Night Halt 4 – Snowman Race 2024
I don’t have a bucket list but when once in a lifetime opportunities come up I tend to take them. Flying from Bangkok on Druk Air to the Kingdom of Bhutan was exactly that, a once in a lifetime trip. Incredibly though it would be my third time “working” in the high Himalayan Shangri-La and I couldn’t be more thankful for my FunEmployed lifestyle.
As mentioned in previous Bhutan posts, flying into Paro is an adventure itself. Regularly listed as one of the “most dangerous airports in the world” the approach is so challenging that only 50 pilots are certified to land only in daylight hours and only with good visibility. As the plane descended I was excited to return to the land of Gross National Happiness.
Two years after the inaugural Snowman Race I was arriving with some familiar faces and many more first timers. The international Snowman Race staff was slightly smaller but our team still included Luis Escobar as the International Race Director and a crew for athlete support, media management, and two of us to cover Night Halts (aid station camps) on the course. The International Athletes were a group of very accomplished mountain runners with a few friends and family along for the experience. At the airport we were greeted with white khatas and big smiles from the friends we’d been working with for more than a year to organize the event.
No trip to Bhutan is complete without trekking to the Tiger’s Nest, one of Bhutan’s most iconic monasteries. First established in the late 1600’s this architectural masterpiece is perched high above the valley built into the side of sheer cliffs. With the entire cohort of International and Bhutanese athletes we spent a day hiking up and exploring this special setting before returning to our hotel in town.
Our next stop was Gasa, a place for the athletes to acclimatize to the elevation and the race staff to prepare for the event. We stayed at the Gasa Hot Springs hotel for several days to test out the GPS trackers, tour the Gasa Dzong, and hold several pre-race meetings. As the entire group repacked to hike up to Laya for the Royal Highland Festival and the start of the race I had a different itinerary.
A day before the team departed to Laya I boarded a bus with one of our drivers and bounced an entire day back to Thimphu. There I spent several days waiting for the Night Halt 4 crew to assemble and rendezvous to trek into the fourth camp. While in Thimphu I explored the capital city, enjoyed a little down time, was hosted by one of our local team members to a futbol championship and survived several super late nights out on the town with his friends.
But alas, back to work. Tilak from Bhutan Green Hill Adventure, our Night Halt 4 tour operator and someone who has been working with us since my first trip to Bhutan, picked me up from my hotel and drove me all day out to Bumthang, the finish of the race. There we met the rest of the Night Halt 4 crew and set up camp at the trailhead. The next morning our group of pack animal handlers, guides, two doctors, a representative of the Bhutan Amateur Athletics Federation (BAAF), and multiple members of the military started walking backward on the race course toward the fourth camp. Our procession included nearly 20 people followed by more than 20 horses hauling all of the gear for us and the athletes.
Snowman Race 2024 – Night Halt 4 Film
The first day we covered 9.75 miles and spent the night at a yak herder’s hut. I remembered camping in this building during the Snowman Recon Trek back in 2022. It was our final night of 2 weeks walking across the course setting the GPS track. That evening we had a special dinner of yak meat to celebrate our success with all of the crew. This time it was my 2nd night on the trail, I was the only non-Bhutanese member of the team, and only a few of my new friends had an inkling of English. I enjoyed the evening sitting around the campfire with a soundtrack of crackling flames and animated storytelling in Dzongkha, the national language of Bhutan.
The next morning we were up early because the second day’s hike would be a doozy. Departing camp we climbed out of the tropical forest into a high open valley. We walked past small family huts, crossed pristine glacial runoff streams, sidestepped yaks, and climbed toward the high point on our trek.
After a long uphill slog past glacial lakes surrounded by high Himalayan peaks dusted with snow we topped out at 15,400 feet above sea level on Juley La Pass. We stopped for a quick lunch and a few pictures, but the brisk breeze blowing enticed us to quickly drop down into the next valley and the location of Night Halt 4. After covering 8 miles and a considerable amount of elevation change we arrived at our home for the next few days.
We were several days early, giving us plenty of time to set up the camp and ensure that all amenities and safety procedures were in place. The team milled around unpacking the horses, pitching a few tents, and when the kitchen crew offered me a cup of hot butter tea I caught sight of our groceries and realized that I’d be eating A LOT of ema datshi, or chili cheese, during my week in the mountains. Totally fine by me, the biggest problem I had was assuring the chef during each and every meal that yes, I really did want the spicy version!
