the parvati valley.

a winding ride through the forest along the parvati river brought the group to a small town named kasol. the group hopped out of the jam packed jeep - feeling a little nauseous- in a ghost of a town at five in the morning. kasol was empty and no guest houses seemed to welcome the five-some. at least the rasta making beauty salon was open... "i don't need a got damn weave, i need a bed," explained bryn, as the group marched on across a bridge over one of the small tributaries into the parvati river and up a hill to find a guest house overlooking the city and river.

after slurping up some tea, taking in the views and finding a new puppy dog companion at guesthouse pick number one, india, randy & avi headed off to find something more reasonably priced, while jose and bryn napped. pick number two was considerably cheaper due to the shared bathroom & shower. since hot water flowed in the plenty from the shared shower head, the group was more then happy to pay the lesser price and stay at a homey guest house owned by a single indian mother of two who brewed fresh chai every morning for the group of backpackers who kicked it on the porch reading, smoking & playing music. the guest house had history and tradition, as seen on the walls scattered with retro pictures of large groups of israelis, american's, indians, and canadians hippying out in the valley that is parvati valley.

it should be said before the group continues their adventures in the small villages throughout parvati valley that the area is known far and wide for their mass production of "charas" or hashish. and as the group marched along the trails and rivers edges they couldn't go five feet without finding a fresh cannabis plant growing or hindu babas smoking the hashish that is widely known as the best in india.

the first day the group familiarized themselves with the town, eating at a few local restaurants, bargaining with street vendors, and avoiding the rain by playing cards inside a great little place with floor seating called greenhouse. greenhouse played a wide variety of music with the only similarity being the extremely sexually explicit lyrics. the group left the greenhouse giggling like fifth graders learning sex ed. slowly discovering that the parvati valley just might be one of their favorite stops in india.

that night the group hiked across the sketch suspension bridge over the raging river, all silently worrying about the bridge collapsing and being swept away by the tears of shiva that sped underneath their feet. with small flashlights, they continued along down the river towards the loud sound of trance music playing on a nearby hilltop. there, they hiked up to find a large tent cafe packed with young indians & foreigners; always a great combo. the group sat down with three indians in their early twenties from kashmir and the two groups got to know each other. each sharing knowledge of their respective lands, the five-some listened intently about kashmir and leh, as they all planned on going further north to visit these interesting areas filled with conflict. soon, the once welcomed trance music became unbearably loud and put an end to any conversation, so the five-some decided to find a different venue.

the next day, while walking through the city after lunch, randy and avi spotted their sadu baba friend who they had met in rishikesh. this specific baba had been honoring a vow of silence when they first crossed paths, so naturally they were very excited to learn that he was now speaking. and in decent english. the group was invited by the baba to come down to a special area that he and other spiritual figures spend their time eating, smoking and praying. so the group made their way off the trail, to a place that was mysteriously described to them as a 'cave near the river.' upon their arrival they found just that; a large, self cemented ground outside of a small cave about 20 paces away from the rushing river. the baba greeted them with open arms, a smile and a full chillum. they all sat in a circle, talked, and randy even indulged in the questionable looking tea brewing over the open flame. after they were all comfortable, the baba showed each of them around the small cave and the shrine inside. meeting many new indian friends and speaking the most broken of english, the group headed back to town, satisfied with another wonderful indian experience.

the rest of the time spent in kasol was filled with eating, drinking, world cup football, and a whole lot of swimming in freezing cold rivers and basking in the sun when it showed itself. the group hiked up the river one day to find a nice little spot to lay out in the rays, read, and hollow out coconut bowls. avi and bryn plunged into the icy, fast moving water, fighting their way against the strong river as if attempting to conquer mother nature herself.

at the end of their last day in kasol, the group arrived back at their guest house surprised to find streamers, music, & dancing... an indian birthday party! their host's little nephew was celebrating his seventh birthday and they pulled out all the stops. the kids were having a blast and loved seeing foreigners file through.

although kasol was the main town in the parvati valley, the group had heard it was far from the best. and after getting their fill of kasol, the group left the bulk of their bags at the guest house, keeping the rooms they had previously rented and taking only a small backpack full of clothing and other necessities for the upcoming week of small village hopping.

