I've been baptized in dirt! (Afghanistan)
All of that paled in comparison to the pain and discomfort we felt from sitting on bad, or no seats, having our knee's dig into the seat in front of us (sharp metal bars many times) and going air born with every bump, hole or stone in the road! Sometimes we couldn't move our legs for six to eight hours at a time and we could never stretch them. We had all been traveling in Asia for a while at that point (well over a year) and had been on countless chicken buses, with little to no leg room, but with the heat, the dirt and the long stretches of driving with nothing to look forward to (no cold drinks at the next stop and no showers at night) and the pain of being stuck in some advanced Yoga position, with metal digging into your knees and people puking out the windows, nothing had prepared us for this test of endurance (since, that's kind of what it turned into).
So, there's the background info, now I can fill you all in on where we went after Band-e Amir, and now you know all about our happy times driving there.
We finally talked a driver into taking the four of us to the next village, Yakawlang. The mini-van was already full, but we knew if we didn't catch this ride now, we'd have to wait a week untill the next Friday, when all the Afghani tourists come to the lake, to get our next chance. So, we all did our Yoga in order to fit inside of the vehicle and were baptized for the first time (Oh no.... but not the last!) in our lives... with dirt! Still though, we were excited to move on to a new and different village and we were still in Afghanistan, so we knew that anything could happen at any moment. Upon our arrival at Yakawlang, I (since I was getting sicker) sat with the backpacks, while all of my friends split up to see what, if anything was in this village, but primarily to find a ChaiKhana. Those same routines would be repeated over the next few days as we kept arriving in new villages, with someone different standing watch over our foriegn looking backpacks.
Anyway, while my friends were gone, word had quickly spread thoughout the village that some weird looking whitey's had arrived. Within minutes, it seemed every male in the village, young and old had come out to see the "whitey's". They formed a huge circle around me and since they don't understand the "comfortable space" between two strangers, that we all take for granted in this part of the world, they got "all up in my Grill!" They were innocently curious though, but it didn't take them long to come to the conclusion (since I had a Taliban worthy beard at that point) that I looked like a homeless-hippy-terrorist! Anyway, my friends had to push people out of the way like they were in a mosh pit, in order to tell me that the head man (police/political head) wanted to talk to all of us before we stayed or moved on.
So, we met the boss man and he tried his hardest to look more important and powerful than we all suspected he really was, but he was nice and respectful to us. Sharing a pot of tea with us he just wanted to know who we were and what we were doing there. When I told him I was American he just couldn't understand why I didn't hire a car in Kabul, since I was rich! In his defense, from Yakawlang westward to Herat, buses are non-existant and flying coaches (mini-vans) are few and very far between. There aren't many backpackers on a budget here and no one just shows up in some village and waits for the next flying coach to come along. Almost every tourist rents a private car, or sticks to the main roads between Kabul and Mazar-E Sharif, or the okay road from Kabul to Bamiyan and a bit further maybe to Band-e Amir. So waiting hours, sometimes days for a ride turned out to be part of the Afghani backpacking experience. Both of these processes too (meeting the head dude and waiting for a ride) would end up repeating themselves again, every time we arrived at a new village. And so it was that in every mud hut, village or town from Band-e Amir westward to Herat, (well, actually Yakawlang, Panjab, La'lva Sar Jangal, Gardani Garmab Pass and Chaghcharan) an Australian, Chinese/Canadian, German and American traveling together, all beat up, sick, skinny, dirty and smelly, met the power drunk man in charge of each his own territory and impressed upon them the superior cleanliness of the developed world.
Anyway, by the time we got to Lal (La'lva Sar Jangal), Sue the Chinese/Canadian, was ready to give up. Not only did he get food poisoning (or something just like it), but he was also being eaten alive from bed bugs and flea's, so adding the baptism of dirt, the bland food (the same everywhere... never want cotton seed oil again!!) and the terrible roads didn't help much! The rest of us were sore, and running very low on Afghani's. To boost our moral level we finally found a well that wasn't surrounded with woman (not that WE cared) and we each washed up there. Not a shower, but damn it was nice. The woman were beautiful in this part of the country too. The only time we would get a glimpse was while they were washing dishes or clothes at the wells. They didn't wear Burka's in that part of the country and usually didn't even cover their faces. Their eye's were beautiful and their hair style only added to their beauty . They braided their hair, wrapped it around their head and clipped it across their forehead and their clothing had, what I can only describe as a Tibetan style to it.
Gardani Garmab Pass (they just say Garmab) was our next stop, it was only three hours (125 Kilometers) away and 100 Afghani's each. It wasn't very far, but it was so hard to find any ride westward that we got all excited and we always clung to the hope that we would catch a direct ride to Herat at the next village. A bigger than normal crowd formed instantly in Garmab and they were right up in our faces again, they were so close to us that we couldn't even bend over to fix our sandals. Within minutes a young cop broke through the crowd saying that he just recieved a phone call from La'l (the head dude that we checked in with there). The kid cop (no older than 15) told us "you are very dangerous, you must leave now!", I think he meant that the town was dangerous? Anyway, not missing a beat, we all told him "Yes! We're very dangerous, kick us out now! Get us a ride to Herat!!!" We told him to ask a nearbye truck driver (who was leaving anyway) to take us and we would sit on the roof, but the driver wanted too much money and riding on the roof in Afghanistan wouldn't be fun! We were kidding around for a while after that about us being such bad asses that we got kicked out of a town in Afghanistan!!
