"Solitude at 18,000 Feet"
23 September 1999

I spent the last few days among these mountains in solitude. True, there are 42 porters, 8 sherpas, a cook, his 4 helpers, Matthew Dijon and myself but I have, nevertheless, been alone. Do not conjure up images of tears and fright, longing or misery. These days have had a distinct Zen quality about them. My mind has emptied of thought (though Matthew points out that at 16,000 feet this is bound to happen).

Everything is so clear up here. Yesterday we reached our high pass (17,810 feet). At the top I strung prayer flags from chorten to chorten, shared a beer with the gods and Pasang, then took a seat in the snow. A moment of unspeakable stillness.

The long path down towards Kagbeni kept my mind on this singularity: footprints. I was following a variety of shapes and sizes as I descended. Some with clear markings of "Nike" or "Adidas", others of cheap Chinese thongs. Many were made by barefoot porters who somehow have acquired an immunity to frostbite.

An hour outside Kagbeni I stopped on the cliffs' edge. Peering down at this Medieval town reminded me of stories from the day of Ghengis Khan. From this height and distance Kagbeni looked nothing more than a pile of stones shaped into rough rectangular shapes and wholly abandon.

Distances can be deceiving though, for that one hour took four before reaching the outskirts of town, well, this hamlet; this outpost of humanity.

Kagbeni was constructed in the 14th century, more or less. It began as a summer pasture for the nomads further south. Beginning in May they would move their herds up from Jomsom and points further south to avoid the monsoonal rains. But the favorable climate and relatively little snowfall (I say relatively meaning less than six meters) led to a permanent settlement. The winters forced the residence to build underground rooms where livestock and family would wait out the winter together. These rooms became especially important in the 18th century when Khampa raiders from Tibet began pillaging further and further south.

As our party approached it truly seemed the settlement was abandoned. Walking through the narrow stone streets where sunlight never touched was eerie. But giggles, and then the sight of two playful children turned my worries into laughter.

That evening as I gazed north towards the forbidden kingdom of Mustang I wondered if I really needed to return home.