Escape from Kathmandu - the LangTang Trek

Gasping for breath in the thin, cold air, I look up at the trail.  A series of jumbled rocks forming an impossibly steep, uneven stairway that twists and turns towards an unseen summit.  There has to be a summit.  Somewhere.  I mean come on.  We’ve been climbing for 5 hours.

 

“One foot in front of the other” I keep saying to myself.  “One step at a time.”

 


 

Our guide, Norbu Lama (known to his Canadian friends as Vishwa – wisdom of the universe) of Peak Endeavours Nepal had recommended a trek in the Langtang Valley north of Kathmandu on the Tibetan border.  It  is far less crowded than the more popular Everest and Anapurna treks, is considered relatively easy, and would get us onto the mountain trails quickly.

 It also has a strong cultural component.   The valley is home to the Tamang people who share language and lifestyle with the people of Tibet. 

 But as an office-bound, middle-aged Canadian with wonky knees I knew that it would be a challenge.  

 

The Road to Dunche

 

The first leg of the trip is a frightening, 8-hour, 120 km drive from Kathmandu to the village of Dunche. 

Yes, 8 hours.  The single lane ‘highway’ threads its way along steep-sided gorges, through grimy rag-tag villages and past cascading terraced fields so precise they appear to have been combed. 


 

 

Nearer to Dunche, the road rises steeply in tear-shaped hairpins sliced into near vertical cliffs high above a braided turquoise river. 

 

 

Where landslides have destroyed the roadbed, a bulldozer merely pushed aside some boulders to create a precarious passage that appears ready to collapse again under the weight of our vehicle. 



 

 

Despite a competent driver, solid Toyota “jeep” and relatively steely nerves, I still have to close my eyes, particular when we meet an overloaded bus and have to back up around a blind curve.

 

 

 

 

Lower Langtang

 The first day of hiking takes us on a steady climb out of Dunche to the ridge straddling town of Thulo Syabru where we visit a vividly painted temple and watch a vivid sunset paint the snow peaks of Ganesh Himal a vivid pink.

 

The second day is the most gruelling of the trip – hiking down 500 meters of elevation and then back up 700 meters over the course of 6 hours.  We feel for our big-hearted porter Tej who trudges along with both of our overloaded duffle bags on his back.

As gruelling as it seems, the scenery is spectacular – a mature, open, moss-draped pine and rhododendron forest spills down a narrow gorge of tumbled black stones towards a roaring white turquoise river – more beautiful than any movie set designer could conjure. 











Through the strong verticals of the forest, tantalizing glimpse of pristine snow capped peaks.   Langtan Lirung - at over 24,000 feet above sea level, isn't even one of Nepal's 10 highest peaks.

 

 

Our reward is the Ganesh View tea house at Remche – a dining hall and a row of tiny plank cells perched precariously on the side of the valley with a spectacular view of the ridges fading in shades of blue into the sunset.  (And solar-heated shower!)

Beyond Remche, it’s a somewhat easier climb past the unattractive jumble of competing tea houses at Lama Hotel and climbing out of the gorge at Gorha Tabela into the broad, U-shaped Upper Langtang valley.

Upper Langtang

The landscape changes significantly once the valley broadens out.  The trail emerges from the forest into an open, alpine landscape resplendent in the autumn golden browns, reds and oranges of late November.  The sense of open space is uplifting; the light is clear and white. 

All around us, the pristine shards of mountains whose names I can’t pronounce gaze at us over the black shoulders of lower ridges.  Occasionally, the thorn shrubs beside the path rustle – a yak reaches with its tongue to grasp the last green leaves.  Villagers bustle past with a pleasant ‘Namaste’, carrying heavy burdens of firewood, food supplies or office furniture. 

At this point, we’ve reached 3,000 meters (10,000 ft) above sea level and are warned of the dangers of altitude sickness – avoid overexertion, stay hydrated, don’t climb more than 300 meters in a day.

 

We spend a night in the bustling Langtang village in hut built of loosely fitted grey stones. By the time dark shadows of evening reach the snow peaks, the temperature slips below zero and there’s little to do but crawl into our down sleeping bags and sleep for 10 hours.


 

 

The final push brings us to the ‘top village’ of Kyanjin Gumba, at 12,700 feet above sea level (and thin air estimated to be ¼ atmospheric pressure).  It’s a cluster of tea houses and lodges that lives off of yaks, cheese and trekkers.   

We use this as a base of operations for the next 3 days, with day hikes up to the foot of the Langtang Lirung glacier, an expedition to the peak of Kyanjin Ri (15,750 ft) and a flat hike across an impressive alluvial delta (right) and up the valley to the lookout at Jatang. 

 

Our hosts are a happy young family – their two-year-old toddler making friends with all who happen by.  The accommodations are basic – we have to break the ice on the water barrel beside the squat toilet every morning to ‘flush’ and wash up.  The food is identical at every stop – local Dahl Bhat (lentils, rice and curried potatoes), pizza (cheese and ketchup on Tibetan break) or Chow Mein (noodles fried with vegetables). 


 

 

But it all adds up to a huge reward for having put one foot in front of the other for endless hours, trudging up steep slippery slopes with your eyes glued to the trail ahead. 

 

The penalty … now you have to trudge back down.

 

-30-