to the hills.

so after spending a couple weeks in the desert, smog and craziness of life on the plains we decided to head out for a different kind of craziness. it was a 7 hour jeep ride into the himalayas until the road was washed out, so our trek began a little earlier than expected. we were hoping to get as far up the Harkidun valley as we could, it's supposed to be a beautiful place in summer and full of hikers, but this is january, it's cold and usually snowy, so we would need some help from mother nature to be able to make it there.



we made it to the village of sankri and found a guide whom a fellow woodstocker had used before, he instantly took us in and soon enough his daughters were singing for us and we felt right at home


some donkeys making their way across a sketchey landslide, it's only around a 150 ft to the river below.


it was about a 6 hour trek to the village of gangar, around 50 timber framed houses tucked into the hillside by the river. we spent the night with our guides relatives.


some of the girls from where we stayed. all of the people here wore long woolen jackets, and usually with sashes as well.


the houses up here had some amazing carvings. besides that they're pretty basic being there are usually only 2 rooms, and that up to 10 people will sleep together on the floor, and the animals are on the bottom floor so some of their heat creaps up through the floorboards... greg was kept up one night by the cow bell ringing just below him.


mother nature dashed our hopes of reaching harkidun by greeting us with a good dose of fresh snow through the night



this spot was a little hairy, after we crossed our guide mentioned to us that a couple hikers had had a fatal fall here to the river earlier this year.




yes, we are funny... that was after we had to run across a section of the trail that had slid from the snow and rain...


we made it back to sankri, but everything we had was soaked... so i borrowed some clothes from our guide... stylin i know.


so with the nasty weather we had, and the lack of dry clothes we decided to head home a day early. to make a long story somewhat shorter, we had a dilema, our jeep driver told us we could phone him anytime to have him pick us up early, but we couldn't get ahold of him... but we had already made the 12 km hike and crammed jeep ride to the nearest phone and we didn't want to go back. so we decided to just try to get to mussoorie anyway we could. so we found another jeep going to the next town and there found a bus heading for mussoorie. we threw our packs on the top and found seats in the very back, happy we had seats, but unhappy we hadn't found our driver and were going to have to pay more. so as we started to pull out we looked out and saw OUR DRIVER! our eyes met, him confused as to why his 3 tourists are in a bus, a day early... us amazed it's him, this being only one of many towns along the way, one in a thousand shops, and just a passing moment....

it's amazing how you spend so much time and effort trying to not look too out of place, too foreign. but here we were, our bus pulling out, our driver staring at us... for these buses to have foreigners is quite something, but to have these foreigners yelling and screaming was enough entertainment and confusion for a year!

now the bus finally stopped, but the aisle was jammed with locals and there was no way out, and we weren't sure how long it'd stay stopped. so we jumped out the window! i think chris suggested it at first, half as a joke, but out we went... oh they were confused, us crawling up to get our packs, laughing at it all.

it was a good end to a good trip.