Today was about an 7 hour stage up to the high green pastures of Rubrang. We started in gorge country, and again had innumerable river crossings interspersed with a few high traverses above the watercourse. Very gradually, the canyon walls grew smaller, and drew away from the valley, with mea
dows opening up on both sides. After a late lunch, we began to gain views to our left of high mountains and the region of Rubrang Pass, an alternate route into the Markha valley. The going got easier, but the kilometers really started piling up in the afternoon as we trekked through the landscape towards the distant mountains. The river cut a channel into a broad plateau, and we alternated between paralleling the watercourse on the steppe, and dropping down onto rougher boulderfields beside the river. I managed to fall and bang my knee today. I wore tennis shoes for a change but missed on a few river crossings and was unable to keep my feet dry.
Finally, we crossed a side stream entering from our left, ascended a little and arrived at the lush grass oasis of Rubrang. Showers were on offer in the t
oilet tent (!) and L. and I took advantage of this. High winds threatened to reveal all. The horsemen conducted an impromptu cricket match on a sloping ground. We had the second installment of P.S.'s smoked salmon tonight...yummy...but two trekkers chose to rest in their tents rather than join the feast. Dining tent conversation pretty much focused on yesterday's special cave; T., our head cook, and St. and T., our local guides, were the successful climbers. I think we listened to Orson Well's original radio broadcast of War of the Worlds in the dining tent this evening. The temperature fell very quickly as the evening wore on in a harbinger of things to come. Our camp was at about 4500 meters tonight or 15,000 feet. I don't really feel the altitude any more. A few health observations about the trekkers...remain private.
dows opening up on both sides. After a late lunch, we began to gain views to our left of high mountains and the region of Rubrang Pass, an alternate route into the Markha valley. The going got easier, but the kilometers really started piling up in the afternoon as we trekked through the landscape towards the distant mountains. The river cut a channel into a broad plateau, and we alternated between paralleling the watercourse on the steppe, and dropping down onto rougher boulderfields beside the river. I managed to fall and bang my knee today. I wore tennis shoes for a change but missed on a few river crossings and was unable to keep my feet dry.Finally, we crossed a side stream entering from our left, ascended a little and arrived at the lush grass oasis of Rubrang. Showers were on offer in the t
oilet tent (!) and L. and I took advantage of this. High winds threatened to reveal all. The horsemen conducted an impromptu cricket match on a sloping ground. We had the second installment of P.S.'s smoked salmon tonight...yummy...but two trekkers chose to rest in their tents rather than join the feast. Dining tent conversation pretty much focused on yesterday's special cave; T., our head cook, and St. and T., our local guides, were the successful climbers. I think we listened to Orson Well's original radio broadcast of War of the Worlds in the dining tent this evening. The temperature fell very quickly as the evening wore on in a harbinger of things to come. Our camp was at about 4500 meters tonight or 15,000 feet. I don't really feel the altitude any more. A few health observations about the trekkers...remain private. 
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