Hiking the Langtang
Trekking up on English Literature
One of the Tamangs we hired to guide us on the Langtang Trek spoke quite eloquent English. The other three visibly deferred to him, and never once interacted with us.
Based on our hiking experiences and everything we’d read about the Trek we expected to complete it, out and back, in less than a week. However, the top guide after surveying our shapes declared “nine days, possibly ten.” We, at least the smart ones, quickly changed our return flight reservations.
From the trailhead at Suyabru Besi to the top at Kyanjin Ri the honcho did all the talking, while the silent three carried our baggages. He ended up quarterbacking the entire expedition anyway, for the trail proved to be rather strenuous and convoluted in a number of segments.
The head honcho also knew the locations of the guest houses along the path and seemed to be friends with the owners and workers there. Refreshingly, he had a story or an ancient legend to tell us about the unique geographical features and geological peculiarities we encountered. In-between he recited famous lines from Anglo-Saxon literature and challenged us to identify the author.
“Men shut their doors to the setting sun,” was easy, Timon of Athens by Shakespeare. “The world will end with a whimper not with a bang,” was from T. S. Elliot, although that was not an entirely accurate quote. There were more difficult ones, for example, “The road like a slow screw’s thread,” was quite applicable to the trail, but took us a long discussion until somebody finally remembered: Canto XVI by Ezra Pound. Shamefully, there were several others we could not decipher for love or money. Still, all of us, including the culturally handicapped, had a great time both ascending and coming back down.
When we parted company he announced, “the great sublime idol holds sway over you until the menacing murmur from the netherworld frightens you to your senses.” Then he added a few words in his native language. At the hotel the concierge was reluctant to translate it verbatim, only remarked the chief guide must have been very disappointed with the gratuity.
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A sketch of this article was published in Friday Flash Fiction on February 2, 2024.