taking a bus in the late afternoon, the starting five made their way along a very narrow road, squeaking around each corner, sending gravel fly into the surging river that lay 200 feet below. the allotted time scheduled for the bus ride was around one hour, but the journey was extended when the group found themselves in a lineup awaiting an avalanche cleanup. once off the bus, the five-some started walking along rocky dirt roads towards a dam construction site, around big puddles of muddy water and up through the thick brush of marijuana plants surrounding herds of cattle with supplies on their backs, until they found the first guesthouse filled with israelis, a pool table, picnic tables, and special chocolate balls.

indulging in some delicious chocolate goodies, mazzaa and arguing over the rules of pool started off the groups stay in kulga. feeling sky high after meeting the other guests and filling their bellies, the five got comfortable in their respective rooms that cost them 100 rupees a night per room, or about two american dollars. over the next couple days randy, avi, jose, & bryndia all continued meeting fellow backpackers, mountain locals, and watching world cup soccer. busying themselves during the day by hiking, finding huge cliffs, giant pot fields and seeing beautiful people working their land while loving life made their stay in kulga wonderful.

the small town of kulga was overly enjoyed for a couple of days so the fivesome decided to head over to the next small village of pulga. after taking some hot bucket showers, and getting directions from the owner of the kulga guest house the group hiked down one big hill and up another. bryn snagged some chocolate balls for the long journey and after a stop to take a dip, snap some amazing photos and enjoy the beauty surrounding them, the group found themselves at their next homestead in pulga.

the pulga guest house was a giant log cabin housing many other backpackers from all around the world. a restaurant owned by the guest house stoood right next door and both buildings looked out over the small village below. just past the guest house and the restaurant was a large open park area that continued on all the way to a waterfall and river. after eating a thali, the group started their hike to check out the forest and waterfall. they soon stumbled upon some other travels so the larger group continued toward the waterfall & enjoyed a quite afternoon next to the noisy waterfall.

pulga was a quite town but significantly larger then kulga. it was disconnected, removed from the business of modern life, in a very nice way. there were only two computers connected to the internet in the entire city and no cars anywhere. the world cup games were broadcasted via satellite, which was a nice way for the group to start and end the nights, while during the day they explored the city watching the people interact, work, and even pave a new road. everyone had their hand in helping the community and everyone had smiles on their faces.

when the furious five finished in pulga they had to say their sad fair wells to one of the greatest additions to the group, jose, the best ambassador of the south american country of columbia they had ever known. so after the hugs kisses and well wishes on his future adventure to china the group gathered their things and prepared for the long long hike to khirganga.

before heading out on the four hour hike, bryn began to feel pains in his stomach. passing it off as upset from breakfast, their journey would continue as planned. the group decision was made to make the trek on their own, avoiding the small cost for a porter to lead the way through the prickly forest. bryndia, randy & avi made great time until about halfway through when bryn's upset stomach turned into a stomach bug. the rest of the hike consisted of constant breaks where bryn would backtrack to rid his body of the bug in one of two ways...

finally at the mountain town of khirganga the group made there way up the grassy hill to the first guest house where they would spend the next four nights. calling khirganga a village is a stretch. the place is more of a collection of tarps piled together to resemble shelters at the top of a treacherous climb. there are, as jonathan nicholas might say, more cows than people in khirganga. the people like it that way. 'so, most likely, do the cows.' the holy animals are the only life form consistently moving in the space. for a lot of the day, the few people who live there permanently are hiding in their homes or wandering mysteriously throughout the thick forest that surrounds the place on three sides. climbing up the hill, you pass three guest houses, a collection of tents and tarps serving as homes for residents, and one solitary 'store' that sells, really, toilet paper, candles, and oreos. at the top of the tiny path lies the draw of this tiny town: the hot springs. pouring from an unseen source on the mountain comes scalding hot water, rushing fast into a large pool dug and paved by the residents. within the pool, one corner is walled completely with rotting wooden planks eight feet high. this private section is where the women were allowed to soak, hidden from the scathing eyes of scandalous men.

the guest house was agreed upon immediately. fifty rupees a night for a part of the long roofed tent divided into rooms by stretched tarps. in the middle was a large open air room containing three iron stoves that the guests would gather around during the day. the group dropped their belongings off and headed straight up to the hot springs for a soak after their hike.

here, they found raya and shani, two israeli girls who randy & avi had been consistently running into around india and nepal. they confirmed that they were, also, staying at the cheapest guest house, and would meet the group for dinner in the communal room that evening. for the next hour, india soaked her tired body in the privacy of her own special hot springs while the boys talked shop in the larger part of the pool.

