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(from sunburn) - very
funny, or maybe it is just the high altitude getting to me.
There is a porter watching me write this, so maybe I should
make an effort and write neater. Illiteracy runs over 70
percent in the Nepalese language and much higher in English so there is virtually no
chance that the two eyes watching can read what I am writing. He is just curious.
Being somewhat competitive and not wanting to slow anyone
down, I kept up with the porters on the trail today, and no
one part of my body fell apart: all of it did.
Walking along the rocky trail at about 7000 feet, the clouds
hung low, touching the shrubbery and grasses with their
wetness. The air was warm. The cool greenery brushed my bare legs. |
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There was a feeling of oily moisture just below my crotch.
Upon closer examination there was also a great deal of blood; no
pain, just the blood. The leach had his fill and then
dropped off. I never realized it. Did I ever bleed.
Bled right through my cutoffs. The bugger got me good; it
looks as if I’ve been through a war zone. The little
nematodes inject a very effective
anti-coagulate and it took a little while to staunch the flow. I
am told one can feel some initial pain when they first latch on,
but my body has been in one big pain, more then enough to mask
all the little pains.
No sooner had the bleeding stopped when Dawa asked me to go
ahead a ways. I didn’t have a clue why, but the urgency in his
voice told me to get moving - fast. I trotted forward, the
heavy pack pounding against my back. I turned around just
in time to see Dawa pick up a stone and place a well aimed shot at a
village dog that was sneaking up behind me, teeth bared, ready
to finish the job the leach had begun.
The Leaches in this area are tiny fellows, no bigger than the
head of a pin. They hang out on the leaves of bushes and trees
and when they feel your heat they stretch out a half inch
and attempt to affix themselves to some part of you, or they
will
crawl up your boots and attack from this direction. Since my
encounter with the little leach, I have been careful in
examining my legs. Dawa has offered to lead the way in
order to knock the little guys off the bushes before they have a
chance to get to me. Talk about a sacrificial lamb!
Many
people are on the trail, not only the locals and the working
porters, but trekkers as well. |
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Page 15 |
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