Trekking to Annapurna, Part Two

I had my doubts about whether we would really reach the base of Annapurna. Ever since we talked with a Canadian at the Taj Mahal in India who related his tales of thefts and blizzards on the last stretch of the trail, combined with the sky-high altitude, I had become somewhat resigned to the idea that we may make it 90% of the way there, only to be turned back at the last moment.

Finally, the nighttime hours leading up to our pre-dawn push to Annapurna Sanctuary came. It was cold but the air and trail were clear of snow. Of the four of us, Tom left first to reach the area by sunrise. Laurel left with Pragya and me, but pushed ahead faster. The full moon hung like beacon above Annapurna to the west and guided us up the rapidly balding valley. For the four of us, the last bit of the trek became personal and private. For me, it was a meditative confrontation of the old dragon of high altitude that had haunted me since childhood.
My breath issued into the perfectly clear night air as steam. I was carrying almost nothing and though the progress was slow, I felt much better than I had imagined possible. Running uphill was obviously out of the question and the strenuousness of a humble pace felt like an aerobic workout, but it was working. An hour and a half later, as the dawn was breaking, we had all arrived. Pragya and I had taken our time, enjoying the subtle shifts in color as we moved up and the sun moved around the globe to meet us.

Small streams covered in crisp pappad-thin ice were the only moving things in the strange Martian rockscape leading to the mountains. The trail was thin but fair and as the sun finally touched the mountains looming thousands of feet high above our heads, the whole scene blazed with pink light. It’s easy to understand why people would call Annapurna a goddess. The elevation itself encourages silence- each spoken word comes at the expense of hard earned breath. The quiet is as pervasive as it is unbroken. For reasons that are part mystical and part circumstantial, the goddess of Annapurna is pure reverence and solitude.

During the course of the trek, we had been taking videos and I joked that I was still looking for ‘the prayer flag shot of my dreams.’ It would take nearly an hour for the sun to touch the valley where we stood but as it did, it illuminated a mass of prayer flags that garnished rocky monuments to dead climbers. The weather was perfect and for the first time I could see the potential attraction that would lead those climbers to try to ascend the snowy, beautiful and treacherous ranges.