3 day hike from Dimaluo on the Nu Jiang river to Cizhong on the parallel Mekong river (across the Biluo snow mountain which summits at 4652m).

It has been a mere 3 days and 2 nights on the mountainside and I have learnt so much about myself, Prue, our relationship, my relationship with a guide, the amount of respect I can hold for a mule and the exact reason why I have lugged a bloody sleeping bag a third the way around the globe.

A late start after a grand bowl of noodle soup with eggs and tomatos (thanks again to Alous wife) makes me think that today cannot be quite so bad on the hiking front. Theres little in the way of organisation and none of us are sure where we should be or who with, either way we hand over 1150 yuan between us, thats around 100 dollars each for the 3 day and 3 night adventure from Alous guesthouse over to the other side, the other side of what, we don't qute know.

Leaving at 10 with Alous words ringing in my mind 'a tough one today, 11 hours' we meander through the village lane and find ourselves rapidly off the beaten track within minutes, clouds are hanging low in the sky (or at 1800m we are just high). The mules are leading the pack which contains three westerners, one head guide and two joyfully bounce/walking young lads. Theres a remix to Titanic on repeat and we are all light hearted. We quite suddenly leave the path to take a right turn and here lies before me what I dread most, up and up and up and up and... well, I can't see any further than that but I can bloody well guess. Prue and I have distributed our one bag, I put my first foot forward witht the larger of the 2 and feel ready to take it face on. An hour in, at a sprightly pace and I am slowly starting to feel the blood thumping and breath labouring, so very typical of me who can walk upon flat ground for hours and notice nothing strained. Prue and I swap bags and as I watchthe toher two spring further away with each step it dawns on me just what I have set out to achieve.

Blame dengue from 1 ½ years ago, blame the virus I have in my system, lung scarring from one of my bouts of bronchitis, dormant malaria affecting my blood. Or, just accept that I suffer from good old fashioned unfitness and that it what I had to do, but it is a bitter pill to swallow. As you watch your peers breathe in all the fears that they had about such an emourmous feat and use it to propel themselves up the 1900m mountainside to 3700m while your heart pounds and your tendons at the back of your knees throb and you can imagine the bitterness that welled up inside. I cried three times before lunch, two of which crippled me to sobs, with my lungs bursting the only option was for me to return, but somehow I would stand up and move 10 pacees until breathless once again. Upon stoppping my breathing rapidly resumed back to its norm and I felt immediately recovered, but four or five steps in and Id be feeling the full weight of the task once more.

Although I urged her on Prue stayed close, there were several reasons for this, one being that I wanted her to have a challenge but also because I knew that I was becoming snappy and didn't want to be patronised while also struggling like a b****. Like some demon from below depression welled up in me, and this was both horrifying, interesting and eventually a very positive occurrence. Wasted to my absolute last we were trying to catch up with the boys before having lunch (bring snacks is the crucial piece of advice I would give to the next explorers) but that was an 8 hours of solid hiking away from breakfast. I felt that my body was stripped of everything, energy, positive resources, a will to continue and any self respect left for myself. When we are bare it is easier for our fears to rise and with every single one of them I was beaten back down into one of my lows with the ferocity of its old self.

It was with an immense joy when I found myself beginning to lift the curtains and letting the light enter within 30 mins of falling under the vicious spell. This is one of the most positive experiences, my biggest flaw apparent for all to see and yet it dissipated with each step I took and the secrets it told me rapidly became the obvious lies they were. This did not mean that the exhaustion was any easier, but the pain was clearer to me as well as the fact that this taskrelied on myself and could not be compared to others and therefore my own pace was the right pace, this made me stronger. Taking precedent in the slow group (the boys, Owain and mules long head) I convince myself on putting one foot in front of the other, but not too far in front and with this method I achieve slow progress, but progress all the same. I cannot

The sights helped my confidence and sense of achievment, each hour of stepping surrounded by epic scenery. I never once failed to notice what beauty enveloped our group with the exception of the times that my head was spent in my hands . The non english speaking guide who relieved me of my bag was a god send, although on occasion he could have refrained from whistling in order to bekon us forward, Prue also, was heavenly sent, she stood by my side through my tears and angry remarks at my self as I waded from destraught to a more enlightened, still utterly exhausted, but able to view and laugh at the more humourous aspects person.

