tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-90728705121401656862023-12-01T18:39:31.767-08:00Sacred Mountain ExpeditionShelly Benoit and Rod Georgiuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07576379444307942020noreply@blogger.comBlogger65125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9072870512140165686.post-38556847831168771632008-01-03T15:39:00.000-08:002009-03-26T15:53:06.536-07:00An IntroductionHello Interested Readers!<br /><br />This blog chronicles our sacred mountain climbing expedition around the world in 2007. We began our global circumnavigation with the Winter Solstice of 2006 (Dec 21, 2006) climbing our local sacred mountain, Mt. Shasta, California. We ended the expedition on the following Winter Solstice (Dec 21, 2007) climbing the same peak, Mt. Shasta. We began and ended our circumnavigation at the same point in space, both location in California and location in our orbit around the Sun.<br /><br />Through the year of 2007, we traveled eastward; first through central and south America, then to Africa and Europe, then to central Asia and East Asia, and back to the United States. The blog text is laid out by date, with the most recent posts appearing below. Please see the "Blog Archive" list (on the right) to see the stories of mountains we visited and climbed in chronological order.<br /><br />Enjoy our journey!<br />Shelly and RodShelly Benoit and Rod Georgiuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07576379444307942020noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9072870512140165686.post-6378843703796929682007-12-30T17:23:00.000-08:002009-03-26T17:51:45.430-07:00Mt ShastaMt Shasta: 12/21-22/07, Winter Solstice<br />California, USA<br /><br />Well Shasta, we came back to you. Safe and sound. Did you expect us? Oh, I see. You were along with us the whole time. Was it just to keep us safe? Or did you need the healing, the power, the experience of the other mountains too? Maybe so. Those peaks have given Rod and I a gift to hold onto, and they have given it to you too. Were we just a vehicle for you to ride to see your family? Were we an adventure you couldn't resist? Regardless, now I understand that you have made the same journey as we have, and you are stronger for it. I can feel it. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2002/2146968729_290e2ce7e2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2002/2146968729_290e2ce7e2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a> And now you are a companion. You feel like an old friend. Coming back here really does feel like the closing of a circle. Well, it is. One full circle around Sun, one full circle around Earth. One full circle of seasons and stars. it is so safe and comfortable being back here with you. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2218/2146968131_bfbb19e325_m.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 180px; height: 240px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2218/2146968131_bfbb19e325_m.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a> Rod and I skinned up from Bunny Flat, stopped on the same ridge as last year and bowed to you. Then up to Horse Camp where we set up our tent (a much faster and more streamlined process than last time!), and enjoyed a full moon over your bright snowy edges. Wind howling. We melted snow, made dinner, then sat giggling and grinning stupidly at each other. We did it! It's done. We have circumnavigated the world climbing sacred mountains -an intentional yearlong meditation. A meditation on mountains, cultures, ourselves, our relationship, our fears, limitations, gifts, humor, impatience, misconceptions, and insights. A meditation on the sacred and the power of mountains in our lives and dreams. And we're back! It worked! Back at home, ease of old friends. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2044/2147763812_2de6d1253b.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 375px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2044/2147763812_2de6d1253b.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />We popped open a bottle of nice Champagne (yup, carried the glass bottle and all -what's an extra few pounds on a night like this?). We popped it open and took swigs strait as we completely lost control. We were full volume. Swaying and hooting and howling at the moon. Our ruckus echoing off the ridges. Full moon, a splash for you Shasta, and tears. Celebration! We did it! We did it! We did it! <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2088/2147764178_e014ce8f7f.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2088/2147764178_e014ce8f7f.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2141/2146968431_c91a8a7b5f_m.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 180px; height: 240px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2141/2146968431_c91a8a7b5f_m.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />And yes Shasta, my old friend, remember back? You were the first big mountain I ever climbed. I was 18 years old. You pushed me, and tossed me, and worked my overconfident ass, and it did change my life. All I wanted to do after that was climb mountains... backpacking being just a skill needed to approach, rock climbing a skill to reach the peak, skiing a skill to better come down. We began this expedition with a bow to you, asking for your protection and blessing. You not only gave us that, you further decided to accompany us. And now we're back. Right here. The circumnavigation complete. We have visited, communicated with, paid our respect to, received teachings from, been thrown our by, and been given the gift of summiting a globe of mountains, all Apus really. Mountains held in sacred esteem by the peoples who know them. And we are now three bodies carrying the sacred light of these monuments to peace, love, and power from all around the world.<br /><br />Peace <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2349/2147763172_0457445e4d.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2349/2147763172_0457445e4d.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a>Shelly Benoit and Rod Georgiuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07576379444307942020noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9072870512140165686.post-51072964313681886142007-12-15T08:30:00.000-08:002008-04-09T13:59:58.938-07:00Mt Mauna LoaMauna Loa: 12/14-16/07<br />Hawaii, USA<br /><br />We are heading back home to the good ol’ U. S. of A.!!<br />We flew from Bangkok to Tokyo, then directly Tokyo to Kona, Hawaii, arriving the morning of the same day we left! Back in the USA… I can read all the signs, I can talk to everyone, they all understand everything I say! <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2120/2147622455_c5546bacf2.jpg" border="0" /><br />Alarmingly, when I am carrying my bag into the hotel lobby to check in, an unknown man sees me coming, backs up, opens and holds the door for me! Twilight zone! Where are we?!! Then, strolling around our hotel that afternoon is a strange feeling of sponging up another new place, new culture, and yet the mild ease of belonging somehow. My first impressions are that the people are a bit rednecky, the streets are a little overly clean and ordered, and every stranger is totally familiar.<br /><br />We stay in Kona that night, then get some breakfast at Lava Java and go food shopping at the natural food store. I can read all the labels. The brands are familiar. Once we have gathered what we need for a few days in the backcountry, we drive south to Hawaii Volcanoes National Park. After so many months in Asia, where driving is it’s own distinctive endeavor, the order and almost fanatical rule following on US roads is somewhat shocking. The patience when someone slows down, the staying inside the lines, the lack of honking, the courtesy... It’s disconcerting.<br /><br />We can't find any fuel for our stove in Kona, so our first enterprise is to visit the ranger station, get our permit, and see if/where we can get fuel. Of course it is raining. It is raining, and it is the front of a large storm that will last through the days we are here. We ask for a permit to hike from the Mauna Loa Strip Road trailhead to the summit of Mauna Loa (13,501ft, 4115m) and reserve bed space in the Pu'u 'Ula'ula (Red Hill) cabin and Mauna Loa summit cabin along the way. The rangers look at us with bewildered eyes.<br />They call their boss over. “Nobody is up there.” They all stare at us. Then, fairly, start questioning us, trying to assess our experience. “Have you ever climbed a mountain before?”<br />“Yes, many.”<br />“Which ones?<br />I have trouble arriving at an answer for this. Should I start listing? I don’t know how to begin. Rod jumps in just naming mountain ranges where we have climbed, “The Sierra, the Cascades, the Andes, the Alps, the Caucus…”,<br />I start to feel weird, “… and others.”<br />The boss ranger says, “Well, no <em>real</em> mountaineer would go up there in a storm. I mean, it’s snowing up there!”<br />Maybe there something here we don’t know about? I thought Mauna Loa it is a fairly simple low angle walk on a marked trail over lava to the summit; no steeps, no glaciers, nothing treacherous. So we start asking the questions…<br />“Why, is there avalanche danger?” No.<br />“Chance of ice falls?” No.<br />“Danger of falling a distance on slick ice?”<br />“No, but the wind is so strong, it might blow you into the crater!”.<br />Whatever, just give us the permits, if it looks to treacherous, we’ll just turn around and come back. Really, the one thing to be concerned about, which the rangers didn’t emphasize, is visibility. If the snow storm reduces visibility enough, seeing the trail might be difficult, and since it is a broad lava field, it will be easy to get lost.<br /><br />The ranger station doesn’t have any fuel we can use with our stove, so we head to the Ace Hardware store in the small town of Volcano. They don’t have any either. Rod figures out a way to rig a way our stove can work on the type of fuel bottles available. So maybe we’ll be OK. We probably have enough food that does not require cooking to make it through the climb anyway. It is cold and rainy, harsh reality after so many weeks in Thailand. Isn’t supposed to be <em>warm</em> in Hawaii?<br /><br />We find a great B&B in Volcano. It is a big yellow old style Hawaiian ranch house, with some surrounding buildings. We get a room, (a room with showers and clean sheets (yippee!)) and a cat that keeps sneaking in and demanding pets. We unpack and pack up for our early start tomorrow morning, then head into the restaurant for dinner.<br /><br />Wow! It is Christmas season! We have not encountered any Christmas stuff yet, and frankly, forgot that it is so soon. In the restaurant there is a large decorated Christmas tree. As we are eating, Christmas carolers come in and sing. With the cold rain outside, the burning fire against the wall, the carolers and decorations, it really begins to sink in that we are warmly coming home.<br /><br />The next morning, at 6:30, we load our backpacks into the car (we decide to take a rope with us in case the visibility gets really bad), and drive up to the trail head (6,662ft). We almost run over an endangered Nene (Hawaiian goose). With our rain gear on, we start up the trail, the wind blowing hard. We find that it is hard to identify the trail because it is all just one field of grey rock. In fact, it would be impossible to find it if the tall cairns were not in place.<img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2365/2148415262_85ab87af16.jpg" border="0" /><br />In Hawaiian, Mauna Loa means “Long Mountain”, and boy is that ever true! This volcano is a “shield volcano”, or basaltic volcano. Unlike the Cascade volcanoes (andesitic volcanoes) shield volcanoes are rarely explosive and mostly just oose. Basalt is a type of lava that is very fluid when erupted. Therefore these volcanoes are not steep (you can’t pile up a fluid that easily runs downhill), and are shaped just like a shield laid on the ground. Rod says the he will never climb a shield volcano again. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2280/2148393386_2af46976fc.jpg" border="0" />It is the longest, boringest, walk; it feels like we are walking almost on flat ground (and we have to get up to 13,501ft, so you do the math). Then to add to it, we are walking on rugged lava rock the whole way, getting rained and sleeted on, and often find earth cracks, or break through thin crusts, or have to climb over lava tubes. It is slow going, to say the least.<br /><br />In the afternoon, we arrive at the Red Hill cabin (10,035ft). <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2019/2148390220_c027d9a81b.jpg" border="0" />It is hard to believe that this is only 7.5 miles from the trailhead. It is surprisingly cold up here, the humidity and elevation are not a good combo. We shiver our way through dinner (the rigged stove is working),<img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2160/2147615569_fc9ee0081e.jpg" border="0" /> drink a lot of hot tea, and climb into our chilly sleeping bags. I sleep in all the clothes I brought.<br /><br />We wake up early to a freezing cabin and freezing rain splattering the windows. After breakfast and lots of hot tea, we bundle up and continue up the endless lava field. By mid morning we have reached the snow level. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2272/2147603717_5349a04baa.jpg" border="0" />By lunch time, we are trudging through a blizzard, thanking each tall cairn marking our way. We finally reach the trail junction on the low rim of the large summit crater, 9.5 miles from the Red Hill cabin. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2363/2148403302_32068f4bb5.jpg" border="0" /><br />From this point it is 2.6 miles to the actual mountain summit on the right (but only about 600ft higher elevation), and 2.1 miles to the Mauna Loa Summit Cabin on the left (200ft elevation gain). We set out for the summit, dreading the reality of 2.6 there, 2.6 back, and then 2.1 to dinner. We walk for about one hour, and reach a point practically level with the farther away summit, but on the rim overlooking the crater. We stop here.<br /><br />The summit of Mauna Loa is where the goddess Pele found refuge. Hawaiian legends say that volcano goddess Pele was driven from her home by her angry older sister, Na-maka-o-kaha'i because Pele had seduced her husband. Every time Pele would thrust her digging stick into the earth to dig a pit for a new home, Na-maka-o-kaha'i, goddess of water and the sea, would flood the pits. Pele eventually landed on the Big Island, where she made Mauna Loa her new home. Mauna Loa was so tall that even Pele's sister could not send the ocean's waves high enough to drown Pele's fires. So Pele established her home on its slopes.<br /><br />We pay our respects to Pele, then turn around and head back to the trail junction. From there we suffer our way along the last 2.1 miles to the Summit cabin (13,250ft). I swear, these were the longest two miles of my life! 2.1 has just got to be a miscalculation. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2225/2147611775_929cdb722f.jpg" border="0" />Rod and I stumble into the cabin as the sun is setting. In a blank stupor, we heat up some water for tea and get dinner started. After eating a bit we feel better and start to plan out our descent. Could we do it in one day? If we can, then we can eat all our food now, and wouldn’t that be nice! Yeah, lets walk all the 19+ miles down to the car tomorrow. That sounds sensible. Proof that altitude affects judgment?<br /><br />The next morning, we wake before dawn, in order to make it to the car before dark. When I walk out to the water tank, I find that the tap has frozen solid. We use the water in our bottles (we filled everything up last night) for breakfast, put on our down and gore-tex and head out with headlamps lighting our way. The sunrise over the snowy slopes and ocean is gorgeous.<img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2130/2147601441_65e3dbe609.jpg" border="0" /> We even get a great view of Mauna Kea before the days worth of blizzard hits us. We try to make good time down through the blizzard, it wouldn’t be possible with out those great tall cairns. Our clothes were covered with a layer of ice… We <em>are</em> in Hawaii, right?! <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2324/2147613961_7ce8f93c93.jpg" border="0" /><br />We struggle to get to the Red Hill cabin for lunch. We are hungry and out of water. The cabin is so warm and nice compared to what we have been walking through all day. We make and drink endless cups of tea, eat a casual lunch, and just lounge around for too long a time. Continuing the walk to the car does not sound fun, but we don’t have dinner for tonight, so we better be on our way. Whose crazy idea was this; doing it all in one day?!<br /><br />Our knees and feet are killing us, the elevation markers seem dreadfully far apart, we groan with each big step down. As the sun begins to set, finding the trail becomes more difficult. Things become tense as we try, unsuccessfully, to beat the spinning of Earth to our car. With headlamps out, we eventually make it. Wordlessly, we throw our packs in the trunk, peel off our boots and socks, preferring thong shoes, and collapse into the car. We drive back to the yellow B&B. When we get out of the car, neither of us can walk, our legs have just seized up completely. We gimp into our room, then make it just in time for the last dinner seating.<br /><br />It is so pleasant to be exhausted and eating good food and drinking good wine with a fire and a Christmas tree and Christmas music. Our time in Hawaii is the perfect buffer between all the places we have been, and coming back to California... just loosely easing us in. Thanks to Pele for a safe journey on her mountain,<br />and<br />Mele Kalikimaka!Shelly Benoit and Rod Georgiuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07576379444307942020noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9072870512140165686.post-29649591989246914892007-11-22T08:19:00.000-08:002008-02-19T18:37:47.044-08:00Phi Phi<div>Climbing in Phi Phi: 11/22-12/10/07<br /><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div>Thailand<br /><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2266/2147181401_b2aef7be5f.jpg" border="0" /> </div><br /><div>Ode to the sweet luxury of the porch. I'm sitting here, on our little bamboo bungalow’s porch, chewing my breakfast Pad Thai and sipping the water out of a coconut. This morning, I did as I have done most every morning here on Phi Phi Island, Thailand. I wake up, climb out from under the mosquito netting, put my bathing suit on, walk out of the bungalow onto the beach, slip into the cool morning sea, swim out to the buoy and back looking at the fish, dry off by laying in the sun, go back to the bungalow for a shower and get dressed, eat Pad Thai breakfast with Rod on the porch (he has either Muesli or Fried Rice), and think about what we will climb today. I think i could stay here forever!<img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2309/2147930388_c05bfdc969.jpg" border="0" /></div><br /><div>Our bungalow is at the end of a long beach. Tonsai Village is at the other end (about a 5 min walk) and on this side is the rock climbing area, Tonsai Tower. A massive overhanging chunk of lime stone, Tonsai Tower has over 20 well bolted sport climbs. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2263/2147916690_323cff78a7.jpg" border="0" />The jungle behind our bungalow, between the tower and us, has a resident family of monkeys that steal our food while we are climbing, and turn over the garbage cans here on the beach. A couple of times, i have walked out in the morning to confront one scavenging up on our porch. They are quite aggressive, sneaky, and smart... a constant source of entertainment. In fact, right now, I am watching two climb up a papaya tree and trying to knock a fruit down. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2420/2147933996_452a047342.jpg" border="0" />Oh, they got it. Now the biggest is taking bites of the fruit, while the juveniles are eager on the periphery to pick up what is left. Little fights break out with dramatized screaming and bolting.<br /><br />Ahh, another regular day in Phi Phi (pronounced Pee Pee, and so therefore unfortunately the town Phuket is similarly said). Today, after breakfast, we will do some yoga and read on the porch until about 10:30. Earlier in the morning the Tower is in the sunshine. We try climbing in the sun, but it is so hot and humid, that we are literally dripping with sweat instantly, and our sweaty hands can't hold onto the slippery limestone. After 10:30 the rock is in the shade, and the heat and sweat are manageable. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2342/2278738212_f1cb3d7f18.jpg" border="0" />It took us about a week to discover how to manage the mosquitoes however. Finally we found that burning a mosquito incense, available in town, kept the pests in check. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2255/2278746962_8c704bd60e.jpg" border="0" /><br />Like I said, the climbing here is good fun. There are many routes that are good warm ups and great to build confidence on lead. We amuse ourselves with everything from simple satisfying leads to thrilling frightening leads to "no way will I lead that, maybe we can top rope it" climbs. And plenty to fill each day without getting bored. We will climb until about 2:30, then back to the bungalow for swimming and reading until evening. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2264/2277939261_e06505d73e.jpg" border="0" /></div><br /><div></div><div>Our bungalow is in a great location, 2 min walk from the climbing, right on the beach, and shade from Tonsai Tower covers it from about 1:00 on. It is cool and comfortable when the rest of the beach and village are sweltering. We usually walk along the beach to the village an hour or two before dinner time, so that we can go to the internet cafe or pick up anything we need in the market. