JOURNEY - on Mastering Ukemi by Daniel Linden (classic books for 12 year olds .TXT) 📕

stone shelter feel like it was, well, exactly what it was. Cold, damp, uncomfortable, and ugly. There were people coming and going and a few standing under the veranda roof. We went into the public room in the larger of the two and Chris walked over to a bench in the corner and sat down. I turned to Bim and asked him to please see if we could get some hot chocolate and a piece of pie or a pastry or anything sweet or cakelike and he nodded. I took off my coat and had to admit that the warmth felt pretty good.

There were maybe a dozen people in the lodge and I recognized several of the women who had been in the American group we had seen at the entrance to the national park. They had made it and gotten our rooms, apparently. Well, I guessed that was probably better than them trying to stay in our shelter. They seemed listless and unhappy and we all understood.

“You know guys, this might not be the best bet. I talked to a German who told me about a village on the other side of this mountain that’s a little lower, he says 3,500 meters, although I think he must be wrong about that. Anyway he says it’s more like a town than anything. Like a trading center… a miniature Namche Bazaar. They would probably have rooms for us and if all we can see is our hands in front of our faces, well, maybe we ought to go over there. It’s really close to the Tibetan border, so it might have some interesting things to see. All I know is that three nights in that little stone shelter sounds like a really hard way to go.”

I had barely finished when Chris agreed.

“Yeah, he said. “If it means going down from here and finding someplace warm and dry we can stay I’m all for it. I don’t care about summiting some damn mountain. I just wanted to see the Himalayas and all I’ve seen so far is fog and rocks. Let’s go!”

Curtis, calm and quiet as usual just shrugged his consent. I looked at Christian and he smiled his big, typical smile and laughed. “Hey, it’s been a load of laughs, so far. I’m in.” I really loved this kid. What a great traveling companion.

“Okay, we stay here tonight and tomorrow we go over to this town, Khundjole, and spend a couple days there and if the weather still hasn’t broken, we’ll head back to Namche. Okay?”

They all nodded and then we waited for Bim to return with whatever he’d found. He eventually came back with a very nice surprise; there was hot chocolate and an apple pie; we ate like starving children. After we finished I explained the change in travel plans to Bim.

He did not look happy. In fact he didn’t like it at all. He told me that we would have to go further up the mountain and then around and back down and that he had never been there, but had heard things were not good there.

“What do you mean, not good?”

“There are Chinese, sometimes.”

“You mean Tibetans, no?”

“No, Sahib. Chinese.”

“Do they bother anyone? I mean, we’re Americans.”

He shrugged. I turned to the guys and raised an eyebrow. Chris had seemed happier while drinking and eating, but had that surly look back.

“I don’t care,” Chris said. “I want to go. I just really don’t want to stay here.”

I turned back to Bim and he nodded his head. “Yes, Sahib.”

***

We headed out the next morning after another long, cold, sleepless night. A warmer wind was blowing softly up the valley and I knew I would be uncomfortable with my heavy down coat so I transferred it to my duffle and got out a sweater and down vest that I could just carry if I got too warm with the climbing. The others saw me and did the same. I hoped the slight change in the weather might signal a change and a clearing and I asked Bim. He looked up at the sky and held still for a minute and said, “Maybe.”

We walked quietly past the lodges and followed the path up the mountain. Most of the trekkers who would be summiting that day were already gone, but there were a few people around who were clearly less than amused by the low-hanging clouds and drizzle. I nodded to one man I vaguely recognized and he looked stonily through me as I passed.

We hiked doggedly for a couple hours and must have been near the summit when we took a branching trail that turned north. Eventually we started back down and after another hour we came to a stone shelter similar to the one we’d spent our last night in. We must have been near 17,000 feet and I was breathing with great difficulty.

Cook was crouching outside the hut and warming what looked like dhal bat. He must have prepared it the night before. That was fine with me. I’d take all the carbs I could get and the lentils and rice would provide some lasting energy. We rested and then ate lunch. We had already traveled farther than I had anticipated. And we had the descent to do this afternoon. After eating I did not feel like waiting, so I told Bim to get us moving and let Cook and his helper catch up. I knew they would pass us on the trail and be there an hour ahead of us anyway.

The trail down was mostly switchbacks. At least it was a good trail, clearly marked and steady. After several hours I heard the sound of water running. Not the big sound of the Dudh Kosi, but more confined, like a mountain stream running over stones. We came around one last switchback and then we were there. A stream that was clearly flowing off the glacier, that was