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.

Everest Circuit Rerouted X: You Shall Not Pass!

Saturday, 19 October 2013 14:35 Hrs at 4000m (Dole)

The snow we initially encountered just above our last visit to Dole grew substantially deeper as we made the push for Gokyo yesterday. There was some debate regarding whether we should try for Gokyo at all or reroute directly from Machermo. The passage to Gokyo passing through an avalanche zone after a few days warm weather since the snow was deposited in the valley – the worst snow experienced at this time of year for 17 years, according to the locals – we relied on local knowledge and the experience of our leader and sirdar. It was clear on both our journey to and from Gokyo that there had been a number of small avalanches. Ice steps had been tramped or cut into the sides of some of these, as other trekkers or porters cut the trail earlier in the morning. We had to pass through the avalanche zone in the morning before the sun made the snow too slick. As it was, even though we re-crossed it this morning earlier than yesterday, the ice steps were not as firm and we, at times, found ourselves skidding frequently, even with our trekking poles out to assist us.

Cho La being completely closed at present and more snow forecasted, a decision was made to spend only one night in Gokyo and to forgo the ascent of Gokyo Ri to ensure we were well clear of Gokyo before it became snowed in again. After an early start of trekking at 07:00hrs, we had descended to Marchermo by 09:50hrs (the slower group arrived nearer to 10:30hrs) and had an early lunch. We subsequently departed Machermo at 12:00hrs and after an initial ascent, descended to Dole by 14:00hrs. The recent good weather saw much of the snow melted within an hour of Dole. The path had become slick with mud instead of snow slush. Being a Saturday, it was fortunate that there were not so many yaks muddying up the trail any further.

View of Gokyo Valley:

Tonight we stay at a permanent campsite in Dole and tomorrow we will return to Portse Tenga where we will take the trail up the Khumbu Valley. We will make a wilderness camp at Pangboche. Then we will spend a night at Dingboche and pick up our itinerary at Labouche, which is before Gorak Shep and Everest Base Camp.

Gokyo Ri, as of yesterday, was only summitable by mountaineers. The trail had only been broken to within 20 metres of the summit and with the snow already waist deep in Gokyo, it was even more heavily snowed in again. As unfortunate as it was not to be able to climb Gokyo Ri or pass through the Cho La, we still have opportunity to make Everest Base Camp and Kala Pattar without adding any really long days to our schedule. Today was 5 hours of trekking for the faster group lead by Basu. Had we remained in Gokyo to ascend Gokyo Ri, there would have been a 9 – 10 hour hike to Portse Tenga and an 8 hour hike to Dingboche (if we did not get snowed in). Due to melting snow, we could not have as safely departed from Gokyo in the afternoon.

The lakes of Gokyo, however, were well worth seeing and it was no great loss to pass them by twice. There are, I believe, 5 in total. We saw the first 3, the township of Gokyo overlooking the third on one side with Renjo La on the other and Gokyo Ri appearing deceptively small just up the valley in front of Cho Oyu. When the afternoon sun struck the third lake, it was a beautiful green amidst all the white snow and black rock. Truly stunning. I spent the afternoon traipsing through the paths cut by the locals, tripod in one hand, camera in the other, tyring to take a photograph that would do this beautiful lake justice and sinking waist deep into virgin snow for my troubles. (Trying to get back out of waist deep snow without using my hands must have been quite a sight as I was not long legged enough just to high step out of it!)

The perfect shot:

Surely it must be snowing in Gokyo presently. It is now after dinner and we have retired to our tents. After a good 15 or 20 minutes organising my gear on the spare bed for morning, it is still only 19:20hrs. Outside, the cloud is very low, clinging to our head lamps as we negotiate our way to the dining hall, the toilets and the tents. There was even light precipitation and tomorrow, I am told, it may rain again. All this drawing the Nepalese to the conclusion that it must be snowing at higher altitude and, therefore, it was lucky we left today before we were snowed in.

