Nepal Journal — Thursday, 11/28/96

Day 7: From Rupse Chahara (1550m) to Ghasa (2000m)

The walk to Ghasa is mostly uneventful, although we do pass a dead cow on the trail. This is actually pretty exciting. According to two trekkers standing there, the cow has just come crashing down the hillside minutes before, practically landing on them. They aren't sure whether it had died up on the hill and rolled down, or whether the impact at the bottom killed it. In any event, this is pretty interesting because the dead cow begins attracting an enormous flock of crows and lammergeiers--huge vulture-like birds. Watching the giant birds circle closely overhead is so fascinating it causes a minor crowd of trekkers to form on either side of the dead cow.

Rush hour on the Annapurna circuit

When we get to the Eagle's Nest Lodge in Ghasa, we have another interesting run-in with the local cattle. We're eating lunch in the lodge's rather nice flower garden, when into the garden wanders a large yak. We watch, amused, as the yak heads for the nearest flower bush and--SLURP--sucks down a flower. Slurp, slurp, slurp, it's hoovering up the flowers at an alarming rate. Mom tries to shoo the yak away, but it just looks blankly at her, then resumes eating flowers. We call out to the proprietress of the lodge, who comes running out while yelling at the yak. One look at the screaming proprietress, and the yak high-tails it out of the garden and far up the trail. Final score: Yak 1, Flower-tending Hotel Owners 0.

Coming soon to a menu near you

Chris, Skye, and I spend the afternoon lounging in our rooms, although Mom spends a good deal of time hanging around in the lodge's little kitchen. At dinnertime, we find out why: Mom produces a complete, honest-to-god Thanksgiving dinner. We're all stunned. By this point in our trek, we're getting quite familiar with trail fare, as all of the lodge's serve exactly the same menu. Instead of putting up with the normal menu, Mom has prepared a roast chicken, potatoes, onions, gravy, and salad. There was even stuffing for the chicken, although Mom had to make do with shredded Indian chapatis instead of bread.

All this was done with the help of the lodge owners, to their considerable fascination. They were particularly helpful in procuring a whole chicken, which isn't easy to do here. Apparently, Mom had asked for a whole chicken, and the lodge owner had pointed out a chicken running through the garden: "How about that one?" The chicken turns out to be kind of tough, but the dinner is still memorable. We gloat as some Americans file into the dining room, asking us where our Thanksgiving dinner is on the menu.