The next day would be our lucky day, we found a driver willing to take us the rest of the way to Herat! Thank you Allah! We were all relieved about the ride, no more waiting for hours or days, plus after we paid I had only 50 Afghani's to my name (one doller) and just 9 days left on my visa, great timing! Our moods quickly changed when it came time to find a seat and saw that there were already 12 people, plus their luggage inside the tiny vehicle! This was gonna be Bad! We had a broken seat, no cushion under us and metal bars (from the seats in front of us) digging into our knees, and we weren't even moving yet! We ended up driving 7 hours the first day, 15 the second and 5 the third! I will speak no more of my feelings in that vehicle! The one bright spot from that whole drive came when we passed a jeep that had a flat tire and no jack. Our driver, knowing that it could be a long time before another car comes along, did exactly what he should have, he stopped to help change the tire. We all ran out of the Van and streched and kissed the dirt, we were so thankful to change positions! One by one we looked around and noticed a field with a few farmers close by. Then, almost all at once we noticed that it wasn't just some regular field, it was an Poppy field! We all ran towards it, looking for red rocks (land mines), but didn't see any. We had a close look at the Poppy plants and the farmer had a huge smile on his face (way too happy to be working in the sun all day...). We took pictures with the Poppies and the farmers, closely examined the plants and we could see where the farmers cut the poppy to let a soft tar like fluid run out. That (I think) is pure Opium and after they process it, it becomes the devil...Heroin! I wish we had more time there, but as soon as we arrived at the field, our driver was yelling to us to come back. We made him wait a couple of minutes, acting like we didn't hear him, but making sure he didn't try to drive away with out us, not that we couldn't run faster than he was driving though.
In a nut shell, that was how we got from Band-E Amir to Herat. The landscape got greener and greener the closer we came to Herat and the people that only a couple of hundred kilometers east looked Tajik or Uzbek (almost Mongolian looking), now looked more and more like what I expected Afghani's to look like, rounder faces with out the super high cheek bones. That was the end of three of the hardest days traveling I think I've ever had (starting back in Garmab), being as sick as I was (running behind a building after every stop, looking for a suitable place to make a toilet) and not being able to eat didn't help much either, the lack of water resulted in me becoming dehydrated as well! Lots of fun! Still though, when we finaly rolled up onto smooth pavement for the first time in over two weeks, we would have welcomed any city, no matter how dirty, with open arms. But, it didn't take us long to realize that Herat was anything but dirty. It was almost clean and it managed to maintain it's charm and an identity in a country that was almost totally destroyed by constant war, that was a sweet surprise.
Then I slept...
Bamiyan (Afghanistan)
Desert plains roll into hills and then turn into mountains. The occasional shepherd will be seen blocking the whole rode with his entire flock of fat tailed sheep as well. Fat Tailed Sheep are the best, right up there with Water Buffalo. They have the biggest asses anywhere! They can hang with the best of them (in fact they are the best of them), their booty shakes with every step and it didn't take us long to start yelling out cat calls and whistling as we passed. The driver finally understood what we were doing (took him a while) and didn't hide his amusement, but the shepherds never quite got it. During one trafic jam (sheep crossing) we jumped out and started taking close up shots of their boo-tay! The shepherd got kind of pissed off and to avoid having him chop off one of our limbs we dove back in the van with our tails between our legs! As we got close to Bamiyan our driver yelled out Zohak! and pointed to a near by fort built on the top of a steep hill face. A lot of the walls were still intact and some structures still remained. We all wanted to come back and check out Zohak before we left Bamiyan.
We finally arrived in Bamiyan after 10 hours of bumps and dirt. It's a very small, clean, and well kept town. Bamiyan is home to the Hazara people (they were the main targets of attempted genocide by the Taliban) and former home of the largest Buddha statue in the world until the Taliban destroyed them (the statue's) with army tanks! We stayed at Mama Najaf (250 Afghani's each), a restaurant for the bus drivers and some locals, with three empty rooms upstairs built onto the roof. We all packed into one and they gave us cushions and blankets to sleep on. There was a killer toilet on the roof too(next to our rooms), they pretty much built four walls and cut a hole in the roof. Down below was a new unmarked land mine zone (toxic, but not deadly)! We had great views from the roof top though. We could see the whole mountain side, a huge, flat, wall of a rock face with little black dots (caves) all over it and two big niche's carved into it, were the Buddha's used to be.
Although the Taliban destroyed the statue's, the Buddha niche's are still there as well as an elaborate network of caves, in which some people still call there homes. Unfortunately, the whole area (as well as much of the country) was carpeted with land mines, and only recently have some area's been de-mined. It's easy to tell if your in the mine zone though, red painted rocks mean live land mine area's and white rocks mean the area has been de-mined. We all went our own ways while at the niche's. I climbed up into some caves and checked them out and met a few family's who still call some of the larger caves their home. We all met up at the niche that used to hold the smaller of the two Buddhas and took our time walking back into town through a peaceful, old village.
After two or three laid back days, Jacques and I decided to hitch a ride back to Zohak. We had read a little about Zohak in our room. We copied some pages of an old Lonely Planet Central Asia guide book while in Pakistan (that's what we used to get through Afghanistan) and next to the Bamiyan section there was a small write up about Zohak. Which really made us want to check it out, I've since found this about Zohak...