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2229/2147972640_403575a811.jpg" border="0" />Although we have tried most of the restaurants in the village, we keep returning to the Le Grand Bleu - by far the best restaurant in town. It is in a beautiful traditional wood building, decorated with plants, Thai paintings and fabrics, and staffed by nicest friendliest women. And you wouldn't believe their red curry! <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2046/2147970702_01ee91b64c.jpg" border="0" /><br />Last night, on the way to the village, we passed through a big gathering of people watching something going on in the harbor, most of the village was there. A barge with a crane had been called to rescue a sinking ship. It was all kinds of chaos with men on the barge and ship yelling at each other, and swimming to put slings around the ship, and maneuvering a flat boat with a water pump, and the crane trying not to break the ship in half. In the time i was watching, the ship was sinking about one foot every 15 min. It was very exciting. When we came back after dinner they had it back afloat... it all worked out somehow.<br /><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2319/2147924904_a5c553fc77.jpg" border="0" /><br />On days we are not climbing (come on, we can't climb everyday, gotta rest too :) we have a few enjoyable reserve activities. A favorite is to head to the book store in the village. They serve great coffee, and we sit and read and pet the sweetest yellow lab who is always hanging out on the sun deck. She mostly sleeps, but sometimes she excitedly jumps up and soon we hear the bicycle coming... her owner calls her, and off she runs to the beach for a swim, which is her favorite thing.<br /><br />A walk through town and up over to the other side of island is always an adventure. The path starts with the tsunami trail; which is both a planned escape-to-high-ground route should another tsunami hit, and a memorial to the devastation of the 2004 tsunami that hit much of Thailand. From the top of the island, we see the ruins of buildings and the broken vegetation of areas not yet cleaned up. One man we spoke with, who was here for the tsunami, said he was asleep in his room on the 2nd floor when it happened. With all the noise, he woke up and looked downstairs to see his house and the whole ground under churning water. He was fine, his house stayed standing, but most of the village was completely destroyed, and he lost many friends. It is amazing though how the people here bounce back, rebuild, and maintain such a cheerful attitude. After admiring the views from the top of the island, <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2185/2147123923_e1ba16e7c6.jpg" border="0" />we walk down the steep slippery path through the noisy jungle and onto the beaches on the other side. One of these has some beautiful bungalows and a tasty restaurant. We stay for dinner, but then have the scary walk back through the jungle at night; homicidal psycho jungle roots grabbing our feet.<br /><br />On calm afternoons, when the sea is flat, we hire a flatboat <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2380/2147164775_e0682d760f.jpg" border="0" />to take us out to one of the small rock islands surrounding Phi Phi. In the shallow bay on the south side of the rock, is the Best Snorkeling Ever! Wow! I am truly amazed by the abundant life, the staggering diversity, the electric colors, and the warm crystal clear water. And we are the only people as far as we can see. We snorkel and swim around, we dive off the bow, we stop to snack on bananas and grilled squid with chili sauce, we snorkel some more... then the sun gets low and it's time to head back. Watching the sunset over the strange jungle topped rock formations, tired and relaxed from swimming, while bouncing along the waves may be my fondest memory of all our time here.<br /><br />Now it is just a few more days of this paradise. From here, we fly back to the U.S., to climb Mauna Loa, Hawaii, and then back to California. The trip is coming to an end, our circumnavigation is almost complete. Ahh, but it will be so hard to leave here! In fact, Rod just suggested that we don't. We could just stay awhile. It is certainly hard to leave Phi Phi, I hope to get back here someday... and the adventure continues on.</div><br /><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2121/2147956172_255065ae8c.jpg" border="0" /> </div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div><br /><div></div>Shelly Benoit and Rod Georgiuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07576379444307942020noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9072870512140165686.post-17853236396644772772007-11-15T08:16:00.000-08:002008-01-29T16:22:48.150-08:00Mt AgungMt Agung (Gunung Agung): 11/9-17/2007<br />Bali, Indonesia<br /><br />An aside:<br />On our way to Bali, in one series of flights, we discovered the polar opposites of airports: Worst airport ever - Delhi, India, and best airport visited - Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. We flew from Katmandu, on Cosmic Air (not recommended), to Delhi, where we had to stay in the transit area for 6 hours. There was a restaurant and a book shop, but no ATMs or money exchange in the area, and we were not allowed to go into the rest of the airport without a visa to India, everyone there was coming from another country (so didn’t have local currency)! And that cluster was just the tip of the dysfunctional iceberg. From there we flew overnight to Kuala Lumpur, and into the ultimate juxtaposition. A very well organized, beautiful, clean airport, many coffee shops, restaurants, and shops (several well placed ATMs), and with a nice hotel inside the terminal, so transiting travelers did not have to go through customs or anything. We got a room, slept until 1:00pm, and caught our flight into Denpasar, Bali, without leaving the airport.<br /><br />OK, now in Bali:<br />From the Denpasar we get a taxi to the quiet beach town of Sanur. What a pleasure! Our hotel is beautiful; fresh flowers, clean white linen, geckos on the wall, the sweet fragrances of Plumeria and ocean, the staff is very friendly and welcoming. What a pleasant shock after our time in China, Tibet and Nepal! We get settled in and walk out into the humid heat looking for dinner.<br /><br />Oh my, the Bali food! Raw chilies, shrimp paste, palm sugar and tamarind. Turmeric, ginger, roasted coconut, peanuts, musk limes. Anchovies, fresh sambal (spicy chopped chili in sweet soy sauce), goat meat and pounded fish. Yum!!! And some local arak (alcohol from fermented palm fruits) to top it all off! Yippee!<br /><br />We decide to give ourselves a beach-lounging day before heading up to Mt. Agung. After a sweaty morning run, then a sweaty breakfast, we get into our bathing suits and plop our white asses under an umbrella on the beach. We spend the day reading, napping, having banana milks,<br /><p><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2325/2147473417_f246fdaf77.jpg" border="0" />getting pedicures, swimming… basking, basically. It was excellent.<br /><br />We do not head up into the interior of the island the next morning because our run and strenuous basking the day before have given rod a pulled calf muscle. We happily stay in Sanur at our great hotel and bask some more. In the afternoon, we take a boat out to the reef for some snorkeling. On the way home from dinner that night, we pass a temple with the strangest melodic jangly sounds of bells and drums bursting through its gates. We stop and listen to the traditional music played by an all women gamelan (orchestra of 35 to 40 musicians) sitting on the floor. It is an odd, clangy, mystic, and sometimes haunting sound.<br /><br />The next morning, after breakfast, internet, and hair cuts for both of us (it was so hot, I cut most of my hair off), we rent a car to drive to Agung. It is a little heap of junk, but we think it will be OK… time will tell. Driving is scary! It is hard to explain the chaos of narrow roads, no agreed upon driving rules or etiquette, and getting used to being on the left side instead of the right. On top of that, so many things to look at! Wood workshops building furniture and doors, rock sculptures, temples everywhere. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2038/2147468113_9eeb4335e5.jpg" border="0" />And every business, home, or building had a high place where offerings are made daily. Most people also put little palm woven bowls with rice and flowers and such, as offerings, on the doorstep or entry way. We drive to the town of Candidasa, and find a beautiful hotel to stay in.<img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2018/2147458537_4052cd975d.jpg" border="0" /> We play drums on our porch overlooking the sea while watching the sun set.<br /><br />We spend the next morning swimming and drinking tea on the porch, then set out to see the Temple (Pura) Besakih on the South West side of Gunung Agung. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2020/2147480419_11ee51faf8.jpg" border="0" />This temple complex is Bali’s most important. It is really 23 separate but related temples, built at various times, but thought to have originated about 2000 years ago. Usually each temple is devoted to a specific God or group of Gods. Balinese religion is an interesting combination of Hinduism, Buddhism, Malay ancestor cults, and animistic and magical beliefs and practices. The island is the only remaining stronghold of Hinduism in the Indonesia archipelago (which is mostly Muslim). The crater edge of Agung’s summit looms over the complex when the clouds decide to reveal it, and many annual festivals are devoted to the Gods descending from the mountain. Gunung Agung is the abode of Batara Gunung Agung, also known as Mahadewa, the supreme manifestation of Shiva. We walk through the temples and are stunned by the unique rock work, strange lines of split gates,<img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2299/2148293246_317be7cf9f.jpg" border="0" /> and grass roofed meru towers. The afternoon light fades as we decide to return to the car. As we walk down we turn, look up, and get a rare and lucky view of the mountain through the clouds. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2388/2147501543_af0567b30a.jpg" border="0" /><br />We decide to drive to the town of Sideman to stay that night and arrange a guide to climb the mountain. It is now dark and we get lost on the wrong road. We attempt asking directions periodically, do a lot of U-turns, get cranky, but finally get onto a road that should take us into the town. The little heap of junk we rented is smoking. We follow the steep road down into a valley full of rice paddies, and then up the windy other side. Just when we see the soft lights of Sideman, the car dies. So here we are, on a steep windy road, in the middle of rice paddies, alone, in the dark with a smoking heap. Should we sleep here? How far is the town exactly? Can we fix the car and get there? Pretty soon a motorcyclist turns the corner and stops, and then his friend comes by and stops. One of the guys works at a hotel up the road and calls the owner to come and get us in his car. But before the owner can get there, we get the car started again, and drive it the short distance to the hotel, which turns out to be another great place. We have dinner served to us on our porch, and eat overlooking the river valley.</p><p>The next day we hang out at the hotel, <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2186/2147464051_c6946f1379.jpg" border="0" />do yoga, and arrange for a guide and driver to pick us up at 3 am the next morning (11/15/07). He is on time, and we drive an hour to another temple complex on the south side of Agung, Pura Sambu. There, we climb the steep stairs up to the first level of the temple, then around (clockwise) to the trail up the mountain in the back. The path up is slippery, with vines and roots winding through the slick earth. Our guide, a nice 34 year old father and high school student (very proud of going to school), stops two times to make offerings to the mountain. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2148/2148304726_178f6081d4.jpg" border="0" />We emerge above tree line as the sun rises, and make it to the rocky, very windy summit (3142m) before the usual clouds form. We make offerings of bananas and arak by throwing them over the steep edge of the summit crater (during some festivals, they also throw goats and flowers in as offerings). I<img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2418/2148315498_eaee10671a.jpg" border="0" />t is beautiful up there, and surprisingly cold for being at latitude 8. We eat a snack and enjoy the cloudless view before heading back down. We visit the temple at the bottom, <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2119/2148282660_88dae62fe4.jpg" border="0" />then drive back to the hotel, arriving after dark.<br /><br />After one last breakfast overlooking the brilliant green valley, and getting a special morning view of the mountain, <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2316/2148301890_c29defb423.jpg" border="0" />we get back into our car hoping to make it back to Sanur without breaking down. Of course we don’t. The first time the car dies, a policeman helps us push it off the road and get it started again, the second time we are fed up and walk to a roadside café to call the guy we rented from to bring us a new car. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2172/2148248958_b07c345c51.jpg" border="0" />After much mixed English and Bahasa Balinese on both sides, we manage to borrow a cell phone and get a hold of another car. Back in Sanur that afternoon, free of car responsibilities, we swim and bask until sunset.<br /><br />That night, our last night in Bali, we walk past the temple where we saw/heard the music before, and luck out again! This time there is a smaller orchestra, a gong kebyar, playing the strange music. We sit down on the edge of the raised floor to listen. After a song or two, a woman gets up and begins to dance. The dance is amazing; the woman has such precise control over everything from her finger tips to her neck to the arches of her feet. The next song, two more women get up and join her. What a treat to come across this! The best part is that this is a local, informal, gathering at the temple, not a show for tourists, they are just practicing and laughing, the whole family is there… we just luck out to be walking by. </p><p>For me, the meaningful part is to see the young girls, maybe 8 or 9 years old, watching the women dance and trying to emulate them, trying to remember all the moves in admiration. This is a culture that, despite the influence of extensive tourism, religious tension with its government, and exposure to modern global culture, holds its traditions and beliefs out in celebration. The young are eager to learn and be a part of their history and customs, enabling its enduring richness.<br /><br />Bali is a true gem.</p>Shelly Benoit and Rod Georgiuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07576379444307942020noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9072870512140165686.post-71278785674096196912007-11-04T08:13:00.000-08:002007-12-31T14:10:30.174-08:00Katmandu<div><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Kathmandu</span>: 11/3-8/07<br />Nepal<br /><br />We stopped in <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Kathmandu</span> for a few days on our way from Tibet to Bali... didn't do much there except eat and sleep and eat and morning yoga and eat and shop and eat. After the basic and bland food of Tibet, and the MSG loaded food of China, the complex <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">tastes</span> and fresh <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">ingredients</span> of Nepali food were <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">heavenly</span>. Here are some photos of our daily walks through this <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">incense</span> smelling, crowded, eye catching, and very interesting town:<img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2215/2147580787_6e2f079d2c.jpg" border="0" /></div><div>Afternoon skies over the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Durbar</span> Square in the central city</div><div><br /></div><div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2196/2147567169_50e49fdb9e.jpg" border="0" /></div><div>The crowded streets of the old town. Wonderful smells of food and shops selling all sorts of interesting things. Midday. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2235/2147577527_222bbb66dd.jpg" border="0" /> A man selling birds walking around the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Durbar</span> square.</div><div><br /></div><div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2180/2147579511_be7f9fb423.jpg" border="0" /></div><div><br /></div><div>Women selling flowers, given as offerings at the many shrines, on the street corner.<img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2349/2148355944_ab933b5c51.jpg" border="0" /></div><div>Many places along the streets are small <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">doorways</span> that lead into large open squares. These places are filled with <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">stupas</span>, sculptures, and shrines. Walking through town is like walking through an unorganized dispersed museum... with pieces dating from thousands of year ago up to the present. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2125/2147565599_05380fd222.jpg" border="0" /></div><div>It all seems to work somehow... the open and chaotic ways of the city and people are everywhere, but it all flows in <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">peaceful</span> energy.</div><div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2167/2147571517_cc9944979d.jpg" border="0" /></div>In a large square between two narrow streets ladies dry and sift their <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">basmati</span> rice.<br /><div></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2119/2147563875_2e070cbdd2.jpg" border="0" />Men playing chess on the street.<img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2006/2148367462_b0770d0518.jpg" border="0" /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">Stupas</span> are everywhere, often squished between buildings. Kids use these areas as parks and play areas (even some cricket games).<img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2242/2147569213_5dec14ff85.jpg" border="0" /><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">Pigeons</span> rule the streets! It <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">doesn't</span> help that these ladies love to feed them! <br /><div></div>Shelly Benoit and Rod Georgiuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07576379444307942020noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9072870512140165686.post-71519735958861090452007-11-04T02:54:00.000-08:002007-12-18T08:18:49.919-08:00Blogging Resumes!Hallo! We are out of China's ability to censor. Yah, that was super annoying, but at the same time,... a bit flattering. I will be adding photos slowly, so check starting with Mt Belukha. Peace.Shelly Benoit and Rod Georgiuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07576379444307942020noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9072870512140165686.post-46351458379897159522007-10-26T00:13:00.000-07:002007-12-30T18:13:53.745-08:00Mt KailashMt Kailash: 10/25-27/07<br /><div><div><div>Tibet<br /></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2127/2149004393_23325ef904.jpg" border="0" /><em>Journal entry 10/24</em> : I hear a rustling of thick plastic packaging in the cot next to me. Our food is there, and so is something else. I see the tail flash as I look over our bags of food with my headlamp. A mouse! I put on my headlamp, grab the bag, slip on my sneakers, and walk out the door. In the freezing dusty wind I untie the bag and dump the contents on the ground. The mouse, startled among the packages of nuts and peppered tofu, pauses in the lamp beam a moment before running off. I get back into the room and climb back into my sleeping bag. I hope there are no more disturbances tonight as I want a good night sleep. Tomorrow I begin the kora of Mt Kailash (our Tibetan driver calls it Kailashi). This is the mountain that began this crazy idea of a trip. This is the mountain whose image stuck in my mind for years and years, never letting me go. I know I am meant to come here. Well, for tomorrow, I prey for the enlightenment of all beings. I hope that you, Kailash, will dissolve the bad karma I have accumulated in this life, and in past lives. I prey that you will teach me as I walk around you, and you will bless me with your essence to take home and share with others.<br /><br /><em>A little background</em> : Mt Kailash, or Gan Rinpoch, may arguably be the most sacred mountain in the world (Mt Sinai is the only other one even close). The Mountain holds a divine place in Buddhists, Hindus, Jains and Bön-Po religions. Every summer thousands and thousands of devout pilgrims, from across South and East Asia, make the difficult journey to this remote spot to walk the kora around the mountain. It is said that Buddha left an active mandala here, and the sacred vibe or energy around this mountain is so strong it is almost visible. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2258/2149747572_b855b0acbe.jpg" border="0" />In this blog entry I am simply putting my daily journal entries during our trip to, around, and from Kailash. For a more detailed description of sacred Kailash and the kora route, take a look at this excellent essay: <a href="http://www.passages.org.uk/essays/kailas/index.html">http://www.passages.org.uk/essays/kailas/index.html</a><br /><br /><em>Now, back up a few days</em> -<br /><br /><em>Journal entry 10/21</em> : After breakfast at Cafe Nomad, we were picked up at 8:30 by our driver and started the 4 day drive west. We drove past several beautiful monastery/temples. It seems that every little village has a monastery! <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2180/1819958737_1d0a6f98a4.jpg" border="0" />Into Shigatze for lunch. This city has a huge monastery/temple. After lunch we drove to Lhatse, jumbled town, but we found a hotel and were told it was "very clean" compared to what lies ahead. The drive was on the new paved road, but very slow because of all the police checkpoints. We ate at a Tibetan restaurant and met some Austrians. Shared a bottle of wine. It's cold. </div><div></div><br /><div><em>Journal entry 10/22</em> : We left early and continued west. Soon the road turned to dirt. We went over many high passes; all the summits covered with prayer flags and some with Chortens. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2146/2149720454_b6fecef5cc.jpg" border="0" />Stopped for lunch (yak butter tea and beef noodle) at a family's house. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2330/2148928879_cfc3944583.jpg" border="0" />Cold and very windy. Driving on... we got a hotel (with warm electric blanket!) in Saga. Rod got altitude headache (4800m) and I am feeling sick with a cold. Saga gets on the list of worlds most crappie cities. The Chinese have come into the nice Tibetan villages and built ugly cheep buildings and destroyed any charm. </div><div></div><br /><div><em>Journal entry 10/23</em> : We thought about staying here because I have a cold, and the hotel has a bathroom and electric blanket, but no, better to get there. The road turned to dirt just out of town, dusty morning. Passed tents with strange tractor/trucks, <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2392/2149731616_62234a4b22.jpg" border="0" />and saw a group of 4 people walking with baskets on their backs behind 6 packed up Yaks... real Tibetan Plateau Nomads! Had lunch at an adobe house/hotel with some Czechs who just did the Kailash kora. They said it was cold and dirty. We drove to the very pour and dirty village of Paryang. Settled in then sat reading in the sun outside until dinner time. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2365/2148950959_6d91a07f94.jpg" border="0" />At the restaurant saw 2 cyclists arrive... wow! Riding these roads over such long distances and hard conditions! Sleep in our little cold room. </div><div></div><br /><div><em>Journal entry 10/24</em> : We were woken up at 5 am by a big diesel truck parked directly outside our door starting up and filling our room with exhaust. The light from the headlights glaring through the cracks of the door. At 9:30 we finally left the town, after making breakfast and tea in the room, and trying to wash up a bit. Drive, Drive, to lunch (noodles) with a cute cat walking around. Drive, Drive, hit a rock and have to change the tire. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2342/2148948413_55dff2c4bb.jpg" border="0" />Finally drove up to Chiu monastery above the sacred Manasarovar Lake. MAGICAL! The flags up on the rocks, prayer wheels, carved stones, yak skulls. We could see Kailash just across the valley. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2234/2149750088_0ee632dbcf.jpg" border="0" />We got a room in Darchen and walked around the dirty town. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2163/2149842314_77bd664ee2.jpg" border="0" />We are here after the 'official season' has ended, so there are only a few other tourists/pilgrims. But, dinner with two people just back from the kora, glowing. We start tomorrow. </div><div></div><br /><div><em>Journal entry 10/25</em> : As the full moon rose over the North face of Mt Kailash, I crouched and dug a hole in the soft dirt. The biting wind, dogs sparing, or yaks moaning couldn't cut the magic of the moonrise. I rolled up the little paper scrap and placed it in the hole, then quickly covered it as my body shook with cold. The seed I planted? My Voice. My Voice. The voice needed to be a writer, the voice needed to lead people, the ability to speak my true self/intention/voice. If I can always be true with my voice, then I may be able to avoid in the future the mistakes and failures that haunt me from my past. Also, I think I will leave my bole fleece hat on the pass summit tomorrow. It is tradition to leave behind a piece of clothing to symbolize leaving your old life and entering a purer, post-kora life. It will be a symbol of my feelings of regret and failures. I will leave all my failures behind me and enter a new life of having let them go and avoiding new ones.<br />This morning we started the Mt Kailash kora. A freezing morning in the guesthouse after a night of many shivers and little sleep. We walked through town to the 108 prayer wheels. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2031/2149786276_90cf7f6c89.jpg" border="0" />My glove-covered hand spun each wheel as the sacred walking meditation began (clockwise). We walked along the dry path as the sun got warmer, stopping at the first 'prostration point'. </div><br /><p><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2342/2149790722_4c65b16cea.jpg" border="0" />Om mani padme hum. Prayer flags and carved stones framed our first view of Kailashi. The pure white of the glaciers beaming over the dark sheer rocks.<br />As we continued up the long valley along the West side of the mountain we passed endless carved stones and prayer flags. The peak came in and out of view, with each new view point marked by prayers flying in the icy wind. Holding my 108 prayer beads, I chanted my prayers to Kailashi. I preyed for the enlightenment of all beings, in particular my friends and family, and for the dissolution of my bad karma from this life and past ones. Tomorrow I will repeat all these. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2076/2149001577_70b3034657.jpg" border="0" />After lunch, we came to a big rock face that marks the Northwest ridge of the mountain. Here the trail gets closest to the rock massif. We dropped our packs and walked up to the wall. I did the prostration motions I saw in Lhasa on the side of the mountain, three times. I preyed for enlightenment of all beings and for dissolution of my bad karma. I touched both hands to the wall.<br />We passed a monastery, or gompa, high on the opposite hillside, the Chuku Gompa. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2278/2149008845_6daf1cf477.jpg" border="0" />The area around it was scattered with caves. These are the super charged places. I would love to visit them, but I'm getting tired. Someday I come back, maybe. I filled up our water bottles under the big walls. I took photos of mountains, icefalls, birds, deer, yaks. I meditated. I walked.<span style="font-size:0;"> </span>We finally made it to the Dira Phuk Gompa... and to our guest house. Both are basking in the unreal view of the North face of Kailash. So steep and sharp and powerful. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2379/2149810108_02acbee604.jpg" border="0" />The monastery has many chortens (stupas) outside and prayer flags, all facing the mountain. It is funny; the monks like to come down to the guest house because it is run by two young women. They sit in the kitchen/dining/lounging room and drink yak butter tea and eat tortillas (well, I'm sure they have a Tibetan name) and flirt with the women. We fixed dinner and sat in that room too, because it is the only room with heat or light, and enjoyed watching the drama.<br />Suddenly there was some commotion outside. I walked out to see two herds of Yaks, loaded up with bags and blankets, being driven by men yelping and haa-ing. The yaks had blankets over their backs and the men wore traditional cloths and red traditional boots. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2418/2149763422_14decc7687.jpg" border="0" />Two of the Yakmen came into the warm guest house room. They were dirty and shy. They had some warm butter tea and asked if they could stay here for the night. They pitched their tents and herded the Yaks together for sleeping. When inside our room getting ready for bed, I remembered I must plant my seed today. So, I went out into the icy wind in my long underwear to scratch a hole in Kailash dirt and bury my paper, moonrise.<br /><br /><em>Journal entry 10/26</em> : The morning has been very cold. Very cold across the river and very cold up the valley to the Northwest of Kailash. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2394/2148977575_50500b6474.jpg" border="0" />I tried to get connected and do some prayers, but the intense cold kept me focused on just walking. When we emerged over a knoll we entered the sunshine! Finally! We stopped to make tea. I have heard that during the 'summer season' there are tents and stands selling tea and snacks to pilgrims along the kora. We are walking unusually late in the year, so we have to deal with the cold, but also get to have the trail unmarred by enterprising folk... or even other hikers, only a few other pilgrims the whole kora! After tea and some food we continued up to the pass summit (5600 m). I left my hat, and past life, for Kailash to hold on to and bless, then made an offering of water, rice, and incense. When I walked away, I didn't look back.<br />As I walked back toward Rod, a dog who had come with some other pilgrims (who were doing the 50km kora in one day!), was still lying there, and started to whine. It then got up and hobbled down the rocks. It's back right leg was in really bad shape. It must have post-holed through the snow to the rocks below and twisted or pinned its ankle. The ankle was completely broken and only attached by skin. The pour boy was hobbling on the stump of leg and bleeding down the pass. His people were way ahead, not waiting. Later they stopped and tied a rag around the wound, but the dog had to negotiate slippery ice and big rocks for ~20km back to the town... and then what? With its leg/paw flopping every step... it was very upsetting. We tried to give it some meat to eat when we caught up with it, but it wouldn’t eat. We tried to give it some water later, but it wouldn’t drink, only ate snow. Its people were so far ahead now, and it was slowing down and loosing blood. I watched it walking near us for several hours incase it collapsed, but when we crossed the river, we lost sight of it, and never saw it again. Sitting here tonight I think it is probably collapsed and freezing somewhere behind us. Poor dog. Suffering and trying to stay with its people. My new life from Kailash, with my regrets left behind, began with the saddest suffering sweet loyal dog who probably never made it. Suffering. So, second day of Kailash kora was emotional. Kailash gave me a teaching. This dog suffering through it's kora, and I couldn’t do anything to help, and I have to forgive myself for it. Not hold regrets about the dog, I have to accept its suffering and be thankful to it for bringing out my love. It challenged me the whole way down into a new life.<br />Now I am sitting in bed after dinner and hot Tang. We walked into the Zutrul Phuk monastery at 6:00 and the friendly monk brought us hot water. Our room is 5 cots around a low table. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2078/2148986679_b9ffc7fcf3.jpg" border="0" />A dirt floor, and dirt walls with cracks in them, one window, and wood beams on the ceiling. The beams have small wood slats connecting them, then grass matting on top of that. Above that is more dirt so the roof is a dirt floor that can be walked on. There are similar rooms on both sides of ours, and a temple up the steps to the left of the courtyard that our door opens to. The monk played a drum as the sun went down. I hope the dog made it back to town. Full moon on a windy night.<br /><br /><em>Journal entry 10/27</em> : The last day of the kora, we slept in and felt comfortable in our mud room at the monastery. The monk let me inside the temple part; so many paintings of individual lamas on hanging fabrics, "thangkas". And there was a cave in the back. I turned the prayer wheels and put a white scarf in the cave for the dog. Then we packed up and started the last section of trail. Rod began to get the cold I had a few days ago, so we walked slowly. Many carved rocks with paintings, <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2419/2149818248_c67cec216b.jpg" border="0" />and stone slabs with carved prayers piled up on walls.<br />The wind was gusting down the valley as we turned right for the last stretch to town. I put my bandana over my face to block the dust. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2371/2149047323_ca982d46bc.jpg" border="0" />When we got into town, it was striking how dirty it is. How much the Chinese "communist" government is neglecting this place or trying to eradicate its people is astonishing. No running water, no electricity (well, the Chinese police building has electricity, but it is the only building in the area, everyone else has either a generator or nothing), plastic garbage everywhere... I walked to the 108 prayer wheels where we started and spun each one with a prayer.<br />After washing up in the bowl in our room, I went to get lunch to bring back to Rod in bed. I saw the Corsican woman we met at the monastery last night. She is a bit crazy, but cool... a 50 year old woman hitchhiking through Tibet alone, and climbing high elevation mountains for a year in Pakistan, Tibet, and Nepal. Right on!<br />My first Kailash kora is finished. I'm not buzzing, but I do feel different somehow. I feel more peaceful. Who knows, maybe I will see how this effects me as I pay attention over time. It was certainly a powerful journey around a very powerful mountain.<br /><br /><em>Journal entry 10/28</em> : We left Darchen before dawn and drove in the cold until sunrise (8:45 sunrise - we are so far west but China refuses to do the time zone thing) and to lunch in Paryang. I had to stop a Chinese man who was throwing rocks at a cornered dog! We continued on in the hot afternoon sun to the town of Saga. The car overheated once, and the dust was terrible, but the ride beautiful. We got to listen to two new tapes! (Our driver only played one tape the whole ride to Darchen... over and over) In Saga we went to an internet cafe, then to dinner (with a bottle of wine!). The coveted electric blanket was so hot all night, and Rod was sick and kicking a lot.<br /><br /><em>Journal entry 10/29</em> : We left Saga early with the intention of making it to Shigatse tonight. Rod slept in the backseat most of the morning. Had lunch in an unknown town. I asked where the bathroom was and they said, "behind that building", I went there, no toilet or pit. Just go wherever... I peed by a cow. Trouble at one check point, and several stops to let the overheating Land Cruiser cool down made us late. We stopped in Lhatse for the night. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2296/2149821200_3768fae2c6.jpg" border="0" /><br /><em>Journal entry 10/30</em> : Drove to Shigatse and I toured the Tashilhunpo Monastery, home of the Panchen Lama (at least traditionally- now he is kidnapped and held in Beijing). So cool! <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2042/1819958681_f48863c676.jpg" border="0" />Rod stayed in the restaurant and the driver washed the car... Yes! Less dust! We then drove back to Lhasa, arriving after dark. Good to be back, took a hot shower! The Kailash trip ended, very good. We got some dinner and felt like old hats in Lhasa, knew people, knew where things are, etc. After dinner we walked the kora around the Jokhang Temple, then climbed to bed. </p></div><br /><p>Many more photos - to see, click the photos link at the top right of the page, and go to the Kailash set!</p><p><br /> </p>Shelly Benoit and Rod Georgiuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07576379444307942020noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9072870512140165686.post-19441812917405342412007-10-15T21:27:00.000-07:002007-11-26T22:50:40.780-08:00LhasaLhasa: 10/14-20/2007<br />Tibet<br /><br />I complimented the young woman who works in the shop next to our guest house. Her English was perfect. How did she learn it so well? That's when she told us the most <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">extrodinary</span> story. And after what we have seen in Tibet, I am sure hers is one of a million similar stories. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2399/1812980980_d4476fcc3f.jpg" border="0" /> <div><br /><div></div><div>When she was in grade school, her parents pounced on an opportunity for their daughter to escape communist China. 13 Lamas (Lamas are like Tibetan Buddhist Priests), with the trust of worried parents, took a school class of children across the border to India to live in the refuge of safety around the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Dalai</span> Lama. She and her classmates traversed on foot, for 30 days, the highest passes of the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Himalaia</span>, camping under the stars. She said she was very tired; these kids would walk all day, then cook dinner and collapse into their bed rolls... for 30 days! Once in India, they received a good education, raised by the Lamas and Monks, and began working as young adults and sending money home to their parents. </div><br /><div></div><div>Soon however, each of the kids got frantic letters from their parents. The Chinese government discovered that they were missing, and threatened their parents and siblings if they didn't return to Tibet. So the kids came back to Lhasa to save their families. </div><br /><div></div><div>Now, this university educated 24 year old woman is trying to squeak out an existence in Lhasa, Tibet. Because she defected, the government will not allow her to hold a job. They forced her back, but she is forbidden to work! She is working under the table in a little store, speaking perfect English to tourists buying a coke or little souvenirs. And all of her classmates are in Lhasa too, doing the same thing. They have no future, at least not legally. </div><br /><div></div><div>It is amazing to me, China is slowly and systematically destroying the Tibetan people. Chinese are encouraged to move to Tibet and open businesses. Yet at the same time, Tibetans have a very hard time, jumping through endless hoops, starting a business, or owning/selling real estate in their own town. Most Tibetans can not get passports to travel to other countries, and sometimes even traveling to mainland China is forbidden. The government is making it extremely difficult for Tibetans to get advanced education, or to succeed financially. Stupidly, the Chinese government is sewing the seeds for rebellion and crime by preventing Tibetans from holding good jobs and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">denying</span> educated young people opportunity. From what we saw, the Chinese are isolating the Tibetans and keeping them impoverished while taking over their cities and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">controlling</span> their economy. Lhasa is now 75% Chinese! It is Tragic. FREE TIBET!<img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2040/1818743357_7c82612c95.jpg" border="0" /></div><br /><div></div><div>But there is hope, the Tibetans are a tough and resilient people. They have to be, living at 4500m on a dry and windy plateau. Fueling the government's frustration, they remain <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">extremely</span> religious, and keep a strong underground communication network. They continue their traditions and defiantly dress in their traditional clothes.<img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2040/1812015517_7957bb2e59.jpg" border="0" /></div><br /><div></div><div>One morning I woke up thinking that the hotel was on fire. I walked outside to find the dawn light of Lhasa blocked by a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">dense</span> cloud of sweet smelling smoke. <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Incense</span> is being burned, a lot of it! Around the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Jokhang</span> Temple, are huge stone <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">incense</span> burners, stuffed full of smoldering Juniper branches and sending thick <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">columns</span> of smoke into the air. This morning, all of the burners were pumping at full <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">capacity</span>. Later we noticed that most of the mountain peaks surrounding the city had plumbs of smoke rising from them... what is going on? With some careful questioning, we learned that today, the USA gave the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">Dalai</span> Lama the Congressional Gold Metal of Honor (Oct. 16, 2007)! <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2195/1819292726_564e49b3ec.jpg" border="0" /></div><br /><div></div><div>It was a little <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">embarrassing</span> that, as Americans, we did not know this. Of course, there was no media coverage of it available, and all <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">Internet</span> searches were blocked. But the Tibetans somehow knew, and because they can not gather, demonstrate, or express their happiness any open way, they celebrated with more subversive means. They burned an excessive amount of <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">incense</span> (really, the city was covered in smoke), those who owned businesses did not open that day, and most dressed in traditional clothes even if these were not their typical clothes. