12 July 2006, Action-Man, Kimche, Nepal

The eagle looks down and laughs as we toil up the hill. It's a thousand-meter climb today, from Nayapul to Ghondruk. Thousands of stony steps snake up through hundreds of rice terraces. The local women descend the steps from their mountain villages to the markets below, then carry everything back up again in baskets with cloth straps, resting the weight on their heads. Children with runny noses clamber down the rocks in bare feet.

It rained hard this morning. We taxied to Nayapul, a small village where the road into the mountains ends. We began our trek to Annapurna Base Camp under the downpour. Midmorning we stopped in the gorge for daal baht (rice and lentils) and raksi (a local drink that warms the bones). Now we are stopped in Kimche, over half-way up. The sun breaks through the clouds now. A strange wind lifts them off the mountains like someone whisking a handkerchief off a covered dish.

The guesthouse owner here has a wall of painted flags. They represent the homelands of climbers who have made it this far. They are old--among them are East and West Germany and Zaire. He sips milk tea and chats with our friend Yogya, looking out over the deep valley.

The mountain springs gush forth water down through the stony paths. The monsoon season is in full swing. We'll keep hoping for patches of light.

Drew