(written 23 July 2006)

I am tremendously behind, so I will have to sum up and some details will be lost. Second day of hike (July 18) we continue along the road until it stops about halfway to Zangskar Sumdo. This road will eventually connect Padum to Darsha, providing winter access to the southern Zanskar Valley and Darsha.

Along the last stretch of road, half a dozen Nepali men move a 3 foot diameter rock with a crowbar. A Siekh man on top of a bull dozer makes deliberate eye contact, then gives me a little bow with his hands palms together.

The last hour of the hike is tremendously hot with direct sun. Bella only in a bandana, and neither of us sunscreen. B gets heat exhaustion and passes out in the tent after we arrive. We consider adding a rest day here, but opt to go as high as Ramjak, and then consider continuing to Chumik Nakpo if Bella is feeling up to it.

Sitting in the tent talking with Dorjay, the ground shakes for 1-2 seconds. I instinctively ignore it, used to passing trucks causing the floor to rumble in the city. Except no road here, no trucks. Dorjay and I exchange wideeyed glances and Dorjay says earthquake. We scurry out of the tent to survey the landscape. No visible avalanche, but I'm left with a visceral understanding that the Himalaya is still rising.

Later in the afternoon, Dorjay calls me asking me for medicine. He brings me a 40ish year old man, and I end up doing a fairly complete history with brief exam. Intermittent RUQ pain worse after eating lasting 4-5 hours. Similar episode 3 years ago, told he had "stones" and needed an operation. Benign exam. I diagnose biliary colic and give him some advil and some oxycodone for his pain. Tell him he needs to go to a doctor. Write a note explaining my H&P and A&P and give it to him with a pictoral explanation of how to take the meds, and send him on his way. His friend then tells me he has worms in his stool. I apologize that I have nothing to give him -- he'll need albendezole or mebendezole which I did not take with.

Third day of hike (July 19) we cross the barai nala and officially enter Ladakh. Up the valley on the south side of the Shingo La to a campsite just south of Chumik Nakpo. Views of Ramjak mt. Bella feeling better and we hike well.

Fourth day of hike (July 20) is cool and rainy. Bella wears wool sweater and refuses to wear any kind of shell layer. Steep hiking past glaciers and at one point 2 dead ponies seen off the trail (not ours!). The Shingo (Shinken) La is windy misty and gorgeous.

I'm breathing hard, feeling the altitude, and Bella has to stop after every 30 or so steps in the steep areas to catch her breath. She complains breifly of chest pain, but this resolves. At the top, Dorjay Jigmet Sonnam and I are exuberant and circle the prayer flags -- Dorjay and Jigmet whoop victorious.

The valley we are in is maybe the most striking I've seen. Below us is Gumburanjan a huge rock face reminiscent of (the big rock in Yosemite made famous by Ansel Adams), while above we can see some of the himalayan peaks.

Fifth day of hike (July 21) we descend the vally to Kargyak. We follow Gumbarajan then pass it. The valley just gets better and better now with Gumbaranjan behind us and Zanskar red mountains ahead. Bella feeling much better and making good pace ahead of me (no pack for her yesterday and today). River crossing thigh deep -- the ponies look like they may fall in! Pass several other groups heading the opposite direction -- B chastises me for always asking where they are from, encourages me to just say Julay (Ladakhi for hello) and not be such an aggressively friendly American.

We arrive at Kargyak and I'm amazed by the Tibettan trappings -- Chortens and mani walls dotting along the valley below us. Walking through town makes me think of something out of Nintendo's Legend of Zelda -- little medieval village with Zanskaris tending the fields (always women) and children being changed and clothed by their mothers.

We camp by the river a bit north of town. After setting camp, I wander to the group of houses nearby. A woman motions to me to help her push barley seeds that had roasted in the sun into a burlap bag. I help her, and a man comes over and helps as well. He asks a bunch of questions, but I don't understand. She has a child on her back, maybe a year old, with sun and wind burnt cheeks. I take their picture with the bags of barley, and I draw them a map showing that I am from New York and they are in Ladakh. Another woman comes over and takes the camera from my hand to examine it. I gently take it back, snap her picture, and show it to her. She is unsure what to make of it.

