Day 3: Pikey Peak Base Camp to Junbesi
Pikey Peak, Nepal
Ascent: 788 m
descent: 1748 m
Distance: 15.3 km
Elevation at Destination: 2680 m
After dinner last night we were joined by roughly a dozen Nepali hikers, who immediately took over the dining room and commenced a party that lasted for hours. The noise travelled straight into our room, preventing us from sleeping for most of the night.
The 4.30 a.m. alarm was not our friend, and neither were the freezing temperatures we faced outside. Most of the Nepalis had left before us, their head torches forming a trail up Pikey Peak. This ended up being to our advantage, as the route wasn’t clear at times so we just walked in the general direction of the torches above us. It wasn’t long before we hit a set of well-formed stairs that would take us most of the way to the top. Clearly our pace was incredibly slow, as we were overtaken multiple times by late-starting Nepalis.
In a little under an hour we reached the summit, at 4065 m, just as the sun was starting to rise above the mountains. Roughly 60 people were already there, of which only four of them were tourists. We couldn't believe that this little-known peak was so busy, until we found out later that Saturday (today) was the one day off that Nepalis get each week. I guess they were making the most of it. (A few days later we ran into an Italian woman who ascended midweek. There were no Nepalis, and only a handful of foreigners. It sounded much more appealing than what was in front of us.)
The sight was incredible. There were peaks almost all the way around us, but those of the Everest range were by far the closest. We had no idea which mountains we were looking at, so I asked a guide to help us out. He started listing the name of every mountain we could see; the only ones I remembered were Everest, Lhotse and the Annapurna range way off in the distance. It was strange to see planes and helicopters flying well below us, going to and from Kathmandu. The sun wasn't in the perfect position to light up the peaks, but I imagine that the afternoon view, if clear, would be spectacular.
Because we were taking so many photos, it didn't take long for our hands to go numb, even inside our gloves. The wind chill was strong and went straight to the bones, forcing us to perform lap after lap around the summit. A few locals started playing music and dancing around, which seemed like a good way to stay warm. I wasn’t about to join them though.
Over an hour later, after enduring as much cold as we could handle, we began the descent. We were the only people to bring our packs with us - the other tourists were returning to their guesthouse for breakfast before walking around the mountain to continue on. That would have been a more sensible idea.
There were several paths leading off the mountain and we quickly noticed that no one was descending the same way as us. It turned out there was a good reason for this. The path commenced on an exposed, narrow trail running around the the edge of a mountain, which felt slightly dangerous given the precipitous drop-off on one side. That was the easy part. Next, we headed straight down on rocks so wobbly that I was sure I would be tossed straight over the edge. The unstable rocks turned into giant boulders, and often the only way to get from one to the other was to jump. By this stage we were in the middle of a forest, with no clue how far it was to the next village, Jase Bhangyang. It felt like it lasted an eternity (in reality it was only 90 minutes). My legs were skaking on the final stretch, and I wished with all my heart that I didn't have a pack on my back.
At Jase Bhangyang I threw off the bag, removed a dozen layers and sat like a zombie eating breakfast. It felt like we had done a whole day's hike and it was only 8.30 a.m.
On any other day, the hill out of Jase Bhangyang would have been noteworthy, but today it was barely a blip. The warmth of the sun was a sharp contrast to the freezing temperatures we experienced earlier. At the top, a sign at a turnoff pointed towards our destination. This would take us along a shortcut we had heard about, but it wasn't on our map so we were hesitant about following it. As it was going to be a long day for us, we wanted to save every minute we could. For the next couple of hours, we were walking blind.
The path began by edging around the top of the hill to a viewpoint before heading straight down. At first we descended on sandy soil (easy), which turned into slippery mud (awful), with the occasional set of uneven stairs thrown in (not so bad), most of it through a pine forest (lovely). When we eventually reached the bottom, we crossed a few small creeks before emerging into a vast, boggy field bordered by a wall of looming mountains. Someone had thoughtfully placed planks of wood across the muddy parts to save us from sinking ankle deep into the muck.
The main path wasn't always obvious, but there were only a few times we needed to backtrack until we found the correct route. Then all of a sudden we popped out of the trees to find ourselves on a wide dirt road, which formed part of the main Jiri-Lukla trail. We breathed a huge sigh of relief to be back on the map again, and in a region with directional signs and other hikers (we hadn't passed anyone except a couple of locals since turning onto the shortcut).
Although navigation was less of a problem now, the surface was made up of sharp, jagged rocks that were torture for the soles of our feet. We ignored the pain and pushed on, keen to reach the village of Taktor for a well-deserved lunch break.
Taktor had no restaurants. It had been five hours since breakfast, we were starving, exhausted, and it was still another hour to our destination, Junbesi. I think we both almost cried at this moment. Dejectedly, we pushed on, twice making a wrong turn that added an extra kilometre to our journey. Luckily someone was nearby to guide us in the right direction.
The road led us through a beautiful, wide valley dotted with small houses on either side, but the snowy mountain backdrop had disappeared. Once we found the correct turnoff, a narrow, rocky path lined by stone walls led us to Junbesi, hidden in a corner at the bottom of the valley.
Junbesi was by far the largest town we had come across, with numerous guesthouses and small stores to stock up on supplies. We chose a guesthouse with a hot shower, which happened to have free Wi-Fi. Although we were ecstatic to find both of these, our first priority was lunch. It was the best plate of noodles I have ever eaten in my life. I couldn't say the same about the shower, but it did the job. Despite being keen to explore the town, our exhaustion prevented us from leaving the guesthouse for the rest of the day.
