Sandi is a Rambler based between the coast and the Kootenays in western Canada. She has been an educator, a community festival co-producer/artistic director, a street vendor, and a house cleaner over the last five decades. She now divides her time between her Kootenay garden, various music festivals, conscious dance events, and exploring different parts of the world during the months when gardening at home isn’t an option.
One of the most interesting aspects of traveling in Bhutan is the interweaving of mythology, Vajrayana Buddhism, and history. If there is one figure you will encounter repeatedly in Bhutan who exemplifies this, it's Padma Sambhava, more commonly referred to here as "Guru Rinpoche."
This Indian tantric master, credited with bringing Buddhism to Tibet and Bhutan in the 8th Century, came to a cave tucked into a sheer rock face to meditate for three years, three months, three weeks, and three days before battling and defeating a local malicious spirit. Bhutanese history includes many stories of Buddhist luminaries battling ogres, monsters, and tricky local deities but always emerging triumphant. Ask about a pair of indentations in a rock, and you might get a story about a goddess' horse leaving its hoof-prints as proof of her victory.
Unlike Guru Rinpoche, who rode here from Tibet astride a flying Tigress, we are looking at a ramble that will take us on foot from the trailhead at 2200 meters and another 900 meters up to the monastery complex known as "Paro Taktsang" or the "Tiger's Lair." We are glad that this particular trek comes at the end of our time here after we have undertaken a number of full-day and half-day hikes at altitudes that (we hope) have prepared us for this.
Looking down into the Paro Valley from less than halfway up the trail.
Setting out from the parking area, we see vendors with walking sticks and, for those preferring to forego the first half of the ascent, mules for hire. Looking up, we catch a glimpse of our destination. There it sits...or seems to hang. When the temple was originally constructed around the holy meditation cave in 1692, it was described as "anchored to the cliff by the hair strands of angels." And it does seem, from some of the vantage points we experience over the three-hour ascent, to float, to be in suspension in defiance of gravity.
Prayer wheels mark the halfway point, located right before the conveniently-located “teahouse” that has been expanded and provides lattés, vegetarian buffet lunch and bevvies.
After a fairly gentle start alongside a stream meandering through a pine and fir forest punctuated with chortens (Tibetan Buddhist shrines or monuments) and prayer wheels, we head up a steeper grade along the rather wide dirt trail. It's dry and kind of sandy, which is not an issue going up, but I'm taking mental notes for the return descent.
The backfilled wooden logs that ascend the numerous switchbacks were created when guides between 1998 and 2016 completely rebuilt the trail. At times, the trail is wide enough to accommodate several people; at other points, it narrows so much that we need to move in single file.
A couple of mules approach and walkers shift to the cliffside to let them pass. Sharing the trail with mules that have a reputation for injuring themselves and others is a worrisome prospect, as we encounter more steep embankments dropping away from the trail.
After the first half-kilometer, the riders get a new separate trail up to the hitching posts, indicating we've arrived at the rather luxurious new cafeteria that has replaced the old teahouse. And what a cafeteria it is! - The halfway point is where you can enjoy the momos (a steamed filled dumpling) and other delights of the vegetarian buffet and sip your cappuccino on the spacious deck while you look directly across the monastery.
Everyone's got their phones out. People are patiently waiting for a spot along the railing for that Insta-perfect selfie. We're two kilometers up the trail now and have another two to go. For some, the trek to this spectacular vista will be the end of the trail.
Ah, but the second part of the trail? It's different. Initially, it's more slogging up packed-dirt switchbacks, but soon, I'm ecstatically wandering through a forest where each inhalation is filled with fresh scents, and the thick mossy oaks and colossal rhododendron trees draped in long swaths of lichen wind their branches into thin air and arch over us, providing much-appreciated shade as the morning begins to heat up.
According to the local lore, the original temple here, built in the 1600’s, was attached to the cliff with strands of angel hair.
It is along this relatively gentle stretch that I start to notice shapes carved into some of the rocks. I ask a nearby guide who is shepherding other travelers along the trail what these are. He tells me these are Bon carvings, made either by those who predated Guru Rinpoche's arrival here or by those who held onto the "subdued" animist beliefs. We round a corner and are at "the First Lookout." Despite the relative ease of this last half-kilometer, we are now above the Tiger's Lair!
Peering down, I scan the zig-zag of stairs carved out of the rock face we are standing atop. The sun is bright, the winds are strengthening, and it looks like we've got a few hundred steps down this exposed cliff face to descend. The almost-panoramic view across to the temple and beyond, into the deep green sea of mountains, is certainly spectacular, but for the next 10 minutes, I am pretty much looking at my feet, stepping carefully, being mindful of returning pilgrims who now need to get up these block-y stairs, and feeling profound gratitude for the recent addition of handrails along this stretch. Honestly, without these railings? I would be turning around and heading back to that cafeteria, looking for more than coffee.
