Everest Circuit Rerouted VIII: Yak Yak Yak

Wednesday, 16 October 2013 14:40 Hrs at 4040m (Dole)

The road between Phortse Tenga and Dole is relatively short. Only three hours separated them. It is also much less traveled than the road from Namche Bazaar. As we wandered along the path – slowly, slowly as always – the panoramic Himalayan vistas that were concealed from us the day before were finally revealed. We are now only a few hundred metres below the snow line, and at over 4000m, the foliage has changed. There are no more soft pines or conifers or what appeared to be paperbark. The trees are smaller, scrubbier, and very soon will end altogether.

Dole is a sleepy little place, smaller than even the main drag of Amphitheatre, Victoria (the nearest town to where I grew up where the population is a little over 200). Constantly bells ring from the necks of grazing yaks and dzopkos. There are very many yaks here, and appreciative few which I would judge from their uncollared necks and the way at least one local chased them from his land, are wild. They are far hairier than their bovine cousins, with tails much like that of a horse, and great horns protruding from their heads. They have voracious appetites as they grazed almost continuously since our arrival a few hours earlier.

Having arrived at Dole before midday, and the weather much finer, a number of the group took the opportunity to wash soiled clothing by the river. We then laid them over rocks, as the Nepalese do, so that they would dry. The walk down to the river and back would have been much more pleasant had the 2 litres or so of fluid consumed before lunch not made for such a hasty retreat to the facilities which, in Dole consists of a small building with a hole cut into the floor. There is leaf litter piled at the back of these ‘facilities’ to cover any more substantial deposits through the gap. These composting toilets, I understand, are used to help fertilize the land on which vegetables are grown for human consumption. A practice long utilised by the Nepalese people.

The less that pristine weather has made much of the land unsafe to tread, circumventing any afternoon excursion aside from the short laundry trip. As we meandered up steep steps and great wallows of mud, the mountainside on the other side of the valley was subject to a landslide, the crack of falling rock as loud as gunfire. Aside from the road to Machermo where we will be trekking tomorrow and the road back to Phortse Tenga, there is no other real tracks to take and so any excursion would have been on very smaller, lesser used trails. Meet was concerned we could dislodge rocks.

The trails have been, thus far, steep but doable. Our lungs run out of oxygen before our legs their strength. The reduced oxygen is very noticeable on exertion, as though you were carrying an additional 16 or 20 kilograms and it will only worsen as we are to ascend another 1600 metres. Our pace, thankfully, has been slow. Regardless, we generally make each day’s trek within the approximate times as outlined in the trek overview. Even with a cold, I have had no difficulty keeping pace with that set by our sherpa guides. Today D.B. lead us and Basu was located somewhere toward the back of the group. Meet watched us all walk in turn, ever mindful and observant of signs that any one of us may be exhibiting AMS. The drone of helicopters in the valley is becoming our constant morning companion, as ever more trekkers are airlifted from the hillside.

(Postscript: This was the day I commenced the course of Cold and Flu tablets I brought with me in the hope that I could relieve my symptoms before Cho La. While my cold symptoms did subside a little, the cough persisted until I returned to Kathmandu. Developing a persistent cough is quite common in the Himalayas, I understand. It is often called the Khumbu Cough for those that develop it in the Khumbu Valley on the way to Everest Base Camp. I have since been advised by a fellow hiker that a ventolin inhaler could assist with persistent coughs developed at altitude.)

Everest Circuit Rerouted VII: Rain, Rain, Go Away

Tuesday, 15 October 2913 19:10 Hrs at 3650m (Phortse Tenga)

The Dudh Kosi, our almost constant companion since Ghat, rages beneath the campsite, louder than I have ever heard it. Water runs down the nearby mountainsides in great rivulets. There are always a handful of waterfalls in view at any time, falls that I am told freeze in winter attracting ice climbers. Water runs down the tracks also, so deep in some places that we rock hop across to the next patch of damp dirt. At one point during the trek from Namche Bazaar to Portse Tenga, we had to climb up a flight of stone steps holding onto a low handrail as the waterfall broke over our heads and brushed our shoulders and ran over our feet. Our sherpa, Basu was not particularly amused being the last of our group to brave the sodden crossing.

It has rained almost constantly since we arrived in Namche Bazaar on Sunday. Not heavy rain, and often no more than incessant drizzle, it has slicked the tracks with thick mud and left us wet to our baselayers. A frenzied search for the ‘perfect’ poncho through Namche’s winding streets yesterday saw at least T and I – and our packs – mostly dry with minimum condensation. Much less than my Montane eVent jacket, the condensation on which transfers too readily to my mid and baselayers, subsequently leaving me cold on stopping (as I discovered on our forays in and around Namche on our acclimatisation day there). The last minute find earned the tick of approval of Basu, as he told me more than once today that the poncho was a very good rain jacket. He, himself, made do with what appeared to be a heavy duty plastic bag intact on two sides, which he drapes over both his head and his pack. We saw a very many variations of this among the other sherpas and porters and Nepalese people treading the wet trails, as well as a surprising number of umbrellas more often than not furnished by one of the locals. The Westerners, however, proceeded in their rainbow parade of Gortex jackets and Nepalese made ponchos (whose zippered sleeves disqualified them from being the perfect ponchos) and waterproof overpants. There was a surprising amount of foot traffic, even following the separation of the Everest Base Camp and Gokyo trails, in both directions. We witnessed as a helicopter landed in a nearby village, presumably to collect a trekker suffering from AMS (only the first of many to come). Our own pace is steady and we do not rush the trails. Even with the extra traffic and poor weather conditions, we still managed to conclude the trek to Phortse Tenga within 5 hours and without any great exertion.

The trail itself is much more difficult than that to Namche Bazaar. And while there was talk of this awful ascent into the town and to our eco-lodge, it was no more difficult than the 1000 steps in the Dandenongs, Victoria, the greatest challenge being unable to see the end. I do believe our gentle introduction to Nepal is at its end, however. The next few days, at least, are relatively short ones which will be fantastic for acclimatising, with afternoon ‘excursions’. Today was the first day I did not go on the excursion. After the long wet slog in the rain with a sore throat and runny nose, I felt it more prudent to rest. As such, for the second time now I pulled my camera tripod out of my kit bag and took a few photographs with the adjusted exposure time. I am looking forwarded to seeing them enlarged when I return to Australia.

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.