Trekking, Day 2 : Hellish Ascent

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Pain shot through my legs with just a slight wiggle of my toes. I sat up in bed and felt a stretchy pain on my bottom and hips. I threw the blanket back and swung my heavy legs over and winced in pain. Like an old granny with a crooked back, I painfully walked forward, setting the pace for the day.

“Oh No!” I laughed to Santi with mocked exasperation as I looked up at the steep hill then down at my creaky legs. Three thousand stone steps. Yes, that many! Not around, but straight up that hellish mountain, on of course with my luck, a scorching HOT morning. “This is going to be interesting,” I thought to myself as I scanned the silhouette of the steep ascent.

I laughed and winced in pain as we descended down a few steps, excruciatingly slow. My ass hurt so bad with each descending step I feared it would cramp. I had to stay off my heel in order to stifle the painful pierce of a pre-cramp, cramp. BUT! Yes a big BUT! My shins and calves were throbbing with pain. Each time I stepped down on the ball of my foot, my forward downward momentum rocked me a bit onto my toes which sent a shooting pain which traveled up my shins then my calves until I gently rolled back. Sometimes, I rolled back so far, my ass would start to cramp. To make matters worse, my legs were jellowy and gave out at the most inopportune times. No! It wasn”t supposed to be funny but I laughed at my silliness, nonetheless.

It”s psychological. It”s psychological! I told myself, my eyes darted forward as I walked across a wobbly suspended bridge. I thought I had quenched my fear of heights but every so often, like slow acting alcohol seeping through my veins, it would slowly creep up on me. The river rushed fiercely, below us. It”s momentum pushed by the ferocity of a drop on my right. “Look, Didi!” exclaimed Santi. My nerves steadied. I gripped on to the side of the bridge and forced myself to look in the same direction as her gaze. The wild and fearless beauty of an aquamarine waterfall soothed my nerves and drove away my creeping fear of heights. We stood there motionless for a few seconds. Mesmerized. Suddenly, my heart’s beat ceased as the wooden boards below me trembled. Santi had started to move forward and the bridge shuddered with every step. It was laughing at my awakened fear.. “Damnit, it’s psychological!” I let go of the side, held my head high and walked forward. I exhaled as I easily stepped off the shaky bridge and laughed confidently, “Yes! All psychological! But, Dear God please tell me there isn’t another one for a while.” I snickered.

Hell is thought to be located somewhere below but after crossing that bridge, it appeared before me. We ascended and ascended and ascended, into my personal hell. The constant climbing warmed my legs. They were no longer cramping. The pain replaced by something else. I was engulfed in a violent storm. My heart beat violently against my head like deafening thunder. Invisible raindrops materialized on my forehead, it’s saltiness stung my eyes, slid down my face and dropped off my chin. I was sweating profusely.

Santi offered to carry my backpack but my pride refused. “I want to tell my friends, I carried my backpack the whole time,” I managed to hoarsely whisper in between breathes. Damnit! Why didn”t I bring my albuterol. I silently cursed myself for not bringing my inhaler. “Only until the top” she emphasized. “No thanks!”, I said, willing myself up and forward.

Shade. I need shade. Where is the shade” I looked up. Yes, shade. Through the blurry sting in my eyes, I noticed it was only about 50 steps up but it seemed excruciatingly long. A few children rounded a corner up ahead and skipped down the steps in their. GASP! Slippers! A frail old woman whom I had waved to in passing by one of the homes that clung to the mountain below,passed me. The rickety, wrinkly old lady smiled at me as she leaned forward with a heavily loaded conical basket balanced on her back. She leaned forward using both arms to grip onto the strap that held the basket. The straps wound around her forehead and held the basket against her back. I shamefully smiled back as I held onto the straps of my little 5 pound backpack, thinking “Who am I to complain. Thank you, God for that shot of confidence. NOT!” I willed myself to continue at a faster pace but my reserve was spent. I nearly collapsed under the shade. “Didi, I will take your back until the top” Santi grabbed my bag and I didn’t protest. Beads of sweat dropped off my chin and slithered down my chest. My breathe still climbing the steps behind me desperately trying to catch up. I hung my head down in resignation, “Okay! Thank you! Only until the top.” I scanned the steps before us. The top was nowhere in sight.

An hour later, we stood at the top of stairs. “Yes, I made it!” I looked at the view below me and felt re-energized. Then I turned around and looked up ahead. “What!” I thought, completely puzzled. “We still need to go up?” I asked. Santi laughed. “Yes, the stairs are finished but it is now easy climb up.” I laughed. “Of course!Why God Why!” I questioned above. I turned to Santi and asked in my pigeon english, “How long more?” She smiled. Bless her! “For you,maybe 1 or 2 hours.” “GREAT!” I laughed a little uneasily, “at least, I”m going to sleep really really REALLY GOOD tonight” haha”.

After lunch, we continued our “gradual” ascent up and around the top of the mountain and passed a village with locals going about their daily business. A young girl carrying her little brother as she picked the plants for food. An old woman weaving a floor mat with slivers of bamboo. A woman squatting beneath a faucet as she soaped her long black hair then flicked it back like a shampoo commercial. Her face potrayed surprise as I approached. The old man sitting solemnly on a flat rock, listening to his handheld radio, all the while watching the view of the valley below.

A few more things served as my salvation for making it up those horrid stairs once we finished and our hike for the day. The enveloping silence of the mountain, the slight breeze which cooled my being as I sat back and enjoyed my delicious POT of Nepali tea on the outside veranda overlooking the mountains. There was a beautiful view of Macchupucharre that peeked between two closer mountan peaks. The delightful surprise when I peered into a large basket in the darkened kitchen and found a beautiful little baby smiling at me. The scrumptious Daal Bhaat dinner which I wolfed down as I sat on the floor next to the makeshift fireplace that warmed my near frozen toes in the evening. And finally, the well deserved, deep sleep I fell into a second BEFORE my head hit the pillow.