Mother SUCKERS!

(Miller)

Well, this post is a bit passé but better late than never; besides, Annie and I need to share this story, however shameful it may be.

The Peace Pagoda is a well-known hike in Pokarha. It’s usually for people just warming up to go trekking and I’m pretty sure meant to be a self-esteem booster as it’s like the bunny hill at a ski resort. Our hostel is on the north side, with a clear view of Phewa Tal (the lake) and the Peace Pagoda is situated right on top of a hill just across the water; making for an even more picturesque sunrise shot. It’s a Buddhist temple about 1 hour from the base, and a highly visited destination by Buddhists and trekkers alike.

We’d made friends with a mama at a restaurant called the Yeti (Annie’s pick, shocking) Her sons, who speak incredible English, run boats across the lake for people who want to mix up the walk to the top. Decided on a sunrise boat ride, which took about 45 minutes and was a chilly if not beautiful wake-up, waved hello to all the fishermen and fellow boaters and bid our captain adieu as we found the trailhead with ease, confidence already bolstered.

We made it up right on time, an hour almost exactly on the dot of time estimated in our bible, Lonely Planet, so we were feeling pretty good. Winded, but happy. Took a zillion photos of our first real glimpse of the Annapurna range. We had plans to begin the 10-day trek to Annapurna Base Camp the next day so it was a taste of things to come and we were pumped! The sky was clear, as the clouds hadn’t risen yet and we were only 2 of 6 people viewing that magnificent creation; life was good.

Sat down to eat the cookies and apples we’d squirreled away as the other slow-pokes arrived, chuckled as they sucked wind and then again as they turned and really saw the looming mountains for the first time, just as we had. Far superior trekkers we were, timed it perfectly and had plenty of time to bask in the morning sun that was just starting to warm up the mountain.

“Let’s take the long way down so we can enjoy the morning,” I said. If we’d been in a B- horror movie, the dun-dun-DUN organ music would have played, foreshadowing mishap to come.

And come it did. About 15 minutes from the top, we took some photos and even a video of how happy we were with life. Yes, I’m jigging in the woods. Anyways, 10 minutes after that, we suddenly found ourselves off the beaten path and standing on a terraced hillside, up to our ears in ferns and spider webs. “What the hell?” was all we could say; at this point more confused than anything else. I’d bought new boots to break in for the long trek so we just figured this was the time to break them in so let’s not go back from whence we came, but push on and find the trail a bit down the mountain.

If I ever needed a boy scout in shining armor, it was then. An HOUR later, after Annie had her pants scared off by an unidentifiable green snake and we’d far surpassed the “this is so funny” part of the excursion; Annie yells “Check your boots!” I look down to see the tail end of a leech squirming through my bootlaces and about 30 others on their way, some already fat on my oh-so juicy ankles, even through my socks!

Gag me with a spoon; I was DONE with the Peace Pagoda at this point. It’s all fun and games until someone is bled to death by parasites. I’d hit my creeped out point, especially as I could feel them in between my toes. Finally, after traversing terrain only comparable to what Atreo had to do in the NeverEnding Story, we ran into two Nepali folk, collecting plants and they calmly said good morning and pointed us in the right direction. Can’t imagine what their families talked about over dinner that evening.

As we saw the shore (the Peace Pagoda is on an island of sorts), cries of joy escaped our throats and we began the wait for a boat to pass by. This was a pretty frequent occurrence as the lake tour canoes glide past there every 2 minutes. This lovely Indian family slid onto the shore and invited us to finish their tour; the she-captain charged us an unholy 250 rupees to sit in the boat. Thank god the family was all facing forward as Annie just ripped her boots off and began tearing the suckers off her feet and ankles. I found a happy place in my head and waited until we got back to the hostel. In the end, the spot outside our door looked like a butcher had been there, but in reality we were no worse for the wear. Leeches are pretty clean little guys who don’t leave a whole lot behind except little holes that won’t stop bleeding and sucker marks for days.

Moral of the story? Where to begin? Check your boots!