Written by Nancy Hatch Dupree- "An Historical Guide to Afghanistan"
"This mass of impressive ruins was once the principal fortress protecting the entrance to the City of Bamiyan during the reigns of the Shansabani Kings in the 12-13th centuries A.D. The natural defenses afforded by the cliff had been recognized from much earlier times, as might well be expected. Archaeologists have found evidence that man had built defensive works here as early as the end of the B.C. era, and, when the Hephthalite Huns fought for possession and power within these mountains in the 6th century A.D., there was a considerable complex here. The present remains, however, are those of the fortress which withstood the advance of a Mongol army led by Genghis Khan's favorite grandson in 1221. The resistance was stout and determined and during the melee on the plain at its foot, the young commander fell mortally wounded. In revenge Genghis Khan vowed to destroy the valley, which he did, most thoroughly.
Today's visitors enter the fortress via the very pathway used by the original defenders and one can easily envision the passage of mounted cavalry, with all the attendant sounds, smells and confusion. On the way are attractively decorated towers for guards on duty. These towers had no doorways but were entered by ladders which were pulled up later to make the tower totally secure. There the soldiers stood on wooden platforms laid on heavy supporting beams, and shot their arrows through loopholes.
...city-fortress of glowing magenta, atop such cliffs, must of necessity have inspired romantics with tales of legendary kings and heroes. So it is not surprising to learn from the inhabitants of Bamiyan that this was actually, in fact, the royal abode of Zohak. A wilder occupant for this fairyland city could hardly be found.
Zohak first appears in the Shahnama as a noble prince of Arabia, a devoted son well-beloved by his people. He became, however, possessed of the Devil who induced him to usurp his father's throne whereupon the Devil appeared disguised as a loyal subject who asked to kiss the new king on the shoulders in token of his complete submission. No sooner had he done so, and vanished, than two black serpents thrust their heads out from where the kisses had been placed. Attempts to cut them off only resulted in their immediate return and their increased demand for human brains, the only food they would accept.
At the same time that Zohak was being seduced by the Devil, civil war broke out in Iran and Zohak marched in as the champion of one faction and was enthroned as the emperor of Iran. For a thousand years his rule brought terror and chaos to the land, but then the hero Fraidun was born. After many escapades, Fraidun finally succeeded in taking Zohak prisoner whereupon he took the dragon-king to a far off mountain peak and left him there to die. The Shahnama ends the tale here but, typically, Afghan legend goes on to elaborate by saying that, deprived of their daily meal of brains, the serpents turned on Zohak, bit into his scalp and fed upon his brains until he died."
Anyway, it was great exploring the ruins, but getting back to Bamiyan was much harder than getting out. We waited at a police check point and when the cops finished asking the drivers and passengers questions we would ask if we could catch a lift back with them. Every vehicle was full (it probably didn't help that I looked like Bin Laden at the time either), but after a couple of hours we finally met some friendly guys who were nice enough to let us pack into the back of their SUV. After our visit to Zohak and the occasional chat with some Kiwi Army personel, we were ready to head off to Band-e Amir The killer, deep blue lakes further west...
Peshawar to Kabul (Afghanistan)
We left Peshawar (Pakistan) early in the morning, took a local bus (tourists aren't supposed to but...) and crossed the Khyber Pass. That was great and you could feel the wildness of the area. Old forts dotted the horizen of the unforgiving land and it felt like an adventure just driving through, even on a bus. There was a feeling in the air there that I can't really describe (more so in Kabul), maybe it's the history of violence and wildness of the country and people, or maybe just the scars of war left drifting in the air??? I'm not sure, but it was a feeling unlike any other country I've been to.
Anyway, somewhere after Jalalabad (on our way to Kabul) traffic stopped altogether. I think there was road work being done (Allah knows they need it). So, we all got out of the bus and had some tea. Five or ten minutes later there was a bunch of yelling and a big crowd forming. A kid on our bus spoke some English and told us that "the police were stealing money from the truck drivers and now they're (the truck drivers) all angry!" A minute later a nice, new military pickup went flying by in the direction of the crowd, two soldiers jumped out and grabbed a police officer and drove him back to about 15 feet from us. The soldiers were yelling at him and tried to put him in the back of their truck, but he fought. The soldiers ended up slapping him and he jumped back and pointed his machine gun at a soldiers face. Somehow they said the right thing and they ended up throwing the police man in the back! The crowd cheered as they drove away and I was shocked to think that justice had been done in the middle of an Afghani desert. The soldiers came across as well restrained and very professional, they actually defused the situation! That was a surprise.
Afghanistan has, by far, the worst roads I've been on. From Kandahar in the south, up to Kabul in the middle and further on to Mazar-e Sharif in the north, the roads are pretty new and smooth. Beyond that the roads are either terrible or non-existant! So, by the time we got into Kabul, just after sunset, our backs were sore and we were pretty dirty. Entering Kabul, for the first time, in the night time was was cool!! People were running around all over the place and traffic was crazy. The guy that spoke English on our bus walked us through a bazaar and showed us the area that has hotels (thank you Allah). It would have been pretty hard to find in the dark with outhim.
We found three hotels pretty close by, but none of them would let us stay (no tourists). Finally one said we could stay, but changed the price as we were about to check in, then said they were full. We all got mad and wanted to hold them to the first price we were given, but the guy was rude and wouldn't listen. So, we all just sat on the front steps of the hotel and I spread out a sheet and laid down. The receptionist ended up calling the police and we explained that (now) this hotel is full (that's what the receptionist changed his story to) and none of the other hotels will let us stay without some kind of permit. The cop walked us over to the nearest hotel and made a deal with that receptionist allowing us to stay, as long as we left by 8 in the morning. The next day we stayed at the Park Hotel for $10 each, the most the three of us had paid for a hotel in a long, long time!