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2021/1818819815_58f60fac74.jpg" border="0" /></div><br /><div></div><div>In response, the police closed just about everything to tourists and locals alike. We wanted to walk up a sacred mountain just outside of town that day, but when we took the taxi to the trail head, we found it blocked by police who said it was "closed". When Rod (loudly) asked the policeman if it was closed because of the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">Dalai</span> Lama, the people on the street looked down and smirked as the policeman said "no". When we drove away the taxi driver nervously chuckled and said "yes, because Dalai Lama". We <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">couldn't</span> visit the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">Ramoche</span> Temple either... it was "closed" too. </div><br /><div></div><div>However, we did get to see some of the amazing sights of Lhasa. Of course we toured the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">Potala</span> Palace (accompanied by a 'guide', as required), which was beautiful and strange and thought provoking. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2195/1812015557_290b6719dd.jpg" border="0" />This palace, built in 7<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">th</span> century AD, was the seat of the Tibetan government and the winter residence of the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">Dalai</span> Lamas. For me, the most interesting part was the huge three <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">dimensional</span> golden mandalas, and the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">chorten</span> tombs of previous <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24">Dalai</span> Lamas. Many <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25">Tibetans</span> walk the '<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26">kora</span>' (circumnavigation route) around it all day, and many do the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27">kora</span> with full prostrations at each step. </div><div></div><br /><div>We visited the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28">Sera</span> monastery, about 5km North of Lhasa. Founded in 1419, became one of Lhasa's two great <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29">Gelugpa</span> monasteries. About 600 monks live and practice there now, down from the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30">original</span> population of 5000. A <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31">Tibetan</span> told us that pilgrims visit this <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32">monastery</span> with their children and ask for blessings. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2057/1812981054_bac0185d72.jpg" border="0" />Childhood problems as simple as sleeplessness or as serious as a terminal illness can be cured by a blessing here. Rod and I asked for, and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33">received</span>, a blessing for our journey to Mt <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_34">Kailash</span> from the Lama here. </div><br /><div></div><div>About 40km East of Lhasa is the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_35">Ganden</span> Monastery. We visited here, and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_36">received</span> a blessing for Mt <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_37">Kailash</span> also, before we left Lhasa. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_38">Ganden</span> was the first <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_39">Gelugpa</span> monastery, and is still the heart and soul of this sect. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2186/1818743157_946da24112.jpg" border="0" />We walked the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_40">kora</span> around the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_41">monastery</span> and walked to the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_42">stupa</span> on top of the mountain also. At the summit, I let prayer papers blow out of my hands by the strong wind. Each of the papers flew up and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_43">fluttering</span> down after a while except for the yellow one (symbolizing Earth). Amazingly this little paper flew up and fluttered, then was swept up high into the sky and out over the vast river valley. It was continued out and up until i could see it no longer. My <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_44">prayer</span> for Earth was sent to the sky. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2397/1819292742_e877aceeb0.jpg" border="0" /></div><br /><div></div><div>Lhasa is a most sacred city. It is so strongly a mystical place of pilgrimage and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_45">prayer</span>, and a place where old traditions are held onto <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_46">against</span> the harsh forces of change. The <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_47">Chinese</span> (and to be fair, the influence of tourism) have done much to turn Lhasa into another bustling, dirty, and loud <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_48">Chinese</span> city, but <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_49">luckily</span>, the strong faith and will of the Tibetan people continue to resist. But for how much longer? <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2285/1819292692_41875f055d.jpg" border="0" /> </div></div><br />[See more photos of Lhasa using our photos link at the top right of the page]Shelly Benoit and Rod Georgiuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07576379444307942020noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9072870512140165686.post-54685977277922242012007-10-10T17:36:00.000-07:002007-12-06T03:24:29.981-08:00Mt LonghushanLonghushan: 10/10/2007<br />China<br /><br /><p>Before heading out to our final sacred Taoist mountain of China, we stayed a couple days in Xi'an to enjoy the food and see the famous Terra Cotta Warriors. This amazing archaeological site was discovered in 1974 by some farmers digging a well. Now uncovered and reconstructed, the site displays 8,099 larger than life figures of warriors and horses. And, this is under half of the total painted terra cotta figures. The rest are still under ground! <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2124/1807536960_9b2847d331.jpg" border="0" />Each figure is unique, shaped after a real soldier in the First Qin Emperor's army. They were all buried to guard the Mausoleum of the Emperor. The figures vary in height according to their rank; the tallest being the Generals. The place is huge! <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2181/1807536970_d39ab5eb10.jpg" border="0" /></p><br />From Xi'an, we flew to Nanchang City, in the Jiangxi province. This city is famous for it's role in consolidating the power of the Communist Party. It is mostly classic ugly Communist-highrise architecture, but the peaceful Gan River (Gan Jiang) runs gracefully through it's center, and all sorts of great antique artwork can be found in it's shops. [We were a public security risk]<img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2190/1807536988_2e5f7de350.jpg" border="0" /><br />From there we caught the train to Yingtan, and a taxi to the main tourist entrance to Longhushan, which is now a "National Geopark of China". The place looks like a tropical Meteora; great rounded boulders poking through the plane. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2214/1807668256_724e3e44cb.jpg" border="0" /><br />Longhushan means "Dragon and Tiger Mountain". It is said that a gust of wind moans over the empty valley when a tiger growls. In the middle of the East Han Dynasty, the first Tian Shi (Taoist priest ), Zhang Daoling张道陵(AD 34-156), started to distill elixirs here. According to the record, when the elixirs were made, a dragon and a tiger were seen winding above the oven. The mountain was named after the celestial animals.<br /><br />This group of rocky spires are considered the cradle of formalized Taoism because Zhang Daoling created and practiced it here. [ Please read the intro to Taoist Mtns in China blog if you have not already ] The monks of Mount Longhushan led the Taoism schools in southern china, it became the centre of development of Chinese Taoism. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2133/1807536952_f2a06dafcb.jpg" border="0" /><br />Now, it is a centre of Chinese Tourism. We passed through the obligatory trinket and souvenir shops to the park gate, where we paid our first entrance fee. From there we were ushered to the boat dock where we got our first view of the dramatic landscape. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2015/1807607914_44e1f70848.jpg" border="0" />There were several men repairing longboats, and a desk where we paid our next fee for a boat ride up the river and to the various trailheads on our tourist map. We got boat tickets, and thought we would have a long boat to ourselves, but we were piled in with a Chinese tour group. Now, as mentioned in previous blogs, the Chinese have a different sense of appropriate volume. As we were polled up the quietly flowing river, in a small boat where normal voices could be heard easily, Rod and I almost pee'd our pants with what happened next. The tour guide stood up in the front of the boat, pulled out a <strong>megaphone</strong>, and began an extended natural history talk (in Chinese) at volume 11! It was too much!!<img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2151/1807607936_7d59fffeaa.jpg" border="0" /><br />When the long boat dropped us off, we walked up stream and across a bridge to the beginning of a series of trails shown on our map. We stratigerized about the best walking route to see all the major shrines and temples, and started up an empty road. Soon we arrived back at the river... a dead end. Here was a military outpost and the gates to a military base. No, I guess we can't walk through the trails shown on the tourist map (I wonder if they think no one will do any walking, tourists just ride the boats, so they can offer trails that don't exist?). But the soldier we talked to was really nice, and offered us a ride back to the boat dock on his old Chinese copy of Ural motorcycle, which is a Russian copy of a WWII BMW. I rode in the sidecar!<br /><br />We dutifully did not try to walk anywhere else, and got onto the next bamboo raft back down river. The bamboo raft dropped us off at a beach under the Cliff Tombs.<br /><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2070/1807607946_58828a8161.jpg" border="0" />High up on the cliff sides, the many caves were filled with wooden coffins and offerings. These tombs were used in the "Spring and Autumn Period(770-476 BC) and the Warring States Period(475-221 BC)". As is typical of major contemporary religious sites, what became known as a Taoist sacred site had already been sacred for the native religions of the area for a long time. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2120/1807668250_1cdb1b7dcd.jpg" border="0" /><br />From the tombs and fairae cliff (the fairae who could not be married), we walked up the Celestial City Track, paid another entrance fee, and up to the Temple on the mountain top. The Grand Supreme Purity Palace, built over the original site of Taoism creation, is considered the place where all gods received their official ranks. It was built in the East Han Dynasty. Just under this temple, on the sheer cliff sides, are several caves perched above a path carved in the rock. This is the path of realization and it passes the caves of enlightenment, where it is said that various incarnations attained enlightenment throughout Taoist history.<img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2233/1807668268_3f2cbc283d.jpg" border="0" /><br />I could imagine monks sitting in meditation in these caves high above the river and rice paddies. In the amazing late afternoon light, a power was emanating from this pathway as we walked along it and back down to the valley floor. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2022/1807668278_9278f3d619.jpg" border="0" />This is a hugely powerful spot, both in spirituality and historical importance. And once again, China has made it into a sight seeing spot for tourists, aggressively attempting to turn its religious significance into an oddity of the past. In fact, in the Chinese approved travel and tourist information, it is entitled "The best natural archaeological museum of China by Our Beautiful Motherland".<br /><br />Hmm... what can you do? Dragon and Tiger Mountain, LongHuShan, the end of our tour of the most sacred Taoist mountains of China. We got into a taxi at the bottom and headed back to Yingtan.Shelly Benoit and Rod Georgiuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07576379444307942020noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9072870512140165686.post-18580055398835559032007-10-04T17:32:00.000-07:002007-12-07T01:49:32.272-08:00Mt HuashanHuashan: 10/4-5/2007<br /><div>China<br /><br />[Check out the "Taoist Mtns of China Intro" blog-entry if you have not already]<br /><br />Throughout Taoist history, pilgrims have come to pay their respect to Huashan, or 'Flower Mountain'. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2238/1651078306_8c1b0a548e.jpg" border="0" />Chinese Emperors Tang Gaozhu and Tang Taizhong (Tang Dynasty) made famous journeys here. Taoists including Zhong Liquan, Lu Yan, Liu Chao, Wang Chuyi, Hao Datong, Tan Chuduan all once lived here. And, Chen Tuan, one of the founders of Taoism, spent 40 years on the mountain writing Taoist philosophy and reflections. The mountain is scattered with Temples and shrines, but at nothing near the density of precommunist time. Here and there you can spot a hermitage cave where a sage would sit and meditate, drink only spring water and eat gathered herbs, and live to be 500 years old (so they say). These caves are in the most difficult to reach places. Steps (little niches) carved into the vertical cliff faces climb up 10 to 30 meters, and there is a cave opening, or a long chain dangling from a little door high on a precipice. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2093/1649259589_ece484ef5b.jpg" border="0" />Interestingly, the princess Jinxian, the daughter of emperor Rui Zhong (Tang Dynasty), once came to Mount Hua to pursue Tao. I guess she lived in a cave, because afterward, emperor Tang Xuanzhong ordered the construction of Woman-Immortal Temple and Silver Cloud Monastery, making a specific space for women to study on the mountain. </div><br /><div></div><div>Our pilgrimage to the sacred flower mountain began with a flight to Xi'an city, Shaanxi Province. Xi'an, once named Chang'an, is the fabled beginning and end of the Silk Road. In those days, the city was thriving with emperors, courtesans, poets, monks, merchants and soldiers; a place where many of the world's great religions coexisted and Chinese culture reached an apogee of creativity and sophistication. Today, inside the ancient city walls, it is a stimulating mix of rich historical buildings, the bright neon lights of modern china , antique shops, art studios (called "factories"), and too many people. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2063/1649998666_8c3d2f8394.jpg" border="0" />Our favorite section of the city is the Muslim quarter, where remnants of the Silk Road past are clustered inside street vendors and honking motor carts. The best food in the city can be found here, by far!<img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2083/1649940040_06bd041025.jpg" border="0" /></div><div></div><br /><div>Unfortunately for us, we are here, and going to Huashan during the national holiday week. Many students and families are on vacation this week, and it seems like they are planning to do the same things we are. Everywhere we go, every restaurant, street, taxi stand, ticket office, coffee shop, everywhere is CROWDED with people.<br /></div><br /><div>We catch a train to Huayin City, 120 kilometers (about 75 miles) east from Xi'an City. We have to bump and push to get seats, but we do, and are soon bumping along the countryside. "E-Ex-Excuse Me" says a vary nervous and embarrassed young man. "We are 1st year students in university." OK, that's nice... I'm thinking. "Will you come and talk to us?" A group of 3 women giggle and make a spot for me. I spent most the ride talking to these students who were just <strong>so</strong> excited to meet a <strong>real live</strong> foreigner! Everyone took pictures.</div><br /><p>The next day we began our assent with a visit to the Yuquan Yuan (Jade Fountain) Temple at the base of the climb. In the morning grey, groups of men and women doing Tai Chi Chuan on its plaza. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2408/1650221284_f623844b6b.jpg" border="0" />The temple's gardens have the architectural style of the classical gardens in south China; with a pond in the center and several pavilions around it. Beside the 'Huixin Rock' are the precipitous 370 rock steps called 'Qianchi Zhuang'. These are considered to be the primary "breath-taking path" of Mt. Huashan. It is called this because when walking up it, the narrow sliver of sky above the high walls makes you feel like you are at the bottom of a well.<br /><br />Huashan is really a group of 5 rocky peaks high among the knife-blade ridges of the Qinling Mountains. Standing in a circle around the central granite dome, Huashan East, South, West, and North Peaks resemble a colossal lotus flower in full blossom. Thus it's name, Flower Mountain. </p>Rod and I begin the sweaty crowded climb, passing the various souvenir and food stands. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2077/1650173228_6cea21668b.jpg" border="0" />We buy red prayer sashes, and carry them with us to tie at the summits. The path is stairs, but toward the end, the stairs get steeper and there are chains to hold onto as you climb. The famous "ear touching wall", is a very narrow series of steep steps with a big chain. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2212/1650388456_cb6f28d8e1.jpg" border="0" />It's famed danger comes from (in my opinion) all the other climbers pushing their way up behind you and stumbling above you. When we finally reached the North Peak summit (1615m), Rod and I have had it with all the people and their lack of a sense of personal space. This peak is named "Clouds Stand" peak. The summit is a relatively flat peninsula of rock surrounded by cliffs on three sides, so it is classically thought of as a platform in the clouds (one you can stand on). <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2311/1650277186_0aad4e7a53.jpg" border="0" />We try to enjoy the summit, Rod ties a prayer on a tree there, and we decide to call it a day. We will come back tomorrow, hope there are less people, and summit the other peaks. We stand in an agonizingly disorganized 45 min long line to take the cable car down. Yes, here too is a cable car! Everyone in the line cutting and pushing; Rod getting belligerent and swearing at people; basically Hot Sweaty Stinky Loud Chaos (for 45 min!). The good old china HSSLC.<br /><br /><div>The next morning, Rod and I re-entered the HSSLC and waited in the ENORMOUS line to get the cable car up. It was awful. Then at the top, Rod just could no longer deal. He opted to retreat and headed back to the hotel. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2311/1649794105_40e09c65e2.jpg" border="0" />I bravely pushed on. I somehow got into turbo mode and charged my way through the crowds and up the Blue Dragon Range ridge. I was ruthless, climbing at about 1000 m/hr, passing and cutting people off... i don't feel good about it, it just happened. All the people - It was too much. </div><br /><div></div><div>And, luckily for me, once I passed Hongsheng Terrace and reached Jinsuo Pass the crowds were mostly behind me. I took the trail to the West Peak and was rewarded with very few other people and a light breeze! The trail climbed up to the first overlook... a breath taking 2000+ foot vertical drop to pine forest below. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2236/1650965106_39085ac623.jpg" border="0" />Then up the narrow ridge to the summit itself (2038m). On West Peak, or Lianhua Peak, is the Taois Cuiyun Palace. The rock before the temple looks like a lotus flower, hence the peak is named Lotus Flower Peak. There are another seven rocks beside Cuiyun Palace, and a big crack in one. This is said to be the place where Chenxiang, a filial young man, once ripped open the mountain to save his mother (The Heavenly Goddess San Sheng Mu). </div><br /><div></div><div align="left">I tied a prayer sash on the summit, and continued along the cliffside path to the Luoyan Peak, or South Peak (2160m). Before reaching the top, i saw a small path running along the side of the cliff with a chain. It looked like no one goes there. I looked and the path continued for about 2 meters, then disappeared, reappearing about a meter further along, and ending in small ledge (about 1 m square). Oooooo... it would be really cool to sit on that ledge... The part of the path that disappeared was short, and had small foot holes carved in the rock face and there was the big chain to hold onto. I went carefully along it and onto the nifty little ledge. I tied my prayer sash on the ledge, and then noticed the really cool thing... from the ledge, there was a vertical chain, with footholds carved in the rock along it, that lead up (about 10 m) to a hermit cave. I wanted to go up there <strong>so badly,</strong> but yes, a fall would be the end of me (1500 ft drop), and with no harness and no one knowing where i am i guess i shouldn't try... but it was so hard!!