Back on the trail
It was our third day of the hike. After taking a rest day for Jet to recover, we got back into it - ready for what would be our longest stretch yet: 18 to 19 kilometers of what the locals call “Nepalese flat.”
Reading the signs of the universe - or just being superstitious?
I’ve always believed the universe has its own way of speaking. That it sends us signals - subtle, sometimes strange - that we can read and interpret if we’re open enough to notice them. For those who love this topic, I’d highly recommend The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho.
This kind of thinking is a topic I love to discuss, especially with my dad. He’s a firm realist. For him, life happens as it should. Nothing is random; everything is the result of the choices we make. Realizing that every decision has a direct consequence and influence on the rest of your life - is something I actually agree with. It places responsibility back in our own hands, putting you in the driver’s seat of your own life, rather than just being along for the ride.
But still... isn’t it comforting to believe in something bigger? Something we can’t quite explain?
That there are layers to this life - dimensions beyond what we can see, hear or feel?
Is that why people believe in a god? To explain why life happens they way it does?
Or maybe it’s the fear of death and the unknown that drives us toward belief?
The first sign
Coming back to reading the signs of life: Yesterday, a Dutch woman came down from the mountains. We met her at our hostel. She told us she couldn’t breathe anymore and had to turn back - her form of altitude sickness had made it impossible to go on.
We started talking about backpacks. Hers was heavy, and I mentioned that I was struggling with mine too. Without hesitation, she offered to take some of my heavier items back down to Pokhara for me. I accepted her offer gratefully and, honestly, took it as a sign. A small, perfectly timed gift from the universe - lending me a hand for the climb ahead.
The second sign
Later that evening, over dinner, she told us something that stopped us cold: a British man had died that day while trying to cross the Manaslu Pass (5102m). She told us that the cause was altitude sickness. At first, I was stunned. Then anxiety and doubts began to set in.
Why am I doing this?
Is it wise to continue?
Is this a warning from the universe?
The third sign
While hiking today, after a particularly steep climb, we were approaching a village. The path - made out of flattened rocks, with a coal-like appearance - wound upward beside a low stone wall. At the entrance to the village, a small set of stone stairs curved into the houses above.
As we neared the top, we saw a man lying on the ground, his head bleeding heavily. What I assumed to be his son was kneeling beside him, trying desperately to keep him conscious as the older man was losing contact with the world.
We stopped, paralyzed, unsure of what to do. I called Jet over - she carries special plasters designed for wounds that would usually require stitches. Terrified but steady, she unpacked her kit and handed the supplies to the people helping the man. Slowly, he began to regain consciousness, and someone wrapped his head in a large bandage.
We never saw how it happened, but from the way his body was twitching and the sounds he made, I feared he was having an epileptic seizure - a fear that hit close to home, as I live with epilepsy myself.
The Fourth Sign
As if the day hadn’t already felt heavy enough, we later heard that earlier in the afternoon, a mule had fallen off a cliff along the same trail we were hiking. It had slipped while carrying gear, and the path it fell from was no wider than a meter - just like the one we had climbed that morning.
It wasn’t something I witnessed firsthand, but hearing it added to the growing feeling that the mountains were trying to say something. It made everything feel even more fragile, more real. The weight we ask of both animals and ourselves up here is immense.
Are these omens?
Four events in less than 24 hours. A woman forced to turn back. A man who died on the pass. Another collapsing before our eyes. A mule falling off a cliff.
Was the universe trying to tell me something?
Should I take these signs seriously?
Should I stop and go back?
Was the Dutch woman not a gift, but a warning?
Talking It Through
I shared my thoughts with Amanda and Jet. They listened, patiently and kindly, before reminding me that every day, countless people hike this trail and make it across the pass safely. The British man likely didn’t communicate his symptoms to his guide. The Dutch woman was, in fact, a helpful soul. And the man on the path? Just bad luck - nothing more, nothing less. And the poor mule... That is bound to happen in these areas.
Still, I wonder...
Am I overthinking all of this? Or is there something greater at play?
Are these signs from the universe? Or am I just being superstitious?
Maybe we all create our own meaning. Maybe life is a blend of belief, experience, and the lens we view it through. And maybe - just maybe - that's the most powerful truth of all.