Kabul was already a great experience though. Just walking around and checking out different markets and watching their different way of life was fun and new. I thought that I had witnessed optimism amongst the people (I could be mistaken though) as well. It seemed that they were eager to get on with their lives after so much war and misery for so long. Over 1,000,000 people were killed during the Russian invasion! And after the Russians left, things actually got worse! Afghani's are amazing people and the rest of us should check our heads the next time we start complaining about our standard of living!
Anyway, we're out of here. We're heading off to Bamian to check out the Buddha niche's (where the largest Buddha statue in the world was until the Taliban destroyed them) and hang out with some Hazara's! Write when I get the chance...
Snowblind at K-2 base camp (Pakistan)
OK, so now for a bit of an update. Pakistan rules!!! Almost no tourists and the few that are here are pretty hard core and interesting. I've spent most of my time in the north and it's amazing. Untouched and CHEAP!! Depending on where I'm at I can live on 150 RS. (60rs = 1 dollar) per day! Swat Valley, Fairy meadows, Kalash Valley and Hunza are all amazing, green, fairytale type places with some of the friendliest people I've met anywhere in the world!!!
The Kalash people (Kalash valley) are great. No one knows much about them, but most think that they are decedents of Alexander the Greats army. They're about to disappear and are stuck in a small area (not even one full valley), but remain super friendly. I only stayed in one guest house in the week that I explored the valley. The rest of the time I stayed with family's, and they're whitey's, so it's very strange to see them in this part of the world, but great time.
I've had some of the most hard core experiences of my trip in the short time I've been here as well. Suffi dancing in Lahore was as rich an experience as I've had anywhere. The dancers dance themselves into a trance with their eyes rolling into their heads and the abnormally huge (giants) drummers do the same. Once they're in trance, they start dancing very strange and do pretty difficult things (physically). Meanwhile, everyone there (at the different Sufi shrine/cool grave yards) crowds in close and smokes more hash than I've seen any group of people anywhere in the world, non stop! That usually lasts till 3 or 4 in the morning and the stoned stupid crowd gets energized as the night goes on, instead of the other way around. Great experience, unforgettable...
Speaking of experiences, I stumbled upon a festival that one guy told me and two of my friends "should not be missed." There is just to much to tell so I'll get down to the basics. It started out a lot like a summer Christian tent meeting (been to a bunch of those growing up) with different teachers and preachers getting the crowd all emotional. It was WAY to hot so my friends and I sat under a tree to kill a few hours till the main part of the festival started. It turned into Sufi night all over again (no dancing or drumming), more hash smoking than I'd seen since the Sufi night! Damn, Marley would be proud!!!
Anyway, at 6:00 pm, the "real' festival started. A white horse led the way (Ali's horse) with four people carrying a palanquin, with some type of shrine on it, close behind. About 15 to 20 shirtless men followed the Palanquin (spl?) and when they finally stopped, some religious men started taking chains, with knives attached to the end, off of the palanquin and handing them to all the shirtless dudes. After they all received their weapons (a handle with a few chains attached and knives at the end of each) they stood in a circle facing eath other and the self punishment began! Damn, did they go to town on themselves! They didn't just swing the chains onto their backs, they slammed them, like they were at war with their own bodies! In a matter of seconds they were all covered in blood and after a couple of minutes, some of the leaders (not participating) had to run over and drag them out of the circle, because they were seriously injuring themselves. HARD CORE, MADNESS!!!! My friends and I almost past out, we had to sit down in the shade somewhere, but we could still here the sound of steel smashing and shredding flesh...
OK, this is to long already, I've got to shorten it. After that I went to the smugglers bazaar in Peshawar (boarder of Afghanistan). There, on arrival, the friendly owners of one of the many shops, sat me down and offered me chai, a spliff of Afghani hash and an excellent offer to kidnap me! He said I could stay at his home and he would demand $200,000 that we could split 50/50. I told him that I'm worth at least a few million and then I went to work checking out all the cool stuff in his shop. Passports, counter-fit money, (Euro's, Dollars, Pounds) any kind of gun and explosives, and Kilo's of hash and heroin are some of the fun things I was able to play with there.
That was cool, but buy then I needed to get away from the cities and I ended up tracking down my ninja friend Jacques in Kalash valley, by word of mouth only. That's how few travelers are in this country. We ended up hitching rides through the mountains on the coolest, most colorful (yeah, sickeningly tacky) trucks in the universe. We found some great remote spots, the best of my trip yet and ended up in a little village that turned out to be run by the Taliban! We met a few and I was decked out in Shalwar Kamiz (the spelling is WAY off), Pakistani clothing, my out of control beard and some style'n terrorist sunglasses! They all loved me and they agreed that Dengue most be a great country. Who would have though I'd make friends like that.
Oh yeah, I mentioned the travelers earlier, but forgot to mention the crusader that is floating around northern Pakistan (if he's not dead yet). Of course, he's American. He's from Colorado, got out of jail a couple of years ago, then God talked to him and told him he must come to Northern Pakistan to find Bin Laden and kill him!! :-) This is my entertainment out here, better than any movie. He's traveling with a sword at his side and on his last mission he climbed a mountain (looking for Laden), took off his backpack, turned around and the sword at his side knocked his backpack down the mountain and into a crevasse! His passport and money belt were in it!! WooooHoooo!! I love it!! Fruity...