Before dinner a thick cold fog descended on Juley Tsho Lake. After eating I retreated to my tent for an early bedtime but was startled awake by a loud echoing rockfall reverberating through the valley. With no visibility due to the dense fog I couldn’t discern the trajectory of the projectiles so I tucked deeper into my sleeping bag and cinched the hood tight around my face, it was going to be a long cold night.
The next morning was our first full day in camp. The dawn sun illuminated a frozen landscape as we felt every bit of the 14,200 feet that we sat above sea level. Our tents were covered in frost, the lake sparkled with ice crystals, and the only thing any of us wanted to do was sit by the fire and drink hot tea until the sun finally peeked over the mountains and warmed us with its rays.
Almost out of the blue a herd of blue sheep began foraging down the hill toward our camp. I’d spotted one or two of these high mountain ungulates called bharal (actually more goats than sheep) on my previous trips to Bhutan, but this time an entire herd was heading straight for us. Our whole crew spied the mountainside as the animals scampered between rock outcroppings searching for snacks, keeping a keen eye on the two-legged intruders in their hidden Himalayan home. Darting around the hillside they occasionally kicked a few rocks down the slope, exposing the culprits of the previous night’s commotion.
Done gawking we dove into the day’s work setting up additional tents for the athletes and organizing the gear that we hauled up to play host at Night Halt 4. The morning fog lifted quickly but after lunch the clouds reappeared and a gloomy drizzle kicked in. Pausing our construction for better weather the military guys foraged fresh wood and started a fire. Most of us spent the afternoon standing or sitting beside the flickering flames drinking bottomless cups of hot tea. After a slow dreary afternoon we ate an early dinner and retreated to our sleeping bags, hoping for more pleasant weather as race day approached.
The next morning I woke to clear skies and crisp temps. It was cold but we were all much happier enjoying breakfast and watching the sun pour into the valley. Our trip leader Tilak wasn’t feeling well, it might have been the altitude or the temperature, but he was under the weather. The doctors checked on me too and they said that my oxygen level was low, very low, but my blood pressure was good. They were concerned but I told them I’d be fine. I wasn’t feeling great either, but I’d been here before and I wasn’t going to miss this race for anything.
In the afternoon our crew continued organizing camp while a few military guys and our BAAF rep hiked several miles to the adjacent valley and down toward the Duer Hot Springs where they harvested a few small straight trees and carried them back to camp to be used as poles to display our finish and start line banners.
With our radio telecommunications antenna mounted on more harvested poles we finally made contact with the race headquarters and got an update on the progress. Through halting English translations I learned that anywhere from 6 runners to the entire field of 16 athletes were moving well and on their way toward us. It was challenging to be so disconnected from my contacts at race HQ but I trusted that the military knew what they were doing and that everything would work out.
A few crew members spent an afternoon working diligently on the gas powered generator that we (meaning the horses) packed up to camp. Similar to the experience at Night Halt 2 back in 2022 the motor did not want to run and it was a challenge to get the generator to turn over in the thin air. After a few hours of tinkering they finally had the unit roaring, providing the camp with power that was quickly fed through a tangle of charging cables to 20 mobile phones.
It turned out to be a beautiful day and in the afternoon I watched in awe as a bank of thick clouds blew in across the lake. It was an awesome scene until it reached our camp, bringing with it a sharp cold chill. After another early dinner I headed to the warmth of bed and another 12 hours in my sleeping bag.
The entire camp was up early for the Night Halt 4 race day. I poured a cup of instant coffee and sat with our representative from BAAF to start the men’s and women’s stopwatches at 6:00 AM sharp. It was another cool crisp morning with crunchy ice around camp and a lonely column of smoke climbing the valley walls from our fire. A spicy breakfast warmed my body, but it was still so cold that I had no dexterity in my hands. We all waited anxiously for the sun to kiss our camp and bring us back to life.
Enlivened by the warmth of sunshine we all got to work. The cook team started preparing an international feast for the incoming athletes and I looked on in anticipation, ready for a change from my thrice daily portion of rice, chili and cheese. The rest of the crew finished building the banners at the finish and start lines while radio chatter grew more active throughout the day, keeping us updated on the progress of the runners.
