The Mountain

(Late-posting a brief memoir of the Mt. Whitney hike from Sep 2016)

X: I don't know if I should write anything about the trip this time. Everyone has already written everything there was to write. 
Y: Yes, a few folks have used your style, you need to write something different.

Different... It was different for sure. It was different, difficult, distinguished, demanding, delightful, delusive, dependable, dark, defiant, deep, daunting, dauntless (yes, it was both). Anything but dull.

A daunting plan
.. "Wake up at 12am and go up the highest peak in continental United States as a day hike". My reaction: "Are you freaking kidding me??" True story.

A difficult prep
.. My standard words almost every weekend in the last two months: "Kunal, what time is your practice/show? We HAVE to do a practice hike today" closely followed by "We need to confirm our accommodations in Lone Pine this weekend" and "When do we get those energy gels, protein bars, and chews for the group?".

A delightful reunion
.. Made a much needed dent in the beer stocked in our fridge. And replaced the cobwebs in my heart and mind with lots of fun (pun?) and laughter.

A deep breath
.. that I needed to take on that first look of the peak from the hostel corridor on that super windy morning.

A dark path
.. that we shivered on at 4am, walking away from what felt like death by cold. No kidding, the water in our hydration pack pipes froze, gels turned into ice candy and a simple banana tasted like a split sundae without the extra sugar.

A distinguished palette
.. with hues of blue, orange and pink. Watching the dawn break faintly on peachy mountain tops reflected in Mirror Lake was a spiritual experience.

A demanding pace
.. with switchbacks threatening to kill it every 5 minutes as fatigue started looming over.

A dependable hope
.. asking me to go on when the body started giving in to the exhuastion of the mind.

A defiant shout 
.. out to Kunal, not seeing him anywhere, but knowing he will answer if I call him. Yes, it sounds stupid, and overly dramatic. And yes, he heard me in the middle of nowhere.

A delusive walk
.. back to Trail Crest from the top where all rocks in the path started looking blurry. Unfortunately timed stomach cramps and altitude nausea work in wonderous ways, making rocks dance around like creatures from Fraggle Rock

A dauntless return
.. as the trail went on endlessly, with the dazzling night sky looking like a million high resolution TV screens pinned together to provide an integrated multi media experience.

It may have felt like some kind of diabolical torture had I not been surrounded by people whom I consider closer than many people I share my genes with. The "You got it" secret call, the methane blasts, the suspiciously squeaky bunk beds, the two critical Bs (beer and biryani), the crazy look-in-the-distance shots made it the amazing adventure it was.

And now that all the excitement has been lived to the fullest, "Dull" is what I am left with..

.. Till the next time that is :)

The Dome

(Late-posting a brief memoir of the Half Dome hike from June 2014)

".. and before starting my hike, my son said to me - 'There is a squirrel on the top. Get me a picture of that squirrel.' Sure enough there was a squirrel at the top. It is always there, telling people that it does not matter how big or small you are, you can get where you want to" Brandon said waving his hands. Brandon is a wonderful gentleman who volunteers in the Yosemite bookstore. He has scaled the Half Dome at Yosemite more than 10 times. For me, it was going to be the first time the very next day.

Many folks had told me that having done Grand Canyon, Half Dome would be a piece of cake. Well, I found out that Half Dome was more like a tough cookie. The figures might not seem much different from our Grand Canyon adventure last summer- an elevation gain and loss of 4800 ft in around 17 miles. But like many other things in life, figures are not indicative of the experience.

I cannot put a number on how the cold mist from Vernal falls engulfed me, or how it made the rocky trail path so much more treacherous. Neither can I put a number on the beautiful sound of the gushing Merced river, or on the really steep path that it had carved out for us to traverse. I cannot count the number of times I had to stop completely exhausted, my heart beating like drums in my ears, or the number of times I willed myself to continue. Neither can I capture in figures the spirit of exploration among passing hikers, seen alike in a boy all of 10 years and a lady all of 65 years.

I also crunched some numbers, just for the sake of statistics. After all, we live in a world that is obsessed with data and figures..

The number of animals (deers, coyote, bear included) we sighted was more than the number water stations we encountered (just 1!). 5 was the number of liters of water each one of us carried.

