JOURNEY - on Mastering Ukemi, page 13
After lunch Bim led the way out with the ladies, Curtis, and Chris close behind. I looked over everything; we would not come this way ever again, and adjusted my poles for the descent. Now the trail was treacherous because it fell away so quickly and the only safe way to traverse it was to lean, place a long pole, step, place the other pole and then step again. Then repeat the process until the trail switched back and you reversed the placement of the steps and poles. After twenty minutes the tops of my thighs were trembling. Big quadriceps need a lot of oxygen and at 8,000 feet there was not as much as I needed. After a week, if we did not sleep much lower and did everything correctly, my body would get used to the oxygen deprivation and hopefully by the time we got to high country, the really high country, I would be able to keep up better. But now my knees hurt, my thighs trembled and I was very aware of not making a mistake. There are no ambulances up here.
Each step became a mantra. Place pole, move feet, observe trail. I did this over and over. Tsuki, tenkan, do it again. Tsuki, fall, get up. Grow tired and keep attacking. Be careful, make no mistakes, take ukemi and get up again. Over and over I repeated this mantra until I came around a switchback and found Christian leaning over and holding his legs with his hands. I could see the shakes as I approached and pointedly ignored him as I passed.
Nawang had been idling behind me as I struggled down the trail and now he stayed with Christian. No one is left behind. You are always somewhere between the two Sherpas. I continued with the regular pace I had set and eventually the trail began to even out and I smelled water, felt cool air, and heard a roaring in the distance I soon was able to identify as a mountain river. It was the Yelong Khola.
After following the trail by the river for another half hour, I saw Chris, Curtis and Bim standing by the trail head where the suspension bridge crosses the Yelung Khola. Celine and Esra were sitting on a bench in the shade nearby. I looked across the river and saw our lodge and I have to say it looked very nice, almost like a Swiss chalet situated between the two rivers and bridges. The late afternoon sun sparkled off the water and the patio was already blessed by shade. I walked up to Bim and said, “Namaste.” I nodded at the group and was rewarded with small, tired smiles.
Bim walked a few feet back up the trail and motioned he wanted me to join him. “What’s up?” I asked.
“Sahib, I am very sorry, but I must tell you that the lodge is full. I have sent Hadim to Sangabanda to see if they can find a place for you. But I know that there has been a death in the family there and I do not know what can be done. I am very sorry.”
“No problem, Bim. Just have the porters stop and have Cook arrange for us to stay in tents. That is why we have them.” I nodded at him and smiled reassuringly.
He turned sideways to me and lowered his head. “Again I am sorry, but I tried to make this happen. There are two large groups already promised this lodge and every space, even the tent spaces, are already committed. We cannot even find a room inside for afternoon tea. I am truly sorry. We must continue on.”
I think years ago, well, even now, some westerners would have had a fit here and caused a scene and that is why for so many years Americans and Europeans were not regarded well in this part of the world. It’s probably the only reason I didn’t throw a fit. I was tired, dead tired and I knew exactly where Sangabanda was situated. Still I smiled at him and said that would be fine and asked him to do his best to find us a place to sleep for the night. He thanked me and walked back down the trail and stood by the guard rail while we waited for Christian to show up with Nawang. I went over and sat next to the ladies and we all sat quietly. We were too tired to banter. Chris suddenly said “Sensei!”
I looked up expecting to see Nawang and Christian, but Chris was looking in the opposite direction. He pointed and said “I think I see a bottle of beer on the patio of that lodge.”
“No one’s eyes are that good,” I said.
He held up a pair of compact Nikon field glasses and smiled. “They are if you use these. And they are drinking beer. I can see it. And very soon we will be.” He nodded emphatically and produced a huge grin. I felt awful.
***
The bridge that crosses the Yelung Khola has been replaced by a wonderful, safe, suspension bridge made of steel cable and heavy aluminum planks. It sways, it jiggles, it bounces, and it is so wonderful compared to the rope and wood contraption that it replaced, I can’t even express it. Although only about four feet wide, it is still sufficient to carry a fully loaded yak train along with handlers and compared to the old one, it felt like highway to me. Solid feeling support rails protect travelers on both sides and I could only imagine that the Nepali Army Corp of Engineers must have built this wonderful bridge. I needed to ask someone and mentally saved that for when I could catch my breath.
With the entire company in close formation we finally crossed the bridge and walked firmly toward the lodge and then kept going out over the second bridge at the Khimti Khola. Chris had stopped and wondered aloud what we were doing, but I had motioned that we were not done yet for the day and to kindly follow Bim. He had not been pleased by this, but he had fallen in line behind Christian who had again taken lead behind Bim. Celine was arguing with Esra and I didn’t need to know Turkish to know what was being said. I felt sorry for everyone and mostly for myself, but there was little for it. We needed to push on. This is true ukemi. When you really don’t want to attack anymore and have been thrown enough times that your body hurts all over, you still get up and attack again. Because this is real life. In real life you can’t just hold up your hand and say, I need a do-over. I need a rest. Sometimes in real life you just have to keep going.