I had a bit of extra time so I walked backward on the trail to Gokthang La Pass at 14,550 feet above sea level. From this vantage point I could look down the trail to the valley with the hot springs where the runners would be coming from. The military had placed one of our guys on the pass with a walkie talkie to alert camp when runners were approaching. It was quite the place to be positioned with a wonderful panoramic view, but as the day grew long and the weather changed I think he would have preferred to be stationed in camp!
Looking back toward camp I could see a yak herder’s hut that I remembered from our recon trek in 2022. That year we crossed the pass on a dreary day and a little worn down from 12 days on the trail but something about this simple hut perched above a waterfall spilling out of a high Himalayan lake with towering walls all around made a lasting impression on me.
In 2022 I posted a picture of this exact valley and hut under looming clouds and commented:
If I disappear someday I might be living here in the stone hut at the edge of this glacial lake above a waterfall in a remote valley far far away taking care of yaks and going on hikes.
Since I never thought I’d be back here again, and none of the runners had been spotted yet, I took advantage of the free time and hiked down to explore my dream homestead. It certainly was a simple place and I’m not sure I’d do well being so remote for very long, but it had an absolutely stunning view and hey, a guy can dream right?
When I arrived back in camp the guys were trading guesses on when the first runner would arrive and settled on 3:00 PM. Knowing that we had recruited some really epic athletes for this year’s race I made a silent prediction of 12:30 PM. A few minutes after noon everyone scrambled into place with walkie talkies crackling as we spied two runners moving swiftly around the perimeter of the lake. At 12:15 the Night Halt 4 crew welcomed our first runner quickly followed by another, they were our two leading Bhutanese male athletes racing hard for first place.
Just 10 minutes later Cody Lind rolled into camp and was congratulated by the crew and checked on by the doctors, then we shook hands and I realized this was the first native English conversation I’d had since I left the group back in Gasa nearly 10 days prior. Runners continued to stream in through the afternoon excited to have Day 4 behind them and sprawled out on mats on the hillside sharing stories from the race course.
As the afternoon progressed the weather shifted and a dense fog settled around the lake. We began depending more on the walkie talkie calls from the nearby pass to prepare for arriving runners and hardly had any idea who to expect until they ran out of the haze and across the finish line. The athletes took turns in the hot shower, changed clothes, and escaped into puffy jackets and sleeping bags. The sun started to fade and I felt bad for the military guy who was still stationed up on the pass with his walkie talkie waiting for the last few athletes to arrive.
Our final runner rolled in just after dark and with everyone safely in camp the Night Halt 4 crew shifted from race spectators to hospitality professionals. A smorgasbord of energy rich food was cooked up and served to the hungry athletes and after agreeing on an early wake up call for the morning the group dispersed. Some went straight to bed while a others lingered by the heat of the fire before zipping into their tents.
I was up at 4:00 AM, warm and cozy in my sleeping bag but ready to get to work. I filled a cup of hot instant coffee and warmed myself by the fire while I patiently waited for the agreed upon hour. When it was time I walked around the camp to get the runners stirring with a speech I’d been thinking about all night in my tent while I couldn’t sleep.
Good morning athletes. I know you’re warm and toasty in your sleeping bag dreaming of mountain biking, swimming, surfing or rock climbing, but today you are runners and today is the final day of your Snowman Race!
We have hot water for you in the showers if you want to come on down you can wash your face and freshen up.
Speaking of hot, warm and toasty, the chef and his crew have cooked up a smorgasbord for you in the dining tent. I can’t promise toast, but I can almost guarantee some sort of rice dish. It might be fried rice, possibly boiled rice, but most definitely red rice. So get dressed and come on down to breakfast.
On that note make sure your right shoes go on the right feet. Left shoes go on the left feet. In your shirts and pants the tags go in the back. If your neck is feeling tight, or the butt doesn’t fit right they might be on backwards. For your running watch you should be able to read the numbers. If they’re upside down your watch is on upside down, just turn it around.
If you put your jacket on and you can’t reach the zipper in the back or the hood is covering your face, it’s on backwards. I know you all probably know this already, I’m just sharing from personal experience.
Okay, I’ll leave you alone for now with one last piece of advice. When running a race always put your best foot forward. After that you should use which ever foot comes next. It’s your last day on the Snowman Race, get up, get dressed, and we will see you at breakfast!
