Birethanti at 6:30 in the morning

I could not figure out what this woman was doing on her roof at 6:30 in the morning.

A woman working on her roof

It was a short 1/2 hour walk, including one last suspension bridge, to the main road where our taxi driver was waiting.

One last bridge

As we neared Pokhara after about 1 1/2 hours, we stopped at a Tibetan refugee camp. 

Tibetan Buddhist temple near Pokhara

Tibetan woman spinning

By 10 a.m., I was settling into my hotel room at the Four Seasons in Pokhara.  I spent the day shopping, eating a hamburger and French fries in the garden at the Boomerang with Monica and Cash (my new friends from the Netherlands), and just relaxing.

Street sweeping in Pokhara; my back hurts just looking at him

Where do you keep your cow?

Hanging succulent

Brahminy starlings near my hotel balcony

My trek in the Himalayas was over, but I was not yet done with the mountains.  A flight-seeing trip to Everest was still on my agenda after returning to Kathmandu.

The trek was neither as long or as hard as the John Muir Trail (three weeks in the California Sierras), nor was the food nearly as good.  And those steps–give me a switchback any day.  This was an entirely different kind of trek.  It involved walking between villages and among fields with overnights in rustic guesthouses rather than camping in the wilderness.  It was much more a cultural experience rather than an outdoors experience. 

BUT, the Himalayas are the tallest (and youngest and largest) mountains on earth.  If you’re a mountain lover, you have to go.

The Modi Khola valley leads to the Annapurna Sanctuary

The mountains tower over you

The sun rises really late

 When you reach the Sanctuary at 13,000′, Annapurna at over 26,000′ still looms over you.

In the Sanctuary

Mt. Whitney at 14,500′ doesn’t compare.

Mt. Whitney from the desert floor

Urinsaya's courtyard

Since the van ride to Chivay was the only time I was “on the road” with other travelers, the Urinsaya was the only truly tourist restaurant I ate in.  It serves a buffet with about 30 choices.  Thus, it provided me an opportunity to sample a wide variety of dishes.

I ate there twice, before and after my trek into Colca Canyon.  While some of the items were available both times, others were not.  Moreover, as some items disappeared onto people’s plates, the empty platters were replaced–sometimes with different items.  On my first visit, our group of about 8 was among the last to arrive and the place was bustling.  While small van tours were the norm, there also were several large tour bus-loads of diners.  Groups were assigned to long tables.  Since I was a group of 1 within the group of 8, I was assigned my own section of a large table, but no one ever sat at the other end.  It felt rather strange sitting by myself surrounded by these large groups of noisy diners.  On my second visit, I was just with my guide, and we were the first diners.  We even had to wait for the hot dishes to come out of the kitchen.  So, while some items had been sitting around for a bit the first time, everything that was supposed to be hot was.

Now, to the food.  First of all, one needs to know that all Peruvian entrees are served with both potatoes and rice.  (My low-carb diet disappeared quickly.)  On my two “treks”, both lunch and dinner usually consisted of at least two courses, either a soup and an entree or an appetizer and an entree. Dinner usually ended with a sweet of some kind, although jello or pudding were the norm on the trail.

Here, there were several choices of chopped salads featuring various combinations of cucumbers, tomatoes, celery, cheese, beets, carrots, avocados, peppers, etc.  Even though it was the equivalent of winter, all types of vegetables seemed to be readily available–just like at home.  Most were tossed with various oil and vinegar-based dressings.  But there was no lettuce in any of the salads.  My guess is that most tourists have been so indoctrinated with the idea that they should never eat anything that hasn’t been peeled or boiled, that if the Urinsaya served it, it would just sit there.  When served a sliced avocado and tomato on a bed of lettuce as an appetizer on the Inca Trail, I ate it all, but my traveling companions just picked out the avocado.

Among the stew-like dishes served in clay pots, I tried a tasty lamb stew and a version of aji de gallina–a spicy chicken dish with a sauce made from bread, milk, walnuts and cheese.  I also had this last dish in a nice restaurant in Cusco.  The restaurant version was spicier, so I think the Urinsaya toned down its dishes for the masses.

On the other hand, there was no way to tone-down the stuffed peppers–rocoto rellenos.  My only complaint was that here they only served a little, cold appetizer version.  I never had the opportunity to test my tastebuds on a warm hot pepper during my entire four weeks in Peru.

