Breath Taking Everest

I have always wanted to go to Everest Base Camp to see what the closest to the top of the world must be like. My big sister Fiona made it there some 14 years ago on her way to London. She had run into Ants (her old school friend and now my brother-in-law) in the streets of Kathmandu and later met Simon (her husband) after her trek in Chitwan National Park. She had also bought a painting of the beautiful Ama Dablam  (mother mountain for Mum) with Tengboche Monastery in the foreground and it sits pride of place in our family lounge. As a result Nepal and the Everest region screams family adventure to me. 

  

After a couple of days in Kathmandu during a strike (the country is in massive flux as it does not have a constitution or a governing majority) I met Dustin and Elan near my hostel telling them I was keen to do the Everest Base Camp trek. I had been recommended the Anapurna circuit time and time again but with recent deaths due to slips and the coming monsoon rains it seemed like tempting fate.

We made fast plans to get planes booked, sleeping bags hired, a puffer jacket, boots, trousers, socks, tee shirts, head lamps, water purification tabs, maps, permits and call our parents in a day. Ok so that was my to do list….life on the road didn’t have me terribly well prepared for trekking for what could be 20 days. Kathmandu is a brilliant place to do this as I spent about £130 for the sum of all these new bits and bobs – all rip off Marmut, North Face, Hi Tec of course! I was very anxious about the boots but I can report they were a brilliant buy for £21 and didn’t give me a single blister. A MASSIVE result for me (right Liz)!

Day 1 Kathmandu  (1337m) – Lukla (2860m) – Monjo (2835m)

We were the first at the airport for our 6.30am departure and made fast work of checking in and getting onto our little plane. As we flew through the narrow valley the Nepali woman beside me gripped my elbow for dear life and leaned in like a dear and trusted friend. I guessed I was fortunate not to have a window seat! Landing on the world’s most dangerous airfield is definitely an experience and the runway with a steep gradient dipped into the deep valley below, it was little wonder she was scared. I couldn’t help but think it was decidedly more scary than Queenstown and about as rocky as an average Wellington decent.

We collected our bags and called in at a tea house to be met by a young Sherpa named Ganji who wanted to be a porter guide to Base Camp. Initially we discussed a day rate so I might extend to do include Gokyo Ri to the west of the Everest Base camp walk and with lake filled views of Everest, recommended by my old colleague Alistair. We quickly established Ganji was eager to get to Base Camp – purely to see his brother, a mountain guide who was self-funding his own summit for the season. This created a new buzz to the adventure for sure.

Spinning the prayer wheels

The walk was gentle and exciting. We were on our way! Dustin and I enjoyed taking photos and talking to many parties looking fresh on their last day and enjoying the many villages as we walked. Carefully pushing the prayer wheels and walking to the right of all the mantra stones to aid in our fortunes of making it to EBC safely. We called in to the town of Phakting the recommended first night lodging spot and decided at 11am that we should continue on to make the hilly day ahead a little easier. I had been initially anxious that Ganji was going to run off with my bag as the LP tells of horror stories of porters abandoning you, but this was fast quashed. We finally rested in Monjo enjoying the best of our hosts garden with the traditional Dhal Bhat dish, with fresh delicious silverbeet, to get the journey started. One we would collectively regret the following day! I was to take my best shower in Nepal here and languished in the cleanliness – how many days would I go without a shower I mused!

Day 2 Monjo (m) – Namache Bazaar (3420m)

We set off with a hiss and a roar as you do. Stopping to pay our National Park fees and check in with the military on the other side of town. We strode over swing bridges and then started to slow as the imminent hill took over. The feeling of altitude and lack of fitness kicked in hard and the days trek was testing as we all stammered up to the zig zags of the hill. At one stop we met the last of the Walking for the Wounded team after their abandoned summit attempt. Taking advice on time from these guys was disheartening – at best well off our pace! The smell from the hot pine forest was intoxicating and I was transported back to childhood at Craigwillie which spurred me on. What would Nana think of all this milarky I had been up to in the past year I wondered? We called into one rest stop to be pointed out the great wonder that is Mount Everest. The cloud skirted over its back like a mane and was framed beautifully by the growing pines of the “lowland” hills.

