At 4,000 meters Bagger is still talking, which is impressive given the lack of oxygen and his surplus of opinions. Our guide introduces Bhutan’s Warrior-Monks; we counter with beer, cynicism, and a wooden phallus.
Bhutan never lost to invading Tibetans, thanks to fortresses on hilltops and monks with attitude. We, however, are losing badly to our guide — a man who wants authority but not the work that comes with it.
Roger grows mutton chops and reinvents himself as “Ashley Gideon,” a 19th-century adventurer who probably never existed. Forestry rangers catalog plants, we hunt for beer, and yak cheese proves harder than iPhones.
Snow waist-deep, ponies stuck, and a guide who prefers sulking to guiding. With blue sheep dodging rocks and Dzambo running wild, we discover our greatest talent: giving up gracefully.
John arrives with a 12-kilo medical kit and enough snacks for an army. Bagger brings nothing but regrets and complaints about trash. Between them, Bhutan looks both magnificent and mildly disappointing.