| Oct 31, 2005 - The Twelve Days of Everest.
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 | | show all 8 | | Our puddle jumping plane | | local porter with beer load! | | dzopchiok grabbing a quick snack | | |
| This story actually begins as we traveled overland from Varanasi, India to Kathmandu, Nepal. We decided to save a little $$ and instead of a two hour flight costing $200 to Kathmandu we would spend around $20 and take a train, taxi and bus to 'see the scenery' for what should have been around 18 hours of travel time. Silly thinking. It all started with Hindus and Muslims fighting at the next train station which resulted in our train being cancelled. We teamed up with some other travelers from Denmark and negotiated our way onto another train 1.5 hours later which took nearly 15 hours to Gorakpur. From Gorakpur we got off the train, slightly dazed and confused, and secured a jeep, which we 5 tourists and our bags smashed into together with five locals (in the front seat) and headed for the Nepal border. Of course, the driver tried to pick up a few others along the way, but to our protests they instead hung off the back of the jeep for the journey. Wouldn't you know, less than 20 minutes from the border the jeep broke down (or ran out of gas.) I watched as the gas gauge didn't move off 1/4 tank the whole trip. Either way, we paid the driver 2/3 of what we negotiated and hopped into what looked like a toy truck (along with the three other tourists and baggage) for the rest of the way. After making our way through customs and obtaining visas we decided to stay a night in the dingy border town of Sonnauli. We realized the next morning that we missed the only air con. tourist bus to Kathmandu. (It is really hit or miss getting good information on these type of things despite consulting multiple sources.) The next thing we knew we were on a local bus which moved for no more than 10 minutes at a time without stopping to crowd more people onto the bus (there were even people sitting on the roof with our bags!) Just when I thought I could take no more, sitting on my hands and biting my tongue, we came to a complete standstill due to a truck accident. It was dark, no lights, just sitting there backed up for miles and hours. AAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!! 15 hours from the time we left the border we arrived in Kathmandu.
During our bus journey we befriended a local family who are Hindus. Bhupendra worked for the Red Cross for many years and is currently involved in public works (water and waste management.) In the typical hospitality of most of these countries, they invited us to their home for dinner. Slightly nervous given our upcoming 12 day trek to Everest Base camp and the implications of eating homecookin' we agreed with the stipulation that we are predominately vegetarian. It was so kind of them to host us, yet so awkward! We were poorly versed in local customs and committed such faux pas as reaching for food with the left hand (this is a no-no...the 'hygiene hand' if you know what I mean.) Paul was served goat and when I asked him how it tasted he replied "it tastes pretty much like beef," (Cows are sacred to Hindus!!) As we showed their kids some digital photos of our travels Paul came upon the bullfight photos. Again, COWS ARE SACRED, not slaughtered 7 at a time for entertainment!! All in all, they were so kind and genuinely tried to put us at ease. Unfortunately, Bhupendra called and/or showed up at our hotel every day until we left for our trek. (It turns out he wants us to sponsor him in the U.S. to do a PhD.)
At last our trek to Everest began and I'll give a few excerpts from my journal:
Day 1: We boarded a tiny plane with our fellow trekkers whom we met in Kathmandu, Michelle from the UK who is my age and has been teaching English in Taiwan for the last couple of years and Jason from Kansas who is 24, never at a loss for words, has been traveling since finishing college. We had a relatively smooth flight parallel to the mountains and landed on a small uphill tarmac on a cliff's edge at Lukla (elevation 2800m.) Lukla is eight days walk from the nearest roads with motor vehicles. From here on it is feet, pack animals and, conditions permitting, helicopters. We began our trek after a tea under the guidance of Mingma and his friend Kumar, two Sherpas from this relative area (we also had two porters to carry our bags). The weather was misty with fog and the stone path took us down dramatic mountainside with small gray stone houses puffing smoke out the chimneys and matching stone fences. We encountered convoys of dzopchioks (crossbreed of sterilized yaks used as pack animals) with their plush fur coats hauling everything from tourist bags to local supplies. We were fascinated by these beasts who meandered off the trail for a snack at any opportunity the herder looks away. Our hike continued alongside a rushing milky river and eventually over a rickety suspension footbridge past our first Buddhist stupas which we spun the prayer wheels for good luck. We spent our first chilly night in a quaint woody lodge in Phak Ding (2610m.)