First sight of Everest with the cloud curling off its tip, yes Lhotse looks taller!

The porters we saw on the track this day were incredible. The walk was steep and they carried loads of unbelievable weights up the tracks. 13 timber lengths was my greatest count of one porter. How he did it I have no idea....and I'm in awe of the Sherpa people for their strength on these mountains where no roads carve through the valleys and helicopters make everyday items too expensive to sustain. They are the lifeline of the region and their climbing brothers with their deep snow tans the hero's. 

We arrived in the well-established town of Namache to come across an immense market and service centre with wifi, pizza, irish bar all at your disposal. I wanted none of it, save a screening of a documentary held in Liquid Bar at 3pm called “Sherpa” giving a fascinating insight into the life of the local Sherpas as they strive to summit with their clients. We had a big adventure ahead of us and tomorrow was an acclimatisation day – where by you walk higher than you sleep. I had bought Sir Edmund Hillary’s biography “a view from the Summit” to keep me company and reading about the following days destination was part of the excitement. After some cards we had an early night, as would become the habit on the trail. 8.30 is now a dead late night!

Day 3 Namache Bazaar (3420m) – REST DAY

Dustin and I started the day with bakery food and doing a spot of washing. There is something refreshingly rewarding toiling away in glacial waters. Despite it being a rest day we had all read that the best approach to acclimatisation is to walk high and sleep low so the rest day was to take us up into the Kunde Valley, somewhere I had known about for a long time from the works of Sir Edmund Hillary and the Himalaya Trust.

Loop walk Khunde (3840m) - Khumjung (3790m)

We started off very slowly and I thought Elan and Dustin would want to ditch me as the altitude kicked in across the step zigzag terrain. We met plenty of people on the track who were to become familiar faces over the coming days assuring us we were near the top. We reached Syngboche Airstrip with its horses and then carried on over to Kunde where the Hillary Hospital is based. About 15 minutes before we reached the town we came across a mother and her small daughter (no more than 2 years old), the mother carried a water tank and the daughter dawdled beside her. I was feeling surprisingly strong by this point (knowing we had no more hills to face) I offered to carry her and slipped her onto my hip. She was delightfully bemused and when terrain became flat I attempted to put her down but she fained sleep and so had me carry her into the town borders. 

Proud Kiwi moment in the Himalayas

We briefly visited the Clinic where I was delighted to see the sign “This Hospital was built with funds raised by the Lions Club of New Zealand”. It made me think of all the bottle drives we did as kids and raffle tickets bought. Well done all those who took part all those years ago.  

With rain clouds looming we headed across the valley to Khumjung and I snuck into the Hillary School play yard to take a photo of the bronze statue of Sir Ed. He really is a hero here in the valleys for helping build schools, clinics, bridges and water programs, with the help of the Himalaya Trust of course. 

The night was completed with momos and being surrounded by descending groups including the Saudi Princess as part of the Saudi Arabian Breast Cancer. The number of medical evacuations made due to altitude sickness had us on our guard now. It seemed from tomorrow onwards we were at most risk if we went fast.

Day 4 Namache Bazaar (3420m) – Tengboche (3870m)

The previous days walk set me up brilliantly for the next days walk. We walked much of the day with Australian ex-pats Evan and Pip both living in Kathmandu for a year. They were an excellent tonic to our trio. It afforded me a chance to stretch my legs and walk on my own or with Ganji at times which I enjoyed. The walk up from Namache took us up to Khumjung level then dipped us down into the valley where we stopped for a bite to eat before the 2 hour slog up to Tengboche. I was content with my tortoise approach…slow and steady wins the race. I had a bleeding nose which paused us for a few minutes but felt ok, save the runs I had had now for two days.

