In early March, I attempted the Annapurna Circuit trek in Nepal with a good friend, Misha. Together, we hiked over 130 miles and reached a maximum altitude of just under 14,000 feet. Unfortunately, record snow conditions made the circuit too dangerous to complete, so we turned around prior to the 18,000 foot Thorong La pass.
Anybody interested in trekking has probably heard about the famous Annapurna Circuit, and any quick web-search will yield dozens of blog posts recounting various trekkers’ experiences.
Yet, until now, none of those blog posts define the trek in terms of the animals encountered along the way. (If you’re looking for non-animal photos, see this gallery).
Enjoy “Annapurna Animals!”
Day 1: All smiles!
The excitement and relief of finally being on the Himalayas–knowing that, for the next twelve days, our schedule would entirely be eating, drinking, walking, and sleeping– and Misha and I couldn’t help but smile. When we finally stepped off the rickety public bus after an eight hour drive from Kathmandu, the sun was dropping below the mountains. We threw on our packs and hiked into the darkness.
Day 1 took us just over 6 miles from the town Bhulbhule to Ngadi. We landed on a guesthouse with a friendly hostess who cooked us the Nepali staple: Dal Bhat. This meal is a concoction of rice, curried potatoes and veggies, and Dal (onion/ginger) soup. Dal Baht is wonderful because it costs around $3 and is all-you-can-eat! With full stomachs and tried legs, we enjoyed a decent night’s sleep.
Day 2: Weighed down
After a breakfast of more potatoes and Yerba Mate–which we both lugged from Patagonia–we hit the road. We immediately met two lovely Italian trekkers, Anna and Magdalena, whom we shared the first few hours with and would see many times over the next week. Yet, as the Italians chose to continue along the traditional Annapurna Circuit trail, Misha and I experienced a monumental upwelling of ambition and decided on the “alternate” trail: one that demands an additional several thousand feet of elevation as it dances high along the ridge above the river. About four miles into our scenic detour, we traversed a swaying suspension bridge and began a completely-vertical 1,000 foot climb. The stairs were never-ending, and on either side of the narrow path was sheer cliff. The view from the summit? Grazing goats. Then the 1,000 foot descent back onto the traditional path.
By night, we had walked over 13 miles and spent the night in Chyamchaye. We indulged a liter of lemon-ginger-honey tea and Dal Baht.
Day 3: Who let it snow in the goddamn jungle?
On this day, the scenery changed completely. The river’s echoes through the massive gorge gave way to the steady crunch of snow under our feet, and the already-tall adjacent mountains gave way to textbook, neck-craning Himalayan giants. Today, we woke up early and hiked, again, till dark. The last leg of the hike took us through a Jumanji-esque forest painted with snowy vines, eroding trails, and terrifying landslide zones conveniently located near cliffs. We knew something was strange when we found snow in the jungle. With frozen noses and soaked feet, we stumbled into a cozy wooden Tibetan guesthouse. We sat on the floor in a smoky, carpeted kitchen, warming ourselves around the wood-burning stove, as our hostesses prepared Dal Baht and Tibetan Bread (something similar to a donut).
Day 4: You shall not pass!
On this day we woke up late and hiked, inconveniently, into a blizzarding once-apple-orchard-now-winter-wasteland at sunset. Our hike took us through a recent landslide zone where we sank up to our shins in cold mud and could hear the deep groans of the unstable hillside, occasionally witnessing mini-landslides. Soon, the snow was coming down heavily and we were quite cold. When it came time to find a place to stay, we knocked on the doors of a massive farmhouse-like structure. The owners quoted a price for the night that was thirty times higher than any other we had encountered. Upset, we stomped uphill into the snow and ice. When it became apparent that it was too dangerous to move in the dark to the next town, and the overpriced farmhouse was the only housing option in town, we tucked our tails between our legs and returned. We shall not pass this town.
We negotiated. And negotiated. And finally we agreed to sleep in the loft dormitory for a reasonable price. Low and behold! Our Italian friends would share the room with us! Suddenly a seemingly-sour end to a wonderful day changed notes. Without electricity, we enjoyed a candlelit dinner and fun night with our Italian friends.
Day 5: Hindsight
We woke up pre-dawn and left without eating breakfast. We wanted to escape the haunted farmhouse and apple orchard town. As the hike continued to take us into deeper snow and closer to the fabled Annapurna Mountains. The trail became tricky: when it was warm, every-few steps landed us knee-deep in slushee snow. When it was cold, the icy trail became a source of slippage and arse bruising. We reached the town Upper Pisang at 2:00pm. We considered continuing on the path, but thirty minutes into our walk we deemed the area too risky to continue. We called it a day and enjoyed a relaxing afternoon and night in Upper Pisang, even meeting a group of Californian trekkers!
Why is this day labeled “hindsight”? The very path Misha and I considered taking but turned around from killed two trekkers in an avalanche shortly thereafter. Our decision to stay the day and take a longer, but safer route the next, could very well have saved our lives. The tragedy of the trekker’s deaths reminded us of the importance of risk management and that record snowfall poses new risks not seen in the Circuit before.
Day 6: Schlumped
Day six was brutal. We woke up early and enjoyed (surprise) Dal Baht. The hearty potatoes and carbo-loading rice appropriately earned Dal Baht the slogan: “Dal Baht Power, 24 Hour!” We didn’t even need lunch if we ate Dal Baht for breakfast. And on this day, we used every last bit of Dal Baht’s legendary nourishment to carry us across the grueling snowfields to Manang. The path was not notably long–only 9 miles–but the trail was absolutely exhausting. With bright sun reflecting on the snow, it was impossible to escape the UV glare. Even covering up entirely with glasses, gloves, long-sleeves, a face mask, and a hood, the sun sapped our energy. The snowfield was long and flat, creating mirage-like illusions. Thankfully, the surrounding 25,000+ foot peaks and breathtaking scenery helped keep our morale up. When we finally arrived in Manang, we stayed in a large inn populated with trekkers eagerly waiting for Thorong La Pass–the Trek’s 18,000 foot crux–to open. From the second floor of the inn, we watched the hundreds of yak, goats, and horses return to their homes after grazing all day. Misha dubbed this daily phenomenon the “animal parade.” At night, we watched “Into Thin Air” with the other trekkers, which morbidly reminded us of the importance of safe decision-making.