</div><br /><div></div><div>On the top of South Peak is a water pond with calligraphy inscriptions. To reach this summit and pond is regarded as reaching the peak of perfection. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2049/1650706022_ed2658b7e8.jpg" border="0" />Legend has it that wild geese returning from the south often land here, giving the name 'Landing Wild Geese Peak', or 'Dropping Goose Peak'. The Taoist temple on South Peak is called Baidi Temple or Jintian Palace and is considered the host temple of Deity Shaohao. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2120/1651036764_50914604e9.jpg" border="0" /></div><div></div><br /><div>I stopped for some lunch at the food stand in the temple (is there nothing sacred?) and had 'beef noodle'. The students I met in the train told me that "'Beef noodle' is Chinese favorite snack. They're delicious!". 'Beef noodle' is instant ramen noodles in a cardboard bowl with beef broth and plenty of MSG. Hmm... Yum!</div><br /><p>After my delicious lunch, i walked down South Peak and up to the top of East Peak (Chaoyand Peak). The views from here are spectacular! <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2255/1650251841_38fd3d941e.jpg" border="0" />And, I can see the tops of the row of heads walking on Blue Dragon Range ridge below. I tie my prayer, hang out on this summit (2100m) a while, and enjoy the afternoon sunlight through the twisted pine trees. Quartz dikes on the cliff face look shaped into the form of a giant palm print, reminding me of the "Facing Sun" Peak's story. A long time ago, on March 3rd of the Lunar Calendar, a torrential flood erupted, destroying the villages within the Huashan area. This disaster was caused by the Queen Mother of the West, who held her 'Flat Peach Carnival' celebration that year. She carelessly spilled a little jade wine down from paradise, causing a serious flood below. This news was quickly reported by Deity Shaohao to the Jade Emperor in Celestial Paradise. He gave a prompt order to Deity Juling to go down to tame the flood. When Deity Juling, full of vigor and vitality, descended from the clouds, he arrived at the precipitous cliff of East Peak. At the moment that he laid his left hand on one side (the dikes) and his right leg on the other, he ripped the mountain into two halves and immediately the flood rushed out and away.</p><p>I stop daydreaming and begin my way down. The route down had the steepest stairs/ladder with chain I ever walked on, and it was made more interesting because the crowds were closing in. I re-entered turbo mode and bee-lined down the mountain toward the cable car. My rapid decent was surprisingly interrupted by my name being called! Huh?! Across from me are a couple Rod and I met 2.5 weeks ago while climbing Taishan! These two are doing a bike trip across china and decided on a whim to walk up Huashan... on the same day, same time... small world for sure. </p><p>I blitz down to North Peak and connivingly cut 3/4 of the cable car line. OK, I'm learning! I make it back to the Hotel to meet Rod with time to spare. </p>Shelly Benoit and Rod Georgiuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07576379444307942020noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9072870512140165686.post-46891127277863643662007-09-25T20:47:00.000-07:002007-12-06T03:28:15.635-08:00Mt Taishan<p class="MsoNormal">Taishan: 9/25-26/2007<span style="font-size:+0;"><br /></span>China</p><p class="MsoNormal">[ Please read the intro to Taoist Mtns in China if you have not already ]</p><p class="MsoNormal">From the city of <?xml:namespace prefix = st1 /><st1:city st="on">Nanjing</st1:city>, we traveled by air (very cheap in <st1:country-region st="on">China</st1:country-region>, and much easier and cleaner than the train) to <st1:city st="on">Jinan</st1:city>, the capital of <st1:place st="on"><st1:placename st="on">Shandong</st1:placename> <st1:placetype st="on">Province</st1:placetype></st1:place>. From there we taxied to Tai'an where we stayed in the peaceful and clean Yuzuo Hotel (probably the best hotel we stayed in in <st1:country-region st="on">China</st1:country-region>), set inside the beautiful grounds of the <st1:place st="on"><st1:placename st="on">Dai</st1:placename> <st1:placetype st="on">Temple</st1:placetype></st1:place>. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2409/1629738763_c2d9018fb4.jpg" border="0" /><br />The morning of our ascent of Taishan, we went to breakfast at the hotel's buffet, but we limited ourselves to steamed buns and hot milk because other choices included insect cocoons in chili sauce, and pan fried scorpions... yikes! Interestingly, in <st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on">China</st1:place></st1:country-region> we have become very lethargic (I wonder if the MSG loaded food is the cause?), and we got a late start. It is too bad, because it is popular to be on the summit for sunrise. In ancient Chinese tradition, it was believed that the sun rose from Taishan.<br /><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2147/1630021445_b06659f39d.jpg" border="0" /><br />When the taxi dropped us off at the trailhead (the First Gate of Heaven), we walked with eyes popping at all the souvenir and prayer stands, up to the Guandi Temple (Guandi is the Taoist god of war). It is crowded and smoky, but also more mystical than anything we have seen in China so far. As we continue up the canyon, the rock walls and boulders are covered with calligraphic art dating from who knows how far back; all sorts of prayers and poems. It is like an outdoor Chinese calligraphy museum. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2009/1629738951_a22f3d2387.jpg" border="0" /><br />The mountain Taishan is deeply rooted in China's most ancient creation myth, the story of Pan Gu. In the beginning, all was chaos. Heaven and earth were swirling together. Pan Gu was born and started to separate the ground and the sky. Each day he grew taller; thus the sky grew higher and the earth grew thicker. After 18,000 years, the earth and sky were fully separated and Pan Gu died of exhaustion. His eyes became the sun and moon, his blood became the rivers, his sweat the rain. His head and limbs became five sacred peaks... Taishan is his head. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2088/1630021183_61f2f254d2.jpg" border="0" /><br />His head is 7.5 km of endless stone stairs. It is said that 6660 steps lead up to the Midway Gate to Heaven, but I didn't count. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2087/1629738823_99c137dfd6.jpg" border="0" />The climb is hot and uncomfortably sweaty. And, as we soon began to expect in China, it was stinky and very crowded with people. People who were extremely loud (you really wouldn't believe it), and often seen/heard hacking phlegm and spitting it anywhere.<br /><br />Only 5 of China's emperors ever climbed Tai Shan, although Emperor Qianlong of the Qing dynasty scaled it 11 times. (note- climbing it for an emperor means riding in a sedan chair up and having resting houses built for you as you go. ) Legend has it that when Confucius was on the summit he uttered the dictum "The world is small." And when Chairman Mao lumbered up, he declared "The east is Red."<br /><br />Along the way we visited and past many temples and shrines. Many of these were dedicated to the goddess Bixia, the Princess of the Azure Clouds. She is a powerful cult figure for the rural women of Shandong and beyond. We saw many little packs of grandmothers (it is said that if you climb Taishan, you will live to be 100) stumping their way up, stopping to pray at the shrines, and eagerly heading to the cluster of temples at the summit where they burn money and incense, praying for their progeny.<img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2235/1630021321_c900451833.jpg" border="0" /></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal">To reach the summit area, Rod and I walked hand in hand through the Archway to Immortality. We took the lock we carried up and put in onto the chain of locks at the temple there. By this time a thick mist had begun to gather. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2203/1629738877_23674761bd.jpg" border="0" />We passed through the South Gate to Heaven on our way to visit the Azure Clouds Temple, then followed an uncrowded, longer path up to the Jade Emperor Temple (1545m). Having a little isolation allowed our imaginations to peer through the mist and see the true nature of this ancient sacred summit.<img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2142/1630021281_76ca610cbe.jpg" border="0" /></p><p class="MsoNormal">The Jade Emperor Temple is the place where Imperial sacrifices to heaven and earth were offered (don't know what was sacrificed... animals probably... and people?). <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2362/1630021243_8e99c2fd66.jpg" border="0" />Along the stone pathway to it, the steep cliffs dropped off into the mist below us, the deciduous trees were beginning to show orange and red, and the smell of wild flowering marijuana filled our noses. After visiting the temple, we sat on the rocks outside and made our offering to Bixia. After some rest and people watching, we walked back down to the Archway to Immortality. There we got a yummy snack of thin flat bread, spread with plum sauce, and wrapped around a green onion, before heading to the cable car (!) to ride down through the clouds. </p>Shelly Benoit and Rod Georgiuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07576379444307942020noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9072870512140165686.post-80407584492755572242007-09-23T20:47:00.000-07:002008-01-10T11:14:04.753-08:00Mt Maoshan<div><div>Mao Shan: 9/23/2007 (Autumn Equinox)<br />China<br /><br />[ Please read the intro to Taoist Mtns in China if you have not already ]<br /><br /><a name="23"></a>After a few days in Shanghai, we caught a train to the city of Nanjing, capital of the Jiangsu Province. We were startled by the overall size of every city in China, even the little towns are big cities with skyscrapers and pollution. We got a shabby room in a big hotel on a big street in the big city. After a yummy dinner on a crowded pedestrian-only street, lined with restaurants and snack stands, we found a taxi to take us to Maoshan the next morning.<br /><br />The taxi driver was absolutely on time, and very friendly, despite that he did not speak a word of English, and we knew only one word in Chinese (hello). We drove East out of town through some agricultural land to the village at the base of Maoshan. We stopped at an odd communist memorial to some violent man on a horse. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2332/2179475316_d4ec6a5c0a.jpg" border="0" />As we climbed up, the police/military men who sold us the tickets to see the memorial set off a racket of fireworks at the bottom. After this strange and somewhat disturbing visit, the taxi driver took us on to the real Maoshan starting point, a temple on the opposite side of the mountain.<img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2373/2178687823_2acde6dda2.jpg" border="0" /><br />Maoshan is the "first land of blessing", and the "eighth world of caves" for Taoism. It has been a Taoist center since the beginning of formal Taoism during the end of the Han Dynasty (206 BC-AD 220). The mountain used to be covered with temples, hermitage sites, and shrines, but much was destroyed and some has since been rebuilt. Giuliano Bertueciolo, an Italian Academic who studied Taoism, visited Maoshan in 1974 studying its critical role in the history of Taoism. He published an article "the Memory of Mt. Maoshan" in the Journal of Oriental Studies describing the prosperity and history of the Temples on Maoshan. In 1985, he returned to Maoshan and published another article depicting the decline of Maoshan and Taoism during China's Cultural Revolution.<br /><br />The Temple at the bottom of the pilgrimage path has been newly rebuilt (by the Cable Car Company!), and felt rather plastic, even Disneyland-ish. Like each of the sacred mountains we visited in China, it was almost more oriented toward the Chinese tourist, rather than to anyone coming for religious or spiritual purpose. We visited the temple, then started up the mountain on foot (we did not take the cable car).<br /><br />The trail through the dense underbrush was hot, humid, and devoid of other hikers. We were just getting uncomfortably sweaty when the trail forked. On the left was the trail down to the caves! Despite the purpose of going up, we had to go down... it got spooky. We passed a few shrines, and then a big, new, statue of an Ox coming out of a cave stopped us. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2111/2179473332_1022c37ef8.jpg" border="0" />Whatever had been the 8th world of caves was now more like the "It's a small world after all" ride. We headed back up to the main trail.<br /><br />Soon, we noticed lines of embedded pebbles in the cement pathway. Ah, yes, these are the various line combinations that make up the I Ching or "Book of Changes", the ancient Chinese oracle. We followed the path of the I Ching until it brought us to another Temple. This one was the most religiously genuine place on the mountain. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2412/2179465118_b0b391f8c2.jpg" border="0" />A monk greeted us at the door, and led us in to where we bowed as he struck a musical bowl. Then he walked us through the building to some beautiful gardens and pond where the trail to the summit continued.<br /><br />Just up from the temple, is a parking lot where everyone else drives to to begin the walk. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2128/2179467756_ede582900b.jpg" border="0" />We walked through and up a long set of stairs to another temple, stopping to examine a set of sculptures; the animals of the Chinese zodiac. At this temple, a group of Taoist monks were playing traditional music and singing.<img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2076/2178699381_71d6cd0159.jpg" border="0" /><br />After this, the mountain trail was mostly stone stairs. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2300/2179463224_7c926a890a.jpg" border="0" />It was interrupted by a newly built, and horrible, wax museum of various forms of torture and demons. We practically ran through it to get to the trail again. The stone steps became wooden planks on wobbly chains until we arrived at a small pagoda. Here two people were playing cards and smoking cigarettes and selling small heart shaped locks for couples or family to lock onto the chains. We bought one, engraved "R+S", and locked it on.<img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2386/2178696363_0e6d6a9d15.jpg" border="0" /><br />At the summit was another temple, but we did not go into it. We sat in another small pagoda and watched other tourists and people at the souvenir stands through the swirling mountaintop mist.<br /><br />During this day, our first sacred mountain climb in China, I only caught glimpses of the real history and power of this place. I want to give this "first land of blessing" a blessing. I hope that the power of this historical sacred site can be recovered from the anti-religious drape of Communist China. Blessings to Maoshan.</div></div>Shelly Benoit and Rod Georgiuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07576379444307942020noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9072870512140165686.post-54368877094394296152007-09-20T18:18:00.000-07:002008-01-10T11:18:51.152-08:00Taoist Mtns of China - IntroSacred Taoist Mountains: 9/19/2007 - 10/13/2007<br /><br />China<br /><br />As a focus for sacred mountains in China (there are many of them), we put our efforts into the Taoist mountains. Taoism (Tao, or "the way") is one of the three historical religious systems of China; Confucianism, Buddhism, and Taoism. It originated in China from the philosophical system of Lao-tse老子(604?-531 BC). Who's written work, the Da De Jing (the Way of Power; written often as Tao De Ching) is its main doctrine. It has 81 chapters dealing with many topics, like "Nature", "Hypocrisy", "Indulgence", and "Harmony" for example. An excerpt from the chapter "Experience" follows:<br /><a name="06"><br />"Experience is a riverbed,<br />Its source hidden, forever flowing:<br />Its entrance, the root of the world,<br />The Way moves within it:<br />Draw upon it; it will not run dry."</a><br /><br />And from the chapter "Beneath Abstraction":<br /><br /><a name="25">"The mother of nature.<br />It has no name, but I call it "the Way";<br />It has no limit, but I call it "limitless".<br /><br />Being limitless, it flows away forever;<br />Flowing away forever, it returns to my self:<br /><br />The Way is limitless,<br />So nature is limitless,<br />So the world is limitless,<br />And so I am limitless."<br /><br /></a>The ideas in the Da De Jing came into a formal religious form around the 2nd century AD, through the founding work of Zhang Daoling张道陵(AD 34-156). By the 14th century AD, Taoism had been divided into many sects. It developed into two main philosophies: Quanzhen Tao, emphasizing self-cultivation to attain immortality or enlightenment, and Zhengyi Tao, which involves beliefs in charms and spells.<br /><br /><a name="06"></a><a name="25"></a>After some research, we concluded that the mountains China officially claims as "The Five Taoist Mountains of China" are not the ones most worthy of focus. Writing in <i>Pilgrims and Sacred Sites in China</i>, John Lagerwey comments: "A note on what is meant by "Taoist mountain" is perhaps in order here. It is traditional to regard the Five Peaks (wu-yueh) as Taoist, in contrast with the "four most famous (Buddhist) mountains" (ssu-ta ming shan). While both history and cosmology can be called on to justify this identification of the Five Peaks with Taoism, these mountains already constituted a distinct group in the Former Han dynasty before Taoism had taken on an organized ecclesiastical form, and it is only from the late sixth century on that Taoists made a concerted effort to claim these mountains as theirs. The Taoists were never entirely successful in pressing this claim, and of the five only Hua Shan and T'ai Shan, albeit in a very different manner, play a significant and ongoing role in Taoist religious history. Perhaps even more to the point, even these two mountains are nowhere near as important to Taoist history as are such mountains as Mao Shan and LungHu Shan, centers, respectively, of Shang-ch'ing and Cheng-i Taoism. Together with Ko-tsao Shan (in Kiangsi), the ordination center of Ling-pao Taoism, these mountains constituted the "tripod" on which officially recognized forms of Taoism rested from the early twelfth century on."<br /><br />So, in our exploration of Taoist sacred mountains in china, we will visit and climb four (it is interesting, the Chinese phrase for pilgrimage - <i>ch' ao-shan chin-hsiang</i> - means 'paying one's respect to a mountain'): Mao Shan, T'ai Shan, Hua Shan, and LungHu Shan.Shelly Benoit and Rod Georgiuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07576379444307942020noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9072870512140165686.post-82702883251069667772007-09-19T15:14:00.000-07:002008-01-10T11:19:19.641-08:00Blogging in ChinaMy apologies folks...<br />We are in China until Nov 4th, and somehow, viewing this blog and accessing the photos are blocked to me. I am publishing the text still (at least i think it's working), but the photos will have to wait. Please come back to see!Shelly Benoit and Rod Georgiuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07576379444307942020noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9072870512140165686.post-23265030847146109542007-09-12T20:45:00.000-07:002009-04-05T12:41:16.248-07:00Mt Dewa Sanzen<div><div><div>Dewa Sanzen: 9/12-13/2007</div>Mt Haguro, Mt Gassan, Mt Yodono<br /><div>Japan<br /></div><br />Japan has a rich history of mountain worship, one intertwined with later spiritual ideas that came into the area. Many ideas of Shinto, the native beliefs of Japan, were mixed with Buddhism when it arrived. A major event in this, are the Ideas of Prince Hachico. He believed that Buddha had come to Japan in the forms of Shinto Deities. And many of these deities were/are mountains. The practice of Shugendo Buddhism developed, let by the Yamabushi. Yamabushi literally means, "one who lies in the mountains". These devoted mountain ascetics practice severe austerities in search of personal transformation and supernatural power.<br /><br /><p>In 7th century, the imperial Prince Hachiko renounced his title and position, took the name Kokai, and became a wandering mountain hermit. While on a beach, he saw an enormous black bird with three legs who led him first to Mt Haguro, and then to the other peaks of the Dewa Sanzen. Kokai stayed the rest of his life upon Haguro-san, where his imperial grave is maintained to this day. Haguro-san is the seat of one of the two main Shugendo orders. On the summit are a massive and beautiful temple, <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2081/2178284603_5e04851f60.jpg" border="0" />a great bell, and a sematary, among other things, and along the path up are many shrines and standing stones. </p>The three sacred mountains that make up the Dewa Sanzan, in the Yamagata prefecture of northern Honshu, are Haguro San (419 m), Gassan (1980m), and Yudono san (1504 m).<br /><br /><div>The traditional foot path to the summit of Haguro san passes through forest of ancient cedars and cryptomerias and ascending 2446 stone steps. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2002/2179051768_a34d244617.jpg" border="0" />On the top is the shrine of Gassai-den which houses the deities of the tree mountains: Tsukiyomi-no-Mikoto, Oyamatsumi-no-Mikoto, and Ideha-no-Mikoto. The deity of Yudono lives, not in a building, but in a hot water fall. Pilgrims take off their shoes and bathe in the sacred water.</div><br />It is said that white clad pilgrims with wooden staffs, sandals, and straw hats can be seen climbing these mountains. And, they say you can occasionally come across a Yamabushi, with conch shell, check jacket, and white pantaloons, sitting under icy waterfall or doing other exercises intended to train both body and spirit, but we didn't see any of this. We did see some old ladies carrying wooden staffs with flags on the top, but that is as far as it went. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2280/2178255591_f8de9f1a50.jpg" border="0" /><br />From the town of Tsuruoka, in the Yamagata-Ken prefecture, we caught a morning bus to the base of Haguro-san. We had a cup of tea, then passed through the first Torii and into the peaceful forest staircase. Beautiful old Cedar trees lined the granite steps up the slope. We passed a waterfall, and stopped to pour the cold water over our heads, before continuing up.<img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2387/2179041022_5b92c099a5.jpg" border="0" /> Soon we came to the Go-Jyu-No-To, a wooden five-storied pagoda built in 931 to 937 AD. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2299/2178251855_d901110383.jpg" border="0" />Starting to get used to the idea of climbing stairs (so many more to go!), we kept moving through the forest. We (well, I, really) couldn't help but take a short detour to visit the Minami-Dani (southern valley), the site of a temple built in 1662. Here, the famous haiku poet, Matsuo Basho, stayed while climbing Haguro-san and wrote several haiku. About Minami-Dani, he wrote:<br />So holy a place<br />The snow itself is scented<br />At southern valley<br /><br />Before reaching the summit (414m), we stopped for green tea, and some weird sweet rice goop, at a small tea house on the trail. At the summit, we were awed by the peaceful elegance of the thatched roofed Sanjin Gosaiden. This shrine joins together the three Dewa Sanzen dieties. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2035/2179019926_b0abcffdac.jpg" border="0" />It is a magnificent structure; the 2.1m thick thatched roof supported by a wooden structure is one of a kind. Also on the summit is a monastery, the Kotakuji Temple, a huge bell (from 1275), various other structures, and a very interesting graveyard. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2233/2178277997_c97991eaed.jpg" border="0" />We explored the summit area before walking down a bit to our lodging, the Saikan. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2317/2179066566_709baf8d34.jpg" border="0" />This building used to be a temple called Kozoin, where priests held divine service. Now it is used to provide pilgrims to Dewa Sanzan with accommodation and meals. We were shown our room, a simple grass mat floor room with a low table for tea, and two futon mats on the floor. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2325/2179022350_9899a74a48.jpg" border="0" />Our meals there were great, we sat on the floor and were served traditional Japanese food on low tables by the monks who lived there.<br /><br />The next morning, after an early morning walk and a great breakfast, we caught a taxi to the trail head of Gas-san. Gas-san is the highest peak of the Dewa Sanzen, 1984m. It is worshiped as a mountain where our ancestors sleep, and a mountain of fertility that brings rich waters. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2222/2179031126_c6779b8c6d.jpg" border="0" />This hike is not stairs, it is a beautiful trail through brush, scattered with peaceful ponds. At the summit is the Gas-san Jinja shrine. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2359/2179028680_631605313e.jpg" border="0" />To enter the shrine we had to be purified. We had to bow our heads before the Priest for a blessing, then rub our shoulders, arms, body, legs and feet with sacred paper. Then we dropped the paper in a fountain. We visited the shrine in a foggy mist, then continued down the other side of the mountain toward Yudono-san.<br /><div></div><br />We reached the summit of Yudono-san (1504), and continued down the trail until it became a slippery stream bed. Here a series of ladders and chains helped us descend the final stretch to the Yudono-san Jinja. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2039/2178294847_eec32cd997.jpg" border="0" />Again here, i was blessed and purified with sacred paper, then instructed to take my shoes off and follow the priest through the shrine. In front of me was a huge orange rock with a hot (and i mean HOT) spring bubbling from pools at it's top. The whole rock was continuously lapped by water from the spring. I am guessing that the rock was formed from precipitates as the hot mineral water bubbled up and over. The rock itself is said to be an embodied deity. The monk told me to walk, clockwise, up the side of the rock, over it's top and back down. The hot water burned my feet as i walked the circle and tried not to slip. At the bottom, the monk rinsed my feet with more of the water, then let me out. Yudono-san Jinja has the strictest rituals of the three mountains.<br /><br />When I came out of the shrine, Rod was getting frantic... we were late for the last bus back to Tsuruoka. We hiked the last part of the trail to where the parking lot is, and found that yes, we did miss the last bus. What are we going to do?<br /><br />Presently, the monks from the shrine appear, they have closed up the shrine gate, and are going to drive home. We were so thankful when one of the monks offered us a ride back to the city. We piled into the back of his tiny blue Rav4, and enjoyed talking about mountain biking and listening to Japanese hip-hop the whole ride back. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2295/2179418352_cf74c541eb.jpg" border="0" />-------<br />That night we stopped in a sushi bar for dinner. Everyone in the bar was so excited to meet some foreigners and practice their English, that pretty soon the whole place was buying sake for each other and toasting the Dewa Sanzen. When we left, we had to shake hands with each person in the restaurant, including the couple who owns it. </div></div>Shelly Benoit and Rod Georgiuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07576379444307942020noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9072870512140165686.post-57673526487007202852007-09-09T20:44:00.000-07:002008-01-10T10:33:18.897-08:00Mt FujiMt Fuji: 9/8-9/2007<br />Japan<br /><br />Before leaving the states for this expedition, I was talking with my Akido sensei, Yoshi (he is from Japan) about going to Japan. I told him I planned to climb Mt Fuji. He looked at me in astonishment and reprimand... "Why? Fuji-san is a most sacred mountain. The most sacred place. How could you put your feet on it?"<br /><br /><p><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2372/2178854686_c512f7c366.jpg" border="0" /><br />"Hmm... Shelly," I thought, "you better have a good answer to this question before you go to that mountain." When I thought about it more, I realized that most people, when talking about climbing a mountain, come from the point of view of "conquering the mountain", or "overcoming the obstacle", or other testosterone driven points of view. I certainly don't think of climbing a mountain in that way. It is much more like a dance or training, I get to go to the summit if the mountain lets me, if the mountain thinks that my heart and intention is true, it will permit me to reach its summit. And if I am lucky, it may give me teachings, the lessons I need to learn, along the way. One thing I know for certain is that I am absolutely nothing when related to the power of a mountain. Especially one as powerful as Fuji-san. It is like training with Yoshi sensei, he may permit me to throw or pin him, to teach me the lesson. Yet we both know that I am only a novice, and nothing compared to him. Before climbing any peak, I bow to the mountain, introducing myself, that I am coming in true humility, that I am asking the mountain for teachings, and thanking the mountain for the opportunity to practice with it. If I come with humble intention, I can only put my feet on Fuji-san if it permits me to do so. And if it does, I am thankful for the teaching.<br /><br />We arrived in Tokyo after a 20 hour layover in Bangkok. We got ourselves organized, and went to the bus station the next day to get tickets to Fuji Go-ko, on the north side of Mt Fuji. At the station, they informed us that the bus was canceled due to an incoming Typhoon. Stuck in a Tokyo Typhoon! <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2273/2178870320_760385257b.jpg" border="0" />We treated ourselves to a night in the Hyatt hotel and watched the trees blow and tear, the water gust in sheets across the streets below, from a room in the 27th floor. It was very cool!</p><p>The next day we were able to get the bus, and spent the night in Kawaguchi-ko. We headed to the town of Fuji-Yoshida in the morning and began our traditional assent of the mountain by first walking under the Torii (gate arch) in the middle of town that designates the entrance to the spiritual world from the physical world. Then we walked through another Torii and along the towering cryptomeria trees, peppered with old stone lanterns, <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2368/2178865380_48a10cb4a9.jpg" border="0" />to the Sengen-jinja shrine. It is traditional to climb Fuji-san from the bottom, at the Sengen-jinja shrine, and up the Yoshidaguchi trail. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2347/2178055857_9557edf955.jpg" border="0" />We paid homage to the gods at the shrine, then began the 19 km assent. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2061/2178874730_bdc691bc1c.jpg" border="0" />Yoshidaguchi trail is the oldest path up the mountain. We passed through lush forests that we had almost entirely to ourselves (most people take the bus to the Kawaguchi-ko 5th station, and start there) . We passed Nakanochaya, an ancient site marked by carved stones left by previous climbers/pilgrims. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2070/2178886368_0b116eb350.jpg" border="0" />We walked through the Torii, with monkeys on either side, that marks the formal entrance to the sacred area of the mountain. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2086/2178989818_5877723934.jpg" border="0" />Then past the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd stations to the Nyonin Tenjo (women's holy ground) which until 1832 was as far up as women were allowed to go. On we went until we arrived at the 5th station hut on the Yoshidaguchi trail (2305 m). We had reserved space in the hut, so when we arrived, we were warmly greeted, shown our bed space, then washed up before being served dinner. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2119/2178117149_6403a97af0.jpg" border="0" /><br />Before bed we admired some cool photos on the walls of Japanese mountaineers climbing Fuji-san in the winter. The mountain's 35-40 degree constant angle would make a fine 5000 vertical foot ski decent from the summit. One day we should come back with skis!<br /><br />The next morning, at 3:30 am, we scarfed down some rice balls they had left us for breakfast (one with salmon inside!), drank a cup of green tea, and started up the mountain trail. The trail was very quiet until we reached the intersection with the trail coming from the Kawaguchi-ko 5th station. And it was still relatively uncrowded as we passed the 6th, and maybe 7th, stations.<img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2119/2178928922_e04232e43e.jpg" border="0" /> We got a bit confused as to which of the seemingly continuous string of buildings, cafes, and hotels, was officially which station.<br /><br />We paused to watch a golden sunrise over the low clouds, hills, and lakes East Fuji-san. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2114/2178121571_c2413635ff.jpg" border="0" />Later, as our trail started to fill with other climbers, we noticed the decent trail absolutely crowed with climbers who were at the summit for sunrise. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2083/2178918088_dc23323e5b.jpg" border="0" />Around the same time, a thick fog began to accumulate around the summit. When we walked under a small Torii,<img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2420/2178128805_2a21389f41.jpg" border="0" /> and up to a plateau with cafes selling hot tea, we thought we were at station 8. We took a rest, put on our cold weather gear (we were inside a cold blowing cloud by this time), and asked a group of climbers where the trail continuing to the summit was. They said "this IS the summit!" (oops- we didn't even know that we made it to the top :}) . It took 3.5 hours to climb the 1500 m from 5th station.<br /><br />We walked over to the Torii at the 9th station (that is the summit station), and took the obligatory summit photos. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2301/2178925862_a2172e5e19.jpg" border="0" />We then continued on, to circumnavigate the summit cone ridge clockwise. We stopped at the weather station, which is the true highest point (3776m/12,388ft), and continued to a nice rounded open area were we paused to rest and reflect.<br /><br />This summit has seen many wise and clear people. According to early Shugendo myths, the mountain was first climbed by the wizard/sage En No Gyoja around 700 AD. And from the 15th century onward it became a popular pilgrimage destination. They say that this crater is the home of the fire goddess, the dwelling of the Shinto goddess of flowing trees, and the abode of Dainichi Nyorai (the Buddha of all-illuminating wisdom).<br /><br />As we sat there, magically, the clouds suddenly opened up. We basked thankfully in some warm rays before completing the circumnavigation and heading down. The decent route was hellish; just a long set of steep gravel switchback, switchback, switchback, switchbacks. Our knees were aching by the time we made it back to the 5th station hut where we had left our sleeping bags and toothbrushes. We had a snack there, and asked the hut owner, "how far is the bus down to Fuji-Yoshida?". And he said, "20 meters". Since our bus, the last one, left at 3:30, we thought we would leave the hut around 3:15, with plenty of time to spare. We settled down on the grass mat floor to watch a marathon race on TV. The owner kept reminding us what time the bus left, getting more nervous each time. We kept looking at each other thinking, "what's the big deal? We have plenty of time." When finally at 3:15, he grabs our bags and motions us to follow him to his jeep. We get in, not quite sure why we have to drive the 20 meters to the bus pick up, but we kept driving and driving. Soon, we arrived at the bus with only a couple minutes to spare. It turns out that he was telling us 20 minutes, not 20 meters! Ooops.<br /><br />That night we went to a small local Izakaya (the Japanese equivalent of a Pub) for dinner. The couple who owned and ran it were so excited to have some foreigners there, and we were so incapable of telling them in Japaneese what we wanted to eat, that they called their daughter and her husband (who speaks English) to come and join us for dinner. We ate the specialties of the house and drank plenty of sake to the great Fuji-san.<img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2089/2178114367_e83cd9b878.jpg" border="0" /></p>Shelly Benoit and Rod Georgiuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07576379444307942020noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9072870512140165686.post-62226994513599174802007-08-23T17:28:00.000-07:002007-11-06T03:51:39.714-08:00Mt BelukhaMt Belukha (Uch Sumer): 8/19-27/2007<br />Kazakhstan<br /><br />A snowy pinnacle pointing into the sky, Mt Belukha is Siberia's and the Altai Mountains' highest peak. More importantly, it is, and has been for millennium, a focus of Buddhist and Burkhanist spirituality.<br /><p><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1079/1290824648_7039f31cfd.jpg" border="0" />Traditionally called Uch Sumer, meaning 3 peaks, it goes by many names among different Altaian and Kazakh tribes. Archaeologist and some scholars of Buddhist history and philosophy believe that Belukha may be Sumeru, the Central Asian mountain in Buddhist belief that is the center of Shambala (Shangri-la )... where only the spiritually advanced may enter. Belukha is also the headwaters of the sacred Katun River. There are shrines, burial sites, petroglyphs, and standing stones scattered all around the mountain. </p><p>The Altai mountains are home to the semi nomadic Altai people, and to a renowned diversity of flora and fauna. The endangered Snow Leopard and Argali Mountain Sheep populations have retreated into the safety of these mountains. The Altai people, or Altaians, are closely related to Mongolians and are considered the original Turkic people. They continue to practice Shamanism, Buddhism, and Burkhanism (or Ak Jang, the “white faith”). Burkhanists revere totem animals (argali, wolf, leopard) and totem flowers. They use throat singing at gatherings and in in fire ceremonies. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1327/1293488152_6c3336475d.jpg" border="0" /><br />Shambala, as legend has it, is a mystical kingdom hidden somewhere beyond the snowy peaks of the Himalaya. The physical place is said to be in Central Asia, north west of Tibet; a valley in southern Siberia. The name means “place of peace/tranquility/happiness”. It is a “pure land” where all citizens are enlightened. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1126/1292542851_08517d82d1.jpg" border="0" />The King of Shambala requested that the Kalachakra tantra be written and taught to other peoples and the Shakyamuni Buddha did this. They say the Kalachakra tantra is still at Shambala; it is a 5 chapter writing that teaches philosophy, practice, and path to attain buddhahood. The name Kalachakra can mean “time-wheel” or “time-cycles”. It is integral to the Tibetan Buddhist tradition. Shambala is mentioned in texts that predate Tibetan Buddhism in Western Tibet.<br /><br />As with many ideas in the Kalachakra Tantra, Shambhala is said to have “outer”, “inner”, and “alternate” meaning. The Outer meaning is a physical place, where only people with appropriate Karma can reach. Inner meaning is a pure land that represents itself in your own body and mind. And alternative is a pure land represented in the practice of meditation.<br /><br />John, Ahat, and Aslan had the 4-Runner ready to load at 7am in front of the hotel in Ust-Kamenogorsk. We drove 10 hours to the farthest eastern and northern corner of Kazakhstan. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1304/1292425853_f4332635ef.jpg" border="0" />After camping by a lake outside of Rhamani, we started toward Belukha on horse back. We were supposed to leave at 9 am, and go all the way to the “low camp” cabin. It took a bewildering amount of time to sort out the horses (and payment for the horses), so we did not leave until 2 pm. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1261/1292425945_966e8cceb5.jpg" border="0" />Four people with all our climbing gear, on four horses. Needless to say, we stopped for the night at a half-way camp... next to the yurt where the horse man lives (hmm...).<br /><br />The next day we sorely clambered back onto our horses and continued to low camp. The flowers and plants in this area are amazing! Such diversity, and so abundant. Interestingly, wild cannabis (yup, wild flowering marijuana) was growing everywhere. The horses LOVED to eat it. My horse, Sultan, really loved it. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1093/1293134396_2f4183f1e0.jpg" border="0" />During the ride, I am wondering if after 8.5 hours on horse back, I will even be able to walk, let alone climb this difficult mountain.<br /><br />As we climbed up the final steep section into the high valley under the mountain, a raging waterfall acted like a gate into a wholly different feeling place. Above the falls, it felt more magical, strong energy, there was definitely a sense of power emanating from the place. And just there at the top of the falls was the strangest gnarled amazingly old tree, unlike any other tree... the gate keeper. We clomped along past the tree to the low camp cabin. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1436/1292542825_7472011e2e.jpg" border="0" /><br />After stoking the wood stove, setting up our beds, and putting out our wet stuff to dry (did i mention it has been raining for two days), I walked back to the old tree. During meditation at the base of the tree, i was amazed to experience the feeling of flow through my solar plexus area with each breath. Energy coming from the tree, through my solar plexus, and outward in a giant cone shape, up the valley toward the mountain, but not reaching it. It felt really good. I have never experienced anything like this before. It was only after getting back to the city that i had the chance to look into this solar plexus thing... i was pretty sure this is one of the chakras on the body, but that is the extent of it. As far as i can find, the solar plexus chakra, or Manipura/Nabhi, is the place of transition from simple or base to complex emotion, energy, and assimilation. It is the place of developing a sense of self through entering spiritual adulthood, power, self esteem, and vitality. It is associated with the fire element, the color yellow, and the lotus flower with 10 petals. It's primary functions are will, determination, assertion, personal power, laughter, joy, anger, and sight. By projecting power through my solar plexus, toward the mountain, it was almost like the tree was gently examining my spiritual adulthood to see if i was developed enough to enter Shambala. Since my cone did not reach the top of the valley, or the mountain, my guess is no, i was not found to be developed enough and could not enter the pure land. But it was not a negative rejection, it felt like a gift.