exhausted from the hike, and feeling sicker than he wished to admit, bryn excused himself early and fell into a deep fourteen hour sleep. india, being the doting girlfriend that she is, joined him. and although bryn woke up feeling refreshed and healthy, india woke up with bed bug bites all over her face and neck. needless to say, she switched mattresses the following night.

on that first morning in khirganga, the thick storm clouds rolled in. and for over 48 straight hours, it didn't let up. not for one moment. the sound became a constant humming on the tin roof of the communal room. the solitary sweet french woman running the guest house temporarily, as a favor to her indian boyfriend who had hiked down into town for supplies, became overwhelmed quickly by the fact that her boyfriend was stuck down in kasol due to flooding, and her two dozen guests could not leave because of the dangerous condition of the steep, wet path. the two full days spent on the mountain passed leisurely. card games. conversations. india finished two full novels. bryn beat avi at backgammon too many times. raya celebrated a birthday with chocolate cake baked by india and their french hostess. and each and every guest house guest shared their story and their journeys in a sort of stranded camp fire style desperation. oh, and, of course, the hot springs were continuously visited.

finally, in the early afternoon of their fourth day, the rain began to let up. deciding to be brave and take the risk on the potentially flooded solitary path down (more because of the fact that india & bryn had a flight to catch in delhi in a matter of hours than anything else), avi joined bryn & india in the journey down the mountain, while randy remained to wait out for a little sunshine.

despite all the desperate warnings of their wonderful french friend and her sherpas, the three made it down the path quickly and easily. the landscape had changed dramatically. where only a few days before had stood a green canvas of firs as far as you could see, the mountain was now dotted with dozens of newly formed waterfalls, cutting through the foliage, creating a whole new system of streams and rivers. avi & bryndia crossed them carefully but excitedly. the rushing water beneath dry skies was a refreshing change.

reaching the pass to kalga, bryndia hugged their friend avi goodbye, as he had to return for a night in kalga to pick up belongings he had left there earlier in the week. bryn & india made the last leg of the trek on their own, eventually finding a man with a car who agreed to drive them the last thirty minutes to kasol. here, they returned to their familiar guest house where there were excruciatingly disappointed to learn that the cities water supply was off due to the storm that had hit them, as well, over the past few days. the seven days without a shower was beginning to take a toll on the two of them. begrudgingly, bryn & india packed their heavy bags and walked into town to watch a late world cup game and wait for the early morning meeting they had arranged with a taxi driver who would drive them the ten hours to delhi.

unfortunately, the english to hindi language barrier came into full effect that night. for whatever reason, their driver did not show up at the meeting spot at their planned two am departure time. panic hit. the two would miss their flight if they didn't leave by six am at the latest. and with no phone, and no contact number for their driver, bryn & india felt very, literally, stuck. back to their guest house, the two tossed and turned restlessly until the first light shone in their window. grumpy, dirty, the two put their bags back on their backs and trudged towards the meeting spot with no plan and little hope. without an excuse, a reason, or an apology, their driver was now sitting in his car at the spot, quickly loaded their belongings in to his old van, and the three began a hot and uncomfortable drive to the new delhi airport where they would leave india, despite their extreme desire to stay, and begin their explorations of southeast asia in thailand.

dharamsala, mcleod ganj, bhagsu.

as optimistic as bryndia had been about their first overnight trip on an indian public bus, after an hour into the twelve hour journey, the pair was forgetting why it was they had decided not to wait for the private bus that would have left the next night. the public bus was oversold and overcrowded. men squatted in the aisle, pushing their shoulders against each others backs. the lack of air conditioning forced every window wide open, spilling huge amounts of sand and dust into every passengers face. (the experienced ones had brought bandanas, which they wore tied around their face as they slept.) the seats were small, sticky, and made of stiff plastic. and because the bus rode so low to the ground, the bags were hooked onto a bar on the top of the bus. at each stop throughout the night, bryn would cross his fingers and climb the metal ladder attached to the back of the bus to make sure his backpack hadn't been flung off during a sharp curve. as the sun rose in oranges and pinks, the bus chugged slowly up the edges of the kangra valley, the air cooled and filled with a familiar scent of coniferous trees, and at eight o clock in the morning, bryn & india stepped off the bus and into the mountain city of dharamsala.

they quietly followed a buddhist monk, whom they had been taking their cues from since delhi, and boarded a second, smaller bus that headed a few more miles up the mountain to the tiny community of bhagsu.

