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Nepal – Way Back When (1980) Part Two: To Manang…..and back?

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Part One was about our trek in the Solukhumbu District. From there, Andreas and I returned to Kathmandu, reconnected with Steve and John, indulged in the delights of that fascinating town and then began planning our next trip. We decided to bus to the town of Dumre, walk up the Marsyangdi River valley to the village of Manang (132 km), go over the Thorong La (pass), through Muktinath and then follow the famous Kali Gandaki River to the town of Jomson or Tatopani. Information regarding conditions on the pass, transportation links and access to the still, closed-to-visitors, district of Mustang, all of which were on the other side of the pass, was vague at best (N.B. – This trek is now referred to as the Annapurna Circuit) Regrettably, in the end, I never got over the pass nor ever reconnected with my hiking buddies again, so those details regarding the ‘other side’ remain obscure to this day.

It was on the bus from Kathmandu to Dumre that I experienced my first bout of serious cramps and diarrhea (a tale told in Part One) but it was certainly not my last. Nonetheless, I was still feeling strong after three weeks of hiking in the Everest region and was able to keep up with the guys. This wasn’t to last.

A typical village en route, quite different from the the Everest region. There was very little, if any, tourism-related development. Climbing expeditions had been accessing the region for years but they were typically self-contained, demanding few services from the villages along the way. With increasing altitude, the village culture, housing style, agricultural practices, etc. all changed accordingly.
A backstrap loom, a simple, ancient technology used by cultures around the world.
This stretch of the Marsyangdi River valley was exceptionally rugged. The villages small, poor and perched precariously wherever topography permitted. Marihuana plants, growing like weeds, were often seen alongside the path.
It wasn’t just the countryside that was rugged! Running into this tough looking pair, if alone, would be unsettling. Despite their rather thuggish appearance, we never felt any animosity or threat from the locals.
Getting thinner by the day, but still standing. My trusty Lowe Expedition pack served me well as did my camera bag with its two rugged Olympus OM1 cameras. In those days we shot slide film and I carried the precious, exposed rolls for months before finally getting them developed back home.
The giant sweep of these granite slabs was impressive and, in my experience, unique geography. The fellow on horseback was the local postman. We crossed paths a couple of times as we worked our way up the valley. As I remember, he was the only person on horseback we saw in the country.
The village of Manang. Whether I wanted to or not, I was going to get know this town.

(Left) Animals on the ground floor, living on the main and fodder up top. (Right)Nice architectural detailing

Looking down onto Manang. On this day we were supposed to be on an altitude acclimatization hike but this was as far as I got – the other three went higher. I was too weak from my persistent gastro-intestinal illness and showing little sign of improvement. Later that night, after returning to the village, John, Steve and Andreas decided to do the big push for the pass the next day, a 1900 M climb to 5416 M (17,769′). I would follow later if my strength returned, unlikely as that seemed. N.B. – Though I never reconnected with any of my trekking buddies to find out how their crossing went, I suspect that their fitness and acclimatization was such that they powered over without difficulty. In those days, there was one, lonely, unheated and unoccupied hut below the pass that trekkers could shelter in for the night, before going over the pass the following morning and making the long descent to Muktinath. Now, I see on Google Map, there is a series of comfortable tea houses offering both food and lodging!

Unable to continue, I ended up spending the next three nights in Manang. During this time I met a group of American climbers who had a doctor on their team. Somehow (I don’t recall how) he figured I had amoebic dysentery and generously, gave me a course of an amoebicide from the expedition pharmacy.

Another day, while sitting propped up against the wall of a home and trying to gain some strength from the sun’s rays, an old man approached me and mimed ‘What’s up?’ I responded in similar fashion, as best I could. He then took my arm and began tapping on my wrist, where one would typically take a pulse. In my ignorance (or should I say arrogance) I assumed he was incorrectly copying what he’d seen practiced by some western doctor or nurse. After his assessment, he looked at me knowingly, then proceeded to pull out a dirty looking rag from amongst his equally dirty clothing and unwrapped a small brown lump of something organic-looking. He broke off a piece and encouraged me to swallow it. I took it in my mouth, pretended to swallow and left the bitter morsel under my tongue. I mimed my thanks profusely, saw him on his way then promptly spat out whatever it was.

