leaves right next to the snow - nice to be fully out of civilization. Three days of skiing sun-softened spring snow tired out Balu the now-Delhi-based dog. She hasn't seen snow for a while!

The next trip was fully supported - carrying heavy loads is fine, but if someone else can do it... Four porters and a guide (Rinku) joined us for another 3-day camp on Brigu Peak, this time with a big tent and fresh veggies, dinner and tea provided. A rolling pin for the chapatti flatbread, iron handtool for digging platforms - these guys don't mess around. And they didn't use the backpack's shoulder straps - instead wrapped a wide strap around Lin's pack and carried it traditionally on their heads!

Lin and Larry headed back to Delhi while I stayed for a couple more days of skiing and socializing with new and old friends there. Sunil and Ravi and Khem and I skied/boarded Gulaba peak, up one of the most harrowing roads I've survived (and there are a lot here!), complete with one-hour delay because a frontloader was, well, reconstructing the road. It took a couple tries, but the Gypsy truck did make it out... A beautiful day with great people.

A mad dash to the bus following lunch with the same folks, and a trust-requiring 13-hour bus later, I landed back in Delhi in that dim orange sunrise that comes from so much dust in the air. Funny to stuff my skis in the back of an auto-rickshaw here...

Manali/Solang is growing on me, and I might have to find a way to spend more time there. I'm looking forward to skiing next winter, hopefully with more snow!

Layover in Delhi

Ah, travel. For fun and profit, yes, but currently blurring the line of fun. Though not taking care of myself is my own fault! Mostly over the bronchitis from Aconcagua, I've caught a nasty head cold on the plane to make up for it. My four days in Delhi have involved a lot of sleeping and wishing this cough would hurry up and go away. Sigh.

But it's spring here, so the scent and sight of flowers is wonderful - my October visits didn't afford such luxuries. And the exchange rate is at an all-time high/low - 51.8 rupees to the dollar, which makes my surviving this trip on tips from Aconcagua much more likely.

I got to catch up with a few friends here - lunch with Darvesh, tea with Dickie, and an evening gathering of several riders from last year's Himachal bike race. Fascinating conversations for those of us still trying to figure this place out - the nature of Bengalis, assignment of irresponsible development blame, the significance of hindi script on sweets.

Tonight Lin and I head north to the Himalayan foothills in Solang, just north of Manali, for some backcountry skiing. There's eventually going to be a short lift at the local ski slope, but it's been scheduled for opening "next year" for about ten years...

...in between...

OK, so monster colds don't get better with the Mendoza treatment - staying up til 4am at the cafes and drinking lots of wine. But it sure is fun! After a few nights with our climbers and another group from the mountain, we spent a few nights in with a tasty spread of fresh fruit and tapas - little bites of olives, cheeses, etc. Enjoy where you are...

Back in Seattle, I thought I gave myself enough time to do taxes, take care of life stuff, and get ready to go again - ha! Managed to see some long-neglected friends in Port Townsend, though, a perfect welcome back to the Pacific Northwest. I love those quintessential Seattle moments - pulling away from the ferry dock, city lights on shore, mild night breeze bringing scent of salt water and seaweed. Nice to be home, if only briefly.

It had been beautiful weather in Seattle for the last week, and started raining the moment I touched down. But a night on my friends' boat brought another nice day and just enough time to stand on the rocky beach. A new front suspension fork on my bike, a few beers shared with friends, and taxes mostly done, I'm off for another 24-hour-plus flight itinerary back to India. Looking forward to riding, skiing, and whatever else!

Well done

1) Congratulations.  2) Finished for the season.  3) Fully cooked.  

Really, all of the above.

The trip was good.  Five climbers and three guides (his private trip was cancelled, so another joined us) spent three days walking to base camp in crazy windy weather (but not snow like last time!).  Our third guide walked out from base camp with one climber, and the rest of us continued up the mountain in usually good weather to camp three (19,200' or 5800m).  Ben and another climber descended to wait at the ending base camp while I continued to camp four (20,500' or 6200m) with the remaining three climbers.

Summit day was beautiful.  It snowed overnight, but we had an amazing sunrise with no wind and the clouds settled below us.  A group came up from a lower camp to break trail just as we started out, and the many commercial and private teams scheduled to summit that day moved smoothly up and down the mountain.  We stood on top about 2:15 and descended just ahead of the snow and wind that moved in that afternoon.

The air is thin at the summit - in millibars, the atmosphere at sea level is about 1012mb pressure.  At the top of Aconcagua, it was 425.  Less than half the available oxygen.  If you flew someone to the top from sea level, they would be dead in 10 minutes.  

Yet if you spend 2 weeks carrying heavy packs, breathing hard, and camping your way to 22,834' (6960m), you can stand on top with no more than a slight headache, if that.  Amazing how the human body adjusts.  But the top of Aconcagua is about the elevation that climbers start to use oxygen on Everest and other places.  It is dangerous mostly because people underestimate it.

Back in Mendoza now, I'm fighting off a wicked cold that has gone around our team, and hoping that I get real health insurance before the part of my nose that always burns turns into melanoma.  Relatively unscathed, and only 3 lbs lighter than when we started (people usually lose 8-15 lbs), I'm looking forward to fresh fruit, another shower, and finishing all my paperwork.  It's nice to be back...