Stok-La--The Peak

When I woke up on the third day of the trek, my headache had dissipated and I was ready to hit the peak. After a hearty breakfast of milk tea, eggs and porridge and some sort of greasy fried bread, I had enough carbohydrates in me to take Everest itself.

Ascent to Stok-La Day 2

The second and third days of our trek up to Stok-La began at about 3500 meters, the same altitude as Leh. From the campground we set off to conquer at 40 degree hill that, combined with the thin air, immediately challenged the feeling of confidence (about the nature of the 2nd and 3rd days trek) we had woken up with. Arriving at the time of that hill, Paul looked winded and I was gasping for breath.

To Stok-La and Back

"La" means pass (as in moutain pass) in Tibetan. Stok is a village located in a fertile valley that is home to the Ladakhi royal family. The trek we began 4 days ago began about 65 kilometers to the Northeast of Stok, which is several valleys away from Leh, Ladakh. We knew that the trek up to Stok-La was going to be challenging at best and possibly even miserable at times.

Letter from Leh

Our second day in Leh. Have walked the streets of the 30,000 strong old capital of Ladakh. A beautiful town, with a large 17th century castle, modeled on the Potala Palace in Lhasa. We are staying in Old Leh, a district of narrow winding streets that a pinto would have trouble navigating, lined with 6 foot walls made out of a mud brick that matches the color and consistency of the mountains that encircle the city.

Letter from Leh

We have arrived in Leh, Ladakh. After a grueling 23 hour jeep ride through some of the highest passes in the world, we made our way into Jammu/Kashmir, known as the paradise of India. It is also one of the most troubled hotspots in the world.

Letter from Manali

Arrived in Manali yesterday after an 11 hour ride from Dharamsala. Dharamsala lies to the west and south of Manali, in the northern part of Himachal Pradesh. Home to the Dalai Lama, the Tibetan government in exile, European and Australian dharmabums and far too many Israelis.

Letters from the Subcontinent

Before leaving for Asia, I made a determination that ran against all my previous instincts as a traveler. While traveling in Japan and the Middle East, I was decidedly incommunicado, calling home and friends only infrequently and never writing. This was primarily because I didn't want to shape my experiences with a set of preconceived categories of who I was or how I lived. I wanted to be changed by my experiences and so I generally didn't record them.