Shortly before 6:00 AM the athletes stood at the Day 5 start line that the Night Halt crew had constructed. After a quick description of the day’s course to the finish in Bumthang our BAAF representative started the race with a whistle and the entire crew of guides, cooks, horsemen, military members and doctors cheered as we watched the athletes climb their last major pass of the 5 day Snowman Race adventure.
The runners disappeared over the ridge and in the calm after the storm everyone grabbed a cup of butter tea and discussed our exit strategy. There were additional checkpoints on the course staffed by military and if any of the athletes had trouble they would be extracted to the finish in Bumthang, not back to us. During the 2022 Race when the athletes left Night Halt 2 our entire crew needed to stick around for another full day for safety, but this year we were free to move, and moving was top of mind for everyone after nearly a week camped in mostly cold and rainy conditions.
Quite efficiently I was ushered out of camp and sent up the trail. I offered to help tear down and pack up but they were having none of it, so I set off with the lead group while the guide crew and military members disassembled the lakeside mountain site that had been our high Himalayan home.
After many sedentary days in camp I decided to push myself up the 1,200 foot climb to Juley La Pass and as I led the way I chased the herd of blue sheep one last time, watching them crisscross the trail and climb a steep cliff with incredible agility before using nature’s camouflage to disappear into the rock walls.
The runners would reach the finish line in Bumthang later that day but for our crew and the pack animals carrying all of the Night Halt 4 supplies it was a solid 2+ day hike out. Getting an early start helped and we retraced our steps, following the athletes up and over the pass, around glacial lakes, and down through the wide river valley that would lead us lower in elevation and back into the forest.
We hiked a little over 8 miles and settled in at the yak herder’s hut where we camped on our first night on the way to Night Halt 4. The space was a bit more crowded this time as a yak herding family had stopped in the hut at the bottom of the clearing with their animals grazing between us. A few big bulls were not too thrilled with intruders, especially our horses, and we kept a wide berth and often had rocks at the ready if they meandered to close to our camp to claim their space.
Everything was pretty quiet for our final night on the trail. We had dinner, sat briefly around the fire, and many of us retired early to bed exhausted from an early morning and long day. From this location we didn’t have connection to the outside world so we didn’t know the race results, we’d have to wait until reaching town to find out how everyone did.
In the morning we woke early. The horsemen tried to get us on the trail before the yak herding family and we left before some of them, but not all of them. We spent the first few miles jockeying for position on the single track with the big bulky beasts as their slight but strong herders followed behind keeping the procession moving with precise pitches of pebbles landing squarely on the rumps of any stragglers (yaks, not us).
By midday we were deep in the thick forest tracing the turquoise glacial runoff river to our destination. We descended until the trail flattened out which should have made things easer, but I knew that we were close to the end when we were reunited with the mud. After sloshing through the final few miles we arrived at the road junction with our pack animals in tow. Everyone jumped into action freeing the horses from their loads, sorting the bags, and stacking the gear into the haul truck.
Finally having cell reception I messaged Luis that I was back to civilization. While I washed my feet and muddy shoes in the river a plan was put into action. Suddenly people started to split off and depart. A few of the horsemen walked across on old bridge and disappeared around a corner presumably back to their highland hamlets. I was ushered into a waiting vehicle that was suddenly hurtling down the road at a pace I hadn’t experienced in more than a week. After returning the military crew to their the base Tilak took me to a hotel and as I hopped out of the truck the entire Snowman group was loading onto a bus for some afternoon sightseeing. Luis must have anticipated not only my arrival but also my needs and as we shared a congratulatory hug he handed me exactly what I wanted, a tall blue Druk.
It has been another incredible experience working with a Night Halt crew out in the remote Himalayan mountains during the Snowman Race, but after being the only international member of an all Bhutanese team for more than a week and a half I was excited to be reunited with the international travelers. I spent the afternoon cleaning up and relaxing in the hotel and joined everyone for a final celebration dinner in Bumthang. Apparently I missed my Bhutanese life though and when everyone returned to the hotel I continued the fiesta and went out on the town with a few of the Bhutanese crew to a local karaoke bar and sang and drank way too late into the night.