I'm attentive, but my mind drifts a bit; I can't help but imagine generations of pilgrims braving a much more rudimentary cliffside trail to show their gratitude and devotion to Guru Rinpoche. It would have been an arduous, even dangerous journey. Locals can remember parents packing their kids all the way up to the Tiger's Lair on their backs. Locals will also tell you that some pilgrims didn't make it.
Imagine: generations of dedicated builders and artisans who lugged tools and building materials up centuries ago to create the richly ornamented temples and residences around the caves that housed the various shrines. Imagine the work of carving these steps into rock with an abyss yawning hundreds of meters below you.
Imagine that a fire ravages this sacred site, and the entire complex is rebuilt over seven years. This disastrous fire actually happened in 1998; the rebuilding, with a meticulous focus on architectural and artistic detail, was spearheaded by the Fourth King of Bhutan. After several years of painstaking rebuilding and restoration, Paro Taktsang was reopened to the public in 2005.
About halfway down the steep stairs at Second Lookout, we stop to look back up to First Lookout. There are some rest benches here, and I make a mental note that I'm probably going to need a rest here on the return trip. Once again, we are directly across from the complex, but ah!--so much closer!
Down, down, down until we arrive at the bridge that crosses the chasm, where strings of prayer flags flutter in the canyon winds, a waterfall plummets out from the rock cleft, then rushes down beneath the bridge before disappearing into the dark gorge beneath and beyond. And now, on the other side of the bridge, in the shade and wind, we make what appears to be the final ascent up to Taktsang.
It is the hardest part of the journey, actually. After making our way down a few hundred steps, those 250 steps before us loom larger than life. As does the cluster of buildings that make up the Taktsang complex. But, while it is a slog for most pilgrim-trekkers at this point, the pilgrimage proves to be worth the effort.
We have to lock up our backpacks, phones, & cameras. Photography in this complex, as in all of Bhutan's temples, is forbidden. Here, no photos beyond the first gate, and there are security people gently enforcing the rule. Even our trusty trekking poles need to be left at the stone gate, which means that with legs that are feeling a little wobbly, there isn't going to be much support going up the 20 or so big stone block steps that will take us to the first building's entrance. And once we're up at the entrance level, there is a karmic test that feels oddly like a party game or a sobriety check.
The lakhang, the four main temples of this rambling "Tiger's Lair," have been built, expanded, and rebuilt over the centuries around eight caves. Around and atop the lakhang are monastic residences, accessed by the monks who work and study here via a labyrinth of passageways, staircases, and ladders.
Removing our shoes, we take three giant steps up into what seems like an antechamber illuminated with butter lamps. From here, we are led through a series of stairways and passages into beautiful temple chambers, where we encounter the shrines we have now become familiar with.
They are always awe-and-silence inspiring, taking one into spiritual contemplation through a rich sensory experience that includes rainbow brocades, golden statues of Buddhas, saints, and sages, meticulously hand-painted thankas, prayer wheels, the thick smoke of freshly hand-rolled incense, dorjes, conch shells, bells, and often, the sound of monks chanting, sometimes accompanied by ritual drums and the drone of dungchen horns.
Underfoot, huge polished wooden floor planks in widths that leave you wondering about the giants they were cut from. At this particular temple, there are many depictions of various aspects and incarnations of Guru Rinpoche, predominantly, who flew here on the back of a flying tiger to fight and subdue a local demoness. Each lakhang in Bhutan will house some highly revered Buddhist relics: here, there are several ranging from the caves themselves to the "self-arising" body imprint of Padmasambhava in rock.
Our guide, Bijay, senses that we feel a bit uncomfortable with the small but chatty tour groups coming in and out of the chapel, where monks sculpt waxy hard butter into beautiful offerings called torma. He leads us over a rickety wooden bridge and along a passageway that leads to what is presumably the sweet spot, another temple that, for now, is quiet. We are encouraged to sit here in peace for a while, meditating, resting, contemplating this journey. It's been a long walk. It's been a lot to take in. It feels good to sit. Just here, now, in near-silence. In sunlight.
Note: I want to acknowledge the excellent service we had from Bhutan Travel Club. Pelden and his crew took such good care of us, and gave me a lot of flexibility in planning a personal itinerary that included a couple of homestays. For more information, visit their website: Bhutan Travel Club
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