Routine has become very important to us. So much of our daily activities being outside our control or influence, we rely on the routine set for us and are as a group happiest when the routine is met. “6, 7, 8.” That is Meet’s way of informing us that we will proceed with our normal morning routine of tea at 06:00hrs, breakfast at 07:00hrs and departing camp at 08:00hrs. Washing water normally appears at our door (tent or otherwise) at 06:15 and 15:30hrs. Afternoon tea is at 16:00hrs. Dinner at 18:00hrs. Lunch depends on when we arrive at certain destinations and could be anywhere between 11:00 and 13:00hrs. We have learnt to take our own snacks for morning tea. I have a stash of mini Mars bars and Toblerone which I take one of each with me every day. Often I will take something squirreled from breakfast, like a boiled egg or peanut butter and jam on toast. I have never eaten so well as I have here, although yesterday at almost 5000m, my appetite was waning. I could hardly stomach one piece of buffalo and after that, everything else on the plate did not appeal to me. The others fared similarly.


Postscript: A lack in appetite at 5000+ metres is associated with the altitude. I personally had stomach only for soup and Pringles, and was not the only one in our group that felt that way. I think we all craved salt from sweating under the even moderate exertion of the trek.

Everest Circuit Rerouted IX: Machermo Porter Shelter & Rescue Post

Thursday, 17 October 2013 19:57 Hrs at 4470m (Machermo)

As rain fell in Namche Bazaar, so did snow in Machermo. It is knee deep in some places and in others maybe more. The peaks surrounding Machermo are little more than black rocks to the locals but with the recent dusting, it has become completely transformed into a valley of exquisite views. The white cut through by small stone buildings or walls, or by the heavy tread of yaks and trekkers and Nepalese alike.

The yaks intrigue us greatly to the horror of our sherpa guide, Basu. We all stand on the path with our cameras poised to capture a truly Nepalese photograph as he calls to us: “Safe side, safe side,” by which he means for us to keep to the uphill side of the trail in the event that we do get knocked over by one of these great, plodding beasts. Better to fall up the hill than down it. Although it certainly is interesting trying to step off the trail into thigh high virgin snow.

Of limited experience as I am with snow, I found it absolutely fascinating trekking through it. We passed the snow line quite early, within an hour or so of leaving camp, and I was surprised by how warm it was. I need only pull the hood of my Patagonia R1 over my head and sleeves down when the wind came up the valley. It was, otherwise, too hot to trek in a hard or soft shell. The trail was slick with mud and every step was with careful consideration. The use of a single hiking pole helped keep me on my feet when the step taken was not considered carefully enough and I skidded or slipped, most often on the declining slopes. I tried to remember to dig my heels in, but when it came to the last descent before camp – which Basu himself almost skied down in his leather hiking boots – I went off track using the deep steps made by other intrepid trekkers.

In Machermo there is an established porter refuge and medical centre called the Machermo Porter Shelter and Rescue Post. It offers porters with free accommodation and medical treatment including treatment of Acute Mountain Sickness or AMS, as provided by volunteer doctors from the UK. Westerners and travellers may utilise the medical services also but for a fee comparable to that in the US (at approximately $50 per consultation which is redeemable on travel insurance). A fee that assists to maintain the rescue post so that it continues to be free for the porters. Every afternoon at approximately 15:00hrs, the volunteers provide a free presentation on AMS, HAPE and HACE, and on the general wellbeing of the porters. For a nominal fee of 100 rupees (or USD$1.00), they will measure your blood oxygenation levels which are recorded as part of a study on normal oxygenation levels and acclimatisation at 4500m per age group. The wall was covered in names recording their value. Mine was 90-91% without Diamox (I have yet to require it); a very average figure judging by the number of names stuck to the wall against 90%. The highest in the group was 97% (on Diamox) and the lowest 80% (without Diamox). One of our porters was 97% also and the doctors were so pleased with his acclimatisation and his gear outfitting, as provided by World Expeditions, that they requested to take his photo in front of the centre.

The talk itself was really very moving. It amazed and horrified me that porters are often left to find their own accommodation at night and where there is none available, sleep in caves or under the stars. I could not imagine being so barbaric. Since the founding of the International Porter Protection Group approximately 10 years ago, tour groups more and more, have been better at outfitting and caring for their porters as trekkers with greater awareness know now to ask these questions of trekking agencies. Still, however, sick porters are turned away to make their way down alone, sometimes suffering HACE or HAPE. Only in Dole we watched on with disgust as another trekker made it clear to his porter he would rather the porter-guide not share his room that night nevermind that the porter was trying to convey to him that there was nowhere else for him to stay.

