Travel. Climbing. Characters. True stories, well told.
This is a serialized feature, describing my travels in Nepal during Feb and March 2016. Entries are posted two or three times a week, varying in length from 250-1000 words. This is essentially a book-length travel memoir. Working title is “In Praise of Character in the Bleak inhuman Loneliness” but I’m not wedded to that. Everything in here is true. A few minor details may be changed in order to accommodate the fallibility of memory, protect identities, or improve narrative flow, but that’s all.
It’s a pretty good story with a solid emotional core. I hope you get something out of it.
It’s April, which means for climbers (and the world’s ultra-wealthy), it’s Everest season!
Throughout April and May, while the hordes descend (or rather ascend) on Everest, there are bound to be an endless number of news stories about successful summits, tragedies, and plenty of puff pieces about the logistics of the whole thing.
Want to learn a bit more authentically about what goes on up there?
You should watch this Joe Rogan podcast with Jeff Evans and Bud Brutsman, two guys who discuss their experiences climbing Mount Everest and managing rescue operations on the mountain in super-fascinating levels of detail. It’s two hours long, but compelling all the way through.
So, you’re thinking about going for a vacation trekking in Nepal? If you’d like to see what the experience is like, check out 10 Reasons Trekking in Nepal Should Be On Your Bucket List. If you’re more practical minded and just doing some research about what to pack for trekking in Nepal, read on:
Wow! One year and 111 chapters later, I’m done with this project!! What a ride. Thanks everyone for coming along with me on this journey. I’ve appreciated each and every reader more than you can know. I’ll drop some more in-depth thoughts about the process and what’s nextfor me next week, but for now,just enjoy the closing chapter of this story.
Some animal instinct warned me of impending change.
Sunlight was streaming onto my pallet-like bed in my room at the Annapurna Guesthouse. Dust shimmered in the sunbeam, leading the air an ethereal solidity. It looked like I could reach across the room and pluck the sunbeam straight out of the sky. It was a strangely beautiful sight.
Dust was inescapable in this city. Already, after only two days back in Kathmandu, my cough had come back.It would linger with me long after I returned home, a half-welcome reminder the damages wandering could inflict on a person.