The number of seconds for which I was frozen with fear on steps-less sub dome was a little more than 80, which was the temperature in degrees Fahrenheit that day. 90 is what it felt like.

My pulse rate as I started at the bottom of the cables was MUCH higher than 70, which was the angle at which the cables sloped up the dome. 400 feet was the distance to the top.

The number of complete strangers who were kind to me was 12, which was also the number of hours I climbed and walked. And then there was Kathie. I am sorry I did not ask for your full name Kathie, but the harness that you gave away to me without a second thought was probably what strengthened my resolve to go up the cables.

The number of times I smiled at the top of the dome was way more than 37, which is the number of photographs that I took at the summit. 300 is the total number of photographs that I took through the trip.

If that's not enough here are some more figures:

Number of people we were: 6

Number of hours we barely managed to sleep: 5

Number of funny movie reviews and parodies we watched repeatedly: 4

Number of songs we sang late into the night: 3 

Number of cuisines we sampled: 2

Number of things I checked-off my wishlist: 1

Number of memories I made: countless.

This trip was like a contradiction in itself. The awesome live music performance at Southgate Brewery (which by the way, serves the best oil-dipped garlic fries and fig desert pizza :-D) was equally matched by the delicious food at Taste of China, mismatched completely by the disastrous late night trip to Denny's. It was almost like a combination of Yo Yo Honey Singh's senseless rap, Irshad Kamil's philosophical poetry and foot tapping country music. It was silly, challenging and fun. Most importantly, it was test of mental strength at more than one level. And I daresay, we passed with flying colors.

Oh, I did see the squirrel, right there, at the top of Half Dome. I was where I wanted to be.

The Canyon

(Late-posting a brief memoir of the Grand Canyon hike from Aug 2013)

"Life begins at the end of your comfort zone"

The quote on refrigerator magnet I got from Grand Canyon stares at me. I had always liked this quote by Neale Donald Walsch. My recent Labor day weekend vacation made me live it.

Looking back, I would not blame all the well-intentioned people who forbade us against hiking down and up the Grand Canyon in one day. It is not child's play and no, it is certainly NOT recommended. It is one of those things which have that ominous tagline: "Acts are performed by professionals. Do not try this at home".

But then, what would life be without the quintessential sense of adventure..!

For how else could we have seen the 360 degree view of the canyon bathed in sunrise colors that put photo filters to shame..

How else could we have listened to the childishly delightful echoes of our voices, bouncing off the ancient, silent walls..

How else could we have witnessed hot coexist with cold if it wasn't for the sun burning down at 90 degrees, with our feet in the freezing water of the Colorado river..

How else could we have discovered that potato bread with cheese slices and mayo could taste better than a seven course meal..

How else could we have realized the importance of a "dot" and the amount of hope it can give when it turns 3 miles into .3 miles..

How else could we have discovered that they have a jail (yes, a jail!) in the middle of the Grand Canyon, but no trash cans..

How else could we have been in awe for insects 10 times smaller than us, especially when those insects are large spiders and fire ants bustling around on the ground which we sought to sit on during breaks..

How else could we have known what countless means, as those many stars brightly twinkled down on us from a dressed-to-dazzle night sky.. I swear I could see the Milky Way that night as we hiked up the inner canyon in pitch dark.

How else could we have experienced the true essence of camaraderie as we unknowingly transitioned from nice-to-meet-you to i-know-you-can-do-it in just 30 hours..

At the end of it all, we weren't exactly dancing with joy. In fact we were barely able to walk, having gone down 5000ft and then come back up, 16.3 miles in 15 hours. And all I know is that we would not have had it any other way.

Whether it was driving through dense fog from Phoenix to the Canyon, or through three lightening-rich thunderstorms on the way to Page. The aerial fight sequences and deep dives on the shore of Lake Powell overshadowed the momentary disappointment of not being able to visit Antelope canyon. The past-midnight bites from McDonalds were as sumptuous as the delicious Pizza at the Wahweap Grill. The adrenaline pumping through our veins as we rushed to catch our flights as the gates were closing was so overpowering that it would have challenged a 12 year old scotch.

I am thinking that the next time I find myself snuggling in too deep in that "comfort" zone, I am going to call up this gang of guys and have them pull me out for another uber-ambitious expedition. BRING IT ON!!