Day 7: On top of the world
Alas! A layover day! Misha and I woke up around 7am, enjoyed a breakfast of not Dal Baht, and set out to explore the sacred hills near Manang. We both grappled with the altitude–wheezing like asthmatic cross country runners–as we explored Tibetan holy sites and made our way to a Monastery perched on a ridge. After visiting the monastery, we hiked up the tall ridge and enjoyed a scenic cup of maté and Clif bar, reflecting on our lives and friendship.
Misha is my oldest friend, and I am his youngest. Yet, we both find something valuable and enjoyable from adventuring together. It’s hard for me to label, but I know that there’s something special about friendships that transcend unlikelihoods like age, culture, and background.
Before returning for the nightly animal parade, we meditated on the hillside. At dinner, our metabolism had finally caught up. No amount of Dal Baht would fill us. After requesting a fourth refill, the chef himself came out bearing a massive pot of rice and veggies, dumped an insurmountable volume of the food for us to eat, and snickered. You really want a fourth refill? Eat this! Inconveniently, we both became full at that moment. In order to protect our pride, we forced down the food and became sick. Our friends at dinner found this hysterical.
Day 8: Himalayas giveth, Himalayas taketh
From Manang, we made the decision to return the way we came and not attempt the pass. All factors considered, pushing on would be too risky, especially without technical gear. Unfortunately, we had to walk through the brutal snowfields again. The return trek was even more grueling, for the snow had melted so much that every other step yielded a waist deep punch-through. It was like walking through a minefield: will this step plunge me into an icy, watery mess? Just when I thought a foothold was sturdy, it would cave in and I’d have to dig myself out. For 9 miles. In order to avoid projecting our frustration, Misha and I walked yards apart. This day was the most grueling thus far, both physically and mentally.. Exhausted, sopping wet, and with demolished egos, we sought refuge in a guesthouse in Lower Pisang.
Day 9: Trekker’s best friend
Because of the record snow, many of the places we stayed that normally had electricity, hot showers, and even WiFi no longer had any of those. By day 9 we were approaching “filthy” and heard rumors of hot springs in Chame. Chame is a short 9-mile walk from Lower Pisang. We skidded downhill on the last patches of snow, enjoyed the lasting solid ground, and indulged the beautiful scenery along the way. We even returned through the landslide zone, which now had decimated a large portion of the road. In Chame, we found those hot springs: a trekker’s best friend. Soaking in the pools for several hours, sipping maté, and washing in the warm water helped reset our morale after a grueling last two days and disappointment of not being able to complete the circuit.
Day 10: Old Dog and Young Dog
Day 10 was magical. We woke up early and completed a 18-mile hike, finishing in the farming town of Tal. Although we’d done the trail once before, the return trip felt quite different. On the final five miles, as the dusk settled and all of the colors seemed to pop with more vibrancy, I paused on a small hill waiting for Misha. When Misha came into view, he was being guided by two golden mountain dogs. The dogs charged towards me and quickly demonstrated that they were not a threat. High on a steep mountainside, ducking under overgrown bamboo, these dogs slobbered and wagged their tails to greet us. They darted up and down the hillside, following the same path we took. The old graying dog, limping but still enthusiastic, traveled at our pace. The young dog darted ahead then patiently waited for us. For several miles, these dogs accompanied with us. It’s hard to not think of these two dogs as our spirit guides.
Once finally arriving in Tal long after dark, we inhaled massive quantities of tea and Dal Baht, found a gigantic spider in our room, and went to sleep.
Day 11: Light and fluffy
We woke up at a reasonable hour and only hiked 8 miles. It was a light day. At one point in the hike we found ourselves surrounded by hundreds of little wild marijuana plants. The air was warm, and Misha was even wearing shorts! We appreciated greenery that we did not have earlier in the alpine portion of the trek. At our final destination, we unloaded our bags and set out to find another hot spring! This hot spring was nestled in a gorge several hundred feet below the trail, directly next to the aggressive river. Floating in the calm warm water, watching the sun dip below the massive Himalayan mountains, and listening to the roaring river, we enjoyed a serene moment. As the stars came out, we finally returned to our guesthouse for Dal Baht and tea. Today was a light day.
Day 12: You again?
Our trip would not be complete if we didn’t climb the 1,000 foot staircase to goat-grazing heaven once more. The stairs were conveniently located across the gorge from our guesthouse, so we danced across a wobbly suspension bridge and started the climb. An unknown amount of time later, we summited and saw the goats. Again. They briefly acknowledged our presence, congratulating us on the summit, and continued munching on grass. Then, we descended 1,000 feet and went back across another suspension bridge. More uphill along a tall ridge, through terraced farmland, and past schools, our hike continued. Finally, we ended the day where we our journey started 12 days prior: Bhulbhule. Although the hike was a net downhill, this day still required over 3,000 feet of uphill hiking. We spent the night in a guesthouse, treated ourselves to Dal Baht, tea, and dessert, and prepared for the rickety bus ride back into the chaos of Kathmandu.
I hope you enjoyed this off-brand account of the Annapurna Circuit. Check out the Annapurna Circuit gallery to see non-animal photos from the trek!
–Andrew Buchanan