OK, now for the latest. Me, Jacques and two Swiss dudes all met up in Gilgit and started talkin about K-2 base camp. The prices were just to high though, the English tourists all payed 1,800 pounds each (well over $3,000), one guy payed $4,000, but the best price we, or anyone else, could find was $1,200 each, but it was out of our budgets. We heard that if we went to Skardu we could possibly arrange the whole thing ourselves. We all had the time and heard it was the most beautiful and one of the most extreme treks (if not the most) in the world, so we took a nice trip down the Karakorum highway.
We passed the spot were the Hindukush, Himalaya's and Karakorum mountain ranges all begin or end (within a mile or two) depending on how good they (the mountains) all get along together, they may not all want to start or end in the same spot, they have feelings to...
Anyway, we killed three days here grilling all the tour company's and making them break down the whole trek (15 days) step by step and getting the prices for each item and comparing them against each other. If was tough, but it payed off on the third day, when we received the best possible (we think) offer of $600 each, all inclusive. It was more than we wanted to spend, but we really wanted to go and it's a once in a lifetime opportunity, but besides that, my Teva's (sandals) really wanted to walk to there 4th (broad peak) and 5th (K-2) base camps of 8,000 + meter peaks. It wasn't my idea, it was there's (the damn Teva's) they're controlling me, that's why I end up in more shoe stores than I plan on, I think they're looking for a girlfriend or wife or something...
The trek began in Askole and ended in Hushe (two more), with Zahid (not a full powered God like Ram, but the humble weather God of the Karakorum Range) as our guide, and his two helpers Nazir and Nabi, who were the spliff smokers and cooks. Sounds like our kind of group. All the other groups were in brand new expensive clothing and in the best shape of their lives. They also ate in a mess tent (we couldn't afford one) and sat on chairs and leaned on a table (what are those?). They had canned coke and ate pizza for lunch, and they averaged 15 porters per person! We on the other hand had a total of 8 porters (between the 3 of us) from the beginning, ate mostly rice, dalh (lentils) and chapati (local, round flat wanna-be bread). We ate on the floor of the cook, stoner and guides tent, have the same, ripped clothes that we'd been travelling with for over 19 months and I had just gotten over the same belly virus that got me at the beginning of the Everest trek. We were all in the worst shape of our lives, skinny and unhealthy, but we dove in there with the best of them, not sure of what we were getting ourselves into.
The first 2 days were (dare I say) easy, besides my tevas breaking, but Zahid (you don't name your kid Zahid unless he's some type of God) fixed them with two nails from our food crate. the third day was a mandatory rest day. We were all healthy and energetic and on the 6th day ended up at Concordia (4,600 meters) in great shape and already acclimatized.
This is taken straight from a flyer from one of the trekking agencies. - This is known as one of the most spectacular treks in the world. It cuts through the greatest concentration of some of the highest peaks in the world. 8 of the worlds 30 highest peaks are found here. Concordia, the apex of this trek, is one of the biggest Piedmont (don't know what that is) glaciers of the world. There Godwin Austin, Abruzzi, and Baltero glaciers collide. From here, within a radius of 7 miles, there are 6 peaks over 7,900 meters (25,912 feet), including the mighty K-2! From Concordia, the 360 degree view offers a panorama of peaks found nowhere else on earth! Within a radius of 15 Kilometers, stand 41 peaks over 6,500 meters (one meter is 3.2 feet), including 4 peaks over 8,000 meters.
From Concordia, we all cruised up to Broad Peak (on the way to K-2) and K-2 base camps, checked out the memorial
to those who died climbing there, soaked up some of the most amazing scenery any of us had ever seen, and talked to some climbers getting ready to start, where we were finishing. All while K-2 was quietly chillin (literally) right beside us. We went back to camp and were supposed to have another mandatory day of rest the next day. Instead, Zahid (Weather God of the Karakorum) told us that in order to cross the Gondogoro La (La = Pass), 5,900 meters and the most difficult and dangerous part of the trek, we would have to leave the next morning at 4 am. All of those expensive trekking groups would end up turning back due to bad weather, without crossing the Gondogoro La the most extreme and Beautiful part of the trek, a big reason we (and almost everyone else) paid $600 for the trek in the first place.
That night I made a huge mistake that would torture me and inflict on me the worst pain I've ever dealt with, for three straight days and nights, starting the next day, I mocked K-2, supreme ruler of the realm of the Karakorum range and she would use but a fraction of her strength to humble me into submission! I didn't say much about her, but I insulted her, I said "this trek has been easy so far", if only I could take back my words!
We started off early and quickly the next morning and stopped for chai at Ali camp, where (everyone always stops for the night) the other two groups stopped for the night, but Zahid, Weather God of the Karakorum, new that time was short and we had to push on or face the wrath of the weather. The day before, my terrorist sunglasses broke in my pocket and stabbed me in the leg. Zahid had already glued one lens together, but this one was, perhaps, beyond his power, so I was forced to climb Gondogoro with out the protection of sunglasses (Getting snow blind). All part of K-2's master plan! It was killer though, the hardest, most extreme trekking (actually mountaineering) I have ever done. Nothing around, but snow and huge chunks of ice! Ropes were in place and we started to climb the mountain single file, heads down and one foot in front of the other. It was cloudy all day, so when we finally reached the top, we weren't able to witness all of "the greatest scenery on earth", but what we saw was amazing still. Nazir celebrated by sparking up a big old spliff on the top, 5,960 meters above sea level!