the town of bhagsu is built on a sharp incline. each sidewalk - and that's all there is, as cars are not allowed past the main square at the base of the town - is a direct upwards slant, so much that your calves ache after five minutes of walking straight. luckily, there are enough reasons to stop along the way. tiny stores selling tie dye tee shirts, handmade leather purses, spices and incense. there are dozens of cafes smelling of chai and charras, each boasting 'the original bhagsu cake' or 'delicious indian pastries', each filled with long haired expats from countries around the globe, coaxing you in with scratchy voices, dirty hands, gap toothed smiles. the town continues like this for a half mile upwards before you reach a fork in the road. a giant ravine in the mountain cuts the town quickly in half. climbing the stairs on the left side will lead you to bright guest houses and hidden garden terraces. ascending the hill on the right will take you to more dingy guest houses and hard floored cafes beside dense forests, each one piled with pillows to crumple up on casually.

and right in the center of the main strip stands the most elaborately gaudy hindu temple that bryn or india had ever seen. walking into the small open air building, your senses are attacked by smokey incense burning and towering brightly colored statues of snakes baring their fangs and two animals, a crocodile and a lion, with their mouths opened wide to reveal sets of staircases. stooping, you enter one of the animals mouths to be brought into a theme park like tunnel, of which you have to crawl through, to find caves holding electronic idols that sing and dance. when the maze ends, you are spit onto the roof of the temple where more colorful, larger-than-life statues join you in gazing down at the main street of bhagsu. 

bryn & india chose a guest house with a restaurant filled with israelis on the main stretch of road and set off in search of their friends from rishikesh, randy & avi. when they found them, strolling down the hill on their way to get lunch, they were accompanied by a tall, dark and handsome colombian named jose. and thus, the fearsome foursome became a fivesome.

bryn & india's first night in the mountains of india was spent sipping lemon ginger honey teas in a treehouse cafe built out of bamboo with randy, avi, jose, and an assortment of other international travelers.

the next morning, the five met at an open air restaurant which randy and avi claimed to have the best homemade yogurt and muesli in all of india. the place was packed with young israelis and a few south americans gathered around a table stacked with dirty dishes, banging on bongo drums and guitars and hand carved bamboo flutes. the five sat down and randy instructed bryn & india how to place their order. 'sansu!' he called back into the tiny kitchen. a squat, jolly indian man in a greasy white tank top stuck his head out from behind the curtain and smiled so broadly that his eyes squinted up into two small lines. 'yes, my friend,' he called back. 'can we have five fresh fruit mueslis please? and five chais too?' 'of course, my friend!' sansu called back loudly. and he ducked back into the kitchen. thirty minutes later, the group was digging into huge bowls piled with large cubes of curd, sweet almonds and shaved coconut, and juicy pomegranate seeds, bright slices of pineapple and plum, and crunchy apples.

the rest of the morning was spent idly being educated on the rules of backgammon as sansu ducked in and out of the kitchen, shouting friendly encouragement at whoever was losing that game.

that afternoon, the five friends walked the two kilometers down hill to the more major city of mcleod ganj, the headquarters and home for his holiness the dalai lama and his fellow tibetan buddhist refuge followers. in mcleod, the friends walked down the busy streets lined with tibetan women selling shiny silver and turquoise jewelry, each sitting modestly, quietly, on stools next to their husband, friends, or children. here was the first noticeable difference between tibetan and indian culture. every other market that bryn & india had been to in india was filled with people hawking their goods loudly. 'please, sir, come look here, at my scaves, my silver, my spices. no, no, please, beautiful lady, you must look here, best quality around, in my shop, now.' the tibetans barely breathed as bryn looked at their tables, smiled shyly and silently as india picked up their bracelets and earrings. the shopping experience was slower and easier than even one in america would feel.

when the group walked into the huge buddhist temple, the official home of the tibetan government in exile, in mcleod ganj, the sight flushed them with an unshakeable happy feeling. hundreds and hundreds of tibetans of every age all kneeled facing a platform of maroon robed monks, singing their prayers loudly. dozens of temple attendants weaved their way throughout the crowd, pouring sweet smelling tea and savory broth into chipped cups in the hands of the tibetans who smiled and bowed their heads in thanks before taking small sips of each. the alters that dotted the edges of the temple were stacked high with gifts for buddha. cookies, cakes, sweet juices, were offered to their gods in piles five feet tall. and behind all this was the breathtaking view of the deep valley covered with thousands of tall green cedars leading up to the staggering peaks of snow covered mountain tops.

after wandering for hours, the group was just about to leave, when a massive rain cloud covered the mountain and unloaded sheets of hard rain on them. with the rain pounding in time with the monks singing, the moment seemed perfect.

