A well-deserved rest on the top of Gongmaru La. We have climbed up to our first pass, we get used to the packs and to hiking with each other. A mountain top is a little silly compared to a pass; a top is just an ambitious goal and once you're there you can just turn around. A pass is the highest point on the long way from A to B. It is a connecting point from which you can look back and ahead as far as possible. After climbing up from one valley, and before going down another one, it is a passage point from one world to another.
But some feelings are similar: After the enclosed world of the valley, and after concentrating on the climbing, you take a breath and see the vast world of many-coloured mountain ranges. You can at last drop your pack, sit, and legitimately eat your handful of fruits and nuts. The wind blows through the prayer flags. And finally, you get chilly from the wind, you've had enough of high thoughts and you remember you still have to walk a while, so you start following the trail into the next valley.
For me, this trip is emotionally marked by the passes, Gongmaru La, Zalong Karpo La, Yar La, each one sharply distinct. The opposite motion when we had walked down a valley, turned into another one and started to walk up again is also a special moment that I remember well, but it's a softer change, rather something for observation and thinking.