Day Nine: Khangsar-Tilicho Base Camp
From the balcony of the dining hall, we saw two peaks – Pisang Peak (6091m) and Tilicho Peak (7132m) – in their full glory.
Joo Ho and Jung Ah looked much better this morning. The evening before, they looked pale as ghosts – having lost their way in Old Khangsar looking for the shortcut to Yak Kharka. They had met the German duo before Tare Gompa, and learned that Tilicho Base Camp was indeed closed for business. With their Tilicho dreams dashed, they u-turned and tried to make a beeline for Yak Kharka, the next stop towards Thorong-La. But the trails up in Old Khangsar were confusingly hidden, especially by the summer foliage. And the climb to Old Khangsar wasn’t your stroll in the park to begin with.
At breakfast, the Koreans told us they will head to Yak Kharka via the longer but much more navigable route via Tengi (visible from Manang and Khangsar). It was a small backtrack but anything bits losing one’s way in Old Khangsar again. We said grace – three Catholics and a Protestant – and prayed for safe journey, before parting ways.
Lodge owner Laxmi reminded us of a gypsy woman
Tilicho Peak, from Khangsar
Enroute to Tare Gompa, we met a lone Swiss lady called Parvika. She had just returned from Tilicho, managing a day trip from the last open lodge at Shree Kharka (one hour from Khangsar). She said the lake was beautiful, and she felt lucky because it had been cloudy the day before her visit. Later we would realise that she had done a super-long day trip – it was 4.5 hours from Khangsar to Tilicho Base Camp, and at another 3 hours from base camp to Tilicho Viewpoint. Even from Shree Karka, one way would have taken at least 6 hours.
Between Tare Gompa and Shree Kharka, we came to a contorted T-junction : west towards Tilicho, east, a seasonal trail to Yak Kharka. The skies were clear, Praise the Lord.
We encountered our first scree slopes on the way to the base camp. It was to become a landscape we would be very familiar with – 45-degree slopes of loose gravel with narrow footpaths haphazardly scrawled into its side. There was nothing to hold onto on the higher side, and a 300-metre fall into the river valley awaited the trekker with a single false step. You are constantly reminded on the consequence of carelessness - small stones tumble down the slope with every step you take. We were amazed how our porter manages his 30-kg load, without a trekking pole to steady his gait.
Scree slopes became a very familiar landscape for us
Tare Gompa
Tilicho Base Camp
At 1pm, we reached the scenic Tilicho Base Camp. The white lodge was nestled in a small valley, surrounded by hills on three sides. Danny was already preparing Rara noodles in Knorr chicken soup, with soggy Tibetan bread for dips.
Shortly after, our tents were set up, and we helped ourselves to a wooden bench from the lodge so we could sit back and take in the view. That’s the beauty of camping out in off-season – you camp for free (normally you pay half the room rates), you get the whole place to yourself (open toilet! yay!) and except hunting endangered species and illegal logging, you could do whatever you please.
Camping was sort of like a homecoming experience – back to basics, close to nature. You sleep on the ground, drink from streams, cook your own food with minimal equipment. It got me really interested in campcraft – I started asking about everything A-Z and watched eagerly as Khusang and Danny prepared for us our creature comforts.
As we waited for dinner to be ready, a pack of mules started wandering into our campsite. At first, they were wary of us, but soon, they were getting dangerously close to our tents. Danny threw some stones at them to make it clear we weren’t ready to get too friendly.
Dinner was taking some time, so I wandered off to make friends with the mules. In fact, we got so friendly I got to ride on them – thrice. First two times, I was lucky – no reins, no saddle, no problem. I’ve ridden horses quite a bit, so what’s the big deal about mules? Big mistake.
On my third ride, the mule panicked and I was thrown off. I landed squarely on my back onto a rocky outcrop. Desmond, who was calling me for dinner, witnessed the moment. I was totally stunned. For a moment, I thought was going to be paralysed. When the numbness went away and real pain hit home, I couldn’t use my left foot without feeling the hurt. As a result, I spent the entire night rubbing my sore back and praying very very hard I could wallk the next day.
Mules grazing near our campsite
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