(Postscript: The volunteer doctors advised us all of an incident in which an unsupported trekker, having attended the AMS talk at the Rescue Post, came across a very unwell porter on his ascent toward Gokyo. The trekker had been unable to communicate with the porter but he soon located another Nepalese porter or guide and was able to communicate his concern that the unwell porter may have AMS. The porter was carried down to Machermo by the Nepalese porter or guide and despite being placed in an oxygen tent, needed urgent evacuation to lower altitude. The volunteers were able to fundraise the money required to evacuate the sick porter by helicopter within the day by approaching other trekkers that passed through Machermo which ultimately saved the sick porter his life. Porters often come from the lowlands and are not acclimatised when they commence trekking for a company. They are just as susceptible to AMS, HACE and HAPE and can die if they are abandoned by the tour group and forced to find their own way down the mountain because they are too sick to continue.)

Everest Circuit Rerouted VI: Namche Bazaar

Sunday, 13 October 2013 14:03 Hrs at 3445m (Namche Bazaar)

The Nepalese people of the Himalayas are a compact hardy folk. Much smaller than those of the lowlands. Whether by genes or other environmental or organic factors, such as reduced oxygen saturation of the air or carrying heavy loads from a young age, there is a marked difference. Their facial features differ also. The higher we get: broad flat faces with beautiful catlike eyes and rose cheeks. Men and women alike are much older than they appear by Western standards. It is becoming easier to distinguish the porters and the guides that have come from the lowlands and middle hills from those native to Khumbu. Indeed, our leader, Meet is from the Annapurnas and our sherpa guide, Basu is a lowlander. He is much taller than the locals. Head and shoulders above some of them.

The higher we ascend, the more we see youths carrying loads that would make a grown Western man cringe. Mere boys of thirteen or so hunched beneath the great weight of bottled drinks and chocolate and toilet paper for our consumption. And it is largely for the hoards of tourists that they haul these things – the Nepalese do not use toilet paper, they use water – the cost progressively increasing the higher we ascend. The mules and dzopko (cow-yak crossbred) we often give way to on the trails appear, more often than not, to be transporting fuels such as kerosene or pressed dry grass for fodder. These beasts of burden also carry the yields of vegetables we see growing in the terraced paddocks to be sold at Namche Bazaar. It is quite a sight to watch as the laden animals negotiate the slippery rock stairs and the great hanging suspension bridges that cross and re-cross the Dudh Kosi, all to the whistles and calls of their handlers.

The mules must be easier to manage than the dzopkos as they are driven in herds of between six and ten, and appear to respond to a command to stop and another to proceed. The dzopko, however, appears usually in groups of two and three. They are a fascinating animal. Short coat like a cow, often black and white or closer to a buckskin colour similar to a jersey cow. Their tails are closer to that of a horse or mule than a cow, and they have narrow forward facing horns as inherited from their yak fathers. Yaks do not live below 3000m and having only ascended above 3000m today, we are as yet to see any.

Last night in Monjo we shared our camp with another World Expeditions tour descending from a trek to Gokyo Ri. They arrived in the camp late, well after 16:00 hrs and had been hiking 9 hour days after their 11 day trek was delayed 2 days in Kathmandu due to weather. They looked especially weary compared to our group, most of whom had elected not to undertake yesterday afternoon’s excursion. This was the first of the other World Expeditions tour groups we came across, however today we have passed porters transporting the distinctive red and black kit bags toward Lukla, and at least one other group have arrived at the eco-lodge in Namche Bazaar today. This last group did not have our fortune with the weather. The clouds that clustered around the mountainside yesterday at approximately 16:00 hrs did not lift and by 11:00 hrs this morning there was drizzle. The sky opened a little after we arrived here at 12:00 hrs and this group has not long arrived.