Apparently the group was also not used to having me back because when I woke up (late, I slept through my alarm) and pulled back the curtains in my room the bus was gone. Oh #$%@. Somehow I needed to get to Thimphu to catch up with the gang before we had to be at the airport to depart the country the following day and while Thimphu is only 165 miles (266km) from Bumthang the winding roads make it an all day trip. Frantically thinking of options I phoned the only person I could think of, Tilak.
Luckily he was still in town and was also driving to Thimphu, and ironically a military guy who had joined the athletes for part of the race (and who I had been out with the previous night) was waking up late also and needed a ride back to the capital. We were both in the same hotel so Tilak drove over and picked us up. The General had ditched his boots for running trainers out on the Snowman course and needed some standard issue shoes to go home in so we stopped by the local barracks and very quickly a table and 2 chairs were rushed out to the parking lot. I was invited to sit and he and I shared a full hot breakfast and coffee served by the military staff.
Fed and ready I got into Tilak’s car with The General and the military radio operator who had been on the Night Halt crew and the four of us headed to Thimphu. After a long morning drive we pulled into a roadside restaurant just as the Snowman athletes and staff were loading onto the busses and they were surprised to see me. I asked why they forgot me (they didn’t know I needed a ride) and filled them in on the previous night’s shenanigans and we all had a good laugh before they left and I went inside for lunch with my Bhutanese friends.
The day grew long as we wound around mountains and valleys but we finally approached Thimphu in Tilak’s truck. Our first stop was a secure military compound to drop The General off at his home. He invited us up so Tilak and I, our radio man wouldn’t go in, sat in his well appointed living room and talked while The General’s wife poured us a few glasses of ara, a clear and potent homemade spirit.
After saying goodbye Tilak next drove up a steep road to another home to deliver our radio operator to his family. Again we were invited in, this time into a small and cozy living room with young children reading and playing. I was offered more ara but picked a blue Druk instead. We talked for awhile with our radio man and his family and then politely said our goodbyes. It had been a long day, which followed a previous long night, and both me and Tilak were ready to get home.
Tilak drove me into the center of Thimphu and dropped me off at the race hotel. There I rejoined the roaming family of international athletes and staff and downed a few more Druks sharing stories about the past 24 hours and the entire trip.
The next morning the team didn’t forget me! We all loaded the buses and took the shorter but still mountainous drive back to Paro. We arrived early at the airport and were greeted by Kinzang Lhamo with a celebratory cake. Kinzang had been part of the 2022 Snowman Race and she had just stolen the world’s heart at the Paris Olympics finishing in last place in the marathon but earning a first place ovation from spectators and fans around the world.
Taking a few moments in a VIP room at the airport we said our thank yous and goodbyes to our local hosts. I looked around the room and reflected on yet another once in a lifetime experience. It was my third time in the Kingdom of Bhutan and on each trip I had ventured far out into the highlands. The first time with Luis, but the next two rolling solo with incredible groups of local Bhutanese guides, horseman, military guys, doctors, locals and friends. I was wildly thankful for each and every moment, even the ones spent losing my shoes in sucking mud, walking for hours through puddles of horse piss and patties of yak dung, sitting in freezing rain, eating rice and spicy peppers day after day after day after day… In the high Himalaya, everything is adventure.
And of course none of this would be possible if it weren’t for Snowman International Race Director and my good friend Luis Escobar. Even before he asked me to join him on a trip to Bhutan back in 2022 we’d been heading out on epic adventures for years. Whether we’re in the Santa Barbara mountains, crossing the Grand Canyon, freezing on top of Mount Whitney, working together at Spartan Trail races, or working at the epic Snowman Race, whenever I’m with Luis I know it’s going to be a good time.
Back in Bangkok the Snowman crew started parting ways. Some had connecting flights in a few short hours, others were staying for a night or two near the airport, but my friends Kevin and Ophelia were living in Bangkok so I caught a cab downtown. I couldn’t spend the winter in Thailand like I did after the 2022 race because I had another epic trip coming up in just over a week, but I did have enough time to hang out and soak up the Thai vibes with great friends for a few nights.
Flying out of Bangkok felt way too soon but in just a few days I’d be back in the United States, repacking my bags, and boarding some boats with a group of friends for a 3 week float down the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon. My soul was full from Bhutan and I was excited to head out on yet another once in a lifetime adventure!
