Altai and the End

The air is thin up here.

My breathing is heavy, my legs are tired, and I carry my life on my back.

I stand above 3000 meters. Surrounded by mountains and snow and this beautiful stretch of untouched wilderness.

I feel small and yet a sense of greatness at the feat of what my untrained body and mind are capable of. I feel alive.

Steam rises from the bodies of the pack horses, prayer flags flutter in the mountain breeze, and a light rain begins to fall from heavy, low-hanging clouds.

This is Siberia. This is Altai. This is the way to Shambhala.

After a week of trekking, you sort of forget about showering, about the internet, about real life. As you hike across fields, navigate rocky trails and follow rivers, you have more time than ever to think. Your mind wanders like the path in front of you. The weather, thirst, the body, family, Budapest, trees, rain, hunger, cold, beauty, relationships, the future, the past, aching feet, books, religion, life. And sometimes there is that rare moment when you stop to breath and realize that you having been thinking of nothing, absolutely nothing, because observing the world around you is enough. This is the moment I love the most. I may be sweaty, muddy and unshowered, but my mind is clean.

Suddenly, you find yourself back on an airplane ordering tomato juice and returning to civilization. There is WiFi, air-conditioning and toilets. You are surrounded by more people in one minute than you saw on the trail in 10 days, and it makes you more exhausted than 24 kilometers of hiking ever did. I felt terrified in this moment, not only because it seemed like the airplane could use a little maintenance, but because leaving Altai meant that it was just one week until I left Russia. These two magnificent journeys were both coming to an end and I wasn't ready for it. I'm still not ready for it.

In just two days I'll be back on an airplane, not returning to an old life, but beginning a new one. I will leave behind two years of amazing memories and experiences, I will say farewell to people who have become something like family, and I will close a chapter of the unique life I am blessed to live. Thank you Russia for all that you have given me and for being a key player in the story of my life.