So we got to the end of the river trail and I saw the clay and rock path turn and climb damn near straight up the north-facing wall and knew that this was as tough as it would get. At least for a while.
”Sensei, where’s our lodge? I thought we were staying on the river.”
“Well, Chris, you have to stay flexible here. The lodge couldn’t take us and we’re just going to go up the trail a little ways and spend the night at another lodge. Okay?” I smiled at him and slapped him on the shoulder and turned up the trail.
The smart way to do this climb is in the morning, the way I’d planned it. It’s a north wall which means that the sun hits it hard in the late afternoon. It is extremely steep. It is dusty. It’s hot as hell. Remember that Nepal is the same latitude as Florida and it is only altitude that makes it less steamy. We were in a deep valley and only in the foothills. And although the altitude was going to climb from 5,900 feet to around 7,500, we were going to make that climb in around two hours and that is still not high enough to mitigate the steam rising from the valley walls.
It was brutal for me. Besides Esra, I have little doubt that except for the shock factor I suffered the worst. I was the oldest, heaviest and have two bad knees. Christian was hot and sweating, but not breathing heavy. Chris and Curtis and Celine toughed it out like troupers, but Esra started fast and before long she was even walking behind me and was having a very hard time. It was so steep that I had to take a deep breath, take a step and rest; and then do it again. After an hour I was taking a step and then two deep breathes and rest. My knees started to scream at me about halfway and I knew I could not afford to rest, because if I did they would stiffen and I might not be able to get them going again. The sun beat down. Sweat poured out of me and I knew that I had to keep drinking my dwindling water supply because the altitude leaches liquid as surely as sweating. Soon it was gone and I had to rely on the knowledge that we would be there eventually. After three miserable hours we were.
I looked around. It was nothing like the lodge below. In fact, if it were not for the small merchant stall selling coke and the ever-present Snickers and beer, I would have called it a family farm perched on a very steep mountainside. Still there was a place to sit and a place to buy beer, and later when Bim had finished his negotiations with the family, a place to roll out my sleeping bag. It was in the yak stall, on two bales of hay, but at least they had tethered the yaks a way down the mountain for the night. The three young guys had the other side of the manger and the ladies had somewhat better quarters in a storage shed across the trail. It was not what any of them had imagined or foreseen for themselves when we left Kathmandu, but I knew it would probably be the worst lodging we would see.
A death in the family meant that every available inch of space in the main lodge held mourning family members and I cautioned everyone not to get too boisterous when the beer hit the bloodstream. We were fortunate that the family allowed us to stay at all and I mentioned to Bim to make a small gesture of thanks when he settled the bill and he nodded emphatically and thanked me. I fell asleep encouraged and the others fell asleep a bit shocked and uncertain. All in all it had been a tough day. Still, I was pleased, although I missed not being able to take a hot shower. But I knew that I would miss that before I ever stepped onto the trail.
Chapter 13
The Long Road
Bim woke me as usual with a bowl of hot water and a cup of tea. I bathed as well as I could and dug out my clean clothing. I hurt in every conceivable part of my body and was actually a little in shock at my discomfort level. Still I managed to get my gear stowed in my duffle and have it placed outside the stable wall before anyone else had managed to find daylight.
I like coffee and had stipulated that we would have coffee in lieu of tea on the trip and Mr. Pasang had been most compliant. That I could not get Bim or whoever to bring anything but tea at first light was acceptable as long as I had coffee when I sat down to breakfast. Bim was waiting at the table in the courtyard and he had a pot of coffee ready for me.
When Curtis showed up I asked him what had happened to Esra, last night.
“Don’t know, just that she was not feeling well.”
“Who was?” I asked.
“Well, I know she seems to be a little more pampered than Celine, but that doesn’t mean she wasn’t genuinely sick.”
“Sorry if it seems like I was implying she wasn’t,” I said. I drank my coffee and thought about the situation. “We’ll see. Daylight has a way of making things better.”
He nodded and we waited while everyone else showed up for breakfast and the first full day on the trail. Yesterday was just a warm-up.
“Good morning, Sensei!” Celine danced up to the table and swirled around in a lovely pirouette. How she did it in hiking boots, I’ll never know, but I do train my students that a pirouette is one of the fundamental movements in aikido. I’ve just never seen it done like that. She was wearing a pretty sweater and a full loose skirt and it occurred to me she would be a lot more comfortable in that skirt than in her khakis from yesterday. I wished I had my hakama. Well, not really.
“Celine, you look wonderful. I think the skirt is a fine idea. How do you feel?”
“I feel wonderful! I love this place! It is so beautiful!”
And in truth I had been so immersed in how bad I had been feeling, my knees, and my tired old bones, that I had forgotten to smell the roses we passed. She was right. It was beautiful. We walked down the trail to where the family lodge ended at a sharp turn in the trail and were able to look out at the morning sun breaking over the terraced mountainside. The green cabbages and the golden marigolds literally vibrated with pulsing color and in a moment I felt uplifted. I turned around and walked back toward the breakfast table and when I passed her I softly said, “thank you,” then went back to find Cook and Bim waiting to serve us breakfast.