I say goodbye and continue up into the town. A young man gets my attention "Bonjour" "Hello" I stop and he explains to me in competent English that he is on Summer Break and very bored in his town. He invites me to have tea. I follow him. He ushers me through a door into his house. It is very dark inside, and for a moment, I think perhaps he will kill me. But I press on, and he does not, instead motioning to me to climb stairs into a single room. We talk a bit, exchange addresses, and I take his picture with me in front of his house. He serves me yak's milk curds with tsampa, which is actually quite good.

(written 17 July 2006)

Much to sum up. Must be brief. Flight to Delhi notable for old ? Russian jet -- broad (3x3x3 seats) and tall ceiling, roomy baggage compartment. Friendly people, older woman next to us returning from visiting family in Canada helped another woman a few seats up with her often crying infant (10mo?). Air conditioning / vent on the *back* of the seat in front to blow in our face. No movie no screen. Arrived at Delhi airport at 3AM, easily found our bags (thank God they all made it) and waited until about 4:30 AM before venturing off. Prepaid taxi voucher, then out. Through a few doors, maybe we'd walked into a large room with no a/c . I looked up and thought the room was too large, that the ceiling looked too much like a... no wait it was - a road, a highway, and a purple black sky peeking out from behind the awning over the exit. After a few steps, I saw the road at our level, taxis lined up and packed with people. Behind the taxis a cow walked along the road, flapping its tail.

With all our bags, and unclear where to get our prepaid taxi, (and my western face) we were accosted by many, and eventually Bella asked a man where to get our prepaid taxi. He pointed the way, and his friends came and carried our bags to the cab. Only had 7 rupees for them, which was too little for their liking.

Arrived at Meera's house by 5ish July 14 near AIIMS the All India Institute of Medical Sciences -- NIH for India. Meera's husband is a biophysicist working on drugs to interrupt lactoferrin in breast cancer. Sheila heard us milling about trying to figure out how to ring the bell and ushered us in. No sleep, we spent the day talking, catching up, meeting with someone from the trek agency (Sharap) wandering into Delhi (Connaught Circle) and then I took a nap while Bella met with someone from Sesame India.

Next day (July 15) I took a run in the AM. Along one of the major roads by McDonalds banks fashion shops and a canal smelling of manure from the dozen cows by its shore. 8PM bus to Manali. Bus trip long and windy, many passengers vomiting, little sleep for us but stomach OK.

In Manali, now AM of July 16, we get out of the bus, stop at a local Tibetan restaurant for some noodles.

Then to the bank to get $ for Sharap. I feel nervous carrying around so much cash - but a cop nearby was suspicious at the amount of time I was at the ATM. He hovered over us while I counted out 25000 rupees (about $550) in 500 note denominations providing some comforting security.

Then Bella and I went off to find a sleeping bag. With Sharap's help, we found the local wholesaler, who ushered us back to his house. Bella picked out a bag, and then we sat and talked with the owner/head of household for a while. He came from Tibet in the 50s when he was 11 years old to flee the Chinese. Settled in Manali, then a small village, but now an increasingly large town for the trekking industry since tourism began 30 yrs ago. He has a porch overlooking mountains and pine trees -- idyllic.


Jeep ride to Darcha bumpy for 6 hours. 2 Indian army checkpoints. Rotung pass. There's one spot where they have paragliding set up -- 500 rupees and then strap you to a parachute, jump off with you in tandem, then float gently to a landing spot maybe 1/4 mile away.

In Darcha, we meet Dorjay our guide cum cook, and Jigmet his assistent. Pony man we meet tomorrow.

Dorjay looks mid 30s, has 10-11 years experience, and has done this trek many times -- when pressed, he admits maybe it has become a bit boring.

Jigmet must be 18-20, 2 years experience, first time Darcha-Lamayuru for him. Set up our tent (we ask them to give back the tent they have already set up for us). We bring the maps to Dorjay and walk through the whole trek -- looks like we walk a bit every day with some days hard, some mellow. Dinner is meat dumplings made in town (momo) and rice and tea (soljat).

