The Great Victorian Rail Trail

Full Trail: 134km between Tallarook and Mansfield, Victoria
Hiked Trail:16.5km between Molesworth and Yea (including Yea Wetlands)
Grade: Mostly flat
Hiked Ascent: 100m approx
Track: Chert or grantic sand
Condition: Section hiked in March 2015 had undergone a recent upgrade. The track was in good condition and the bridges were new.
Highlights: Cheviot Tunnel (201m tunnel)
Other: Shared pedestrian-cyclist pathway

Map: Great Victorian Rail Trail website

The Great Victorian Rail Trail is a pleasant and easy walk or bike ride through the Victorian countryside which can be completed either in its entirety or in sections. It can be accessed from towns along the original train line and at various intersecting roads.  Toilets are available on the trail in at least some sections.

The trail between Molesworth and Yea made the perfect first day hike for the year. Being in less than optimal hiking condition, I had no difficulty maintaining the group's approximate 5kph. Although, it would have been easier had I not assisted a friend relocate house from Melbourne to Geelong for 9 hours the day before. 

The track was approximately 2m in width with farm land set a little back on either side. Near Molesworth were three very friendly ponies who came running up to our group, tails streaming out behind, eager to be petted. This was also where we saw the most cyclists, it still being only around 11:30 on a sunny Sunday morning. We did not see any horse riders, who are able to use the trail also, but horse tracks and manure were visible on the trail. No motorbike tracks were seen and they are not permitted.

Cattle and sheep populated the adjoining farmland. At a couple of points there were fences with gates across the trail where the stock crossed between paddocks on either side but these were open when we passed through and would only be closed when the stock were in the actual process of being moved from one paddock, across the track and into another paddock directly opposite.   

The Cheviot Tunnel was the highlight of the hike as well as our lunch spot. Located approximately halfway into our hike and only 5km from Yea, it had originally enabled trains to pass beneath the Black Range at McLoughlins Gap. The 201m tunnel had been constructed using approximately 675,000 handmade clay bricks sourced from Quinlan's pit to the west.  Four safety alcoves continue to be located on its inner eastern wall which we did not know to look for at the time.  The tunnel is accessible by foot or bike only with a car park located nearby on the Yea side. 

The were a significant number of European wasps in and around Yea. Wasps will travel 0.5km for food and in February and March, seek protein to feed their larvae. No one was stung but the wasps did appear to be attracted to our day packs and were a bit of a nuisance.

The Yea Wetlands are located off the main street. The adjoining resource/information centre appeared quite new although we did not stay long to look. The wetlands were rather dry in mid March and by the time we arrived the easier hiking group (who hiked only 11.5km) had walked through,  so few birds remained easily visible: only a couple of parakeets, water hens and an ibis.

Cafes were available in the main street for a coffee or something sweet after the hike.

History of the Great Victorian Rail Trail:
1882 - 1891 Survey and construction of the railway between Tallarook and Mansfield
1909 Alexandria branch added to the railway
1977 Last train passenger service
1978 Line formally closed
2004 - 2006 Work commenced on the Goulburn River High Country Rail Trail
2011 Final sections of the trail completed
2012 Official opening of the Great Victorian Rail Trail

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.

Packing Light

I have spent the past two days weighing and assessing every piece of hiking equipment that I own, recording their weights and preferences on an Excel spreadsheet in preparation for what I hope will be an exciting new year of bushwalking.

Last year, due to commitments to work and being a Maid of Honour at my best friend's wedding, I only managed a handful of day hikes with my hiking group. I regret not making the time to be able to attend any scheduled weekend pack carry trips and intend to make amends for it. As such, inspired by my new red Light My Fire spork weighing in at only 10 grams, I have attempted to reduce my base pack weight to below 9 kilograms (excluding food and water).

Luckily, I had weighed much of my gear before I departed for Nepal just over a year ago. I needed only weigh those items specific to camping and anything newly acquired. I confess that I became rather tenacious in my research and calculations as I have doggedly searched for ways to reduce weight so that I can better justify other items.

Those 9 kilograms include almost a kilogram entirely devoted to my being warm when the sun sets (down jacket and booties and lightweight polartec pants). After freezing 2 nights in a row on a mid-winter hike at Hattar Lakes 18 months ago, the mercury edging towards zero degrees Celsius beneath the clear skies, I'd rather carry that kilogram than be that cold again. So to keep the weight down, I've attempted to be clever on other savings.

