“That cow has a decent medial suspensory ligament.” That’s what Lulu told me the other day as we walked past the dairy barn. If that weren’t confirmation enough that my education dollars are well spent, she just sent me this photo that she took during class today.
Speaking of farm animals, I decided against doing the big long river trip in Nepal. I am a big chicken. The thing is, I didn’t know enough about the company to want to entrust my life to them during that three-day segment of the trip when an overturned raft could be fatal. Call me old-fashioned.
Actually, I have a bigger reason for changing my plans: the cost of the longer trip and taking an extra week off of work aren’t financially feasible
Instead, I’ll do a shorter river trip, probably the Kali Gandaki, which is the one I’d planned to do a year ago. It’ll be plenty hair-raising but a little closer to civilization so they won’t have to carry my corpse as far. And what if my traveling companions are buttheads? In that eventuality, three days in the wilderness would be a lot less painful than ten. (I know this for a fact. On the Magpie expedition there were some great people — even Richard Dean “MacGyver” Anderson was quite funny — but all it took were two vicious people to contaminate the experience.)
So I bought my plane tickets today. I should be excited but all I am is scared about money.
Here’s a video I found on YouTube of the Kali Gandaki:
“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.”
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.’”
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:
