These Boots Are Made For Walking

by Ruby Phipps-Black (New Zealand)

A leap into the unknown Nepal

One would think a little preparatory training would be in order before taking to the trails of the Nepalese Himalayas, feet packed snuggly in barely worn hiking boots, map in hand and a pack full of dreams and knock-off gear obtained in the wily, intoxicatingly confusing streets of Kathmandu. Somehow this hadn't occurred to me when I planned for my trip - I'm a wild side kind of a walker and so there I was in the foot hills of the Solukhumbu region, looking up to the mountains that were soon to become the omnipresent observers of my journey, contemplating myself as a bit of a fool. The destination, Gokyo Ri, was in fact only to be the half-way point - once I had reached this peak which was itself 2 weeks worth of solid hiking, I would be turning around and returning on the same route from which I had come, making up a grand total of 4 weeks hiking time. When I had conceived of the trip this notion had seemed romantic, however it didn't take long for reality to catch up to my long-held pipe dream. Even so, off I went into those mountains and for every step that brought me discomfort was another step that brought me deeper into the world of the Nepalese Sherpa people and the incredible landmass that shaped their culture. As I wound my way through the green foothills dotted with villages and thick rhododendron forests in full bloom I could not help but marvel at the wide smiles and greetings of "Namaste!" that met me on my path. If ever I was hungry, the next village was never too far away and a reliably nourishing meal of Dahl Baht Takaari could always be had. This is a staple meal in every sherpa household, usually served late morning with the leftovers being kept warm on the earthen kitchen hearth on which the sweet tea is also prepared - or if your palette is adventurous enough, Tibetan style tea served salty with yak butter. The trails were always busy with locals going about life though in the lower regions there was a distinct lack of other foreigners, due to the building of the airport that now services the upper reaches of the Solukhumbu region for those who wish to visit Everest Base Camp. For the sake of convenience many miss out on the delight that comes with traveling through the foothills and the local people now miss out on valuable income - such is the price of progress. Foolish as I was, the moment those mountains engulfed me any trace of regret was lost to my immersion in the experience. 1000m ascents, mountain passes, shoeless porters carrying dizzying loads, prayer wheels, monastries, yak cheese, and so it went until I was walking amongst some of the highest mountain peaks in the world. As I journeyed past each of the five lakes that make up the worlds highest fresh water lake system, clear light blue and set starkly against harsh black peaks, I considered the silence of those mountains and how it was at once oppressive and liberating. It is easy to see how Buddhism took such strong root in the peoples living at the mercy of that silence. After staying the night in Gokyo village, a lonely settlement on the edge of Dudh Pokhari lake, I made my final ascent up to Gokyo peak. The view was surreal. Glacial peaks surrounded me, and massive black ravens rode the winds nearby creating striking contrast against the numerous colorful prayer flags that billowed out on those same winds. Beside me at head height a bronze buddha statue sat facing towards Everest, whose peak could be seen in the distance. Words cannot describe this ethereal beauty. The age old cliche that tells us that it is the journey that counts more so than the destination may in fact have applied to my own journey however I think I always understood that with some of the most trialing experiences come the most valuable rewards and my now well worn hiking boots can testify to that fact. One thing is for sure - these boots are made for walking.