The Wormlips Scrapbook

I got this e-mail from MoveOn:

“CNN is now reporting that up to 100,000 people have died from the cyclone that hit Burma. The scale of this disaster is hard to even imagine, and relief is urgently needed. So we wanted to pass along this email from our friends at Avaaz.org (the global online progressive group) letting you know how you can help.”

Trusting that MoveOn knows from a worthy organization, I donated through the Avaaz site: https://secure.avaaz.org/en/burma_cyclone/77.php

Speaking of south Asia, I’m a day away from making my plane reservations. I’ve finally chosen the whitewater trip I want to do and have booked space on it. Actually, I would’ve preferred to run a different river because this one is more dangerous than I’d like, but I couldn’t get other dates to fit my schedule.

Here’s some of what the out-of-print book White Water Nepal says about the trip:

“…Wild and unpopulated with some of the most pristine jungle scenery in Nepal and abundant wildlife… The valley narrows into a series of canyons, the river speeds up, and there are big rapids, one leading into another, almost continuously… This is a trip for expert rafters, and considering the wilderness nature of the terrain, it should not be underestimated.

“The Karnali isn’t a trip for softies: the two-day trek to the start is not hard but neither is it a Sunday afternoon walk… class 4 big white water rapids will work you hard… Dave Allardice says, ‘This is a remote region. A swim in the middle canyon could have serious consequences, as one huge powerful rapid leads straight into the next.’”

Why do I do these things? Don’t tell Mom.

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Cheryl & I just Skyped. It appears we’ve had a miscommunication — a friendly one. She’s had a long-term plan to trek with another friend this spring.

• I could swear I remember her saying that, because of this, spring is not an option for my visit.
• She thought she’d told me that she can shuffle plans with her other friend to free up time for a spring trek.

I felt a jolt of hope when I realized I might see Nepal after all, depending on a million variables. Then I got confused. Having painfully but finally cut loose that idea, I’d begun investigating other destinations. Now I no longer know what to do. I really want to visit Cheryl in Nepal. I also really need to get away before spring, and South and Central America have been calling. Can I do both? I guess it’s a good kind of quandary to be in. And as Lulu philosophized when she was three, “Oh well. Life is life.”

Notes to self: Ideal trekking time = last three weeks of April; contact Thakur about good rafting at that time of year (Cheryl sez the Marsyangdi is beautiful; I still want to go to the Kali Gandaki, or if I had ten days to spare I thought I’d want to see the Sunkoshi — despite the following excerpt:

Speaking of Lulu, I’ve just been instant-messaging her. (If Internet technology didn’t exist, I wonder what I’d be doing tonight.) I’ve told her about this latest unfurling and asked for her advice:

“Play it by ear. Don’t stop looking at other options, but continue to hold Nepal as one too.”

She’s as wise now as at three. With exceptions. Like deciding to ride her bike in flip-flops today:

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Despite the subtitle of the Wormlips Blog, I really don’t think it’s all about me. Well, at least not all the time.

One way it’s not all about me is that Cheryl has been suffering for the past two weeks from a particularly brutal South Asian disease of uncertain diagnosis. I get to see her when we video-chat on Skype. She looks pretty even when she’s sick, but she does look very sick at the moment. She’s also being characteristically stoical. I hate being too far away to help.

With her genuine problems as a backdrop, it seems even more absurd than usual to go on about my minor physical issues. And if they didn’t have a choke-hold on my plans for Nepal, I wouldn’t mention them.

Well, at last this foot part is over. In today’s final test, I hiked in a pretty, cool, damp part of Tilden Park.

I must’ve gone five-plus miles, and climbed around 1200 feet. Marked in green is where I thought I was going, and in red is where I went. Like the vanishing hitchhiker I kept overtaking the same groups of people.

.

The 360-degree view from the top of 1250-foot Wildcat Peak includes the East Bay’s greatest hits: the SF and San Pablo Bays and their bridges and islands; Mount Diablo; a lot of cities (SF, Berkeley, Oakland, Albany, Richmond…); and some regional parks and reservoirs.

This is what I can no longer deny: While not unbearable, the steady complaining of my heel — along with the inherent challenges of the Himalaya — is likely to turn my three-week trek into an experience only a Buddhist monk has the wisdom to appreciate.

I just wrote to Cheryl:

The confusion about my visit has been probably driving you as crazy as it has me. I sincerely apologize. I’ve never had trip plans turn upside-down like this, and I’m not handling it gracefully.

The thing is, I haven’t been able to let go of the trip because it’s been my dream and beacon all these months. But in rational moments I remember that this is the hugest physical challenge I’ve attempted, and it would be foolhardy to do it in a weakened condition … particularly when I’m no athlete to begin with.

Not only do I feel sorry for myself at having to sacrifice this once-in-a-lifetime adventure with you, but I feel like [censored] for [censored] your plans. My consolation is knowing that (health permitting) you still plan to trek to Everest Base Camp anyway.

So I guess this means that I will cancel my plane tickets tomorrow. [Censored.] [Censored.] Love, Ginna

Does anyone want to borrow books about Nepal, the Himalaya and South Asia? I can recommend movies, too.

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