the following day, and every day after that, the group would meet in the morning at sansu's place for breakfast and backgammon, and spend the afternoons wandering throughout the towns, the deserted sides of the forests, and the loud but relaxed cafes.

after a few days of this pattern, and in need of a change, the five decided to tackle the steep hike up to the top of the mountain to visit the tiny community of tents at the summit called triund. setting off early one morning with light backpacks filled with heavy sweatshirts and socks, randy, avi, jose, bryn & india ascended the mountain slowly, stopping frequently to wander off the trail, discover hidden, breathtaking views, and share a chillum and cookie break sitting in a circle on the grass. tiny tarps would cover ancient looking fireplaces along the way, where a quiet sherpa would offer them chai or chips to fuel their energy and promise them, 'not too far more.' after five hours of tree climbing and trekking, the group reached the summit, sweaty but happy.

the view... well... it speaks for itself.

after only minutes of sitting on the chilly ground did the group of them realize how cold it was up there! therefore, the couldn't disguise their worry when they discovered that the tents being offered to them were either expensive or full. piling on their extra clothing, the five mountain climbers set off through an endless herd of mountain goats and fuzzy sheep to find a cabin on the edge of the summit that they rented for a few hundred rupees. with no bathroom, no electricity, but a plethora of blankets, the group played cards by candle light before randy, avi & jose curled up together on the bed while bryn & india cuddled close in a corner on the floor.

the sunrise woke them early, and the group set off in the light rain, through the herd of baaing and bleeting, for a breakfast of toast and tea at one of the two roofed stoves on the mountain. as they climbed down the mountain, the rain stopped, the heat returned, and the group arrived back in bhagsu feeling like conquering kings.

the next day was a return to the routine. only with a stealth mission run by avi to secure surprise whiskey for the following day's party, and a lazy afternoon learning how to poi from a group of sweet british girls on a shaded grassy terrace.

the next morning bryn woke up to a pile of presents. black linen shorts! a hand stitched fanny pack in lakers colors! jack daniels whiskey! happy golden birthday, boy. twenty four never looked so good.

breakfast at sansu's was accompanied by off key celebratory singing and hugs from everyone. the rain set in on the mountain early, and the group, joined by israelis who (of course, of course) shared mutual friends with india in new york, set up camp around the hammocks on the roofed platform balcony at their guest house. tea was drank. backgammon was taught. music was played. books were read. card games were learned. chillums were passed. and the rain poured down around them, creating a wall of water. that night, the group took their new friend guy up on his invitation to a mysterious concert he had heard of in town. braced with umbrellas, the group headed down the hill and followed a small crowd to a large carpeted hall. the group clustered themselves against the back wall and watched in awe as a tiny portuguese girl performed original interpretative dances to two african drummers and a guitarist slash dj. the music was international, thumping, beat banging. by the last song, the crowd was up and shaking along next to the performers.

it was the next morning that the group decided it was time to move on. randy, avi, jose, bryn & india had decided to rent a car to drive them the eight hours across himachel pradesh to the village of kasol in the parvati valley. but first, there were things to take care of. the group headed back to mcleod ganj, where jose had met an indian teen running a shop of godly statues and detailed textiles. taking a liking to him, and his products, jose had proceeded to buy out half his stock for his friends and family in colombia. the group joined jose at the store and sat while the fifteen year old boy told them the story of how he was single handedly supporting his family and wrapped jose's gifts to be shipped to south america. bryn & india, after traveling for so many months, had also accumulated a large amount of goodies, and so the three of them were taken to a dhl by the young boy and helped in the difficult and nerve racking task of sending a package home to oregon from india.

while the others remained in town, bryn & india headed back up the road to bhagsu. but before they were past mcleods boarder, they were stopped by a thick crowd of children rushing across the street shouting. intrigued, the two turned around to see a gorgeous pink and grey elephant lumbering down the road towards them. sadus were walking around his large legs, shaking their tin cups filled with coins, offering a picture with the elephant for a donation. bryn swapped stories with a sadu as the two joined the slow crowd around the elephant for a while before tiring of the countless kids stepping on their heels and picked up their pace to hit bhagsu before a similar chaos would erupt.

that night, the group met with their big backpacks, bryn & india's both considerably lighter, and ate their final sweet slice of bhagsu cake while watching world cup matches. at midnight, their old suv showed up at the front of the cafe, and the fearsome fivesome braced themselves for the dark and bumpy ride to the parvati valley.