Badass IS definitely fatass

I made it to Nagtibba. All the way to the tippy-top. It hurt like a mofo going up. Then up a bit more. Then in usual Indian style, but Indian mountian-guide style, "we are only half-way there today," I just knew I was in for a world of flogging. A world I paid to get flogged and see. So I sat back in my shoes, chewed my teeth off to the roots and said nothing. Easier for the root canal anyway. Might as well enjoy the rhodendron in bloom, the oak trees, the Himalayan woodpeckers, the rare species of high Himalayan ox and cow (at what elevation do these frackin things stop?), the weird prickly shrubbry with no berries that kinda act like jumping cholla-wanna-be's, the freak-me-out monkeys that may be 2% off from humans but they stare at us and there are more of them than us.

And a hilarious story from Kuldeep, my guide. He says growing up, one of his friends was chucking rocks at this monkey. Just like a kid would chuck rocks at a dog, cat, beaver, frog, wild boar, toothless-backwoods banjo player, etc... The monkey had enough and waited until the kid was plenty tired. I guess it's difficult to tag an animal when it can swing, jump, run, bounce, grimmace, hang upside down, all while eating a banana. And that dang monkey walked on over and slapped the kid upside the head about three times. Three times. Kuldeep says that type of brown monkey is known for mainly biting and tearing its victim's into submission. Now that's entertainment. For confirmation of other monkey business, check the WWW for that monkey/tiger video where those monkeys swing around and slap these tiger cubs. It's pretty funny. I was pulling for the tiger cubs, but no luck.

Oh yeah, I digressed. How weird. So I made the top. That, as Hillary said, is the optional part. Going down is mandatory. Oh so what a bitch that was. Trail? Ha. Cobbles. Loose. Dust. Cow shit slime. Pounding for something like 12 straight miles down in one day. I think I'm going to activate my old mountain biking mantra: "I'd rather bike it uphill twice than go downhill once." I kept think of Scotty. What would Scotty do? He'd probably bike part of it. I think Krafty could bike part of it. I think Tank could bike part of it. I think I could bike part of it. I know we would ALL go nuclear splat over most of it. Good times!

Ahh, but the view from the top! I can't upload here in Rishikesh - something about spiritual center of the universe. Story later. We weren't supposed to see Nanda Devi. It was supposed to be shrouded in clouds. Way too far away. Well, it wasn't. And at 7,816 meters (a 7-thousander!?, are you for real?), that's a peak taller than any Swede or German I've ever seen. Something that tall - and it wasn't the only peak around. The entire local Himalaya region, including Thalay Sagar (6904 meters - reading about since I was a small coconut), is like a brand new wood saw - sharp and waiting to rip you up if climb and don't pay attention.

It's been about three days in Rishikesh and I am now just learning how to walk down the ghats without wondering whether I'll need to activate my emergency medical evacuation coverage. I keep repeapting, "don't keep your tongue between your teeth." That would suck to fall and bite my tongue off. A bit of yoga helped. Or did it? The instructor asks what your weaknesses are - now I know - exploitation. Makes for good humor in the class.

OK - the dude wants to lock up now. My sadan locks up at ten then I sleep on the street. So I'm outta here for now.

Ciao bella!

Lasagne with one pound of ground beef
posole
lemon pasta
flame-broiled tender marinated steak
INO #1
Mountain bike in the Santa Cruz hills and back P-town ridge.