Good humour at Tengboche
with Ama Dablam out the window

Arriving in Tengboche in time for the chanting at the monastery was a painful experience for me. I found sitting still and respectfully with my feet to the side very difficult. I really needed to engage in my stretching! But I was at Tengboche and to be amongst the monks that bless all expeditions and in the monastery so keenly restored after a fire devastated was something very special. I was literally standing in Mums painting. A painting from a far off land to me it seemed. Never did I really think I would see this beautiful place. I assure you Tengboche is every trekkers paradise. It sits on top of a pass with two valleys stretching down its sides. It has a holy resting place and some of the most stunning mountains surrounding it, including the immensely stunning Ama Dablam and through the valley to Mt Everest and Lhotse Face. I could pinch myself. Oh and it was the start of no running water, hay toilets and general roughing it that I had anticipated earlier…ideal in our condition!

Day 5 Tengboche (3870m) – Dingboche (4410m)

Dawn - always a worthwhile time to appreciate your surroundings
Everest in the mist through the V is Lhotse Face and
Ama Dablam to the right 

I started the day early to capture the sunrise over Ama Dablam. My photos weren’t perfect mostly as I was in awe of the place and chatted to a Dutch chap who came out to admire the beauty. We farewelled Everest sightings today, down the valley and up the otherside for lunch in Orsho. A town we had initially discussed staying in for the night. When we discovered it was a one tea house town we decided to push on again – it meant another night with Evan and Pip and we all agreed that would be fun! The anti-altitude pills had kicked in and tingling sensations in my feet had me giggling more than anything – especially after initially thinking I was getting a series blister as the tingles spread around my feet. A lunch diet of Fanta revived me from a slump – and the price paid for such tonics was now seen as a necessity not a luxury.

The terrain changed a great deal over the day moving above the tree line to barren land – not ideal when you need to take a “nature stop”! Alas the tortoise made it to Dingboche and a rest day awaited us. In my deteriorating condition I needed it! I headed straight for bed and rose to have a small dinner and an entire Diamox and some Diamide to get me through the night.

Day 6 Dingboche (4410m) REST DAY

Hands down the worst day for me on the trek. I woke to snow which despite a wonderful way to wake up made an excuse for me to snuggle indoors for the day and enjoy my new puffer jacket! Elan joined Pip and Evan on an acclimitisation walk while Dustin and I did our washing and took it easy. My easy involved Ganji and Mingma (Pip and Evans Guide) coaching me to have a Garlic Soup and with each mouthful I collapsed on the benches. I had ¾ of the soup then dropped off for an hour kip on the bench. When I woke up – I was like a new woman, albeit a fragile one. I spent the day watching Ganji and Mingma play card games and reading passages out of Sir Edmund Hillary’s biography “View from the Summit” as we debated who made it to the top first. The Sherpas believed it was Tenzing because a Sherpa always leads, but Sir Ed writes that he was cutting the steps as they reached the top. Given is renowned aptitude with step cutting I think it was Sir Edmund Hillary. I really couldn’t have survived the day without their company and despite the conspiratorial talking in Nepali debating my Hillary facts it was by far the best part of my day. I realised that the $10 a day I was paying Ganji to carry my bag he was infact doing a darn good job of carrying me with him on his energetic walk to see his brother.

Day 7 Dingboche (4410m) – Loboche (4910m)

We didn’t start the day too well as a team, I was still struggling to keep my food in, Dustin misplaced his sunglasses (so fetched a pair of ancient mountaineer goggles from a store) and Elan was eager to bound off – for us to later discover he had a terrible cold – possibly on account of quitting smoking the day we left for the Kumbu! Elan’s acclimitisation day must surely have put him in good stead as we split into two’s to tackle the day. I was super slow and Ganji and I were a team now so I felt safe in the knowledge I would not be cast off alone (a great fear I have with trekking now after a disastrous day in the Lake District with some University friends back in 2005. My motto is ‘you’re only as fast as your slowest man’).

