Yak Herdsmen

Mid-April is producing the earliest hints of spring, and the grasslands look to be a week or so from popping. One day I trekked into the hinterlands with a backpack of provisions, less food and water - go figure. A herd of yaks in the distance was skirting a steep hillside with a backdrop of frosted peaks. It took me an hour to reach the herd, which was driven by a welcoming couple. They were both around 70 years old, but you'd have no idea from the skip in their step at 13,000 feet. I subsequently spent two days with them, following the herd upriver to a grazing basin. The couple had their own provisions stashed in a small cave on a bluff, and they tended an open fire with yak dung to prepare flatbread and Tibetan tea. When it started snowing at 4:00pm, the old man invited me to stay the night in their home, but I opted to traverse the river valley to a road, from where I could try my luck at hitchhiking back to town.