The way down was a nightmare! Most people cross in the early morning hours (that's why they stay a Ali camp), so that the snow is still frozen and you don't sink in. We had no choice, bad weather was on the way, so we had to face it at 12 noon time. The anchors holding the ropes down were all pulled up (the snow was to soft), the hill was STEEP, 1,400 meters from the top of the pass to where the rope finally ended! We fell into the snow up to our waists the whole way down! It completely drained us all and it would have taken more hours than we had of sunlight to make it down the ropes and we still were a few hours from the next camp from there! We changed tactics and started sliding down the mountain on our butts, one hand on the rope (our life line) and full speed down the mountain, until you sunk in up to your waist. Sometimes one foot would get stuck (up to the knee) and the rest of your body would keep going, I almost broke my leg like that (it's still messed up), so did the mighty Zahid!
After two grueling hours we made it down, soaked and freezing. We couldn't feel our feet and we were wet from the waist down and were still a couple of hours from the next camp. The trail sucked from then on as well, constantly falling into the snow up to our waists, dead tired, soaked, frozen and injured, but I didn't realize just how injured I was at that point. For K-2 had already taken her revenge on me, I just didn't know yet.
We all received a hero's welcome when we reached camp, hugs from everyone. Everyone there (mountain rescue team and porters) knew we had come at the worst time of day and that we had probably passed Ali camp and done about three stages in one day, the first trekking group to pull that one off (expeditions do it though). At dinner time my eyes started to water uncontrollably. I went outside because I thought it was the kerosene, but an hour later it was only getting worse. It turns out that the effects of snow blindness were only now kicking in! That was the beginning of the worst, most painful three days and two nights I've ever experienced. It really felt like broken glass in my eyes, non-stop! Opening my eyes was hell, closing them was equally painful and it never stopped for one second! Sleep was not possible like that and the headache and runny nose made the thin air almost unbreathable, all this was due to K-2. She may be the second highest peak on earth, but she is the #1 most insecure mountain and not at all comfortable with herself. Everest would have let a little comment like that slide, but then that's Everest. K-2 the wicked, beautiful, majestic, malicious...
The Kalash people (Kalash valley) are great. No one knows much about them, but most think that they are decedents of Alexander the Greats army. They're about to disappear and are stuck in a small area (not even one full valley), but remain super friendly. I only stayed in one guest house in the week that I explored the valley. The rest of the time I stayed with family's, and they're whitey's, so it's very strange to see them in this part of the world, but great time.
I've had some of the most hard core experiences of my trip in the short time I've been here as well. Suffi dancing in Lahore was as rich an experience as I've had anywhere. The dancers dance themselves into a trance with their eyes rolling into their heads and the abnormally huge (giants) drummers do the same. Once they're in trance, they start dancing very strange and do pretty difficult things (physically). Meanwhile, everyone there (at the different Sufi shrine/cool grave yards) crowds in close and smokes more hash than I've seen any group of people anywhere in the world, non stop! That usually lasts till 3 or 4 in the morning and the stoned stupid crowd gets energized as the night goes on, instead of the other way around. Great experience, unforgettable...
Speaking of experiences, I stumbled upon a festival that one guy told me and two of my friends "should not be missed." There is just to much to tell so I'll get down to the basics. It started out a lot like a summer Christian tent meeting (been to a bunch of those growing up) with different teachers and preachers getting the crowd all emotional. It was WAY to hot so my friends and I sat under a tree to kill a few hours till the main part of the festival started. It turned into Sufi night all over again (no dancing or drumming), more hash smoking than I'd seen since the Sufi night! Damn, Marley would be proud!!!
Anyway, at 6:00 pm, the "real' festival started. A white horse led the way (Ali's horse) with four people carrying a palanquin, with some type of shrine on it, close behind. About 15 to 20 shirtless men followed the Palanquin (spl?) and when they finally stopped, some religious men started taking chains, with knives attached to the end, off of the palanquin and handing them to all the shirtless dudes. After they all received their weapons (a handle with a few chains attached and knives at the end of each) they stood in a circle facing eath other and the self punishment began! Damn, did they go to town on themselves! They didn't just swing the chains onto their backs, they slammed them, like they were at war with their own bodies! In a matter of seconds they were all covered in blood and after a couple of minutes, some of the leaders (not participating) had to run over and drag them out of the circle, because they were seriously injuring themselves. HARD CORE, MADNESS!!!! My friends and I almost past out, we had to sit down in the shade somewhere, but we could still here the sound of steel smashing and shredding flesh...
OK, this is to long already, I've got to shorten it. After that I went to the smugglers bazaar in Peshawar (boarder of Afghanistan). There, on arrival, the friendly owners of one of the many shops, sat me down and offered me chai, a spliff of Afghani hash and an excellent offer to kidnap me! He said I could stay at his home and he would demand $200,000 that we could split 50/50. I told him that I'm worth at least a few million and then I went to work checking out all the cool stuff in his shop. Passports, counter-fit money, (Euro's, Dollars, Pounds) any kind of gun and explosives, and Kilo's of hash and heroin are some of the fun things I was able to play with there.
That was cool, but buy then I needed to get away from the cities and I ended up tracking down my ninja friend Jacques in Kalash valley, by word of mouth only. That's how few travelers are in this country. We ended up hitching rides through the mountains on the coolest, most colorful (yeah, sickeningly tacky) trucks in the universe. We found some great remote spots, the best of my trip yet and ended up in a little village that turned out to be run by the Taliban! We met a few and I was decked out in Shalwar Kamiz (the spelling is WAY off), Pakistani clothing, my out of control beard and some style'n terrorist sunglasses! They all loved me and they agreed that Dengue most be a great country. Who would have though I'd make friends like that.