I took some dried apricots and water at Thukla where many had stopped for lunch. The walk to the memorial at the top of a bouldered hill had me huffing, puffing and pulling over for yet another of my “nature stops”. I was getting very sick of being natural! As I reached the top I stopped curled up in a ball and started taking some period pain pills…my timing as always with the curse was impeccable. At this point I met Steph, a Kiwi-Sydneysider who was the breath of fresh air (pun intended) and distraction I needed to see me through to Loboche. Steph had news 100 had summited the day before and this gave Ganji a new found excitement and frustration at his lack of mobile reception! 

trying to get reception looked odd in the Mts!

Elan had suffered with the thinning air and his cold getting to Loboche so it was clear we would be taking a rest day tomorrow. Something we were all happy with. As we relaxed in the tea house news filtered through that there had been deaths on the mountain the previous night amongst the 100 summiteers it was said 10 had died. Ganji was obviously very anxious and agitated by the news. We spoke and I offered to do whatever he needed. News would not come through until late that night that his brother was ok – or at least no Nepalis were amongst the dead.

Day 8 Loboche (4910m) REST DAY

I woke up to a clear sunrise and thought how promising it would be for those summiting. I was reassured to see Ganji still in bed at 7am when I got up and made for a morning of sleep. Only rising at 12.16pm a little concerning but with my fitful sleep, tummy cramps, diarrhoea what more can a girl do by try and sleep it off! I had lunch with 2 Wellingtonians and noted 5 helicopters and 1 aeroplane up the valley – I guessed to take the summiteers off the mountain. Jimmy our Californian friend from the Permit Office in Kathmandu joined us around the dung fire for the night. Base Camp tomorrow – all things going to plan! I double dosed on my pain meds and tried for sleep. It wasn’t the excitement of Christmas that kept me awake sadly!

I wrote in my diary that day “dreams will come true, goals achieved, tears shed, bodies beaten, hearts a beating and patience tested – I really hope we get to meet Ganji’s brother and walk the hero home”

Day 9 Loboche (4910) – Everest Base Camp (5360m) - Gorak Shep (5160)

I had a fitful night sleep, and I couldn’t even find the energy to eat my Aluu Paratha (despite it being the best I have had in the Sub-Continent!) Elan was in pretty bad shape with his flu. I wrote “How the hell I would get to Everest Base Camp like this was beyond me. I felt bogged up, bent over & out of breath”. But its back to a quote from my mate Will Furzer – “its just one foot in front of the other Jo” – he meant that about running my first 10k race but somehow I figured if I could break it up into stages it would seem possible.

Stage 1 – Gorak Shep to drop off our bags. It took us 3 hours, over rocky terrain in thin air and with a cool breeze whipping through us. I was now wearing 2 layers of merino, a running tee shirt and a puffer jacket along with my woollen hat and my fetching new Yak scarf. I couldn’t have been more grateful for my sentimentality in taking one of Dad’s hankies with me, as my nose was running like a tap in the cold air. The sun was out and we really couldn’t have asked for better conditions.

We met all the kiwis from our travels in Gorak Shep and it was with sadness that I parted ways with them all. But they were heading down and we had yet to make it to Base Camp. Being passed an All Black Flag from the Chch brothers helped spur me on for sure…the fact I carried it and never got it out is beyond me!

Stage 2 – Mount Everest Base Camp. We collected ourselves and at 10.45 started the bouldering walk to EBC. I felt like I was flying with my latest drug intake and there was no doubt now I would make it to my destination. The terrain was stunning; Hostile and frightening in its awesomeness. We walked along raised moraine etched out for trekkers and sheltering us from the glacial cold of the Kumbu Ice Fall. And what a sight that is, withs stalagtites and ice lakes, piercing blue and frosted white. Wow! We arrived at EBC at lunch time. For many the destination is the rock which is labelled (literally with a marker pen!) “Everest Base Camp” and houses graffiti of the trekkers who come see and turn around. I added my name to the stone and with Ganji’s help we put up some Prayer Flags for the fallen trekkers and Sherpas from the previous days. It was an emotional moment but one slightly harried as Ganji desperately wanted to see his brother.

