Goecha-La Trek Day Two

I was thrilled to find porridge at Gupta's for breakfast-the perfect way to begin a 16 kilometer uphill journey. After breakfast, Topden introduced us to our crew, who would later prove to be amazingly efficient, kind and helpful over the next nine days and whom I hope will forgive me for most likely butchering the spelling of their names: Bibi, the cook who offered meals such as rice with dal, alu gobi, parathas and rice pudding or porridge, omelets, spiced potatoes, and toast with jam; Sukmansubeh, the porter extraordinaire who could carry heavy loads in a basket strapped around his forehead; Bhasunta, another porter of only 18 who also helped Bibi in the kitchen and delivered our meals and tea; and Purna, Bhasunta's brother, only of 17, who drove the dzos (yak-cows) that carried our bags and the crew's gear, always with a smile.
We started off after Topden stopped at the Kanchenjunga Conservation Committee's office to make sure that our permits were in order. The beginning of the hike wove through the village of Yuksam while gorgeous children walked to school, the boys in ties and sweaters, the girls in knee socks and pigtails, all giggling at what Topden said was Jan's (aka "The Hulk") size. Once we left the village behind, the trail meandered through dense forest and for about two hours we didn't see much besides the rough, rocky path below our feet, though at times we caught a glimpse of the mist-covered valley to our left. We crossed a sturdy but mobile bridge over the Parekh Chu and were welcomed by a sign denoting the entrance to Kanchenjunga National Park. Before lunch at Sachin we passed several porters, dzos, stray dogs looking for friends and food and a group of Japanese senior citizens who made us ashamed that we were sweating this part of the trek. We also passed three Australian women who had gone so far as Dzongri and reported snowfall at that point.
Lunch was an amazing spread of hot orange juice, noodle soup (like really good ramen), uttapam, alu gobi and a warm banana for dessert followed by milk tea which we ended up sharing with a German-Indian couple who had just gone up to Tsokha for the day and told us not to miss the rhododendrons and magnolias at the Bakhim caves.
Rain washed over the remaining four hours of the day's journey, the majority of which was an achingly steep uphill climb. We were grateful to stop for tea at the Bakhim Forest Rest House where we caught a glimpse of Yuksam, where we had started, far in the distance. The wild strawberry switchbacks leading up to Tsokha were a refreshing change from the primarily green forest cover which we had seen all day. About half a mile from Tsokha we turned a corner and Topden pointed out the range of mountains towards which we were headed, a line of five snowy peaks, with Mount Pandim in the foreground and we realized that we were in the Himalayas.
The village of Tsokha, which had been given to a group of Tibetan refugees in the 1960s by the last chogyal of Sikkim but whom were asked to remove to Yuksam six months prior, is a charming village of wooden houses with aluminum roofs and wooden pens to hold cows, dzos, and horses. Along one hill, facing the range, two chortens stand amidst grazing cattle and the orange of sunset splashed against Mount Pandim. We ate a quiet and delicious dinner in our modest and drafty hut and easily fell fast asleep.