Memories are the threads of the cosmos. What ties me to my yesterdays, my last years, my ten years ago aren’t my experiences, but my memories of my experiences. If with the dawn of each new day our memories of yesterday were to go up in smoke, would we be able change over time? Or would the times merely change while we remain exactly where we were when we were thrown into this world?
Our destination for day 2 was this place called Seri, which is about 400 metres higher than Panduropa, our campsite for day 1. After a night of constantly waking up because of the loud sounds of horses and mules munching on grass right outside our tent (those hungry bastards), we left Panduropa at about 8:30am. The beginning portion of day 2’s trail involved ascending through a slightly steep stampede of rocks. Within the first 15 minutes, I was already panting. Eventually, the ascent levelled out and the rocks cleared into a meadow within which several cricket stadiums can fit. We set up camp at the extreme end of this meadow and close to the foot of a mountain that we would have to work our way through the next day.
Before making it to camp though, we had to take off our hiking boots and wade through the calf level waters of a freezing cold stream. Those cold waters knocked the air right out of my lungs.
Although it was only day 2, I was already feeling the difference between this expedition and Everest Base Camp, which I went for in 2017. This was the kind of terrain and altitude that I only started to see 4 days into the trail at Everest Base Camp (EBC). Moreover, on the trail to EBC, there were always people around us and small lodges and stuff. Over here, it was just us, our tents and the supplies that we carried along with us on mules.
Although Everest Base Camp is at a higher altitude, this particular trail was harder and more intense. That was definitely something that I didn’t foresee, because I always thought that higher the trail, the harder the climb.
As I sat in my tent writing this entry in my journal, small droplets of moisture pitter-pattered on my tent’s roof. In the distance, a waterfall sang its perpetual lullaby and my sleeping bag invited me into its warm embrace. The mules that came along with us were on the other end of the meadow. Good, at least I wouldn’t hear them munching on grass tonight.
On day 3, our journey would take us to Tainta, the base camp of both Jagatsukh peak and Deo Tibba, a 6001m giant. Stay tuned for the next entry!