Oh yeah, I mentioned the travelers earlier, but forgot to mention the crusader that is floating around northern Pakistan (if he's not dead yet). Of course, he's American. He's from Colorado, got out of jail a couple of years ago, then God talked to him and told him he must come to Northern Pakistan to find Bin Laden and kill him!! :-) This is my entertainment out here, better than any movie. He's traveling with a sword at his side and on his last mission he climbed a mountain (looking for Laden), took off his backpack, turned around and the sword at his side knocked his backpack down the mountain and into a crevasse! His passport and money belt were in it!! WooooHoooo!! I love it!! Fruity...
OK, now for the latest. Me, Jacques and two Swiss dudes all met up in Gilgit and started talkin about K-2 base camp. The prices were just to high though, the English tourists all payed 1,800 pounds each (well over $3,000), one guy payed $4,000, but the best price we, or anyone else, could find was $1,200 each, but it was out of our budgets. We heard that if we went to Skardu we could possibly arrange the whole thing ourselves. We all had the time and heard it was the most beautiful and one of the most extreme treks (if not the most) in the world, so we took a nice trip down the Karakorum highway.
We passed the spot were the Hindukush, Himalaya's and Karakorum mountain ranges all begin or end (within a mile or two) depending on how good they (the mountains) all get along together, they may not all want to start or end in the same spot, they have feelings to...
Anyway, we killed three days here grilling all the tour company's and making them break down the whole trek (15 days) step by step and getting the prices for each item and comparing them against each other. If was tough, but it payed off on the third day, when we received the best possible (we think) offer of $600 each, all inclusive. It was more than we wanted to spend, but we really wanted to go and it's a once in a lifetime opportunity, but besides that, my Teva's (sandals) really wanted to walk to there 4th (broad peak) and 5th (K-2) base camps of 8,000 + meter peaks. It wasn't my idea, it was there's (the damn Teva's) they're controlling me, that's why I end up in more shoe stores than I plan on, I think they're looking for a girlfriend or wife or something...
The trek began in Askole and ended in Hushe (two more), with Zahid (not a full powered God like Ram, but the humble weather God of the Karakorum Range) as our guide, and his two helpers Nazir and Nabi, who were the spliff smokers and cooks. Sounds like our kind of group. All the other groups were in brand new expensive clothing and in the best shape of their lives. They also ate in a mess tent (we couldn't afford one) and sat on chairs and leaned on a table (what are those?). They had canned coke and ate pizza for lunch, and they averaged 15 porters per person! We on the other hand had a total of 8 porters (between the 3 of us) from the beginning, ate mostly rice, dalh (lentils) and chapati (local, round flat wanna-be bread). We ate on the floor of the cook, stoner and guides tent, have the same, ripped clothes that we'd been travelling with for over 19 months and I had just gotten over the same belly virus that got me at the beginning of the Everest trek. We were all in the worst shape of our lives, skinny and unhealthy, but we dove in there with the best of them, not sure of what we were getting ourselves into.
The first 2 days were (dare I say) easy, besides my tevas breaking, but Zahid (you don't name your kid Zahid unless he's some type of God) fixed them with two nails from our food crate. the third day was a mandatory rest day. We were all healthy and energetic and on the 6th day ended up at Concordia (4,600 meters) in great shape and already acclimatized.
This is taken straight from a flyer from one of the trekking agencies. - This is known as one of the most spectacular treks in the world. It cuts through the greatest concentration of some of the highest peaks in the world. 8 of the worlds 30 highest peaks are found here. Concordia, the apex of this trek, is one of the biggest Piedmont (don't know what that is) glaciers of the world. There Godwin Austin, Abruzzi, and Baltero glaciers collide. From here, within a radius of 7 miles, there are 6 peaks over 7,900 meters (25,912 feet), including the mighty K-2! From Concordia, the 360 degree view offers a panorama of peaks found nowhere else on earth! Within a radius of 15 Kilometers, stand 41 peaks over 6,500 meters (one meter is 3.2 feet), including 4 peaks over 8,000 meters.
From Concordia, we all cruised up to Broad Peak (on the way to K-2) and K-2 base camps, checked out the memorial
to those who died climbing there, soaked up some of the most amazing scenery any of us had ever seen, and talked to some climbers getting ready to start, where we were finishing. All while K-2 was quietly chillin (literally) right beside us. We went back to camp and were supposed to have another mandatory day of rest the next day. Instead, Zahid (Weather God of the Karakorum) told us that in order to cross the Gondogoro La (La = Pass), 5,900 meters and the most difficult and dangerous part of the trek, we would have to leave the next morning at 4 am. All of those expensive trekking groups would end up turning back due to bad weather, without crossing the Gondogoro La the most extreme and Beautiful part of the trek, a big reason we (and almost everyone else) paid $600 for the trek in the first place.
That night I made a huge mistake that would torture me and inflict on me the worst pain I've ever dealt with, for three straight days and nights, starting the next day, I mocked K-2, supreme ruler of the realm of the Karakorum range and she would use but a fraction of her strength to humble me into submission! I didn't say much about her, but I insulted her, I said "this trek has been easy so far", if only I could take back my words!
