Annapurna Base Camp With A Walking Stick

Today I had to dig deep.  My legs, back, shoulders and mind were fatigued from five consecutive and arduous days of trekking six to ten hours, but I had to make two steep accents before reaching my final destination - Australian Base Camp.  Since departing ways with my new friends, I decided - for no reason other than my attitude in supporting small, local farms in Minnesota – to eat and rest at smaller villages along the remaining Anaupurna trek.  

Approaching Annapurna Base Camp with my original walking stick.

I must have appeared tired because people seemed extra friendly and helpful.  One village lady, without my knowledge, noticed my valuable stick that had been part of my trek since day one and presented me with a lighter stick without a gash on the top.  At first I was shocked and slightly offended that someone would not think that my stick was beautiful and important.  My stick had become a quick attachment and friend.  I found it immediately after I "fired" my porter during the first day of my trek (it's not as bad as it sounds, ask me for the whole story).  I was sitting in tall grass off the trail scratching my head as I pondered how I was going to carry my way-too-heavy-backpack up the mountain alone.  I looked to my right, and there was my stick, glistening in the sun and speaking to me: "I will make your trek easier, just pick me up."  My stick never did me wrong and stayed true to its valuable words.   It became a good laugh among my trekking peers when I would lose it temporarily or briefly leave it behind in villages.  My backpack was also the brunt of many jokes as it was the heaviest on the trail. And by that I mean, it was heavier than what most of the porters carried.  People often grabbed my bag to compare it to theirs and always, to their surprise, it was much heavier.  The weight of my bag then became a guessing game...at least 15k, 20k, no 25k...and so the estimations went.  My quadriceps, however, were well aware of the weight upon them and despised my backpack with nearly every step.  I did not complain though and took it as an extra challenge.  I'm just glad that it could provide an easy subject of conversation on the trail.  

I was often seen ripping pages out of my books and boiling water in hopes of making my bag a little lighter.  As a result, I was given many nicknames, including "Crazy Girl" and "Crazy Princess." My backpack can easily be seen in two ways: that I'm an unexperienced, high maintenance hiker who believes she needs all of the items in her backpack to climb a mountain or that I'm a strong women who wanted the extra challenge of carrying more weight.   The truth is, I packed more because I thought I would have a porter, but he couldn’t keep up and so I had to accept the extra weight.

Trekking friends from Nepal, Germany, and Ireland

Trekking mates including a New Zealand couple.

But back to my stick dilemma.  I held both sticks deciding what to do - I just couldn't part ways with my precious stick.  I asked if I could take both, knowing that I still had my last major accent ahead.  The village lady shook her head yes, and I happily walked on to the next village with two sticks.  

Once again, another concerned lady looked at my sticks and quickly found a lighter, taller stick to go with my other new stick.  Oh no! I can't say good-bye to my eight-day-old stick.  I just can't.  But I did.  She was right.  With regret, I said goodbye to my biggest attachment on the hike.  I did not have internet, a phone, alcohol, familiar faces, or standard American food, and it didn't matter because I had my walking stick, a few good books, and great new companions.  

To my surprise, the sadness did not last long, as I was soon beaming with delight as I walked with my two light-weight sticks.  In a way I felt like I was cross-country skiing, or at least that's what I was trying to visualize in the sunny, 80-some degree weather surrounded by monkeys in jungle trees as I climbed 1136 (not that I was counting) jagged, uneven rock stairs in record time.  Using two sticks to descend approximately the same amount of steps was blissful.  My knees were so happy not to be crushed under the weight of my pack.  I will never have negative, judgmental thoughts when I see people using sticks or hiking poles.  I once thought that only old and/or "wimpy" people used poles.  But no, intellectuals that don't care what others think of them use poles.  These rational people want to use their whole body to hike and not just their quadriceps and knees.  A man I was trekking with worked at a camping store and said that trekking poles take 50% of your weight off of your knees.  So please my dear friends, be kind to your bodies the next time you hike and pick up a walking stick!     

Sincerely,
Sassy Cow

Arrival to Australian Base Camp - final destination.  Sunset.

Hello Mr. Yak!  I just bought a scarf made of your wool!

Yes, I'm guilty of feeding this stray dog "treats" just to keep him around.

Donkeys are great companions on the trail.

You never know what is coming at you on the Annapurna Trail...

Bangkok in a Tuk Tuk...