Prayer Flags raised for the fallen as we arrived at Mt Everest Base Camp

I split from the boys and went on into the village through the ice fall where the expedition teams live for 2 months and ice melts around their tents leaving mushroom like formations. We discovered after some walking (at dawdlers pace here at 5350m!) that Ganji’s brothers tent was the furthest from the rock…and a good 40 minute walk through the fall. We looked at each other in anguish – we wanted to, but could we? After making a few more inquiries we met Ganji’s cousin and he welcomed us in for tea and biscuits to celebrate…..G’s brother had made it to the summit the day before and was now in Camp IV resting. And celebrate we did, there in the tent of the Italian expedition with prosciutto and biscuits and sweet tea, with his cousin and the cook for the Argentinian expedition as well. Wow what a way to make my dreams come true. Ganji’s entire future would be written by this day. The success of his brothers expedition would be talked about amongst the Sherpas and Foreign expeditions alike. One of their own doing it on his own. Wow! In return for their generous hospitality I gifted the Nepali team some chocolate, almonds and soup I had been carrying – actually credit to Ganji again!

As we walked out of the village I met Jimmy and gave him a hug. He looked pretty flat like many of us trekkers. I’m sure after he caught his breath he would be have been grand. Ganji and I laughed and chatted like never before for the two hours it took us to get back to Gorak Shep. It was incredible what a high we were both on. Like kids at Christmas as with each step providing us with more oxygen. It started to dawn on me that the Hillary-Tenzing marathon was on in a few days and runners would have to come over the same terrain…hope they all had their knees and ankles well stapped, cos my poles were getting the work out of their Kermit Green life!

What a rollercoaster we had been on anxious about the safety of G’s brother and now elated by his success. “for me my journey had reached its ultimate pinnacle and everything from here was bound to be less breath taking (!)”. It was a cold and inhospitable night as I tried to keep the love alive by listening to my favourite playlist of Concert Highlights but this just kept waking me to remember other highs in another lifetime.  

Day 10 Gorak Shep (5160) – Orsho (m)

I didn’t even bother attempting to get up for the dawn Kallapeta trek to see Everest, which had been recommended but I had experience the human side of Everest and putting my body through more torment was not my cuppa tea! Dustin tried and failed on a weak stomach, the baton had now been passed to the healthiest member.

from the memorials to the mountains on of the Kumbu

I did something I wasn’t particularly proud of – I walked fast leaving the ailing boys behind me. Honestly I couldn’t stand conversation any longer and I felt it best for all to enjoy the descent in peace. Ganji was with me so I was safe in my surroundings. I stopped to take plenty of pictures during the course of the day and enjoyed being able to properly pay tribute to the memorial for fallen climbers and Sherpa’s above Thukla. We arrived in Orsho’s one teahouse town around 3.30pm where we took a nice rest and enjoyed watching the many many yaks heading up to Base Camp to help with the Expeditions dismantling village. It made for great Kumbu people watching.

Day 11 Orsho (m) – Namache Bazaar (3420m)

We set off shortly after the school children and after walking through the plateau we hit the valley and tree line. The instant effect of the oxygen was intoxicating and the hot smell of pine struck me again like a warm hug. We had a good climb up into Tengboche and I was distracted by a young Kiwi girl chatting away about her plans for life, at the start of her OE. I walked the final ascent into Tengboche with a high porter who had summited on the 19^th of May and carried with him a peculiar long steel rod, apparently for wifi connections – which I assume would make him a very popular bloke in the Kumbu!

I took some more photos of Mum’s painting at the back of the Monastery and enjoyed watching a monk methodically clean the white stupa I had admired a couple of days before.

As we descended into the next valley I had a bleeding nose at the same point I had had my first on the way up the hill. But it was more consistant this time. I felt fine despite it all. We stopped again for lunch at the river side deep in the valley and I had my first proper meal in 4 days. Such was the lack of appetite.

the celebrating high Sherpas on their descent.
Heroes of the Mountain

We made a decent crack at the hill initially, then, it went on and on and on and on. Jimmy and some fellow Americans passed us and then the sound of singing started to fill the valley. Ganji told me they were old Sherpa songs. He was most intrigued so we walked on until we met a group of high altitude Sherpas with tans suitable only for snowfields, with San Miguel in their hands and smiles so broad it was infectious. They had a Malaysian clientele, with little climbing experience so their risk to summit was great. We walked with these guys all the way to Namache laughing at how drunk they were and how dangerous it was – one reminded me so much of Mr P, on his phone, trying to make me dance down the mountain with him, and generally lagging behind until such time as his friend grabbed his hand and guided him down.

