Adventure

Some more local families overtook us and surged forward at a fast pace, almost a routine walk for them. I wanted to keep my own steady pace using the umbrella as walking stick. At the age of 68, one needs to listen to one’s body and not rush to compete with others. We pushed every step, slow and steady and continued climbing. My thigh and calf muscles started aching demanding rest. As we kept climbing my breathing became harder and started roaring into my ears. We trudged on. The mountain breeze, when it came, helped me like a breath of fresh air. A crow hovered upwind in search of a prey perhaps. The climb became grimmer as we continued to angle towards the top. My shirt, which had been soaked with sweat, now felt stiff and uncomfortable. I wiped the perspiration from my forehead that was trickling into my eyes. I glanced at the rock face towards my right and saw the holy Gompa across that looked like toy houses stuck together on the rock face with glue. It became bigger as we climbed further up and reduced the distance with the rock face. We pushed slowly with no sense of hurry. The aroma of the jungle was printed on every whiff of breeze that I savored. The mist rose from the valley below and started blotting out the tumbled slopes of the rocky cliff below the Gompa.
After about an hour and a half we reached a midpoint, rested and sipped water. It would be unwise to rest for too long as once the body gets cold it will be difficult to climb up, better keep the body warm and maintain the rhythm of the climb.