Everest Circuit Rerouted XIII: Base Camp

Wednesday, 23 October 2013 17:30 Hrs at 4910m (Gorak Shep)

The terrain between Dingboche and Labouche is a narrow plain of grass and juniper and rock. Its ascent was fairly gentle except for the small hill immediately above the village of Tukla where we paused briefly for lunch. And by small hill, I mean something similar to the gradient and size of Sugarloaf (my father's hill) or the Lyre bird Track adjoining the 1000 Steps, Dandenongs. To the east of our trail and south of Tukla, a small collection of buildings and rock walled farm lots in the valley made up the village of Periche. It is said that when the Khumbu Glacier finally breaks free from its moorings further up the Khumbu Valley, the village of Periche will exist no longer, built in the path the glacier will travel. Our leader, Meet, advised that measures were being taken to reduce the likelihood of such an event, however one day the glacier would give way and there will be little more warning for those in its pathway than if it were a flash flood.

The way to base camp:

Labouche is a village that exists solely on the purse strings of tourism. Unlike Portse, Pangboche, Dingboche and Periche, farming is not sustainable. There are no farm lots, only teahouses and lodges that rely on the constant influx of tourists from Australia, UK and North America, Europe and Asia, all here to make the pilgrimage to Everest Base Camp or Kala Pattar or both.

The view into Gorak Shep:

Gorak Shep exists similarly as a launch point for many of those tourists. It was the original Everest Base Camp. In October and November, accommodation in Labouche and Gorak Shep must be arranged in advance due to popularity. The hike into Gorak Shep is fraught with pedestrian traffic jams, the fastest way in or out being as part of a caravan of yaks which have precedence and are always met by cries of, “Safe side, safe side,” as tourists and guides alike shift as far from the path as the snow will allow. The early snow has made the trail precariously slippery in places, either because the snow has melted too much or because it has iced over. We slipped and skidded our way into Gorak Shep at approximately 10:00hrs this morning following a 05:00hr wake up call.

After a short break for an early lunch, we then made the push for Everest Base Camp. It being autumn in Nepal and summiting season being late spring, there was no tent city to mark the camp. Instead, we recognised it by the colourful prayer flags and throng of milling tourists, each vying to have their photograph taken at the infamous ‘Base Camp’. There was, however, no formal signage. The camp itself being impermanent due to the shifting nature of the glacier on which it exists, there can be no one fixed sign. In the background, the would be Everest summiteers must negotiate a (mostly) solid wall of ice that from Base Camp appears deceptively small against the enormity of what we can see of the mountain, which is very little at all.

Base Camp:

To reach Base Camp, trekkers must contend with a rocky moraine and a rock fall. During less than favourable conditions, when the cloud comes in, I understand that it is very easy to get lost on the moraine. However, with the path cut into the snow, we could see the way laid out before us ridge to rocky ridge, and where it was not so clear, there was always a bobbing, moving tide of coloured beanies and caps, and bright gaiters and jackets to mark the way. These ridges went on for some time.

The rock fall crossing:

We could see Base Camp slowly advancing in the distance (I personally was able to identify the camp by the icefall behind it) while at every crest there was a new gully and a new ridge awaiting us. Not that the trek could be undertaken head up. Much of the trail was either rock or ice. Rock was preferable – we could skip between them easily enough, particularly using one walking pole for balance. Ice was more difficult. It was not always immediately obvious whether the snow was slush or frozen over again. Both falls I had were on ice and in both instances it was my camera I tried to save first. Successfully, I might add. The snow for all its hazard, however, added to the spectacular view. The moraine, a sweeping tundra of grey rock, was utterly transformed into snowy rock cropped valleys and ridges and ice lakes with ice waterfalls. It was truly magnificent.

Returning to Gorak Shep:

(Postscript: The contrast provided by the snow made for spectacular photographs. While it was disappointing that we were not able to summit Gokyo Ri or cross the Cho La because of it, and we were prone to falling over, I do not regret the experience of hiking through the snow. As someone that loves a good picture and carried a DSLR by hand most of the journey, the memories I captured on camera have such amazing depth and contrast, I doubt I could have achieved otherwise. If you are an avid photographer, it would be well worth bearing that in mind when considering making the pilgrimage for yourself. The snow we experienced was certainly not the norm for that time of year and was the result of typhoons throughout South East Asia.)

Everest Circuit Rerouted XII: The Most Beautiful Mountain

Monday, 21 October 2013 11:47 Hrs at 4330m (Dingboche)

The trail from Pangboche to Dingboche meanders along the Imja Kola. It is, at least in October, a well travelled route as today we passed by a very many trekkers, porters, local people and yaks both ascending and descending the Khumbu Valley. Opposite, Ama Dablam remained our constant companion, growing as we drew ever nearer. It is a no wonder that the monolithic peaks must be summated from the other side. Much of the mountainside backing onto the Khumbu Valley is covered in great rock slides. Although, trails can still be seen cleaving the snow on its sides.