We started off early and quickly the next morning and stopped for chai at Ali camp, where (everyone always stops for the night) the other two groups stopped for the night, but Zahid, Weather God of the Karakorum, new that time was short and we had to push on or face the wrath of the weather. The day before, my terrorist sunglasses broke in my pocket and stabbed me in the leg. Zahid had already glued one lens together, but this one was, perhaps, beyond his power, so I was forced to climb Gondogoro with out the protection of sunglasses (Getting snow blind). All part of K-2's master plan! It was killer though, the hardest, most extreme trekking (actually mountaineering) I have ever done. Nothing around, but snow and huge chunks of ice! Ropes were in place and we started to climb the mountain single file, heads down and one foot in front of the other. It was cloudy all day, so when we finally reached the top, we weren't able to witness all of "the greatest scenery on earth", but what we saw was amazing still. Nazir celebrated by sparking up a big old spliff on the top, 5,960 meters above sea level!
The way down was a nightmare! Most people cross in the early morning hours (that's why they stay a Ali camp), so that the snow is still frozen and you don't sink in. We had no choice, bad weather was on the way, so we had to face it at 12 noon time. The anchors holding the ropes down were all pulled up (the snow was to soft), the hill was STEEP, 1,400 meters from the top of the pass to where the rope finally ended! We fell into the snow up to our waists the whole way down! It completely drained us all and it would have taken more hours than we had of sunlight to make it down the ropes and we still were a few hours from the next camp from there! We changed tactics and started sliding down the mountain on our butts, one hand on the rope (our life line) and full speed down the mountain, until you sunk in up to your waist. Sometimes one foot would get stuck (up to the knee) and the rest of your body would keep going, I almost broke my leg like that (it's still messed up), so did the mighty Zahid!
After two grueling hours we made it down, soaked and freezing. We couldn't feel our feet and we were wet from the waist down and were still a couple of hours from the next camp. The trail sucked from then on as well, constantly falling into the snow up to our waists, dead tired, soaked, frozen and injured, but I didn't realize just how injured I was at that point. For K-2 had already taken her revenge on me, I just didn't know yet.
We all received a hero's welcome when we reached camp, hugs from everyone. Everyone there (mountain rescue team and porters) knew we had come at the worst time of day and that we had probably passed Ali camp and done about three stages in one day, the first trekking group to pull that one off (expeditions do it though). At dinner time my eyes started to water uncontrollably. I went outside because I thought it was the kerosene, but an hour later it was only getting worse. It turns out that the effects of snow blindness were only now kicking in! That was the beginning of the worst, most painful three days and two nights I've ever experienced. It really felt like broken glass in my eyes, non-stop! Opening my eyes was hell, closing them was equally painful and it never stopped for one second! Sleep was not possible like that and the headache and runny nose made the thin air almost unbreathable, all this was due to K-2. She may be the second highest peak on earth, but she is the #1 most insecure mountain and not at all comfortable with herself. Everest would have let a little comment like that slide, but then that's Everest. K-2 the wicked, beautiful, majestic, malicious...
I've found God (Nepal)
The trek was absolutly amazing! Sara (my sister), James, Tom (both from England) and I had the best time ever! We turned a 10-12 day trek into a 7 day trek, simply because we are ALL ninja's!
The views were stuning and we all felt closer to god the higher we climbed. As it turns out God lives at MBC (Machhapuchhre Base Camp) about an hour and a half from ABC (Annapurna Base Camp)! His name is Ram and he owns a guest house there, the cosy lodge.
On the third day of the trek we got stuck in a cloud (they come in fast) and couldn't see the path (we were walking on a glacier). By the time we got to MBC we were all cold, tired and hungry, so we stayed at Ram's place (it was the first G.H. we saw). As soon as we sat down we all felt at home, which is rare out there. After we ordered a couple of meals each we directed our attention to Ram, who was sitting at the far side of the loooong table. I made a coment on how good his food was and how cosy his G.H. really was, but he seemed way to composed. I knew he was hiding something and I was right.
He told us some stories about how fast he used to get to Pokhara from his guest house. It takes three days for mere mortals, but 8 hours for him. That made perfect sense too and was my first clue. Then, that night, the craziest, coolest, most intense lightning storm I've ever watched came into the narrow valley directly below us. We all watched in awe as clouds (lit up by the moon and the lightning) flew between the narrow mountain passage below and came right at us. Amazingly enough, we could still watch the light show (through the clouds) and it (the lightning) seemed to start from one tip of a mountain and end across the valley at another peak, not far from us either. Second clue, yeah, he made that happen (this too)!
It was then that I had my first good idea of 2005. I pulled out my sisters mag-light and went to war with Tom and James with my new cloud powered light saber! That was excellent! All the while Ram was witnessing my awsome skills and I think he approved..
Anyway, the next morning Ram ended up going down to the next village for some sort of religious festival and came back that night. He mentioned the sacrificing of a goat, so I didn't think it was a Buddhist ceremony (not supposed to harm any living thing), even though most of the mountain people are Buddhist (the high majority of Nepal is Hindu though). I asked him if it was a Buddhist or Hindu festival, since I was highly suspicious of him at that point. He told me it was a little of both and so was he. Gotch yuh! That was a huge mistake on his part, but it made perfect sense to me. At that point, we were all convinced that he was indeed a god and I immediately thought that he may very well be one of the 900,000 Hindu gods. The fact that he chose to live in the Himalaya's also made perfect sense to all of us as well. On top of all that, only one woman is allowed to live above the temple in the village below and you guessed it, she was Rams lovely wife Bindu.
I can go on and on about the unbelievable things that Ram has done and the three of us had witnessed, but frankly I don't think I would have the energy to type it all and still you all would have to find God for yourselves. At least you all know where to go if you ever want to meet god. He lives in Nepal, in the Himalaya's, his name is Ram and he owns a Guest House by the name of Cosy Lodge. Go there, find him and be at peace...
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