The eco-lodge is a sherpa hotel and is affiliated with the Namche Bazaar Museum to which we will be shortly visiting. The accommodation is sparse, much like our tents, only the room has a toilet for our convenience and panelled windows which afford spectacular views, even with the hanging grey sky. Yesterday’s wet washing hangs from the line I have strung between the window handles hoping to dry. My kit bag is stored neatly at the end of my bed with my boots. My day pack is beneath the window next to the other end of my bed and I am making full use of the spare down blankets with their velvet maroon covers to keep me warm, as the room is without heating.

Everest Circuit Rerouted V: Is it Yellow?

Saturday, 12 October 2013 17:17 Hrs at 2850m (Monjo)

The terrain encountered today was much the same as yesterday. Stone and dirt paths that cut through the mountainside, trees or sheer rock on one side and the view on the other. We have been following the Dudh Kosi (Milky River) since our departure of Ghat, crossing it a number of times. The sheer torrid force with which the river flows renders the glacial blue waters white and the roar can be heard throughout the valley. Its musical sound is one I doubt could ever grow tiresome. Crossing the river, however, is slightly less pleasant as it involves crossing suspension bridges – often behind mules or other tourists – which shifts and sways beneath our feet, especially as we near the centre of the bridge. I have taken to focusing on the pack in front of me and shuffling as quick as possible across the bridge, occasionally pointing the camera one way or another and shooting without actually peering through the view finder.

Our leader, Meet, has done his best to allay any fears and preconceived notions regarding our ascent into Namche Bazaar tomorrow. He insists that when it comes to that last steep climb, that by looking down at our feet and not at the seemingly never-ending rise before us, will make it easier for us. I think he has been pleased with our pace thus far. Today we traveled from Ghat in around 4 hours, and that was with a long break to allow one of our group to recover from a sudden spell of light-headedness. She is only carrying a single 1 litre water bottle and it has been very warm in the sun with little breeze through the trees. Yesterday at Lukla it was 27˚C. Today might have been a little less. It is apparent, however, that tonight will be much colder than last night notwithstanding the clouds that cling to the surrounding mountains where only 2 hours before there was blue sky. Our faded orange tents are bright against the blue-green pine trees that line the mountain.

We arrived in Monjo just after 12:00 hrs and sat down to a lunch of roti bread, spinach, potatoes and spam. That last was new for me but given the scarcity of fresh meat, aside from perhaps poultry, I ate it with the ravenous appetite 4 hours of trekking gave me. Afterward, I went for a small 1.5 hour acclimatisation excursion with Basu, Meet and one other of our group up a nearby hill. As with yesterday afternoon’s side trip, the walk was much slower with a greater number of breaks. I use the extra walk as an opportunity to take photos and, hopefully, acclimatise better.

I do not know if I should be concerned that I have had no more than very mild passing headaches and the occasional disturbance in spatial awareness (as though I were slightly intoxicated). Most of the other trekkers have experienced a variety of much more pronounced symptoms. One experienced such severe light-headedness so as to require her daypack to be carried by the sirdar, Padam for a time. Another experienced strange dreams last night and the sensation that the tent was spinning. Both have since commenced taking their Diamox. A third felt intoxicated yesterday and generally unwell. While a forth has had stomach upsets that persist in spite of the Immodium. Yet another is experiencing fatigue. I cannot state for sure if the last is having any symptoms aside from perhaps the sense she might be coming down with a cold or, as Meet put it, the Khumbu cough. The dry air is leaving blood in my nasal mucous just as when I am in an airplane.

The camp works to a routine. At approximately 06:00hrs, we are awoken to a cup of black tea. Warm washing water is then provided in large silver bowls fifteen minutes later. We are to pack our kit bag and present for breakfast at 07:00hrs. The trekking party departs at 08:00hrs, our kit bags already collected by the porters. Following a day of trekking, we receive glasses of warm orange cordial. More hot washing water is provided at 15:30hrs and then afternoon tea at 16:00hrs. Dinner is between 18:00 and 18:30hrs. Coffee, tea and hot chocolate is provided at the end of all meals, at which time our empty water bottles are collected and filled with hot water. We are encouraged to drink constantly and as a consequence must relieve ourselves quite frequently also. Discussing our hydration status as determined by the colour of our urine makes for an interesting bonding experience. And then it comes time for bed and, if early days are any indication, it will be very early nights for us all for the next few weeks as everyone trundles off at approximately 19:30hrs. Who could blame us.

