Goecha-La Trek Day Seven and Eight

After trekking back through the now sunlit Samiti Lake we are a well-deserved breakfast at camp, packed up and started out for Kokchrong. Five minutes into the hike the clear sky that we had been so grateful for showered us with the round, soft-hail-like snow we had become accustomed to at high altitude. Snow and wind blew right in our direction and we shielded our faces with sunglasses and tightened hoods. We met up with the speedy Suresh at Thangsing who told us to go on ahead since I told him I thought I remembered the way down. Luckily, our cook who came before left clear footprints in the snow which we followed closely just to make sure not to meet the fate of the infamous German hiker who, two years earlier, split from his group and was never found.
We descended back into the forest, once covered in lichen, now blanketed in a rich cover of snow. Under forest cover the storm was more bearable and the snowfall lessened the lower we hiked. AT the bottom of the hill the footprints became clearer and the gushing river led us across the three bridges to the three-room loft shack at Kokchrong where we found our faithful dzos munching grass in front and our crew brewing tea for us inside.

We didn't see Suresh again until morning, since he climbed down after dark and then early in the morning climbed back up to Thangsing to retrieve his forgotten camera. The crew got a laugh as we asked for the tent to set up in the drafty room since without it the temperature hovered around eight degrees.

The next morning we set off after breakfast along the short-cut to bypass Dzongri and take us back to Tsokha. We hiked somewhat leisurely to Phedang Meadows through rhododendron forest full of the colorful magpies and blood pheasants we missed at higher trails. Suresh would come and go, sometimes surprising us from the forest above the path where he had scurried to take a picture of a bird or pick up a piece of rubbish left by a thoughtless hiker ("dirty people" he would say). The lower we got the more vegetation we spotted: bright lavender blossoms, the occasional magnolia, or, my favorite, the yet unidentified green patch of shiny moss like a tightly woven fern. Finally, after we passed some fresh trekkers making their way up to Dzongri, whom we envied for their look of naive enthusiasm and their smell of soap and water, we were rewarded with the many rhododendrons that had blossomed while we were up top: hot pink, baby pink, white (which we were told are poisonous), purple, scarlet.

The muddy path became muddier as it started to rain and we covered with ponchos and took our time coming down. Tskoha was a welcome sight, as was the comfy, but still drafty hut where we ate dinner by candlelight and relaxed to the sound of dzos, ponies and cows grazing in the mist below the now far away mountains.