Ama Dablam:

Dingboche is one of the largest villages we have had the pleasure of residing – if ever so briefly – in. At above 4000m, it too had seen snow fall. However we were spared trudging through it by the beautiful weather, for today it really is very beautiful. Hardly a cloud to mar the pristine blue sky as it clings only to the surrounding peaks. What snow remains, hides in the shadows of the Mani walls or juniper bushes or buildings, waiting for its inevitable turn to melt. It cannot be denied that we, all of us, were excited and relieved to spy the distinctive orange tents marking our campsite. The walk was not long nor was it arduous. But hiding noses burnt by our last foray into the snowy altitudes in excess of 4000m is no easy task. It was not enough to wear a cap or liberally apply SPF50 at 2 hour intervals to remain protected from the UV rays, or so I discovered. Instead, I tried to pull my buff up over my nose and ears, and tuck it beneath my grey cap and polarised sunglasses which was all very well and good until we started climbing again, as we invariably do, and the sun made breathing through the thin material a stifling, suffocating experience and I was forced to tear it down over my chin again, panting to catch my breath.

Having spent some time already of 4000m, and over a week above 3000m, I have developed some functional acclimatisation. We all have, as is evident by our faster ascent these last 2 days. The steep inclines are wearing, and paying heed to all the long distance running I did in training, I constantly remind myself to keep my breathing under control. It is not possible to align it to the pace of my steps, the terrain being largely irregular and thus so being my stride. But I normally aim for a 2 beat rhythm. In, in. Out, out. In, in. Out, out. The neck buff comes off when my breathing becomes erratic.

When it comes to mornings and evenings, however, as the villagers burn juniper, I am not so quick to remove it. The burning juniper, while having a rather pleasant aroma, does little for our dry throats. Central to Buddhism practiced in the Himalayas, juniper is considered purifying. It is said that when the Lama entered Nepal from Tibet, he cut his hair by the stupa he built in Pangboche and from it juniper sprouted. Even in Dingboche, well above the tree line, the hardy little shrub continues to grow. Indeed, I can see juniper grow right up until the black rock begins, several hundred metres above the town, where no other sizeable vegetation can be seen.

Perhaps tomorrow in Labouche, we will see the end of the juniper, our ascent 600m from Dingboche. This exceeds the mountain rule of 300m, however it will be, I understand, only 150m higher than our greatest altitude which we experienced in Gokyo only 3 nights ago. The trek will take approximately 6 hours with only a little melting snow, and then we will be back on our itinerary. Whether we next visit Kala Pattar or Everest Base Camp will depend on the weather. Having missed the opportunity to safely ascend Gokyo Ri, it is more important to ascend Kala Pattar on a clear day. Although, it must be mentioned that another guide we encountered during lunch at Portse 2 days ago advised our leader, Meet that the snow at Kala Pattar was waist high. Let us hope that it has sufficiently melted in the next few days. Likewise, we heard tonight that Everest Base Camp had been re-opened, following the unseasonable snow last week.

Stupa near Dingboche looking toward Taboche and Cholatse:

It is truly amazing how word of mouth is so important here. There is very little in the way of a scientific weather mapping system. Meet relies on the knowledge of the local villagers or our sirdar and guides, and other descending leaders and guides. This applies also to avalanche zones, through which our sirdar, Padam with his 30+ years of experience went ahead to review the conditions. It was only on the return journey that our other sherpa guide, D.B. shared his experience when a camp for which he was the cook made the sudden decision to abandon a camp between Machermo and Gokyo, and the kitchen team remained behind to mind the gear. D.B., after digging himself out of the subsequent avalanche, saved 4 more of the 5 remaining buried. It does not surprise me then that he was so uncomfortable in Gokyo.

The Nepalese are truly a wonderful and giving people. Today being my birthday, Meet presented me with a khata (a cream traditional ceremonial Tibetan Buddhist scarf) similar to those that I have seen tied alongside the prayer flags on the suspension bridges and around religious monuments. He told me to wear it for the day which I happily did, tied neatly around my neck and tucked into the front of my shirt. It is presently folded away in my camera bag for safe return to Australia. And then to my utter surprise, this evening, Krishna the cook walked in with a sponge cake made without the use of an oven by a process that sounded very much like steaming the cake. It was one of the most lovely gestures of my day, after the khata and Meet giving me his own tent so that I could have one of my own. I do not know how I could ever possibly reply the generosity and kindness that he has demonstrated to me in just 12 short hours. I am just so overwhelmed by how caring almost total strangers can be, Nepalese and Australians alike (I’ll even include the naturalised Australians here, as our group does contain 2 very fine specimens).

It was a small shame that I could not get any reception on by phone here, but the weather and the company and the cake was all so very fine that it is such a small thing to miss. And no doubt my international roaming will kick in sooner or later and I can check for messages from my family and closest friends. But now it is getting late and I must retire. It has been a very long day.