The most obvious weight saving that I could make would be investing in a tent that weighs under 800 grams. At present I have a TarpTent Rainbow Double. It weighs 1300 with the optional liner (which assists with condensation associated with it being a single walled tent) and the 6 provided tent pegs. I love this tent. It is roomy and a breeze to set up. I have had the wind howling around my ears and a huntsman spider staring at me from the safety of the vestibule on the other side of the No See Um mesh, and it managed fine. And as the 500 gram saving would require approximately $400 investment, it's worth looking closer to home for weight savings for now. I will eventually make that investment, a larger tent does not warm up the same with body heat, but not right now.

I have identified another 450 grams that could be saved by much smaller investment. A 130 gram silk sleeping bag liner would be half the weight of the Sea to Summit Thermoreactor Plus liner that I am presently using (and am not entirely convinced works to the full extent advertised). Switching from an Optimus Terra HE Weekend cookset to an Optimus Terra Solo cookset and retiring a SnowPeak Titanium 450 mug would save another 160 grams although I am seriously considering making a titanium pot warmer in the style of the Caldera Cone (only to hook onto the pot set rather than wrap the canister) to improve fuel efficiency, which would reclaim some of that weight. An additional 100 grams could be shaved by modifying my toiletries system, such as a lighter cathole trowel and smaller containers for sunscreen and multipurpose biodegradable soap. And by exchanging my expensive but heavy Nalgene Wide Mouth 1 litre bottle for a Gatorade bottle, I expect to save a further 100 - 120 grams. I only want the bottle for easier water management than my Camelbak bladder and am hoping to use it as storage for toiletries and my glasses during the day as opposed to using a hard glasses case.

Caldera cone sourced from Trail Designs:

Trying to channel this resourcefulness, today I created a 13-14 gram deodorant stick by melting Rexona Crystal Anti Perspirant stick into a Nivea 4.8 gram lip balm container. Personally, I'm not ready to give up deodorant and it doubles as anti-chafe for under sports bras and other sensitive areas as discovered having previously developed terrible chafe in Nepal. I created a 30g version also which could probably used on much longer trips. This was melted down from my existing 75 gram stick. And just so that there will be no confusion and it mistakenly applied as a lipbalm, I even took the opportunity to buff the name from the tube's exterior using a four step nail block and using a Sharpie permanent texta to rename it. I also took the opportunity to halve the weight of my toothbrush by breaking it. And finally, the Light My Fire spork replaced both a folding MSR fork and spoon which were of much flimsier construction.

While these last changes may seem excessive, for little money and an interesting afternoon, I created an 80 gram saving which is the weight of my spare pair of socks or 3/4 of my spare t-shirt. I anticipate to make another 100 grams of weight savings by instituting similar scrimping measures to my other toiletries, such as using tooth powder and not toothpaste and a smaller mirror to put my contacts in.

I also tried to be discerning in what I included as my preferred carry list. Only one change of socks, underwear and t-shirt (if it is not raining, gear can be dried on the back of a pack if it doesn't dry following its rinse the previous afternoon or overnight, and odor resistant shirts have at least 2 days in them anyway). One pair of thermals and soft sportsbra for camp/night (not negotiable). I was drier in my Nepalese Sherpa poncho than my eVent Montane Athena jacket and suffered less condensation. The poncho is lighter, can be shortened by press studs when pack coverage is not required and can be worn with just gaiters (which I ordinarily hike in with my shorts, even in a Victorian winter) so waterproof pants are not required either. Although, if I were to walk through snow, I would reevaluate as I found that hiking through knee deep snow, it was sufficient to use a running t-shirt, Patagonia R1 Hoody, a Montane Windshirt, woolen buff and glove liners, and a pair of Marmont Pre-Cip Full Zip over my hiking pants.

After instituting the smaller changes, my pack will weigh in just over my goal weight at 9.2 kilograms. Those North Face polartec pants are a luxury that I'm not ready to give into yet. So too are the booties until I'm satisfied the jacket is enough. I suppose I could sacrifice my Keen Clearwater CNX sandals to gain another 450 grams if I really needed to scrimp during winter. In the warmer months, without the extra space required for the down, I do believe the space savings might actually permit me to limit myself to a 50 litre pack providing weight savings yet again which would place my base pack around 8.5 kilograms. Changing tents could further reduce this to a 8 kilogram pack in moderate weather.

