We were sitting in the dining tent after dinner. We
huddled in the cold, each breath visible as we exhaled. The dim light
came from a lantern; hours earlier the mist had swallowed up the mountains,
and darkness had enveloped us. Our soft-spoken Sherpa guide, Sona
Hishe, was describing the last recorded attack by a yeti, or abominable
snowman, back in 1963...
'Startled, the woman spun around, and was terrified at what she saw.
As she turned away, trying to protect herself, the yeti knocked her
into the icy stream. When she awoke in the cold water, the yeti was
attacking her yaks. It picked up one baby and threw it to the ground,
killing it instantly. Another one it ripped in two pieces. The young
woman was paralyzed with fear, and didnít move. She didn't know what
the yeti was doing with the third yak, itís powerful arms around the
yak's neck, until she realized the yeti was draining the large animal
of its blood. The fourth yak was skinned alive as she watched, horrified.
The fifth yak's limbs were ripped off. The woman was certain she would
be next, but the yeti disappeared into the forest.'
Just as Sona finished telling us this chilling
tale, the lid on the teapot slammed shut, making us all jump. Sona
himself recalled hearing the wail of the yeti years ago as a teenager,
and how 'very scared' he had been. We all retired to our tents that
night wide awake, ears tuned to every sound, listening for the wail
of the yeti.
 We
never heard one, but the next day in the village of Khumjung, we visited
the gompa, or monastery, where we saw the scalp of a yeti in a locked
glass case. I was skeptical of the scalp, as were my fiancé,
Deb, and the other three westerners on our trek. At the same time,
I was enchanted with this land, where mysticism and legend are such
a part of daily life.
At this point we were five days into our 19
day trek, and we seemed a world away from the hustle, noise, and smog
of Kathmandu, our gateway to the Khumbu region of Nepal. While we
enjoyed our brief visit to Kathmandu, strolling around the old Durbar,
or Palace Square, exploring temples dating back to the 1600's, it
was the great Himalaya mountains we came to see, the 'Abode of Snows.'
The Himalayas were born 40 million years ago, when India slammed into
Asia. The uplift of these mountains continues today, at a rate of
10 centimeters a year. For a country the size of Iowa, Nepal has the
highest altitude range of any place on earth. Its lowland Terai region
sits just 300 feet above sea level. A short distance away, Nepal has
eight of the highest mountains in the world, capped off by the incredible
Mount Everest, at 29,028 feet. While the views so far had been even
more spectacular than I imagined, I knew I would be disappointed if
views of the world's tallest peak eluded us. |
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