Everest Circuit Rerouted II: In Transit

Wednesday, 9 October 2013 07:20 Hrs (Singapore)

Gate 54, Terminal 2 of the Changi Airport in Singapore is a cheerfully noisy place notwithstanding the early hour local time. Children and adults alike chatter excitedly and laugh, although from a stolen glance one could make the reasonable assumption that the more animated patrons of Changi are, by and large, not congregating here waiting for a connecting flight. The stony-eyed, more dishevelled patrons like myself are scattered throughout and we are quiet or even downright mute, but who could expect more of someone into their 26th hour of wakefulness with nary 2 or 3 hours light drowsing to rest. I possess hardly the cognitive function to keep myself awake and it is only in fear that I succeed. Fear of the unknown. Of falling into such a stupor that I miss my connecting flight. Of losing my documents, my phone, my hiking boots. The latter are tied to my pack, a lumpy pillow for my head upon an even lumpier bed of hard unforgiving chairs. And it is ever so amusing this weary, dull but still present excitement and nervous anticipation. For I am excited. And I am ever so nervous, but determinedly so.

The reality of it all did not strike me until I was through Australian Customs. It was the same for Thailand last year. I was purchasing last minute items for this trek right up until 21:00 EST before my flight which was scheduled for 01:05 EST the following morning – substituting gear that I had for technically superior and lighter options, equivocating on that damn camera tripod issue – and still the whole trip existed to me as little more than a fanciful dream. I was so engrossed in the motions of preparing for it that it had not yet become real to me. And then I had cleared Customs and the grin on my face grew to such fantastically foolish proportions because I WAS ON MY WAY!

For now, however, I am waiting until my wristwatch reads 08:20 Hrs and boarding can begin. It will be, then, only a few short hours until Kathmandu, Nepal. The dream of my adult lifetime: who knew that it would one day be a distinct possibility instead of the dream forever unrealised by physical, structural limitations. My cheeks are burning and my eyes are dry. My skin stings where I touch or rub it, especially around my eyes, nose and mouth, and I long only for a shower. But yet, I am so excited also.


Wednesday, 9 October 2013 15:15 Hrs (Kathmandu)

The utmost enormity of the Himalayas cannot be understood from photographs or video footage. Never could these mediums truly convey the intimidating bulk of it. Appearing on the horizon, almost as a bank of clouds at first, visible above the plane’s wing and not under it, visible as though it were at higher altitude than us, a suggestion of snow peaked land that as it draws ever nearer is refined until yes! that is it! Everest is second from the right, the pilot informs the chittering cabin, affirming our suspicions that this undefined white mass rising above the haze that is the curvature of the earth is not a cloud at all. And then the aisle floods as passengers in rows A through C try to glimpse that most infamous of mountain ranges, the tectonic plates colliding beneath them, forcing them ever up, UP!

It was not for long, however, as our first glimpse of Everest and K2 and the many others prefaced our increasing descent into Kathmandu and the apparently flat countryside beneath us resolved into mountains of impressive incline, both wooded and farmed. The farm land had the distinctive terracing as seen in other locales of steep incline such as Peru. I do not know why, but this surprised me. I had prepared myself for the tundra and scree and barren landscapes of Khumbu, not dense forest as blanketed the earth around Kathmandu. The houses were largely uniformly cuboid in arrangement with flat rooftops. Occasionally there was a flash from these passing rooftops becoming more frequent the further into Kathmandu the plane travelled. Solar panels, large and gleaming in the noonday sun, they had been erected upon many buildings, perhaps to ward away the frequent brownouts of which there were three very short ones in quick succession not long after I had washed the grit and grime of travel from my skin and hair. Standing in the pitch black bathroom, I was glad that I had expected it or else it would have come as a mighty shock. They were, thankfully, not even a minute in length. Not time enough even to reach for my phone to light the room.