Met Greg in nearby tent -- guy from Chicago making similar trek. He asks 3 or 4 times if we are going to take rest days but doesn't look like it after talking with Dorjay.

17 July slept well in the sleeping bags for the fist time, except had to get up at 3AM to pee (Bella and I both) probably because of the acetazolamide, and the occasional rumbling of a car or truck over the bridge near the campsite. In the AM, woke 6-6:30ish. Bella full of energy, me a bit sleepy. Soljat cornflakes peanut butter jelly bread breakfast. We meet Sonam, our pony man. He's been doing this for 30 years.

And then Dorjay Bella and I are off. We hike up the main road a bit, then turn off and climb to a path with a great view of the river Barai Nala. We then join up with the road they are building from Darsha to Padum and follow that (as we will for the rest of today and half tomorrow). Meet up with a large (20ish people) Dutch group. They are very interested in the Editions Olizine maps I obtained. One of the Western leaders Remco Wullems had done the Kang La and Miyar valley and glacier hike some years earlier with Nepali porters, and he said it was amazing. Also suggested the nigutse la variant in the last days of the trek -- 5100 meters and moonscape surroundings, but lots (30) of river crossings. (We'll happily avoid this route - rains would make those river crossings dangerous at best).

We do our first river crossing this day -- shoes off and wade across. Bit scary when the current is high, but the water no higher than mid calf.

Through some towns Chumik and Nakpo, our first Mani wall, noticing trash on the trail. Get to Palamo, and see our first tea tent -- made from parachutes left over from food drop. Soljat, then around the back side of the campground to avoid the mass of Dutch. Lunch in a box: potato, hard boiled egg, jelly sandwich, chocolate bar, and (sorry) I'd crushed the bananas. Set up tent then three hour solid nap.

Greg is here. He is a law professor from Chicago. We talk about using acetazolamide for AMS. He actually pops into our tent during dinner and starts blabbling away to us, without introducing himself (or even greeting) Dorjay or Jigmet. Then sleep again.

13 July 2006, 4:30 PM Moscow Airport (SVO)


Layover. Uneventful flight from JFK to SVO. We had a row of three middle seats just to the two of us, so got some sleep. Moscow airport, SVO. Two floors of cafes, duty free shops, and waiting. Interesting ceiling - makes me think of a photography paper I wrote as an undergrad about a guy Rodchenko who liked to photograph bridges, steel towers, wire cables.



Shaved my head and my beard by the way.

JFK Airport - 7 July 2006

You know you've begun an international trip when you start writing the date backwards. It's especially funny today--7/12 or 12/7--the dates for my birthday and my mom's. Yes, I'm leaving the country on my mother's birthday. I gave her a fancy can opener for her new kitchen. She's losing a daughter, but gaining easy access to many canned goods.

I can't believe we're really here. Despite all the planning and preparation, I don't think it really hit me that we were leaving until Monday. Lots of friends and family have been asking whether I'm excited, or whether we're nervous-but nothing really struck the chord until Zach said, "So what are you going to wear on the plane?" Not sure why that of all things did it, but suddenly my eyes went wide and the butterflies erupted in my stomach. We were really, actually going and I had to decide what I was going to wear. On the plane. The day after tomorrow. Well, today.

Anyway, since then, I've been kindof a mess-I can't remember the last time I've been so nervous or excited about anything. I've been staying up until 3 or 4am trying to finish all of our last-minute to-dos, and then opening my eyes at 6am, wide awake with butterflies in my stomach.

12 July 2006, 6PM EST JFK Airport

Bella and I have arrived at the John F Kennedy International airport - chowed down on some sushi, and watching squalls drench the grounds crew on the tarmac. It's been "can't wait!" and "I'm so excited!" for so long, now that we're actually here, it's a bit unreal. There's a comfort about being in the States where everything is in English and the expressions on people's faces are familiar - but it's impossible to appreciate that familiarity until you've been away. Which I haven't at this point.

Aeroflot flight 316 boarding at gate 3. Gotta go.