Esra was sitting with Christian and Chris and I asked her how she was feeling. She spoke at length and turned to Chris and Curtis and continued to speak with ever-expanding gestures and more and more animation. Bim looked startled and I caught Cook sidling away, disappearing toward wherever they had prepared our breakfast, giving me a sly grin and helpless gesture. I looked back at Esra and smiled and nodded and finally she jumped up and gave me a huge hug and disappeared back toward the supply shed. I had no idea what had been said. I turned toward the others and opened my hands in my best inquisitorial gesture. They returned it and then we all laughed. She was clearly speaking English in her mind and with her best intentions, but it was simply gibberish. She was very pretty, though.
“I remember old Ed Baker, Sensei,” I said. “He used to say that he had been around women all his life, and could understand why men and women can’t communicate. He said he was forever telling them not to say anything to him… but that he couldn’t make them understand that he didn’t care what they thought about what he ate, what he wore, and what he drank, but they were always talking anyway. He said he understood that perfectly. But then he said he couldn’t understand why they just didn’t…”
“Sensei! Did you tell my sister we are staying here today?”
I turned and looked at Celine, startled, and shook my head no.
She smiled and turned around and walked off. I turned back to the group and tried to remember what it was that Baker Sensei used to say and couldn’t. It was probably just as well. He had been a submarine sailor. Of course, I had been a sailor myself. It was probably why we liked each other.
“Sahib? Will you be eating the breakfast?”
“Yes, Bim. Please tell Cook we will be eating the breakfast now. Anyone not present can walk hungry.
Eventually Celine and Esra came to the table and Esra was clearly not as happy as she had been when she left, but the porters were at least on their way with our gear and today it was Nawang who got to leave the expedition and go ahead to arrange for lunch and lodging. I hoped he would be more successful than Hadim had been. We had muesli, a European granola, and a nice one egg omelet each, with a few bits of herb and cheese. When we finished and stood up I was still starving. It was time to go.
***
Celine fairly danced her way down the trail while we crested the ridge and slowly wound our way through the pass. After the day before we found the going easy during the morning and after a short consultation with Bim we decided to press on through lunch and stop early in Bhandar. We crossed the 9,000 foot pass and stopped to admire a large group of mani walls. There were a few pilgrims praying at the walls so we silently took a few pictures and moved on.
The trail leads down into one of the most beautiful valleys in the low Himalaya and bottoms at about 7,200 feet. After the previous night we felt like we were swimming in air and found Nawang waiting for us with our porters in a very nice lodge in the center of the community. He led us up the stairs and down a wide hall and showed me into a nice single room with a window. I did not ask how the others would be billeted. If they had a problem they would let me know. I sat on the hard bunk and after a few moments my duffle showed up. I unpacked enough to pull out my sleeping bag and mat and spread them across the thin camp mattress on the hard plank that served as a bed. It felt like the finest presidential suite in the best hotel in Paris compared to the previous night. I took off my boots and socks and lay down and fell immediately asleep.
When I awoke I knew it was much later. The light was different and I could hear laughter and a grating, scraping sound and then an occasional grunt and laugh. I lay quietly feeling my body and finally figured it wasn’t going to get any better so I sat up and dug around in my duffle for my camp shoes; light sandals with no arch support and just enough underfoot to keep the sharp stones from hurting. Downstairs I saw Cook preparing to serve tea and went out to see where the others were.
I found them in the rear of the lodge in the square used for hanging laundry and other domestic chores. The square was empty and I realized immediately they were training. Christian was launching a shomenuchi at Curtis and Curtis was reversing and letting the downward slash sail past then pushing Christian in the back. They repeated the process three times then Chris stepped up and attacked Curtis. Eventually Celine took her turn and then Christian stepped into the middle. I walked over to the table and benches on the side of the building in the shade and sat down next to Esra to watch. Cook sent one of the kitchen helpers with a tray of cookies and tea and I told him to put it on the table. He did and then left. I offered a cup to Esra and she accepted it and then we both turned to watch.
“Sensei, Ari yohu go eeng tu pla yee?” she said.
I looked at her and smiled again and offered more tea. I didn’t have a clue what the hell she was talking about. I turned back to see Celine deliver a vicious blow to Chris and wondered what that was all about. I knew he had been flirting with her so it could be some form of courtship, aikido style, but it’s been a long time since I have courted anyone with aikido so…
“Sensei, Celine doe ees not be long e to an yee on ee and sss he ees…”
I ignored her and kept watching and she kept talking. After a few minutes I couldn’t help myself.
“Curtis! Keep your center planted when you tenkan. You’re bouncing up and down like a 14 year old kid!”
He grinned over at me and nodded and then went back to training. Sometimes I just have to get involved even when I pointedly am not. They continued to train and Esra continued to blather away when suddenly I turned and said, “no”. I was answering a question. I had heard a question and had answered it automatically without thinking. She had asked if I was unhappy that they had come.
“Are e yo hu un hapee wit hu me?”