As we collapsed for our late lunch the boiled potatoes and eggs passed round by dirty fingers were gratefully received, every one of us in our own head space and own battles (whether that being a sore back, aching knees or the initial onset of some altitude sickness) gazed in awe at the surroundings, none of us having seen anything like it before. With only another 3 hours to go, my confidence increased, not to say that my pace did oh no! Step and breathe, step and breathe, repeat for ten before stopping for more breaths playing catch up. We closed the distance between us and the snow capped mountains in the surrounding skies. Villages intertwined with the bushes, who traded places with grassy slopes from which grew pine forests frequented with splodges of yellow flowered meadows until we reached our summit at 3700m. Heavenly, I was back in my element, although 9 hours of soreness later. Now I could take on the heavier luggage once more and easily pace alongside the brook that would lead us to our new home, crossing streams scrambling down loose gravel and rocks was a breeze and it felt excellent to feel my strength return and gain some distance. We emerged in a steep valley to find that we had one more river crossing, balancing on two thin strips of logs to reach our shack for the night, from which smoke was already emerging, glorious.

A quick rinse (fully clothed) meant freezing ourselves in the spring, freshly formed from the melting snow not too far away. Toileting oneself meant finding as much shelter as you could in the bare valley, as for me I was more willing to bare all than I was to take on another hike for a more secure location. The bellowing fire was already a-glow and smoky as it was our crumbling residence was cozy and comforting. The feed of saucy tofu, mushrooms picked en route, potatos and rice kept us happy campers but ones more than ready for bed and layers as the chill set in. We were given a sleeping bag to share (another lack of communication) so it was forunate I had mine also and we curled up on our homemade pillows of clothes in plastic bags trying to keep in the warm and ignoring the wooden slabs digging into our sides... despite the exertion of the day I fet that valium was the main reason I received some sleep.

On a side note, looking back I am actually proud of myself for this day, not the fittest person there by far but I fought against my self disbelief and turned into someone who could overcome 8 hours of exhaustion, 3 hours of nausea when my limits were fraught, oh and we made it one hour earlier than designated, hurrah! I will always remember what a vicious day this was, the physically hardest of any I have ever had, what a b****, what an achievment, what an amazing untouched place to reach.

Day 2- Goodmorning warm fire, yes please to seconds from a steaming bowl of noodles soup with more potatos (easy on a fully starch and carbs meals boys). Cold clouds right outside and a serious threat of rain meant nothing less than saviour by the pac-a-macs once again, I swear all those north face waterproof, zip proof are overrated. Day old socks, adjusting the same clothes as yesterday (and last night), one final pull of motivation and off we go up over the valley past the half water, half snow streams and into the mist.

The moisture of the morning brought one additional feature, leeches swamped around us and frequently clambered on board our shoes searching for a hideout from which they could drain more of me away. Luckily today, I had suggested to prue that we both put our socked feet into plastic bag, this also saved us from an earlier onset of frostbite in our toes as it was to be a cold one. When removing the bloodsuckers you were not just in a battle with one or two at a time but nine or ten, and team work assisted the removal, I must say that as gross as these animals are they were actually more of a comfort to me as they stunted the progression of the hike. 4 hours we clambered up and alongside my slow steady steps which I refused to relent we began to be affected by the chilling winds which ripped through our thin waterproofed plastic and brought clouds over the valley so we were encompassed by a white blanket. Our other more suitable items sat in our big bags at the head of the pack with the mules and we dreamed of reaching our gloves and thick coats. One particular part of the day stands clear in mind, our guide, trying to make our progress a little more rapid would guide us up the steeper slopes than along the pathways, this does not work for me. One particular time, we came to a huge shelf of ice and were expected to dig in our heels to ascend, this proved almost impossible in our footwear and you could definitely say that that it was 2 paces forward, one slipped back. Finally when Prue and I had both slipped and I agonised at having lost 3 meters of height gain while she had had a 20m back-track we staggered to the edge of the ice and clambered up the leech infested slippery rocks instead.

