does this count as a near death experience? probably not

the majority of my writing on here has been fairly introspective/thinky, but it has been such an intense few days that i'm pretty much just going to recount.

so, on monday i found out my cat died, which was obviously super upsetting. i had a big cry. it started out as a cry for laurence, and then it was a cry about the fact that none of the people i wanted to talk to are on this continent, and then it was a cry about this big, hard thing i'm doing, and then it was a cry about the state of the world. but, mostly, it was about laurence.

on tuesday, after buying new hiking clothing and a cozy yak wool scarf and lots of nuts and dried fruit, i ventured out to do an unguided himalaya trek with a dutch guy who has been staying at my guest house and also attended the conference. we were told this first day would be relatively easy and then the next couple days would be more intense. we started off feeling pretty good; the mountains were beautiful and we spotted some ibex, which was neat. it is hard to pinpoint exactly when the tone of the day changed. after climbing the first unexpected mountain, i let out a loud sigh of relief. and then came the second unexpected mountain. at this point, we could see the sun beginning to set. my body was not having it. someone told us later we were climbing to elevations of 4,900m. the town we'd been staying in where we'd acclimatized to the altitude was only an altitude of 3,500m. i had to take breaks every few steps. then came the third unexpected mountain. we were seriously talking about the possibility of having to sleep outside with no tent or sleeping bag because we weren't sure if we were going to make it to the guest house we'd planned to sleep at. it started getting darker and colder. at the top of the third mountain, we could see the lights of a village. i set my bag down to fish out my headlamp only to realize i had forgotten it. i realized later that while i was looking for the headlamp, the carabiner with my beloved sandals slipped off of an unbuckled strap, but i was in sheer panic survival mode, so i didn't notice. my chacos belong to the mountain now, but their legacy lives on in the form of zigzag tanlines on my feet. we used our phones as flashlights and scrambled down the mountain towards the lights. but then they disappeared. we kept walking, hoping to find the village, but after checking some maps we realized we must have missed it. so, we walked 3 more km to the next village where we finally, after about 11 hours of trekking (about 6 more than we were expecting), found tea and soup and beds. realistically, we weren't in that much danger. but i was dizzy and tired and achy and didn't know if i was going to have to sleep on a rock on a freezing mountain. the altitude sickness and emotional hangover kept me in bed the entire next day, while the family we were staying with gave us lots of food and then intently watched us eat it. then, today, we (mostly i) decided that that was enough adventure and started heading back. due to some slipping in a river and not having my sandals, i ended up walking barefoot along a road. my dutch friend joined me in shoelessness. after a whole bunch more walking, we hitchhiked back to town. we're now back at our original guest house in leh. i have no idea where i'm going next. but at least i didn't die in the himalayas.