Well I would estimate the book is 70% down on paper. It’s been a wild ride laced with good, bad and sometimes uncomfortable memories. Fortunately, Troy, Todd and I kept copious notes. Otherwise a lot of the events and details would have forever drifted into forgotten. The exercise itself has forced me into a routine. I’ve never cared for routines and I’m not thrilled about this one.
Today I have copied three excerpts on the rigors of just getting to the trailhead. It could take up to 10 days. Quick background: The Himalayan Mountains are the result of the Indian tectonic plate crashing into the Asian tectonic plate:
“This ongoing geologic movement generates frenetic seismic actively. The 1950 Assam-Tibet earthquake measured 8.6 on the Richter scale and was the strongest recorded as of that date. The epicenter was directly beneath the “Great Bend of the Yarlung Tsangpo”. Smaller earthquakes, landslides and earth fissuring plague the area to this day. The locals refer to the region as “tremor land”. Maintaining passable roads and trails is an ongoing effort.”
“India’s continued northward drift is warped by compounding lateral tensions. These counter tortions have created a "thrust-pivot point" whereby the earth’s surface is pleated and bent back upon itself like a geologic gymnast. Easily recognized on the map as the horseshoe shaped “Great Bend of the Yarlung Tsangpo”, this pivot point is the heart of the Hidden Lands. It contains the deepest gorge in the world - 19,714 feet (almost 4 miles). Comparing this to the southwest United States, Grand Canyon’s depth of 6,093 feet helps put its immensity in perspective.
In 1993 the Guinness Book of World Records recognized the inner gorge of the “Great Bend of the Yarlung Tsangpo” as the deepest in the world.
Equally challenging were the occasional mud bogs. We were driving east into one of the wettest regions on the planet. Every now and then when negotiating a puddle the land cruisers would sink to their axels. Hopelessly stuck, we would all have to pile out, lock the hubs into four wheel drive, and push the truck out of the mire. Invariably, when it started to move and gain some purchase the driver would gun it spackling each of us with mud from head to toe."
"From Pelung east it was all new territory for us.
A little further down the road we entered “landslide alley”. This five mile stretch was notorious for its unpredictable mountain slides. Here the rain soaked soil was just too heavy to support itself. The sloughing scarification looked like gigantic open sores. The winding road inched along 600 feet above the rushing currents of the Parlung Tsangpo. Stories were legion of trucks and busses being swept into the churning waters below. Several wreckages remained - crumpled and half submerged.
With this type of visible ground movement I started to understand the local people’s strong belief in earth spirits. It wasn’t uncommon for an entire village to slough off the side of a mountain. Keeping passable roads and trails was virtually impossible. This geologic shifting could be felt and heard constantly. It was to become a major consideration when setting our camps. And the unceasing earth fissuring put the danger of hiking Pemako hillsides on par with dodging glacial crevasses in the Antarctic. These yawning gaps would open at a moment’s notice.
I remember crossing one dangerous zone in particular. My brothers and I were crammed in the back seat. Todd was on the hillside, I was in the middle and Troy was cliff side. As the land cruiser crawled along the near vertical incline a Volkswagen-sized bolder suddenly came crashing down the landslide chute. It was headed in our general direction and both Troy and I screamed and pointed. Todd looked over, saw it, and frantically began rolling up his window. The boulder missed us by a good thirty feet and we all three burst into laughter. “Thanks a lot Todd!” Troy and I said in unison. His rolling up the window to protect us from a hurdling three ton boulder was like zipping up your tent door so the bear doesn’t get in.
After that we got out and walked the more exposed stretches. I felt bad for the driver. But even walking was a risk. In addition to never knowing when the hillside would collapse - smaller stones and baseball sized rocks whizzed by from heights you couldn’t see. You had to pay attention. It was obvious some of the landslides had just occurred. The soil was lose and disheveled with freshly fallen rocks all over. Where some of the recent slides blocked the road you could see where prior drivers shoveled an angled track. There were two narrow places in particular where I don’t know how we could have cut it any closer.
Once thorough, we all thanked Buddha and Pemako’s benevolent Padmasambhava and continued on our way."
More to follow!
Yours in reclusion,