<br /><br />The next day, we had a brief moment of blue sky, and could finally see the top of the elusive mountain. Beautiful white pyramids. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1133/1290824640_aad08eea44.jpg" border="0" />We set out up the valley, walking along a ridge covered with delicious blueberries, then over the endless rocky moraines onto the endless talus covered glacier. After forever, we got to the top of the glacier, the base of the proposed climbing route. </p><p>I say proposed climbing route because the route the 'guide' wanted to climb was almost suicide... a serac gnarled glacier with ice fall certain. At the top of the 12 pitch long, narrow gully of climbable terrain, sat a huge steep-sided bowl of snow, loaded and ready to release into it's only outlet, the route. All of this on top of the actual climbing. Most of the route was fine and had good ice. The problem was two gaping crevasses that extended horizontally across the whole glacier. The 'guide' intended to cross them by jumping (up hill) over them... yeah right. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1141/1290824660_74f4309d97.jpg" border="0" /><br />I proposed another route, climbing up a less steep couloir on the other side of a small peak. Turns out this is the intended decent route, and easier (and much safer). We decided to climb this route the next morning. We woke up at 3:30 am and packed our stuff up for a night half way up the mountain. When we got part way up the glacier, not yet to the base of our climb, the weather got bad. Freezing rain sprinkles and wind, and looming dark clouds in the distance. We decided to turn around and try again tomorrow.<br /><br />It rained all day. In the afternoon the avalanches started. Loud, scary rumblings of ice and rock fall could be heard from the original route glacier all afternoon. Thank god we did not climb that route! We sat imagining being roped in part way up that glacier getting pummeled with falling blocks of ice. It made us feel better that we did not hear or see anything from the couloir route we will climb. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1168/1289990177_3e1808023b.jpg" border="0" />The next morning it was still raining, but clearing up. The snow on the mountain was all wet and loaded, and avalanches were still frequent. We used the satellite phone to call the local mountain rescue and weather info. As expected, they said that the snow was very unstable, especially the top 1000 m because of the wet precipitation and strong winds the day before. We only had two weather days scheduled into our plan, and we had already used them (one the first day, not making it to low camp, and one yesterday). So, stumped again in Kazakhstan, we turned around. John and Ahat went back to the low camp, while Rod and I decided to camp at a beautiful pond at the bottom of the glacier. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1015/1289990135_3467362904.jpg" border="0" /><br />On the way back to low camp the following day, we snacked on wild blueberries and skipped stones in the river. This place is so beautiful; the flowers and herbs, the unique trees, the dramatic mountains, the light. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1084/1293488060_9403fd1aa4.jpg" border="0" />From low camp, we walked to the horse guy's yurt, then took horses back to Rahmani the next day morning. From Rahmani we drove back to Ust-Kamenogorsk the same day, arriving at our hotel late and tired.<br /><br />The next night, we went to the best traditional Kazakhstan food restaurant. The food was great, especially the lahman (hand pulled noodles) with horse meat. As we were ordering desert, a group of about 10 well dressed older ladies came into the restaurant and got a private room (hanging tapestries around a low table with pillows to sit on). After a while we could smell the distinct aroma of people smoking marijuana... the ladies? Yep... after about 15 minutes there was lots of giggling. Classic, the ladies night out and they light up right in the restaurant!<br />Kazakhstan!<img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1029/1292542947_0c9dfdfbfa.jpg" border="0" /></p>Shelly Benoit and Rod Georgiuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07576379444307942020noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9072870512140165686.post-26490659208581756542007-08-11T05:37:00.000-07:002007-11-03T21:40:13.182-07:00Mt Khan TengriKhan Tengri: 7/30-8/14/2007<br />Kazakhstan<br /><br /><br /><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1177/1293025774_6ee763a936.jpg" border="0" />I’m wet<br />And I’m cold<br />And I’m standing on a glacier<br />In Kazakhstan<br />Tien Shan<br />(insert video)<br /><br />I stand singing this song, with a little dance, to keep warm inside the dining tent as it storms outside. The base camp at Khan Tengri (North Inchuk Glacier) is a scattering of many tents on wooden decks (they house two people), three pit toilets, and a large kitchen and dining tent. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1214/1293025826_bddcecb545.jpg" border="0" />The dining tent is erected directly on the glacier ice (no deck floor) and is filled with 8 long tables, benches, electric lights, and a television with VCR.<br /><br />Team Iran is sitting at another table playing chess and singing songs. It is raining and snowing outside just as the weather report we received from Michael Faigin in Seattle said it would. We came down because of this storm.<br /><br />The sacred Tien Shan mountains are a major part of Eastern Spiritual History. Tien Shan means "celestial mountains ", or "heaven's mountains". They exend from the Pamir mountains, Tajikistan, NE through the Xinjiang Uygur Autonomous Region, Kyrgiz, Kazakhstan, NW China, to the China-Mongolia border. They are the source of many sacred rivers, and the home of the most esteemed sacred mountain, Khan Tengri. Tengri is the name of the Eternal Blue Sky God. Khan means Lord, a ruler or leader, but with a mystical twist. The mountain Khan Tengri is "Lord Eternal Blue Sky God", or "Lord of the Heavens". Tengriism was the main religion of central asia before Islam. The Northern Chineese, Mongos, Turks, Kyrgiz, Kazak, Alti, and many more peoples revered the Eternal Blue Sky. The core beings in Tengriism are Sky-Father (Tengri/Tenger Etseg) and Mother Earth (Eje/Gazar Eej). Khan Tengri is the second tallest mountain in the Tien Shan, and the furthest north 7000 m peak in the world (6995 m not including the glacier ice on top, or 7010 m total height; ~23,130 ft).<br /><br />Preyers made to Khan Tengri can only be made for health, or aid in good deeds, and must always be made with palms facing the sky.<br /><br />We flew into Bishkek, Kyrgiz at 3 am. After a nap in the hotel, we got our lay of the town and contacted Marat, who will be coordinating our logistics in Kyrgiz and Kazakhstan. Marat is a “snow lepord”, a Russian/Soiviet distinction meaning he has climbed at least three 7000 m mountains. We had been corresponding with him via email for about 8 months, and thought he would be our guide. The next day, Marat and Kiril met us at the hotel. Instead, Karil will be our guide for Khan Tengri. He has only climbed it once before, seems young (he is 20), but is reasonably experienced in mountaineering… and well, what can we do? Besides, most of the route has fixed ropes and follows a ridge.<br />We thought he would be OK. We were wrong.<br /><br />Kiril, Rod, and I went shopping for food. Karil had a list of what was needed, so I picked out the 20 snickers bars, and 25 chocolate bars, and 5 blocks of cheese, and 5 whole salamis, while they got the other stuff (climbing Khan Tengri was planned to last 18 days). Then, with car loaded up with gear and food, we started the drive to the town of Karakol. We arrived around 10:30 pm and crashed. The next morning we continued the drive to the heli camp. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1185/1290862385_0f3b164fba.jpg" border="0" />Along the way we passed countless yurt camps with their herds of horses, bee hives, and 4WD trucks. I guess we crossed into Kazakhstan when we crossed the river to the heli camp, but there was no border control or even a sign.<br /><br />At the heli camp we set our stuff up in the tent provided, had some lunch (yummy!), and met other climbers that were either headed to the base camp, or just coming back from it. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1375/1290862483_a7a6ac828b.jpg" border="0" />One group of Spaniards told us that they had been caught by a snow storm for 5 days at camp 3 (5800 m) and only had two days of food. Luckily, they found some food left in a snow cave… mental note: this is a real mountain, and we need to take it seriously. Almost everyone coming back from base camp had bloody lips and blistered faces, either from frostbite or sunburn.<br /><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1320/1290948461_3a146ab553.jpg" border="0" /><br />We were supposed to fly to the base camp the next day, but got pushed off to the next day by the heli operator… bummed. The day after that, Rod woke up with diarrhea and decided it was best to stay at the relatively comfortable heli camp one more day. It turns out, that after talking with our guide Kiril, he is not at all acclimated. He usually climbs 4000 m mountains, and the base camp of Khan Tengri is at 4000 m. He wants to spend two days at base camp acclimatizing before heading up to camp 1 (4600 m). We told him to go to base camp, and we would see him the next afternoon (giving him 2 nights there, and us not loosing any more days). So, it wasn’t until day 5 that we finally got a lift to base camp.<br /><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1331/1290803934_cf76cd2d11.jpg" border="0" />It had snowed there all morning and the camp was a village of white atop one of the biggest glaciers I have ever seen. Beautiful views of the mountain with its pyramid top of pink marble.<br /><br />The next morning we headed up to Camp 1. Funny, the breakfast is served at 8:30 am and everyone starts getting ready after that… very unlike any other mountains we have climbed this year; climbers getting such a late start. But, that is how it’s done here… maybe because of the cold? From the base camp, we crossed the glacier (.5 hr) to the slope leading up to the ridge. The climb up was tough with all the fresh snow, and I was more tired than expected by the time we reached the big crevasse. After the big crevasse, it was just 3 fixed ropes up to the ridge and the camp. We set our tent up on a somewhat flat pad of rocks and made tea. Camp 1 was a little village of tents, with climbers there either going up or coming down. We had dinner and a lumpy sleep.<br /><br />After some convincing, we got Kiril to agree to get up at 6 am and start up to camp 2 early. But alas, we didn’t actually leave until 9 am. We climbed shoddy fixed ropes (some static, some dynamic, and some k-mart plastic specials) for 8 hours up to camp 2 (5480 m). Some of the ropes were worn down to a few strands at the top… the climber doesn’t find out until after they climbed it… yikes! <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1400/1290824610_c4dd2ea6a5.jpg" border="0" />The climbing is steep, from 45 to 75 degrees, and mixed snow and rock. We were relieved to find out that the ropes from camp 2 up to the summit are newly replaced and in much better condition. The climb is a Russian grade of 5b (on a scale of 1a to 6b), or TD on the French mountaineering scale. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1290/1290803916_4c8e8db04a.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />As we set up our tent in Camp 2, the snow started to fall and had reached blizzard proportion by the time we all piled inside. Unfortunately we followed Kiril’s idea to bring only one tent to camp 2. Having three wet, stinky people in one tent all afternoon, then cooking and eating dinner, and sleeping like sardines was not fun, to say the least. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1145/1289926539_a84daf4155.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Glad when the sun came up, I looked outside and saw a clear morning. But then it hit me… ooooohhh… head ache! For the first time in this trip, and surprisingly after being up at higher elevation many times recently, I was altitude sick. I felt pain in the base of my skull and forehead, and I was very lethargic. Rod, good dog, busted out breakfast and melted snow for tea. Kiril on the other hand, was looking and acting even sicker than me. He did not do anything, eat anything, or drink anything despite my urging him to do so. In the afternoon, he said he would go down instead of spending another night at camp 2 as planned. Because the slog up was so long and hard, Rod and I considered the idea of staying at camp 2, having a porter bring up a few things we need, and then continuing up (all of course, dependant on my headache getting better). When we gave Karil a list of what we needed, he got very angry and told us off, and left in a huff. But Ahh, the luxury when it was only two people in the tent for the evening and night!!!<br /><br />We used our radios to check in with Kiril the next morning (day 2 in camp 2). He said he would send our stuff with a porter who was leaving base camp that morning. Meaning that the porter would go to camp 1 that day, and come to camp 2 the next. Well, that means two days sitting here, but it’s better than going down and coming back up, right? So we spent the day drinking tea and eating yucky mashed potatoes with tinned fish. We are out of chocolate… where is all that chocolate we bought? We had brought up extra food to camp 2 as a carry (to stash it so we didn’t have to carry so much coming up the 2nd time)… but Kiril had organized the food, and it looks like it wasn’t so well thought out. Where is the cheese, where is the salami? It snowed in the evening, so we played cards and listened to our audio book on our iPod with speakers (a godsend on this trip), to pass the time. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1143/1289926555_18e7f057c4.jpg" border="0" /><br />Day 3 in camp 2 – On the radio check, we asked about the food. Fortunately, there were some Koreans that had just arrived at base camp and left food at camp 2, so we could go take it. By the late morning, my head ache was still around, so we decided to go to camp 1 for the night, then back to camp 2 tomorrow. We packed up and started down. As we descended it started to snow and get very cold. We were moving very slowly and starting to argue. Rod wanted to go back up to camp 2, and I wanted to go down to camp 1. He was carrying the food, and refused to give me some so that I could go to camp 1 alone, and he could go back up to camp 2, thinking that it wasn’t safe to separate. Against my wishes, I went back up to camp 2. Lucky for me, the short decent and bit of activity seemed to have done the trick… my head ache was gone. We waited all afternoon, thinking about heading up to camp 3 tomorrow, but the porter with our stuff never showed up! At the evening radio check, Karil said that he came back down to base camp today instead of going up to camp 2. AAAkkkkhhh! We need that stuff to summit. Kiril said he would start up tomorrow, making it another 2 days before we get our stuff and can continue to camp 3.<br /><br />We spent the 4th day in camp 2 drinking tea, playing cards, and practicing different rappel techniques on the frozen ropes. We know that in order to safely climb this mountain, we need to be able to descend it quickly and safely. The weather was beautiful, a perfect day for going to camp 3. The next day (day 5 in camp 2), around midday, Karil appeared at camp 2 with our stuff… some of it anyway. We offered him a cup of tea when he got to the camp, and tried to talk about going to camp 3 the next day. Again the weather was great… It could have been our summit day. Kiril slept in his own tent. We insisted he bring it up to camp 2. He was not very friendly.<br /><br />We got up early after a very windy night and packed up our stuff to go to camp 3. It was very windy. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1229/1290803900_7c05de6b8b.jpg" border="0" />The peak had a wind-formed cloud on one side of it and gusts were making me stumble as we walked up the first pitch from camp 2. After we crossed a knife edge ridge, we stopped to assess the situation. We had received, a few days ago, a weather report from Seattle that a low pressure system will move in tomorrow. It was highly likely we could get to camp 3 and be sitting there in a storm for 3 or 4 days. Rod and I brought food for 5 days, but when we asked Kiril how much food he had, he said only two days (how can a guide on a mountain like this not bring any extra food incase of emergency or bad weather?!!). We decided to go back to camp 2 and get an updated forecast and reassess. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1207/1290803894_b4ae1ee166.jpg" border="0" />We have to be back at base camp on the 17th at the latest, and today is the 10th. Back at camp 2 again! Kiril got to the camp before us, disappeared into his tent, and didn’t say a word to us for the rest of the day. We hung out and talked to climbers coming down in the afternoon. Yesterday 3 people summitted! But they said it was VERY COLD, and it took 17 hours round trip (camp 3 to summit to camp 3). <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1010/1290803890_d493b101ef.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />We got an updated forecast the next morning, saying there would be 3 to 4 days of storm followed by high winds. Starting today! Here was the choice: either go up to camp 3 today, wait out 3 or 4 days of storm there, hope for a window immediately afterward for a summit attempt, and then high-tail it back to base camp arriving the night of the 17th, or, give up and go down to base camp today before the storm hits. We decided to go down. The likelihood of making the summit seemed remote, and 3 or 4 days cooped up with Karil didn’t sound too good either. We packed up our tent and all our stuff while Kiril sat watching us, then started down. The decent was slow and it started to snow just as we reached camp 1. We urgently continued the decent to the base of the glacier, where we expected to find Kiril waiting for us, to show us the way across the glacier. It was cold and raining when we got there, and he was no where to be found. We started across the glacier following the bits of trail we could find. The sun started to set, and we lost the trail. We were tired, hungry, dehydrated, frustrated, cold, and lost in the middle of a huge glacier, in the dark. Rod had the good idea of trying to radio the camp for some one to come out and find us. We radioed and got Kiril… he said “there is a trail.” Yes, but we obviously can’t find it, or we would not have radioed. After some back and forth, he came out to guide us back to the base camp. We were not in good moods. We ate dinner and went to bed, angry and tired and embarrassed.<br /><br />It kept raining all night. The next day in the dining tent, I danced and sang…<br /><br />I’m wet<br />And I’m cold<br />And I’m standing on a glacier<br />In Kazakhstan<br />Tien Shan<br /><br />We flew back to the heli camp the next day. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1430/1293025866_273646563f.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div></div><div>In retrospect: </div><div>1) Climbing Khan Tengri on these frayed fixed ropes is very unsafe. What the guides say about the condition of the ropes is not reliable. If you want to be safe, find out the date they were last replaced, and assess from there. </div><div>2) Most people were climbing this mountain with an up and down acclimatization approach, doing carries. We saw that this was demoralizing and physically exhausting for most people. We spend 6 days at camp 2, which is also demoralizing and motivation killing. Neither is the way to do it. The best approach to this mountain is to climb some other mountain (maybe 5800 or 6000m), and then climb Khan Tengri alpine style… that is, go to camp 1, then directly to camp 2, one day rest at camp 2, then up to camp 3, summit and back to camp 3, camp 3 to camp 2, and camp 2 down.<br /></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1367/1289926533_0c33e08cac.jpg" border="0" /><br />This mountain was a real challenge and learning experience foe each of us. It pushed us physically, yes. But more so, it pushed us physiologically and emotionally. The experience mercilessly pointed out my weaknesses and faults and forced me to confront them. And the same for Rod. Consequently, it put a big strain on our relationship. It finally came down to the conscious choice of letting the shit that surfaced drive us apart forever, or just love each other through it. There were many arguments, but we chose love, and I think it has made us even stronger.<br /><br />Lord Eternal Blue Sky Mountain, Thank you. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1131/1289926511_10841d1547.jpg" border="0" />Shelly Benoit and Rod Georgiuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07576379444307942020noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9072870512140165686.post-36546506513099361712007-07-23T04:07:00.000-07:002007-09-26T20:54:10.882-07:00Mt KazbekMt. Kazbek: 7/21-24/2007<br />Georgia<br /><br /><br /><p><a href="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1007/894260438_1cf4a93266.