I doubt I will ever be prepared to go ultralight but perhaps within the next 12 months I will be comfortably within the lightweight category, even when hiking mid-winter (in areas without snow).

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 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: A Reflection

Before ever I disembarked my plane and stood (not so) tall in Nepal in my expensive hiking boots, I had drawn parallels between my trek through that beautiful land and my thirties as I expected I would come to know them in due course. Ironic that we should be rerouted from our original planned trek of the Everest Circuit due to closure of the Cho La Pass following unseasonable heavy snow. The very Pass on which I was to celebrate my birthday. Instead I found myself turning thirty not where I had anticipated but under the shadow of the most beautiful of mountains, Ama Dablam. So was it true of my life. The journey that I had plotted for myself, younger and less burdened by cares, is a far cry from the course that I have stumbled down. Very fitting that on my first great adventure alone in half a lifetime it should be my trek to be so affected by the snow, for ever have I been the subject of the most curious misfortunes.

My last hoorah as a twenty-something was spent much as I anticipate the next 7 months will be spent: researching my upcoming adventure and training for it. I read books and scoured blogs trying to get a sense of the enormity and the enigma trekking the Himalayas seemed to present. I was half terrified and half confident in my training preparations. I felt myself intimidated by the sheer size of it all. Eighteen days of hiking with people that I did not know. Would my legs withstand that much UP? Would I fare well enough trying to maintain conversation with strangers once fatigue kicked in and so too the vagueness and quiet that accompanies it? What about altitude sickness, would I get it and my trek be ruined? All the while trying to get an appointment with my cardiologist to be cleared to even be allowed to join the tour group.

Now, it should probably be said that I consider myself somewhat of a coward or a wuss. It is the cause of my self-attributed social ineptitude where I straddle the hemispheres of talk too much and not enough. The impassioned me can fall into monologue or lecture yet I cannot generate conversation where it will not flow of its own accord, I do not possess the skills to do so. The tired me does not even have energy enough to participate and I find myself withdrawn. This yellow streak also applies to a host of other such bothersome things, including a fear of falling (but not necessarily of heights) and of the unknown in general. Once I was incapable of using the phone to order takeaway, ridiculous as it seems now, and hardly looked up when I walked alone. Yet even as a cripplingly shy adolescent, rock climbing and abseiling gave me a thrill and ever was I drawn to travel and a life that was generally nothing like my own. I am a walking contradiction.

I dealt with my fears in obsessive research. Nothing that I read could ever convey the true experience of the author. I could feel the great hollows between their sentences, the language lacking in the subtly and nuances of senses and emotions that feed our experience entire. But reading the general experiences of others did more to bolster my confidence in the training that I had done than anything short of trekking it myself could have done.

For that reason I am going to share my experiences trekking Nepal, that others may reassure themselves also. My trek journal was heavily geared toward the observations I made of the Himalayas and the Nepalese that we encountered. I describe the trail and how long it took to hike between camps. I compare and, dare I say appraise, the preparation the other trekkers completed prior to our trek.

What my journal fails to convey is perhaps how slowly we seemed to go, shuffling shallow steps, zigzagging from one side of the trail to the other to lessen the incline traveled (the increased distance over a lesser incline helping to keep the heart rate down to avoid the overexertion that brings on altitude sickness). Nor does it address the sickening sensation of trying to pass trekkers going in the opposite direction on a narrow, jigging suspension bridge almost 100m over water (I'm certain that was the height of the last bridge we crossed before Namche Bazaar) or turning around on one of those bridges because a caravan of mules did not stop as they were supposed to in wait of their driver on the other side of the bridge to allow people to exit the shifting wire structure before they got on. (See below for photos of offending mules and suspension bridges over the Dudh Kosi aka Milk River). Certainly with all the snow and rerouting, mine was not the standard experience for the Everest Circuit in the peak season of October but perhaps it will provide some insight to those that want it and search so desperately for the experiences of others as I so did. I certainly hope so.

There were quite a few entries so it will take some to post them all.