Years later I was to learn that in the ancient practice of Tibetan medicine, pulse analysis is a highly refined art, requiring skill and in-depth knowledge. Regrettably, I was never to know the efficacy of his diagnosis and prescription.

(Left) The view of Gangapurna from the outhouse of my accommodation in Manang. I spent a lot of time here, enjoying this stupendous view. (Right) Beautiful Annapurna II.

And then, on my forth morning in Manang, I woke up to this……20 cm of fresh snow! Feeling marginally better (the amoebicide was kicking in) and realizing the Thorong La would now be impassable, I decided to head back down the valley with Pokhara as my destination, maybe a 6 day walk. Shortly after leaving Manang, these three guys (see below) caught up with me. N.B.- I was to learn later that on the night of the snowstorm, three trekkers and their guide were caught out somewhere on the pass and tragically, all succumbed to the elements.
Inadequately clothed and in their bare feet, these three were low-altitude porters hired to bring gear to base camp for a climbing expedition. Paid off, they were now headed home. I distributed some extra clothing and joined them as we walked down the valley. This shot is from the following, much warmer day with the sun shining. By this point, I felt a little less guilty about having them stand motionless in the snow for the photo.
The porters and I spent that first night together. As the paying guest I was allowed to sleep in the family’s home while the three porters were relegated to a manger-like outbuilding. I joined them for awhile, around a fire. One of the porters took this shot. The young boy in the middle was the son of the home owner. The four of us continued together the next morning but they were clearly faster and stronger than me, so we soon parted ways. (Note the plastic bags in my footwear. An early version of Gortex-lined hiking boots.)
The following night, much lower in elevation, now warmer and clear of snow, was spent under this shelter. A nearby hot spring and some good Nepali hash (courtesy of my companion, of whom I can’t remember a thing. Must have been the hash!) made for a fine evening.

(Left) The manager. (Right) The hot spring.

I don’t recall how the decision was made but instead of continuing down the valley to Dumre, I heard about an alternative trail, not part of the usual trekking circuit, that cut west directly to Pokhara. It was through the heart of Gorkha District (from whence come the famous Gurkha soldiers……. I think??. . from what I understand, the names Gorkha and Gurkha are more or less interchangeable). Most bizarrely, I was told that Prince Charles, of all people, had recently walked this same route. With no more details forthcoming I decided to follow the path of the future King. The curious boys above were maybe thinking I was the much poorer cousin to the prince.
I thoroughly enjoyed the 3 or 4 days it took to walk through this ‘off the beaten track’ region. Food and accommodation was of the most basic variety to which, by this time, I had grown accustomed, moreover my appetite had returned. Neither foreigner nor foreign influence was to be seen which, for me, represents the ultimate travel experience…….why, I can’t really say.
And finally, it was back to Katmandhu. A few days of pigging out at the pie shops and then I was on a flight to Delhi….and a wholly different world. The man above was, I believe, a jeweler working on a piece that he held between his toes.
An underage laborer arc-welding in his flip-flops, wearing sunglasses and no gloves. Its a different world!
Streets full of life!

6 thoughts on “Nepal – Way Back When (1980) Part Two: To Manang…..and back?”

  1. Dear Jim and Claire.. I thank you most sincerely for this amazing piece,,, which transports me to th

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  3. Thanks Jim & Claire

    You time travelled me back to a wonderful visit I had in Napal, ,,,,, & a younger me !

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  4. Great story. How things have changed since the 70’s and 80’s hiking in Nepal! Your pictures bring back many memories. Interesting story about the Tibetan healer and his remedy that may have worked! Will be great to hear Claires and Nina’s stories of current conditions in Nepal for trekking.

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    1. Thanks Ella. Yes, big changes on the sub-continent. I would like to go back some day but wasn’t invited on the mother/daughter trek. 😉 I guess Claire told you that her hiking buddy Carmen, and Carmen’s daughter are going with Claire and Nina. I’m sure they’ll have much more fun without me along.

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