The Thunder Dragon Awakens

Most visitors to Bhutan don’t venture beyond Punakha, the Divine Madman’s stronghold, but on ward we go, climbing higher and higher into the Himalayas toward the Phobjikha Valley, which Lotay of Bridge to Bhutan describes as one of his favorite places to hike.

The immense valley is home to black-necked cranes that winter here. The large birds have already returned to Tibet, but the area is still worthy of a visit. On the way, the narrow road twists and turns through a lush semi-tropical landscape, which is surprising at this elevation. Gigantic rhododendrums with pink flowers line the roadway and we are able to catch our first glimpse of the high peaks of the Himalayas in the distance.

On the other side of the pass we’ve just reached, the landscape changes again. This time there are fields upon fields of dwarf bamboo stretching down to the valley below. From the Gangtey Goemba, a private monastery, we begin a two-hour hike that leads downhill (thank goodness) to the valley floor. Sunny at first, the clouds close in around us and we feel a few manageable sprinkles. Then the thunder roars.
 
We are joined by three boys on their way home from school.   Since we’re heading in the same direction, we end up walking together for quite a ways, stopping to take pictures of each other and skipping rocks. One of the boys lost a tooth along the way and showed it to me. Not sure if the Bhutanese have a tooth fairy, I asked him if it was good luck to lose a tooth. “No, you are good luck,” he says as he tossed the tooth up in the air and continued on. I guess that answered my question as to whether he might receive a coin under his pillow.  

After they turned off the path to head up to their home on the hill, the trail narrows while entering a grove of tall pines that protect the delicate wildflowers, wild berries and lichens on the forest floor.

The scenery is too beautiful to rush. The other folks in our party are way ahead, hoping to stay dry, but Sheila and I stop to “smell the roses.”

By the time reach the forest’s edge, there is a downpour and we’re completely soaked, but we are on vacation and we probably won’t ever come back here in our lifetimes, so we continue to slowly trudge along, soaking in more than just the rain. The expansive view. The crisp, clean air.

So, once we reach the van, Sheila and I want to keep going all the way to the lodge. Kevin and Chris climb in the van and we feel free at last, only because we’ve been on a strict schedule on the trip so far.

The two of us hike up to the village. When the rain worsens, we duck into the Nim Dorji General Shop Cum Bar and share a cola, while watching the world go by. Most everyone was inside, but there were a few people, cows and dogs still on the street.

Eventually, we head out again and climb the hillside to the beautifully painted lodge. We’re huffing and puffing as we reach the dining area where everyone is gathered around a fire-breathing stove that doubles as a toaster, coffee warmer and later, the only source of light when the generator suddenly stopped.

The rain and thunder continued on through the night. The wood-burning stoves in our rooms kept us warm as long as we kept the fire stoked. 

We have learned the true power of the Thunder Dragon.