First week of expedition

I’m sitting in my bed in the closest lodge to the wolves with a belly full of Sherpa stew. The locals, who know me from my last visit, treat me really well. I’m the only person here and probably will be until I leave. It’s off the beaten track so it’s very unlikely they will get any guests. They cook me meals while I’m here which is expensive but it feels good to be supporting such a poor family.

I could cook for myself and it would be way cheaper but I’ll get plenty of chance to do that in my tent. A mother and daughter operate the lodge, and the father is coming next week with his yaks. The mother doesn’t speak English very well but the daughter translates. She is very sweet and has the most adorable smile. It’s difficult to have dinner though because they sit and stare at me while I eat. They don't mean to be rude, it’s just in their culture but it's difficult for some people, myself included.

For the most part of my expedition, I’m going to be 1000 meters higher in my tent, it’s going to be lonely and isolated but it’s absolutely beautiful up there. I just keep pretending that my soul is a real person and is sitting here beside me, smiling laughing and then hugging. It’s even got so bad that when I talk to camera I say “We”. I guess we are constantly affectionate with our souls since they are as close to our hearts as anybody would get, physically, emotionally and spiritually. They know our deepest desires and darkest secrets.

I'm not sure if they happy about our desires and secrets but perhaps the desires come from within, maybe from a previous life; Who knows? I guess it's like spending too much time with a best friend, we start finding out things about each other, and the masks come off. If you can get through the bumps you are both closer than ever because you understand each other’s strengths and weaknesses, and you can move forward without any expectations, uncertainty, confusion or anxiety. That's certainly what I have experienced with regards to my soul, and my best friend. Although saying that, we never stop learning about each other because we are constantly learning about ourselves, we are constantly evolving, and that's the point.

My body is now fully acclimated so I can now push hard to find the wolves, at least until about 5,200 meters; higher than that I’ll have to give my body a day or so to acclimate. I’m over a lot of the heartache and emptiness that I felt the first month, so now I can fully embrace the journey. I feel like I’ve been through a gauntlet of emotions and it’s not to say they won’t come back, but for now I’m at peace. Maybe the stubborn little boy in me is sleeping or he is silenced with fear. Most likely we’ve just become good friends again and tolerate each other because all we have is each other.

This little lodge reminds me of somewhere in Ireland or Scotland where the locals literally survive on the bare necessities and a very simplistic life. The buildings are made of stone so they’re always cold. The locals tend to their cattle, pick their potatoes, collect the yak poop to make their evening fires and that’s it, that’s all it is.

I’ve come to realize that a lot of the locals have yaks at high altitude just so they can burn the poop. They leave it out in the fields to dry and then burn it for cooking, it’s the only thing to burn at this high altitude so it makes sense.

I help them from time to time with the yaks and the cooking but they don’t like it when I help. I know the feeling so I can certainly relate; for the most part I just film everything. Out here, me and my camera are good team members, it's almost like having a companion... almost!

There are yaks everywhere but not for long, it's becoming winter and the farmers will soon start descending to lower altitudes. It's too cold on the high slopes and it becomes difficult for them to find their yaks. The notion that wolves are an additional potential threat inspires the farmers to abandon their yak farms until spring.