My first trek
I went to Langtang in 2016, right after the earthquake. My first time in the mountains. I was excited and had no clue what I was doing. No idea how to trek, what to carry, what to expect.
Five of us boys rode up on bikes and then started hiking. I showed up with a duffel bag stuffed with things I didn't need. Heavy and stupid. After day one, we left the extra stuff at a tea house.
The first thing we saw was a giant fallen boulder with a tea house crushed underneath it. We spent the night right next to that rock, in a shelter the locals had built. I looked up and saw more boulders sitting the same way. On the other side was a fast river. That was the first time I really felt it: if nature decides, we have no option.
Day two, bags light, we moved fast.
The higher we went, the more open it got. Mountains, waterfalls, clouds everywhere. I forgot everything else.
Then I started seeing what the avalanche had done. Trees ripped apart and smashed into rocks. People said the force that hit Langtang was like an atomic bomb.
When we reached the valley where the avalanche had swept away the whole village, it took us 45 to 60 minutes just to walk across. Prayer flags everywhere, for the hundreds of people who never made it out. Someone's boots, backpacks, jackets, still lying on the trail.
All of us were shocked. Nobody talked much.
And still, the mountains were the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.
That day, I made a promise to myself: explore every part of this country. Never leave. I'm still on it.