24 September 2016 Druk Path Trek Bhutan
This is my birthday story – that tells of trekking from 3,000 to 4,000 metres on my 64th birthday. I am not a trekker. I did it. In hindsight, it has made me more confident in what I can do. At the time it was hard slog in a beautiful place.
We woke to “room service” and a lookout on a clear, quiet, beautiful lake with a small cairn like structure in front of us with a light dusting of mist across the surface.
After breakfast we set off across meadows bordered by forests dripping with mossy Grandfathers beard. Throughout the meadows were large patches of multi-coloured lichen gardens. Tshering and I found good use for the Grandfather’s Beard!
When you had the chance to look into the forest while walking along there were many varieties of mushrooms some jellyfish like, some tiny fragile stalks, some earth coloured, others large rounded with bright colours.
As expected the track soon passed through the meadow and became again the muddy quagmire that we picked our way through. Wading through deep muddy paths, cautiously placing one foot after another hoping not to sink beyond the top of our boots, clinging to narrow muddy ledges with our much-appreciated hiking poles.
Along the way were spectacular moments of waterfalls, misted valleys, twisted forests. Appreciated more later when the walking stopped. Like cuckoos we had our lunch in someone else’s nest – a borrowed tent.
The final stretch was over loose rock with water flowing along it.
What did I do today to keep one foot in front of the other in a forward motion –
First strategy I would chant my Green Tara mantra taught by Tshering:
Singing to myself, sometimes even out loud. As I climbed on my birthday the lines of the Beatles song ran over and over – “When I’m 64”
Finally reaching our new campsite. Our camp had been set up beside a larger misted lake with an expansive meadow and our little ponies wandering around the tents.
Called to dinner – it was a very black night and strangely no light from the dining tent. As we entered the camp (torch) light hung from the tent roof flickered on to reveal all our crew surrounding the gingham topped table. Balloons hung from the roof and at the centre of the table – a birthday cake.
The cake was ornately decorated – on closer inspection there were tomato flowers and carrot garnish.
A lovely and unexpected surprise. What a wonderful end to a challenging exhilerating day.
Once settled back in our tent for the night it began to rain. The ponies seemed to wander all night around the tent between us and the lake. Throughout a wakeful night I was convinced the little ponies were going to gate crash our tent at any moment.
