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When your fingers stick to the door handle – it is seriously cold.
Our first winter here, six years ago, brought colder temperatures yet I don’t remember that it seemed quite as frigid as this.
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It is true that I had not yet started taking photographs to the extent I do now, but I have always been a great admirer of snow and ice, so it’s hard to believe I would not have noticed.
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This sort of phenomenon requires a particular combination of cold temperature and moisture, so perhaps they simply did not happen in our earlier winters.
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There was none of this the year of my infamous ice-sculpture
Certainly I would have noticed it then.
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This morning I remembered to check the garage windows and I managed a few snaps before my fingers froze.
Last year I invested in a pair of gloves that allow me to operate the iPhone camera, but even clad with those my hands soon became quite painful.
The pain wears off soon enough, but in that condition manipulating a small device is impossible.
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How do wildlife photographers do it?
How did the polar explorers cope?
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Perhaps it’s all to do with mindset.
When preparing for our journey to Tibet I read alarming information in the guidebook about cold taps in the courtyard (for bathroom facilities), the necessity of drinking frequently (with toilet facilities few and far between), frigid temperatures, altitude sickness…
Those are the ones I remember.
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While I mercifully never had to bare my bottom to be frosted, I certainly encountered the cold tap after a very drafty night beneath an odoriferous quilt in an auberge where, far from removing clothes to sleep, I actually added as many layers as I could.
After crossing the border from Nepal at the Friendship Bridge, we learned that the road was closed due to a landslide. Our next bus was some distance away and – up.
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I don’t remember how far it was. Less than a thousand feet but at least several hundred and no, that wasn’t us carrying our suitcases, but it was the route we took.
It was a bit steep.
Halfway up, despite the cold temperature, I became quite warm and shed my gloves and scarf, placing them in my camera bag as it went past.
I never saw the gloves again, but I didn’t care as I thought they would be much better appreciated by whoever acquired them. They had my blessing.
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Getting the baggage organised.
We became good friends with our young British tour guide. There were many occasions in which he could have lost his sense of humour, but he never showed it.
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Thus loaded, the sherpas shinned up that slope with no trouble at all.
They moved much faster than we did carrying not a thing.
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One of Tim’s bags went up on the back of this young lad.
You see why I was not upset about losing my gloves.
I don’t mean it was he who took them, I just mean I was happy to contribute anything I could for the help we received.
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We all provided great entertainment for the children.
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Once up the mountain we had choices. Sleep there or continue driving in the dark on dangerous roads with just the possibility of a hotel.
We stayed, opting for the bunkhouse vs a floor. In the morning we brushed teeth at the courtyard tap.
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Setting off after a fabulous breakfast of cold toast. We still had some walking to do and we hadn’t got far before the sherpas came belting past us urging us to “go quickly”.
All night I’d heard ominous rumblings in the mountains and a house we passed had a hole through its middle, so I decided to pick up the pace.
Tim trotted behind me and catching up with the sherpas, we turned to look just as a huge boulder bounced off the road where we had just been.
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It was cold. I was glove-less. The food and facilities were grim, the days were long and I didn’t give a rat’s ass.
To be honest, I don’t think I even noticed any discomfort for a moment, because I had made it to Tibet, my lifelong desire.
Mindset.
Thank you, Carolyn, for the inspirational post! You are right, you can move a mountain with the right mindset. I understand your desire to reach Tibet because I am still dreaming of walking in the Himalayas, the wild parts of course. As always, your actions are devoted to helping the needy. I love your photography as long as I am nowhere near the snow and cold. Weather being so changeable you will need gloves even in your relatively civilized place. I certainly need gloves here.
Joanna
Once again, showing the amazing art provided by nature and the amazing resilience of a people surviving in a hostile environment!
Yes! I’ve always had such a soft life.
Wow Carolyn, what a story! I really enjoyed this one and your amazing photos. I’m always in awe of the sherpas/porters everywhere – they’re amazingly fit but I never realised they started so young!
Glove-less? You’re crazy! 😉
Glad you made it to Tibet, and have wonderful photos to cherish and share with us.
G.
Fascinating photos! How about eyelashes sticking together or when the inside of the nose hurts after a sharp inhale? Yes, winter is here in the Northern Hemisphere. That can only mean one thing. Happy Holidays to you and everyone! 🌟
Thank you and the same to you.
What an adventure. I am happy for you that you made it to Tibet and realised your wish to see it. Here in Beetley it got as warm as 55F today, though in all honesty it didn’t feel it outside. Strangely unseasonal weather! I hope you have a lovely ‘Cat-mus’ tomorrow.
Best wishes, Pete.