...but first there is Koh Samui on a motor bike. This small island has one main road with two stoplights, no police, and a large population of motor bikes. I thought that taking a motor bike out on the wrong side of the road would be an easy task considering my time on mini bikes and dirt bikes as a kid and my time driving a moped to and from work. Nope, none of this mattered. Motor bikes in Koh Samui go at all speeds, pass on all sides, and have multiple babies and kids on board with a mother talking or texting on her phone. No joke, it was crazy! But it was the most efficient ($6-10/day) means of getting from point A to B, so motor biking we went! Surprisingly, Chris and I only had a few kerfuffles on the motor bike and managed to leave the island in one piece.

We lived a hard life of doing yoga twice a day, kayaking, paddle boarding, eating delicious Thai food, and relaxing as much as Chris and I are capable of doing. It was truly the "vacation" part of my trip. I very much enjoyed having a travel mate for 10 days. Actually, I'm not sure if I would have survived Bangkok without Chris. Well, let me rephrase that, I wouldn't have been able to do some activities in Bangkok without Chris. I would have also bought clothes (not that we did any of that at a night market) for too much money and would would have had no means of bringing them back with me. I am one lucky girl.

One day in Bangkok was enough for our taste. We saw Wat Pho, also known as the Temple of the Reclining Buddha. We walked around markets by the river before taking a Tuk Tuk to a night market on Khao San Road. A Tuk Tuk is a three-wheeled motor taxi (see picture below). The night market is incomparable to anything in Minnesota. I wanted to describe it by contrasting it to a farmer's market or the state fair, but it's just too unique. It's a provocative, hodgepodge market selling knock-offs of every sort. It is rowdy with bars and street music. We indulged in street food and had a hard time deciding between a foot massage and a tattoo. I will let you conjecture which one Chris decided upon.

My surreal vacation in Thailand has now ended. I arrived yesterday to political uproar in Nepal. They are on "strike," which means that a large portion of Kathmandu is shut down. But not to worry, I am currently sitting at an organic cafe on a circle cushion cross-legged at a table that is about two feet high. I'm wearing Nepali clothing (shoulders and legs down to calves covered), eating vegetable korma (vegetables and rice served in coconut and cashew curry) and drinking green tea. Despite chaos on the streets, I have had nothing but kind and genuine interactions. I feel safe and calm in this humble country.

I'm not exactly sure what's in store for me these next two weeks. I do know that I will be disconnecting almost completely except to tell family my whereabouts and that I'm alive and well. That being said, this will be my last blog entry until I return to Minnesota. Goodbye my friends and thank you very much for caring enough to read my blog. I will see you back in Minnesota.

In and Out with Geraldine

Where would one be without the lovely, quaint town of Geraldine and the amazing hospitality of Bev and Walt? I'm sure I would have been left out to dry in New Zealand. Bev and Walt opened their doors to a complete stranger. I actually received their contact information from a patient at The Masonic Cancer Clinic. They didn't know a thing about me except that I was a nurse in Minnesota. It didn't matter though, they greeted and farewelled me at the airport with giant hugs. They drove me to and from the airport, they fed me, they took me to the doctor, Walt took me out in his truck for a lesson in driving a manual on the wrong side of the road, I had a private bed and clean towels (I'm so over hostel living and using my camp towel. It was a luxury to have my own bed in my own room and to use a full-size cotton towel), I had reliable free internet, and I had great laundry facilities. My heart swells with gratitude. Bev and Walt's kindness and genuine concern for my well-being were exuded through their words and actions. They were perfectly placed at the start and end of my New Zealand adventures. Below is a "must see" in Geraldine--it is recognized by the "Guinness Book of Records" as the largest jersey in the world! Also below is the "Yield" sign of New Zealand. "Give Way" sounds more open and inviting than yield. It's also an appropriate travel mantra..."Give way to what lies ahead." And what lies ahead is a dream vacation in Koh Samui involving yoga, kayaking, amazing food, and Chris (http://www.evolutionofyoga.com/)!!!

Life In A Campervan

It was so great to see my mom and Tim in New Zealand! Even though we were in New Zealand, I felt at home traveling with family. Driving a manual campervan is no easy feat. Tim navigated the windy, narrow roads of New Zealand with ease...as long as my mom was sitting in the back. We did it all in our four short days together--bungee jumping from the world's first bungy (sorry, pictures cannot be disclosed for proof at this time), zip-lining through dense forests, taking a cruise in Doubtful Sound, and tramping around Milford Sound. I enjoyed getting to know Tim more and was impressed by how well my mom and Tim embraced the uncertainties and handled the obstacles that come with traveling in an unfamiliar environment. The New Zealand saying "no worries" became commonplace in the campervan, and greatly helped my mom relax in the back seat, or so she said.