Day 2 - It rained hard all night which was a little anxiety provoking for the following day's hike, but to our delight we awoke to sun and snow dusted peak views outside our window. We took winding paths through more villages sharing the trails with the dzopchioks and heavily burdeoned, skinny local porters with poor footwear that traveled at twice our speed. I quickly learned to YIELD to the dzopchiok beasts after being knocked off my feet as one of the bags on it's back hit me. Paul liked to laugh at me as I panicked each time I heard the clunking of the bells around their necks signaling their approach on the trail; to stand by the edge of the path and risk getting knocked over the edge or stand on mountainside of the trail and risk being smashed?...that was the question... The tenuous suspension bridges got higher and higher above the river and breath was becoming harder to keep as we ascended into higher altitude. We spent two nights to acclimate at the buzzing terraced town of Namche Bazaar (3440m.) Namche is a sherpa hub with trekkers milling around colorful stalls of beaded, woven crafts and trekking gear.
Day 3 - We took a quick local hike to catch our first views of Everest. After about an hour the fog burned off and we furiously snapped shots of Everest peak. Afterward, we wandered through the local market which happens each Saturday and people haul their goods on yaks from as far as Tibet. Hot peppers, bananas and oranges, and basic household pots pans and hygiene supplies are what are sold at this outdoor market.
Day 4 - I remember little of this day except the painstaking uphill climb after lunch. Paul and I were eager to get a jump on it so we left the others at lunch and began the climb. We developed combined ailments of chest pain, chills/fever, vomiting and diarrhea. The others overtook us on the trail and we eventually arrived at the picturesque Tengboche. I didn't appreciate the beauty of this place because after helping Paul into his sleeping bag, I pulled into the fetal position, myself.
Day 5 - This morning we were graced by the presence of some prominent physicians from the Boston area staying at our teahouse. Drs. Frank Basilico and Judy Walingunda were kind enough to listen to my chest, tap on me and ask some questions before they deduced I was having reflux, causing the chest pain and exacerbating my asthma. Paul got a better handle on his symptoms too. Tengboche is a small plateau that sits in the shadows of some of the giant peaks including Everest, Lhotse and Ama Dablam. There is a monastery sitting on slightly elevated ground with burgandy robed Buddhist monks walking around. Aside from this, there were a few little bakeries, a tented camp and some grazing yaks. We completed a breathtakingly beautiful 4 hour trek across mountain ridges with the glacial river rushing below and cobalt blue skies above. We arrived around 4pm at another cluster of wooden lodges, a village known as Dingboche.
Day 6 - Ahh, another acclimation or rest day. A hot shower, wash the socks, play with the local dog and chat with other travelers Aron and Jen from Banf, Canada who completed a trek at Annapurna and decided to try Khumbu Valley (Everest region) for a little more scenery.
Day 7 - The hike to Lobuje. We had another lung burning (but rewarding) hill climb and at the top was an area dedicated to those who've lost their lives to the mountains. The memorials were cemented stone piles draped with faded Buddhist prayer flags and usually a crude plaque honoring the fallen climber. We saw Scott Fischer's (of "INTO THIN AIR" fame) an American Everest guide who famously died among several others in a storm on Everest in 1996. As we walked beyond the memorials the terrain begain to change, we found ourselves above the treeline and started to see snow on the ground. We walked along what felt like a dry rocky riverbed (glacial path) in a shaded valley until arriving at Lobuje.