July 12, 2006 Ardsley, NY

After planning and planning for a looong time, some things are meticulously in order and ready to go - e.g., the huge travel pharmacy bearing the absurdly understated title of "med kit" is probably Zach's favorite thing about the trip so far. We've spent many hours and dollars researching and buying everything from packs to underwear to duct tape. In a not-atypical fashion, we left a few things to the end-we ordered an international plug set, my sleeping bag, and a gps to be delivered this past week. Armed with tracking numbers and earnest guarantees that our final items would arrive in time, we headed up to Connecticut to spend the day before we left with Zach's parents.

You know this isn't going to have a happy ending already, don't you?

I have to start with the sleeping bag, because it's the thing I was probably most excited about-I spent weeks researching online, looking for the lightest, most highly recommended bag. The Western Mountaineering Ultralight got rave reviews everywhere, but the cost was huge-so I spent more weeks debating whether we should spend the money. After making the decision, Zach and I both spent time finding a place to buy the bags-Bob's Wilderness House in Boston promised us the bags were due in "next week" for about a month, until we finally gave up and decided to order online. More time researching online retailers, trying to find a good price and good customer service record. After some promising exchanges with Tim Harris at Hermit's Hut, Zach placed the order with them. Zach's bag arrived promptly, and Tim promised mine was on the way direct from Western Mountaineering-and he was including a free travel pillow and nalgene bottle. It was the end of June when we had this exchange with Hermit's Hut, and while we were nervous about how close we were cutting it with an essential item, Tim assured us we'd have the bag on time and we received the UPS tracking number so we could follow it's progress across the country. I was sweating a little when I realized the bag was due to arrive the day before we left, but when I saw that the UPS truck had left at 7am to deliver the package to my parents' house, I figured I was safe. When we were up in Connecticut and I checked that the package had indeed been delivered, I felt assured. When I got home late Tuesday night and saw the small size of the box, I got nervous. I rationalized that the sleeping bag packs down really small. But Zach's had come in a box about 10 times as big. I opened the box and stared at my free nalgene bottle and travel pillow. No bag in sight. It was midnight in NY, and 9pm in California, where Hermit's Hut is. I left a frantic message on their answering machine, but knew I wouldn't be able to talk to anyone until noon Eastern the next day-that would be 3 hours before we were supposed to leave for the airport. Suddenly it dawned on me that the bag was supposed to be coming directly from Western Mountaineering, the manufacturer. I googled their address and phone number. Also in California. No answering machine. Dammit.

This is probably a good time to add that the GPS never arrived, and the plug set included 2 coverters for Sweden, 2 for Denmark, 2 for the South Pacific, and one for South Africa. Amazingly, though we are traveling around the world, exactly zero of these plugs is useful for us. Disbelief gave way to frustration, anger, and panic.

Then I had a revelation-this is the trip. This kind of disaster and disappointment is going to happen often. This was like a little sign from the travel gods saying, "get used to it." And also, a reminder that while it's important to be prepared, really the trip is not about having all the right stuff. Then it was funny, and I remembered all the crazy scrapes we got into on various journeys and jobs, and remembered that we were good at improvising and being flexible. We'd figure it out.

On Wednesday morning, I got through to the Western Mountaineering warehouse (Sarah, you're not the only person who has to be at work at 6am!) and the woman said that while she had the order for my bag (and while the bag was ready and sitting in her warehouse), she had never been given a shipping address to send it to. So the miracle delivery of my bag on the day I departed was not going to happen. While I waited for Hermit's Hut to open, I called around to see if any stores carried my bag. Unfortunately, mine was special ordered short, and the stores that had bags only had longs. No dice. When we finally got through to Hermit's Hut (three hours before we were leaving for the airport), they agreed to get the bag from Western Mountaineering and express ship it to India. I still won't have it for the Himalaya trek (which is probably where I need it most), but at least I'll have it for the rest of the journey. I'm going to rent a bag for the Himalaya-which is a little sad but really fine. As my mom insists, all the college kids in India do that when they go trekking.

As for the plugs and GPS, we picked up cheaper, simpler versions of our initial picks before we left. And we're off.