| Ancient Dzong.
We were driven a short distance out of Paro, to the end of the road, where our trek
started. It was a rainy dismal day, but that was a perfect backdrop for the Drukyel
Dzong. Built in 1647 to commemorate a victory over the Tibetan army, it was destroyed
in 1951 by a fire started by a butter lamp, and is now a solitary ruin.
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| Lonely Sentinal.
Hiking through high mountain passes, you suddenly burst open this incredible scene - yet
another dzong guarding a lonely mountain pass. These solitary mountain outposts, the
distant, massive Himalayan peaks - you can't find much any more awe-inspiring than this.
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| Yak.
Our baggage was usually carried by yaks. Not the friendliest or cleverest of creatures,
they are ideally suited for this environment. In fact, once they get below about 7,000
feet, they become decidedly uncomfortable. Their horns were usually festooned with
ornamentation and bells. We usually gave them a wide berth on the trail.
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| Mountain Camp.
The goal of our trek was to get to a remote northern outpost called Lunana. To get there,
one has to cross three successive 16,000 ft. passes. This is our camp site prior to
starting into the passes. It was snowy and wet, but not particularly cold.
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| Snowy Camp.
It snowed all night, but we got off to an early start - straight up. Thrashing up
rododendrum covered mountain sides we managed to get over two of the passes. It was
still snowing. At this point the yak drivers rebelled and said they weren't going any
further. They claimed that if we got into Lunana, we'd never get out. So we turned
back and spent the night at the first level spot we found. We were at 15,000 ft. This
is the next morning - brilliant blue sky and sunshine. The yak drivers were right - the
only other group going in that year got stuck in Lunana and were helicoptered out at
great personal expense.
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| Wet Yaks.
One evening we were forced to camp in a very poor spot. There was no level ground in
sight, so we pitched our tents at the side of the trail on a steep slope. It was a
chore not sliding out of the tent during the night. When I awoke the next morning,
and stuck my head out the tent door, this is the sight that greeted me. The yaks were
tethered right on the trail. It had snowed all night. You haven't lived until you've
smelled a wet yak.
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| Stupa.
One evening we were forced to camp in a very poor spot. There was no level ground in
sight, so we pitched our tents at the side of the trail on a steep slope. It was a
chore not sliding out of the tent during the night. When I awoke the next morning,
and stuck my head out the tent door, this is the sight that greeted me. The yaks were
tethered right on the trail. It had snowed all night. You haven't lived until you've
smelled a wet yak.
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