"The Pass" was a subject of vast quantities of disinformation. The recommended time to leave for the pass crossing was 3 AM. Some told us that 2 AM was better. The reasons were varied. Some said that the winds arose between 10 and 12, after which the crossing would be impossible. The snow on the Manang side of the pass was too slushy if you crossed it during the day, and there were mudslides on the other side if you were there too late in the afternoon. Furthermore the crossing would take 12 hours; if you left after 6 AM, you wouldn't get to Muktinath (the village on the other side) until after dark.Only the last of these was even close to the truth.

So we woke up a 3:30 AM and were probably on the trail by 3:45. The temperature was below freezing -- ice appeared in our water bottles within an hour -- we were basically wearing all the clothing we had brought, including some especially for this occasion: gloves, thermal underwear, knit hat, and down jacket.

It was a surreal experience, hiking by the light of the moon. At first glance you notice only the patches of snow, reflecting the lunar light brightly. Soon detail appeared around these floating patches of snow. The ground itself was light colored, and the rocks were somewhat darker. The moonlight was bright enough to cast distinct shadows. Up on the hill a group of about 20 headlamps on the heads of a French expedition glimmered like fireflies as they jittered up the hill in a swarm.

We went up and up and up. There was a "mere" 3,200 feet to climb,but it was much steeper than a similar climb from Manang to Phedi. Much of the climb was loose rocks, some of it was snow. All of it was up. I set a nice even pace and we pushed up, up through the darkness,oblivious to our surroundings.

At 6:00 the sun began to rise. The main difference is that it became a tiny bit warmer. We were too intent on our climb to pay much attention to our surroundings. I pushed on and on. It was better to go a steady, even pace than to stop and rest, so we just kept going. The air became thinner and thinner and our balance became much shakier than usual. It was important only to steadily and slowly plant each footstep (like the "dinosaur" who we had passed below).

After an interminable walk, we finally reached the top. It was about 7:30 AM, and had taken us less than four hours to climb 3,000 feet. The exhausted crowd at the top included a French couple who had ascended the previous day, spent the night at the pass, with the intent to climb one of the peaks that day. They looked horrible. They had lost a part of their tent and couldn't set it up properly in the wind. They had spent a cold night and then discovered that the peak was too icy for them to climb. I took a picture for them in front of the peak that conquered them, then they took off down the opposite side.

We collapsed, exhausted. We took pictures of each other to show how trashed we were; ate the meager supplies we had brought (boiled eggs, chapati, and biscuits); rested for a couple of minutes; then we started down before the altitude caught up with us.

Brad was ok, but I felt really weak. We had 5,000 feet of scree and snow to descend. Each step could slip out from under you if you weren't concentrating 100%, and sometimes it was unavoidable. My legs were very weak, and my left knee, which I had been feeling for the past couple of days, started bothering me. Whereas the ascent had taken only four hours, the descent took about six hours on weak and wobbly legs. It was much more difficult than the ascent.

The descent was highlighted by yet another encounter with our Israeli friend (and roommate). He went racing past us with his backpack filled past the top and tilting aggressively to the right, then he stumbled several times and fell down in the snow. When we walked past him he only asked what time it was. Not too much later his girlfriend came skipping down the hill with her tiny daypack on her back.

We stopped for a rest at the tea house near the bottom of the hill, and then waited about an hour for noodle soup. Finally we limped the final hour to Muktinath, a fairly drab little village at the low altitude of 12,500 feet. We followed through to the end of town and got the last two beds in the best hotel in town (recommended by one of our books). It had great food and hot (warm) water for bathing. The French couple from the top of the pass (and previously Chamje) were there, a woman from Phedi was there, two Australian women also from Phedi were there, the Dutch couple from Bagarchap showed up for dinner, and a Canadian who we had hiked down the hill with was there.

We bathed ourselves (again), split a large bottle of Star Beer,and then waited for dinner. I went to meet the girls from Manang who had asked us to reserve beds for them (but there were none). They came down the hill not too much later and checked into the first available hotel. We had a nice dinner, a few rounds of apricot brandy (sort of), and then slept like logs.