Day 8 - Lobuje was probably our least favorite accomodation. Or at least by this time we started to realize that the menus were carbon copies at each teahouse featuring local dish Dal Baat which is rice, lentil soup and curried vegetables (for most local people, this is the only thing they ever eat!) and few other carbohydrate options. Sadly, we became excited when our squat toilet was indoors vs. outdoors. The nights up high are COLD and the teahouse rooms unheated except for the main dining room which everyone huddles around a wood burning stove. Luckily we began to see friendly familiar faces along the trails, such as a couple, Shoshanna and Issa from Australia. Early in the morning we set out for Gorak Shep - the jumping off point for base camp and Kala Pathar treks. This was the coldest morning, the tiny plants on the ground were crusted with frost and crunched underfoot. After a two hour hike to and quick breakfast at Gorak Shep we pursued on to Everest Base Camp. We walked along the glacier for what seemed like forever up and down through gently rising and falling rocky terrain. In the distance, a downed blue helicopter came into view which was deceivingly unclose. At long last we arrived at base camp and not undisappointingly didn't see but a glimpse of Everest peak (we were forewarned this would be the case.) Instead we saw the dramatic icefalls leading in the direction of the ascent. I developed a crushing altitude headache which kept my head in my hands while the others took photos of the deserted rocky base camp and helicopter wrecks. This was the longest, hardest day.
Day 9 - Early rise for 6a.m. climb of Kala Pathar, our summit of the trek. A grueling 2 hour vertical climb with Everest, Pumori and other giant peaks laughing down at us. At long last I made the final rocky summit and joined Jason and Paul (who, of course, preceded me) for some hot juice and granola bars (courtesy of Mingma and Kumar.) It felt like a real triumph for a wheezing girl like me to make it to the top. We got some summit shots with other peaks and flapping prayer flags in the background. After our summit, we joined Michelle and began retracing our footsteps down the Khumbu valley culminating in the village of Pheriche for the night. As we entered the valley in which Pheriche sits, a blanket of fog drifted down on us which seemed to amplify the sights and sounds. The thorny juniper bushes were a brilliantly scarlet hue and lay low on the ground and sides of the valley. The juniper have a sweet, syrupy smell that the guides warned us not to inhale too deeply (can cause headache.) We saw stray, long haired yaks grazing aimlessly. Pheriche has one of the closest, main medical clinics and helicopter pad. In front of the clinic is a steely mountain memorial bisected with the names of Everest victims inscibed inside each half. They say 1 in 10 people who attempt Everest summit perish during the expedition.
Day 10 - While the other two, Jason and Michelle, with guide Kumar made off for a marathon 8 hour trek to Namche Bazaar, Paul and I decided to pace ourselves to recover from the previous long days and savor the last of the Himalayan scenery. Mingma, Paul and I made a four hour haul back to Tengboche for an overnight. This was the beautiful monastery village that we missed out on do to illness the first passthru. This time we unwound from our day at a bakery which smelled like heaven and the ovenbaked pizza was so great we ate three between the two of us!
Day 11 - In the morning we stepped into the monastery during the Buddhist monks' chanting and watched some of the ritual presided over by a lama. Juniper incense burned and some of the monks played cymbal, gong and trumpetlike instrument to accompany the chanting. Ater taking in this bit of culture we resumed a four hour journey through familiar territory in warm sun to Namche Bazaar. We changed our accomodation from the one which Paul was convinced gave him a vicious food poisioning to one which Jimmy Carter stayed in 1985. We lazed in the lovely dining room for hours looking at all of the picturebooks signed by politicians and celebrity climbers.
Day 12 - I had a dreams after this eight hour day of steep downhill (and uphill) navigating narrow stone steps trying to avoid a twisted ankle. At long last we arrived back to Lukla for a final chilly overnight in a woody mountain lodge before a seven a.m. flight back to Kathmandu. The K-Too steakhouse tonight with fellow trekkers, clean hotel with western toilet, hot shower...hopefully the room is ready by now! |
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