We conquered the summit soomer than expected, at 3300m with a towering 3900 peak looming to our left. The shock of the amount of snow before us and the joy of having fought through the elements to arrive here was postponed for a few moments as we harassed our bags for warmer gear. Layered up I could fully appreciate the awesomeness of our destination, an unbelievable combination of clouds parting to reveal ridges upon ridges of cascading snow into the abyss below, occassionally cutting into the white blanket outcrops of dark rock showed that nature could still survive in these temperatures, the tiny red flowers reminded us of this all the way down. Stunning.

Next to our dumped bags was dinner... a suprise consisting of a plastic bag half full of boiled potatoes. Eaten and enjoyed because we were hungry they served their purpose although the hikers diet was slightly lacking.

'There might still be some snow up there'

Alous words, and he wasn't kidding since there was shed loads of it. What we didn't expect was that our trail would continue through it... in trainers. Dangerous in its own right thanks to the steepness of the ice like snow and the random outcropping of rocks we progressed cautiously. My spirits soared at the novelty of the situation and my tension through all of the difficulty during th eincline released, from here on in the rest of the hike was an absolute blast, challenging, edgy and shed loads of fun. We had to se a kind of hitler march to descend through the snow with the aim of digging the soft round curves of our trainers into the ice, ha fat luck. But we made it all the same, once in turn propelling ourselves right down the shelf of ice using the ass cheeks. In reverse the others found descending more tricky than the alternative so we switched roles in levels of enjoyment. We remained united on two things, that this was more stunning than anywhere else we had ever seen, and that we didn't want to slide off it.

The excitement continued for a couple of hours alongside a desire to be able to move ones toes, a final scramble alongside a waterfall and one more sheet of ice brought us into a second valley where wilderness began its fight back against the elements. Waterfalls pooled into a stream from the valleys sides and we slowly left the gorgeous sights of the snow combines with the dramatic landscapebehind as we descended into a forest and then meadow. Ahead sat a small stone hut, still flagged by the valley dotted with grazing cows and shrouded in the clouds, in which awaiting us was rice and woulkd you believe it, friend potatos.

Night number 2, like the first except with a chill that valium couldn't overcome and induce sleep. We tied our bodies amongst the two sleeping bags but the ground drew our heat away so fast that only our arm pits and stomachs kept any warmth (bit fat winter coats were on). We used these to warm our hands but my feet turned to stone, the beanie and winter hood achieved very little and it remained a difficult night for all as our hips became bruised on the solid bottom.

Day 3. When sunlight sneaked its head in between the slats in our wooden wedge of a door we were grateful as along with it came the lighting of the fire and breakfast. Noodles in a water soup gave us all of the energy we needed for 7 hours springing down hill. Our steps were easy going but brisk, converstaion flowed free and ther heat increased as we descended. Thed time slipped by and soon enough a road, maybe a gritty carved into the hillside one, but a road all the same appeared around the corner. We were taken to a shop, used to support the workers busy deplteing the hillsides. An old lady and a toddler surrounded by a plastic sheeting defined the aforementioned shop, the goods in a messy array on the side opposite the bed and bedding for one. We found crisps and beer, and had to be ushered out and back onto our feet by our guide. What lay before us was a deep descent that took all of the remaining calf power to achieve, never mind the balance lost to the beers. One more picturesque waterfall marked the end of our journey, after thumping the air I took one look back at my hardest task to date, wow!

I can not sum these 3 days any better than Prue who stated

'The scenery changes through 4 seasons each day, the terrain changed double that, the temperatures triple that and well, your emotions change around every corner'

Here Here!