Today we crossed the high pass we could see from our camp. Maps show various names for it such as Jhyarkhoi Pass, but our local yak man says it's properly just Charku La (charku means bird and la means pass in Tibetan). The maps also have wildly different elevations for the pass, most of them way too low. My GPS put the top at 5500 meters, which would be equal to Kang La, the first difficult pass we crossed ten days ago.Marcia and I both kept putting one foot in front of the other to get to the top, and we both felt much better at this altitude. Even so, one can never completely acclimatize, and the last climb was not easy. It was particularly so for Marcia, who took her mind off her feet a few steps from the top and fell on the ice, bruising her leg and ribs. Coughing later in the day, she aggravated the rib injury with a pulled muscle.
It is interesting to have the Tibetan yak man Paruwa in our party. He is relatively tall and soft-spoken especially around his yaks. He also began the day with about 30 minutes of chanting just like what one would hear in a monastery. It shows how deeply Tibetan Buddhism still penetrates this culture that a simple yak man does such elaborate chants for the safety of his animals.
Paruwa is also helping Kinna find the way through this remote region, where neither our guide nor our cook has been before. This explains some of the aggressive time estimates, which probably are accurate for a Tibetan yak man. This happened again today at lunch, when Paruwa advised Kinna we could find water just after the pass. That turned out to be an hour and a half of hard downhill for us Westerners. But he was right that there was finally water, and then he led us to a great camping place next to a spring known only to yak men. Of course, we do have to watch where we step when we go out of the tent.
Whatever his limitations on timing and personal cleanliness (many Tibetans consider dirt and yak butter to be good sunscreen), Paruwa is very sound on yaks. It is amazing to see what goes into putting a load on a yak. The first step is to tie the yak's front legs together, which is essential to avoid kicks from these huge beasts, which are only partly domesticated. The yaks seem to understand the necessity of this when Paruwa approaches them talking with clicking noises from behind. Then, Paruwa puts four layers of Tibetan and sheepskin rugs on their backs, as well as a small wooden rack shaped to the yak's back. Finally they tie on the load of up to 120 kilograms (260 pounds), which the yaks will carry all day even as they graze.