I also got to taste some meat that had been roasted and sliced.  It was very chewy and probably was alpaca, since I had alpaca several other times, and each time, no matter how it was fixed, it was chewy.  I’ve put it on my list of foods that I won’t order on a restaurant menu, right there with beef.

Then there were the ubiquitous fried chicken and french fries.  I just happened on a fresh batch of both when I went back for a second plate; both were very good. 

One of the more unusual starch dishes was a quinoa croquette.  It was not warm.  It wasn’t clear if it was supposed to be room temperature or it had just been sitting too long, as it didn’t seem to be very popular.  I was singularly unimpressed; maybe if it had been warm, as I had quinoa served numerous other ways and enjoyed them all.

I don’t remember if there were any fish dishes served at the Urinsaya, but there probably was at least one.  I had fish numerous times in Peru, but now, almost four months later, I recall three excellent and very different fish meals.  On the island of Taquile in the middle of Lake Titicaca I was served locally caught fish that had been lightly breaded and then sauteed, on a hillside terrace surrounded by fresh flowers.  It was a beautiful day, and the setting made the simple meal memorable.

My lunchtime view on Taquile Island in Lake Titicaca

On the other hand, the kitchen would never grace the pages of a travel magazine.

The kitchen on Taquile

In Cusco I dined one evening at the Pacha Papa restaurant where I sat in the candle-lit courtyard near the wood-fire oven and watched them prepare my claypot-cooked trout and bake tray after tray of rolls that came to your table piping hot. 

My last memorable fish meal was my very last meal in Peru.  My plane from Cusco landed in Lima in the late afternoon, but my flight to Los Angeles didn’t take off until midnight.  A guide and driver from Ancient Summit  picked me up at the airport and drove through horrible rush hour traffic to Miraflores, where I dined at the Rosa Nautica on sea bass Florentine.  The Rosa Nautica, with its beautiful seaside setting overlooking the lights of the city, reminded me of  The Reef in Long Beach.  Its style and service were also just like those at any high-end American (as in USA) restaurant.

Rosa Nautica

Mt Shasta

But none of these situations prepared me for Chachani (19,871′), El Misti (19,101′), and Picchu-Picchu (18,583′) which are immediately noticable when one lands at the airport of Peru’s second largest city Arequipa.  While only El Misti is considered active, its summit lies a mere 10.5 miles away from the center of the city.

El Misti from a rooftop in Arequipa

It is right there, in your face, looming over the city.  Its last eruption was in 1985, just a few years after Mount St. Helens blew off its top.  The city takes the threat seriously and not long before I arrived ran a test evacuation.

Now while El Misti may be 5,000′ higher, it is not snow-covered year-round like Shasta.  [My photos of Shasta and Misti were taken in October and June (think December since it's in the Southern Hemisphere).]  To reach Shasta’s peak one must ascend 7,000 feet over ice, snow and rock; a climb that takes eight to nine hours under the best conditions.  Only about 1/3 of those who attempt the ascent complete it.  (For a good description of the hike, see http://gorp.away.com/gorp/publishers/foghorn/cli_shas.htm or http://www.summitpost.org/mountain/rock/150188/mount-shasta.html.)  The ascent of El Misti is about the same (2,400m), but while one is hiking at much higher altitudes, it is not as technically challenging.  (See http://www.summitpost.org/mountain/rock/150393/el-misti.html.)

No, it never even crossed my mind to attempt the climb.  I was saving my knees for Colca Canyon and the Inca Trail.

Manker Flats Campground is at the base of Mount San Antonio, locally known as Old Baldy and the highest point in Los Angeles County.  We only hiked to the ski hut at 8200′, a steady trudge up the fire road shown in the photo below.

The next day we took it easy and hiked just a couple of miles up Icehouse Canyon to the Cucamonga Wilderness boundary.   This trail differed dramatically from the one up Mt. Baldy–the rocky footpath  followed a stream up a verdant valley where a flood had wiped out many of the original cabins leaving all sorts of ruins to explore.

After five nights of no showers (or shaving for Harry), we headed for a motel in downtown Palm Springs.  We left the foggy, chilly nights around a campfire for the warm desert breezes and patio dining after a couple of hours sipping beers by the pool.

The next morning we joined about 30 other hikers catching the first tramup to Mt. San Jacinto State Park.   From the tram station, it’s a 10-11 mile roundtrip hike to the peak with an elevation gain of 2300′.  Harry did quite well, making it to Wellman Divide where he sat and rested for three hours while I continued on to the peak.