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1007/894260438_1cf4a93266.jpg" border="0" /></a>We arrived in the Georgian capital of Tbilisi at 4PM. Picked up by a climber-looking guy at the airport. Driving through the city, we were struck by the contrast between beautiful old building and Soviet-looking newer buildings. Most old buildings were restored, and Tbilisi has an air of prosperity. We were told later that a lot of aid is pouring into Georgia. The US embassy is huge here. What for, is hard to imagine. There must be room for over 500 employees there, all this for a county of a few Million people?? Anyway, Georgian food (and wine) is great, something we've known from Russia. (Contrast this to Russian food- mayonnaise with this and that). A day later we started the drive to Mt. Kazbek. Visited a beautiful, XVth century church, built with the distinctive roof seen so often in Georgia.<img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1162/894159062_db2b488528.jpg" border="0" />Further, we drove over a high pass, just past a ski resort. As we started down from the pass, we admired the covered section of the road (against avalanches, which are quite frequent here). This is the Georgian Military highway, linking Georgia to Russia. Of course, the border is closed now and Georgian wines were smashed in Russian winestores last year to "protect Russian consumers against inferior quality Georgian wine", a good joke if I ever heard one. Russia flexing its muscle. </p><p>On our way down from the pass, we stopped at a stream of carbonated mineral water, flowing over a tan mineral/rock formation. They say it has great healing and restorative power. We filled up our water bottles, tried some, weird taste. Georgians love it though. I guess we didn't really give it enough of a chance. The next morning we started our assent of Mt Kazbek, hiking from the village of Kazbek (1,700 M)...<img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1057/894159450_5812803bf7.jpg" border="0" /></p><p>... through the forest...<img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1030/894159674_a46bd2a11c.jpg" border="0" /> ...to the hut on the glacier(3,700 M). Loooooong slog. Got a little interesting crossing a raging river, OK very interesting, but nobody fell in, so well is well.<br /><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1024/893540199_c212fe4e31.jpg" border="0" /><br />We finally get to the hut, beautiful stone building dating to the 1930's. It was originally the Meteorological station and was later converted to an alpine hut. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1093/893539993_7229a4ef76.jpg" border="0" />Time for tea; when we discovered how dirty a kitchen can really be. No cockroaches, but only because of the altitude. We were certain we were going to get sick, and we did. Our guide is nowhere to be seen and we wonder what we are going to eat. Finally he shows up with a few tins of liverwurst (but worse(t)) and bread. Oh well. We met two guys from Belgium who were waiting for their guide (and for the crampons and ice axes included in their "guided trip". By the time we left, two days later, the axes still did not show up). But they were really nice and gave us some of the pasta they made for dinner and some of their powdered milk. Digressing, but it seems that the former Soviet Union still has not fully embraced the concept of customer service- a fact observed in Russia in 2003 and 04, and later in Kyrgyz and Kazakhstan. </p><p>It took a while, but we finally convinced our guide that we needed to get up early for the summit attempt. So we started at 3:30 Am. Immediately our guide started at a blistering pace. We were seeing his headlamp off in the distance only occasionally, but we somehow managed to stay on the 'trail' while fumbling through talus fields (thanks only to Shelly's superior trail/tracking skill). We have 1,400 vertical meters to go!!! Digression No. 2. We observed this in many places: people (including guides who should know better) would start at a fast pace, leaving us behind, but within an hour or so they would slow way down, basically never recovering for the day. </p><p>Hmmm! Now roped up, we make our way through crevasse fields (I partially fell into one on the way down) as the sun begins to rise. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1400/894260164_f068af3d2d.jpg" border="0" /> And sure enough, when it gets steeper, our guide is hurting. He is going so slow, we decide to unrope and make our way without him. We were worried about the 6 inches of fresh snow<br /><a href="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1007/894260438_1cf4a93266.jpg"></a>sliding later in the day, and wanted to be long gone by that time. An hour later, and 6 hours after we started, we are on the summit, 5,047 m!! The last 1,000 ft or so was hard, 45 degree snow slope, with some tracks, but basically wallowing through deep, fresh snow.<br /><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1249/893539929_30b7c94e50.jpg" border="0" /><br />Beautiful views! But Kazbek has a gruesome legend. This is the place where Prometheus was chained down by Zeus to have his liver torn out by an eagle every day. Zeus knew that Prometheus was immortal, his liver would grow back everyday, he would have to endure the pain again and again and again. </p><p>In Greek mythology, Prometheus is one of the Titans. He is the supreme trickster, and considered the god of fire. His intellectual side is emphasized by the meaning of his name, Forethinker. Because he foresaw the defeat of the Titans by the Olympians (unlike Atlas), he sided with Zeus and was spared the punishment of the other Titans. Prometheus became a great benefactor of humankind. When Zeus mistreated humankind, Prometheus stole the secret of fire from the gods, and gave it to the humans. His sympathy with humankind roused the anger of Zeus, who then plagued him for an eternity of torture atop Mt Kazbek (Caucasus mountains). </p><p><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1096/894260214_14378cef2a.jpg" border="0" /><br /></p><div></div><div>After half an hour on the summit, we started down, collected our tired guide, and started the long (it was only 4 hours, but it sure felt longer) descent. Passed some Polish climbers who were going up. Team Poland (of which there was one on every mountain in Africa and Asia) ended up summiting and getting back to the hut around 9 PM, a 17 hour day. If anyone earned their summit, they did! Yeah for Team Poland!!! </div><div><br />Another night in the hut, which, hard to believe, is even dirtier than last night. We hear from a German group how wonderful the huts in Switzerland are... we need to check them up soon. </div><div></div><div>How much loooonger? We are descending back to town, 4 hours into it, with 55 pound packs. Managed again not to fall in the river, though was a lot closer for me this time. And we see the Monastery! On the way up we were looking forward to seeing it, but now it took now a lot of convincing on Shelly's part to walk the 10 minutes out of our way to visit it.<br /></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1262/894159752_fdfa0a0bba.jpg" border="0" /><br />Of course was beautiful, and of course we would've felt stupid for not seeing it, but tired is tired. The Sameba monastery was built of beautiful, local rock with basorelief carvings on the outside. At the door, they hand Shelly a skirt to wear over her pants, and we go in. Very tall ceiling, and very austere inside. A few paintings, a few St. George icons, but you get the feeling that life used to be hard here.<img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1254/893540787_ed9299671a.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div>Still, this church survived intact since the XIVth century, even the Soviet occupation did not put a dent in it.</div><br /><div></div><div>Two hours later, we are driving back to Tbilisi. But first, a 3 Pm lunch, with home made wine (goes down easily) and potstickers. </div><br /><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1125/894416164_3a5b7f40a4.jpg" border="0" /> <div></div><div>Back in Tbilisi, we had dinner at a great restaurant , Kala, our second time there. Highly recommended. Finished the dinner with sour cherry liquor, which is a lot better than it sounds. </div><br /><div></div><div>If only Prometheus could join have joined us. </div>Shelly Benoit and Rod Georgiuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07576379444307942020noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9072870512140165686.post-89685326332461604752007-07-16T04:36:00.000-07:002007-09-26T20:53:15.110-07:00Mt AraratMt Ararat: 7/13-17/2007 <br />Turkey<br /><br /><br />... coming soon ...Shelly Benoit and Rod Georgiuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07576379444307942020noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9072870512140165686.post-16087596275995544772007-07-12T05:29:00.000-07:002007-10-31T00:15:53.632-07:00Mt Nemrut DagNemrut Dag: 7/11-13/2007<br />Turkey<br /><br /><br />... coming soon ...Shelly Benoit and Rod Georgiuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07576379444307942020noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9072870512140165686.post-23774373137777280132007-07-08T04:23:00.000-07:002007-09-26T20:52:18.483-07:00Mt OlympusMt Olympus: 7/8/2007<br />Greece<br /><br />We are in the Greek village of Lithochoro, at the base of Mt. Olympus and 10 km from the sea.<br /><br /><br /><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1026/761711798_1f63ab1be0.jpg" border="0" /><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1199/761465792_8f17a79a87.jpg" border="0" /> Rare view of Mt. Olympus. Mytikos is the tallest peak, right in the middle<br /><br /><br />A 5AM start (thank you Bob for driving us) takes us to the end of the mountain road; the trailhead to Mt. Olympus.<br /><br />We start with headlamps on, but within 15 minutes the sunlight comes on. Beautiful electric colors spill through the trees. We admire, but we still have 2,000 M to go (UP!!).<br /><br />Nobody on the trail, which we are not complaining about. Most people that climb Olympus do it in two days, overnighting at the hut (2,000M) or Refuge A, as it is signed.<br /><br />Beautiful, clean place. We talked to the people at the refuge about skiing in the spring. We were informed that there are lots of avalanches above us, but not to the right, which had the same aspect (??). This is definitely a place to come in March or April. Very steep couloirs, somewhat reminiscent of Dana Plateau, about 1,000-1,500 foot long. You can probably camp here for a week and be thoroughly entertained.<br /><br />After a 45 minute tea break at the refuge, we start on the final 1,000 M. Low elevation (by comparison to where we've been this year), so we go pretty fast.<br /><br />We end up at the junction between Skala and Mytikos. Myticos is the highest peak at 2,918M. The path to it is very exposed, portions of it 3th class with pretty slick rock.<br /><p><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1424/761491574_f83ae54318.jpg" border="0" /><br />After less than an hour, we finally make it to the top, where there are a few people sunning themselves.<br /><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1101/760638009_a86218bb65.jpg" border="0" /><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1164/761491822_3c148b4278.jpg" border="0" /><br />The views are spectacular. Mt. Olympus is renowned for being in the clouds all the time, so we are really lucky to see it basking in the sun. </p><p>To the South, we see the top of the ski resort, to the East the Aegean sea.<img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1360/761491868_d9dfe25b2e.jpg" border="0" /> And to NE, a grassy plateau where you can imagine the Greek Gods gathering and plotting against one another. The Mytikos peak is really too small (a few meters at most) and too jagged to be their gathering place.<br /><br />We are plotting our next trip: take the ski lift up, traverse a few Kilometers, and set up camp. Maybe next year.<br /><br />We start descending, pole-pole (this is slowly-slowly in Swahili- something we heard all the time on Kilimanjaro). We take it easy (and very carefully) on the exposed section, <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1289/761491698_d432e57487.jpg" border="0" /><br />then we get back to the Skala-Mytikos junction.<br /><br />Loose talus makes the descent a chore. With sore knees, we arrive at the hut, where we see about 100 athletic students from Croatia. We rest and manage to leave right after them. This makes even slower going, though we were not exactly complaining.<br /><br />4:30, and we finally make it to the trailhead.<br />"Why are we doing this to ourselves?" is the foremost question on our minds. 12,000 vertical feet in one day? I guess it's the trade-off between this and spending 3 days on the mountain, sleeping in a nice, but noisy hut.</p>Shelly Benoit and Rod Georgiuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07576379444307942020noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9072870512140165686.post-68613271457523753262007-07-02T04:23:00.000-07:002007-12-03T02:34:40.334-08:00Mt ParnassusMt Parnassus: 7/1-2/2007<br />Greece<br /><br />It was awesome. My parents met us in Athens and hung out with us while we were in Greece. It was great to see them, especially because this is the longest time i have spent without seeing them in my life! It was kind of like a rest, or break, from the trip being back with family, and being in relatively familiar and comfortable Europe.<br /><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1115/760720571_1cdae9eb64.jpg" border="0" />We spent a couple days in Athens running errons and gathering essential, yet hard to find, things like zip-lock bags, face moisturizer with SPF, and cotton socks. And of course we visited the Parthenon, drank great wine, and ate too much food. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1295/760720635_0d14b9ac50.jpg" border="0" /> Our first, of two, mountains to climb in Greece was Parnassus, site of the legendary oracle of Delphi. We drove to Arahova, a great mountain ski town on the slopes of Parnassus, and about 8km from Delphi. According to Greek mythology, this mountain was sacred to Apollo, the Corycian nymphs and was the home of the Muses. The Oracle of Delphi was sacred to the god Apollo. As the home of the Muses, Parnassus became known as the home of poetry, music, and learning. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1341/761711306_c267bfe50c.jpg" border="0" />Just down the slope from Delphi, is the sanctuary of Athena. Athena is the companion of heroes and the goddess of heroic endeavor. She also became the goddess of wisdom and philosophy (the Parthenon and Athens are devoted to her as well). <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1242/761711594_a3a51d4142.jpg" border="0" />And lying between these two powerful monuments is the Castalian Spring. The sacred spring of Delphi lies in the ravine of the Phaedriades. The preserved remains of two monumental fountains that received the water from the spring can be visited today. We visited the oracle, then the sanctuary of Athena, then collected water from the sacred spring to carry to the summit of Mt Parnassus. <div></div><br /><div>Sacred Delphi has it origins in prehistoric times and the worship of Gaia, the Earth Goddess. Only later did it become the religious and spiritual center of the acient Greek world. The legond says that Apollo made it his by killing the Python that guarded the oracle of Gaia. The way the oracle worked was classic... A priestess of the oracle, a Pythia, sat on a tripod seat over an active geologic vent on the side of the mountain. Fumes would rise out the vent (fumes containing who knows what kind of gasses...) and intoxicate the Pythia. She would fall into trance, allowing Apollo to possess her spirit, and make prophesies. Usually this came out as mumbled gibberish, so a priest would interpret what she said into something understandable. People consulted her on everything from important matters of public policy to personal affairs. </div><br /><div></div><div>The day after visiting Delphi (and trying to inhale as much oracle air as possible :), we set out early in the morning to climb to the summit of Parnassus. Many thanks to my dad for driving us to the ski resort where we would begin the climb. My mom, dad, rod and I all started up the ski runs, heading to the top ridge of the resort. Gun shots rang out periodically, and we were all a bit worried about who was shooting and weather they saw us coming up or not. At the mid lodge, my dad turned around and went back to the car to wait for us to return, and the 3 of us continued up the ridge. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1299/761449722_e62b88e8be.jpg" border="0" /></div><div></div><div>At the top, the gun shots were louder! We started walking along the well marked trail off the top the resort and into the deeper mountain. We reached a small fissure in the rock where the trail went and were stunned to find a air powered cannon shooting into the fissure. After some careful inspection, we decided it wasn't shooting anything but air. Still, it was still scary walking in its range and through the fissure as it fired at us. </div><br /><div></div><div>At the base of the final pitch to the summit, we stopped for some lunch. We brought cheese, bread, some tomatoes, and 1.5 L of local white wine. We ate and drank a little too much (considering we are still in the middle of a long hike), and then started the slog to the top. Hurray!! We summitted!! And, even better... My totally Awesome Mom just charged up here! She was leaving me behind on the way up! Yeahhh Mom!!<img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1124/761449716_b1a26a97e2.jpg" border="0" /></div><div></div><div>We offered the water from the Castilian spring to the mountain and hung out a bit, then headed down. It was long walk down. Especially walking the last part through the ski resort. When we finally reached the gravel road that would take us to the parking lot, we composed the road song...</div><br /><div></div><div>"We are on the Road, Yeah!</div><div>We are on the Road.</div><div>Walking on the Road, Yeah!</div><div>Walking on the Road.</div><div>No more stumbling, no more fumbling</div><div>We are on the Road!"</div><br /><div>My Dad was waiting with the car. Yea Dad! We headed back to town tired and hungry, but in good spirits, having enjoyed our time with the beautiful Mt Parnassus (we didn't see any Nymphs though).</div>Shelly Benoit and Rod Georgiuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07576379444307942020noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9072870512140165686.post-61085425675067165032007-06-26T05:27:00.000-07:002007-09-26T20:51:04.603-07:00Amboseli SafariAmboseli National Park Safari: 6/25-27/2007<br />Kenya<br /><br />After climbing three mountains in East Africa, Rod and I were ready for a few days relaxation. We decided to go stay at the Amboseli Serena Lodge in the Amboseli National Park… maybe we will see some animals too!<br /><br />Little did we know, Josiah hooked us up with the full safari deal. A driver picked us up at the Tanzania/Kenya border to drive us to the lodge. Turns out, he will be staying at the lodge for the whole time we are there; ready to take us out to look for animals any time we want! Yahh Hooo!!<br /><br /><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1252/761392091_3c8ca7162e.jpg" border="0" /><br />Just on the drive to the lodge we saw some real treats! Warthogs, Wildebeests, Herons, Gazelles, and so much more! <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1303/761392343_2bf3770dd9.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />It is kind of weird the way the parks are set up. You must be in a vehicle at all times, you cannot get out and walk. They all have pop top roofs so that you can feel like you are outside (and get the unobstructed views). The lodge is fenced in with electric fence… no animals in, and only white trucks out. And all the vehicles must stay on the designated roads. In this way, it seems that the wildlife is undisturbed by the big white metal creatures that walk along their paths and sometimes stop. It was like we were just another species grazing on the plain, and could therefore be ignored by everyone else. It made for amazing wildlife viewing and some great photos!<br /><br />We took two drives, one in the evening (when we saw Elephants, Hyena, Ostrich, and Zebras, just to name a few) and one in the morning. The morning drive was spectacular… the most amazing sunrise! <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1208/761392497_cb97056e79.jpg" border="0" />We also got to see a cheetah, with two cubs, who has just made a kill. The rest of the time, we relaxed, got massages, ate too much, and enjoyed watching the little monkeys run all over the trees and buildings. The lodge was very nice. We had a great room with a bath tub and clean white linen… such luxury after weeks of camping. <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1030/762296970_d160c03ab3.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />The morning we left the lodge, the skies cleared and reveled Mt Kilimanjaro overlooking the abundant plains. It was the first time we saw the mountain in whole. What a great way to end our East African journey; driving along marsh lands busy with elephants, hippopotamus, and eagles, with a glacier capped Kilimanjaro back drop!<br /><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1297/761392597_d660a0d447.jpg" border="0" /><br />Kenya and Tanzania… we have enjoyed our time here very much, met friendly good-natured people, and fallen in love with this amazing place.Shelly Benoit and Rod Georgiuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07576379444307942020noreply@blogger.com0