Life in a campervan ended when I was dropped off at the start of the Routeburn Track. My last tramp in New Zealand provided stunning alpine views. And, my pack was a bit lighter this time around, or maybe my back and shoulders are adjusting to the weight. I now feel like one with my pack. It feels like something is missing when it isn't strapped tightly to my body. Does this mean I'm becoming a true tramper?

Nelson

I LOVE Nelson and started developing a nice routine of biking, yoga, hiking, running, drinking amazing coffees, and eating delicious food. I can run up a mountain/hill right from my hostel and bike down to the beach within minutes. People's appreciation for food and attraction to a healthy lifestyle are reflected in the Saturday Market, which to me, is the Mill City Market X3. This morning, before going to the market, I biked to the beach for a yoga lesson on a paddle board. What a great concept! I loved it! Maybe I will start a business on Lake Calhoun when I get back. ;)

I have to leave Nelson before becoming too attached. Tomorrow morning I part ways from this wonderful city and hop on a bus to Queenstown, where I will meet my mom and Tim! I will then partake in camper-van living for 5 days. I am so excited!

One photo is the quote today at my favorite tavern, Sprig and Fern on Milton Street.

Heaphy Track

I was craving hut-living. I was yearning for jungle-like mountains. I really just wanted to carry my way-too-heavy-for-one-night pack up a mountain. Why not? I will say that the pack was too heavy, not because of my inexperience in packing, which may be a small part of it, but because I packed for four nights total--three nights in a hostel, one night in a hut. I didn't have enough time to complete the entire 5-day tramp, but I wanted to taste this Great Walk. So up 18K I went to stay in the new and beautiful Perry Saddle Hut. I had to be back down by 1015 the next morning, which made for a bit of an adventure. Signs said it takes 5 hours to get back, I allowed a bit over three hours. Let's just say I was still walking to the pick-up spot as the van rolled in. Whew! I actually almost missed my connecting bus back to Nelson...the bus driver started driving away as I came out from the bathroom!

The sunset photo is from the hostel in Golden Bay.

Someone From Buffalo, MN in New Zealand, No Way!

My brother Kyler recently e-mailed me and I nearly fell off my seat when he said a friend of his would be in New Zealand around the same time of my travels. If anyone knows my brother, they would agree that it's quite remarkable that he has a friend that would travel to such exotic places as New Zealand. What? Not up north to go fishing or hunting? He often rolls his eyes and calls me crazy whenever I talk about my next travel adventures. The funny thing is, I met his friend Michael in Nelson! Ironically, I was in the Nelson library when Michael e-mailed me saying he missed his bus and was coming through Nelson. So Michael from Buffalo, MN and I grabbed a coffee at Yellow Cafe in New Zealand!

Farewell Spit with Two Germans and a Dutch

Farewell Spit is considered the "longest natural sandbar in the world." It is also the windiest sandbar in the world, but I guess that's what makes the beautiful, fascinating sand dunes. The pictures below don't even do it justice. I will get back to the dunes, but before doing so, I want discuss relationships.

Hostel living has its positives and negatives. One positive is making connections with people and sharing experiences with them. I enjoy traveling alone, especially tramping alone at my own pace, but I'm quickly learning that new experiences are more meaningful and joyful when shared with others. I simply can't make myself laugh the way I did today and other days when traveling with others. I've shared a bottle of wine with just about everyone, I've split baked goods with Anne from the Netherlands, played cards with Victor from Germany, split fish and chips with Landon from Canada, and went on day hikes in Nelson with Pieter from the Netherlands. Today was extra special because I got to share a ride and tramp with three companionable, open, and fun people. We had a blast exploring the Golden Bay of New Zealand. Who knew two Germans, a Dutch, and an American could have so much fun? Not only did we spend the day together, we also shared two nights in a 6-bunk hostel room along with two girls from Japan! I recently read an article from the U of M Center of Spirituality and Healing website stating 148 studies show that social isolation is as detrimental for your health as smoking 15 cigarettes per day, as dangerous as being an alcoholic, and twice as dangerous as obesity! Wow, that is quite fascinating! It goes on to say that, "We are social beings – we have an innate need to be involved with others and create complex interactions. Friendships, family bonds, and participation in social activities not only increase our sense of security and self-esteem, but also provide a psychological buffer against stress, depression and anxiety." I can't agree more. My trip only solidifies the truth behind these studies. Farewell Spit wouldn't have been the same experience walking on the dunes alone. If it wasn't for Markus from Germany taking multiple photos of me, I wouldn't have proof that I was truly there. I wouldn't have done crazy yoga poses on the sand which led to an amazing yoga lesson with Anne later that night! All of the pictures below are from hiking along the most northern part of New Zealand, including Farewell Spit.