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There is always something magical about seeing the horizon, that place where sky meets earth, where our perspective is expanded, exploded, and the perceived bigness of our immediate world dissolves into the true vastness of our earth. Seeing this immensity, embracing it, is a welcome, grounding, humbling experience, reminding us of how small we are in the bigness all around, enabling near-limitless vision of the ground we’ve covered and the possibility that lies ahead.

And, while I love the view of the horizon from any place, for me it is most powerful in the high mountains. Maybe it’s the clear, cold air, the tangible nothingness which pervades this realm, the peace and solitude. But, I think it’s something more, something deeper, a sense of the power hiding in the serrated landscape, deep valleys and jagged ridges, glaciers grinding and rivers roaring, the inherent extremeness all around reminding unsubtly there are powers at work far larger, grander, older, and wiser than me, than you, than us all. But, while it reminds me of my immense insignificance in some grander scheme, of my remarkable frailty amongst power far greater than mine, it is not an unwelcome, threatening vista; quite the opposite. Viewing the horizon, the landscape, the world - and my minute place in it - from this vantage is an enlivening, transcendent experience, one which breeds humility and gratitude, deep recognition of all nature gives us - without cause, without debt - a munificent flow unending.

For the Kulung Rai1¹, this view of the horizon takes on a more defined meaning. In Rai mythology - an ancient, largely oral, tradition called Mundhum - eons ago the God of Sky, Paruhang, met Mother Earth, Sumnima, and their union brought forth humanity. The Kulung do not view themselves as separate from nature; rather, they see it as it is: humans are part of, inseparable from, reliant upon, wholly interconnected with, the natural world. There is no distinction, just the many threads of a whole cloth.

While we didn’t plan it as such, it turned out that in December, Sam and I and our team were atop the Amphu Laptsa on December 15th which, in the Nepali calendar, is the full moon day of Mangsir, the eighth month of the Bikram Samvat, or Nepali lunar calendar, and the Kulung Rai festival of Udhauli Parva. Udhauli, which translates to “downward,” marks for the Rai the transition of autumn to winter, the end of the harvest season, and the time traditionally when they would move - like the birds and other elements of the natural world - from the summer/warm season highlands to the warmer lowlands.2² This celebration is deeply entwined with gratitude and recognition: to the earth, to Mother Nature, for the bounty provided; to the ancestors, who forged the path and allowed the present to be; to the community, on whom everyone relies and supports. This is all ritualized and actualized through the traditional dances of Sakela Sili, which tell the stories of the Rai and remind all of their reliance on and interconnectedness with earth, ancestors, and community.

High on the Amphu Laptsa, we did not dance the Sakela Sili. But we did celebrate and recognize, we connected with each other, with those who came before, and with the world around us. How could we not, gazing out as we were at that wild horizon, the meeting of Paruhang and Sumnima, the vastness of which we are all a part, on which we all rely?

Take a look at this interactive panorama below, taken on December 15, 2024 - Udhauli Parva - atop the Amphu Laptsa. This is a part of the new virtual tour I'm building out covering the Mundhum Trail and the Hunku Valley. Please note that this is a preview, and not a perfect one. Please let me know if there are issues, glitches, misspellings, incorrect data, etc!

1. The Kulung Rai are a subgroup of the Rai, which are in turn a subgroup of the larger Kirat ethnic group of Nepal, India, and Sikkim. The Kirat include Rai, Limbu, Yakkha, Sunuwar, Chamling, and other ethnic groups. They are considered the oldest inhabitants of the middle Himalayan ranges, and traditionally practice animistic faiths which focus on a close and harmonious relationship with the natural world. ↩︎
2. Udhauli is complemented by its corollary festival, Ubhauli (upwards), which marks the transition from winter to spring/summer and occurs during the Nepali month of Baisakh (April/May). ↩︎