We enjoyed western toilets, running water and a great view from the Tibet Hotel. I wrote "Just one more day!"

Day 12 Namache Bazaar (3420) – Lukla (m)

Namache Bazaar during Festival

We set off shortly after 7am. I was anxious that with every passing minute it would mean we would have to race to Lukla to organise our flight. Ganji called ahead for us as we walked and then we got down to business – down a big hill and up the other side. Taking in two days walk on our ascent in our final day of our descent. There were plenty of city folk on the path all on their way to Namche for the 59^th Everest Ascent Festival celebrations.  I cracked a Kia Ora to a man with a Fairydown bag – to discover a Christchurch bloke looming infront of it. And then met the only black man on the mountain Wilfred and his kiwi side kick Peter – promising to buy my fellow countryman a beer on our return to Lukla. No time for lunch we had to push on to get these flights.

We arrived in Lukla at 2.45pm in time to organise the flights with the office opening at 3pm. Only to discover the airport was closed and our chances of getting on the 10am fliht the next day were slim…so we squared up with Ganji and said our farewells (although half heartedly not knowing when we would leave the small town) and indulged in our first non-teahouse meal. I had Chips while the boys had Everest Burgers and we met other stranded trekkers, making what fun we could by narrating a movie about being stuck at sea in shark infested water.

I enjoyed a beer with Peter later in the evening – chatting about life at the top where Sushi was available and Baked Salmon was on the menu. Wilfred was also said to be using wifi on his iPad in the Ice Fall during their days of trekking. Who would have thought life in a tent for two months at the top of the world would be more luxurious than the tea houses below! I guess for $50k some demands can be made.

Day 13 Lukla (m)

Sunshine turned to cloud quickly at dawn and the idea of getting out was exhausted fast. We weren’t scheduled till the 10am flight so we could wait til tomorrow. I snuggled up with my book for the morning and joined Jimmy and a Costa Rican for the afternoon of general travel chatter in the “Hard Rock Café”. I couldn’t help but remember my time in December 2010 being stuck in snow in London.

Day 14 Lukla (m)

Dawn was clear and I was optimistic, then the cloud rolled up the valley enveloping the tarmac and any hope of departure was dashed. The cloud rolled in and out periodically during the morning. During this time I had the pleasure to sit with one of the Czech expedition on Lhotse Face. The youngest of the group a hulking 35 year old sat down with me for breakfast with his beer (hair of the dog after 10 bottles of wine the night before apparently!) and candidly spoke of his love of the mountains and the loss of one of the 5 expedition members some 20-30m from the top of Lhotse Face. A father of small children he will be forever a victim of the mountains and his own desire to climb one of the most dangerous faces in the world. Its moments like this here in the Kumbu that you appreciate the passion, determination and selfishness of climbers.

Day 15 Lukla (m) – Kathmandu

With sun streaming in my window at 5am I was hopeful today would be the day to depart. Right up to 7am at the airport ready to board a flight, I remained hopeful. One flight arrived and left at 6.45am then the cloud rolled in skirting the bottom of the airstrip and up the valley. My patience had worn thin. I wanted out. I headed to the town to ring my insurance company. With some tooing and froing we were sweeped up by an expedition team and taken for a cool $400 in a helicopter out of Lukla through the cloud filled valleys to Kathmandu. The terraced heights these people live amid, dipping into deep glacial river valleys was a real eye opener. Not so great for ball games for the village children!

our great escape - thank you 1Cover Travel Insurance

I am now sitting with the Kathmandu sunset bathing me. I am cleanly showered – what more a delight I can barely behold. And I am off to join friends from the trek for a salad…I feel happy, strong and delighted with the experience.