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.)

Buying Up Big

Approximately 2 months ago now I came to the unfortunate conclusion that this would not be the year that I trek Kili. The ebola situation in West Africa, whilst not exactly adjacent to Tanzania, just seemed far too unstable for my liking and so I have postponed that particular adventure. Instead, I have elected to trek South America mid-2015. Mount Kilimanjaro will have to wait until another time.

It has probably been for the best, however, that I postpone my trip. I have not been able to commit to training as I had expected. An aggravating case of diverticulitis, then costochondritis, my best friend's kitchen tea and hen's night, my boss going overseas and an interstate visit from my mother have all adversely impacted on my time and ability to train. I had been training for another half marathon when the diverticulitis sidelined me on the couch and it has been a downward spiral since. A new pair of Asics GT1000 2s, swimwear and the coveted Suunto Ambit3 Peak Sapphire heart rate monitor later, my good conscious (and significantly poorer pocket) cannot allow me to sit idle any longer. And who would want to with all those new toys to play with?!

Of all my recent investments, I have to say that the Suunto Ambit3 is the finest and most exciting. While I have had it for only a handful of days, I am utterly enamored. As a female, it is bulky on the wrist but I purchased the larger Peak model for the purpose of hiking as well as for its functionality as a HRM. The inbuilt GPS is certainly an advantage. My Polar RCX5 required the GPS device to be worn on my arm which often equated to another source of chafe. While the Polar HRM was of a similar size (only 4mm smaller), the Suunto is certainly heavier at twice the weight (a whopping 92g total!) but it is not a nuisance for all of that. Indeed, all the little features are well worth it. I have been eyeing the activity tracker daily and cannot wait until I have justification to use the altimeter on my next hike.

As for the shoes, I cannot deny that Asics have been my runner of choice for the past decade. While the Kayanos model have always served me well in the past, I have struggled a lot in the past 18 months with what I believe is deep posterior compartment syndrome. Undiagnosed but consistent with its symptoms, swelling to my lower calves generally occurs within the first kilometer and the pain (read: the sensation of the muscle trying to explode through the muscle sheaf) does not numb until approximately the fourth or fifth kilometer. It does not seem to matter if I rest or not, which is a nuisance. I have also recently been getting arch pain which I attribute to the greater arch support of my Orange Superfeet in my Scarpa Mythos Tech GTX hiking boots making my arches lax.

My last pair of Kayanos having reached their retirement, I elected to have my gait analyzed (as far as can be done so in a store setting) at Running Fit's Shoe Lab. The verdict: I have high arches and mild overpronation (both of which I was already aware) and I was fitted out accordingly with inserts as well as the GT1000 2. Having trialed my new shoes for the past few weeks, however, I have come to the conclusion that even with all the arch support and pronation correction, it is my running style that must change.

I am a heel runner (read: jogger). I had been consciously trying to run a little further forward on my sole to reduce the strain and swelling in my lower calves and it had been helping but it is not enough. So I've taken it upon myself to try to run more on my toes. I should say that I am a slow runner; I run for distance and not time. I ran the distance of a half marathon in preparation for Nepal and I am training to do so again. I would like to run faster but my preference is always to run further and if that means I sacrifice time, I'm ok with that. Running on my toes is an interesting experience but certainly not unpleasant. The pressure seems almost wholly contained to the upper calf area. I do not experience any swelling in the lower calf area or cramps in my arches, and even the pressure on my thighs seem reduced. I feel lighter on my feet. Resuming heel running after toe running feels like running through sand, slow, heavy and trudging. I hope that slowly building up endurance to toe running will be the cure to the issues caused by my heel running. And who knows? Maybe I'll even run faster for it.

When I'm not running, I'm swimming. I have foregone weight training for the moment, preferring cardio instead. In the new year I'll reintroduce weights but for the meantime it's all about the kilometers and endurance. While I know that I do not need to be as prepared for trekking through Peru and Bolivia as I would for Mount Kilimanjaro, I want to be well prepared all the same. There's no need to suffer the trail unnecessarily when the hardest thing about the trip was your training for it. I know more than one person that could have benefited from that mantra.

At any rate, I'm now left to source a Power Monkey to charge my Suunto Ambit3 watch before my next trip. I think I'll add that to my Christmas wish list, seeing as the watch was an early birthday present to myself.

Princes Park Rerun

The wind that has torn at Melbourne these past few days has, at least for the time being, finally abated. Today has been quiet and calm. The birds endlessly call to one another, their minds on Spring hatchlings. The traffic hums pleasantly. Not one siren sounds, the MFB and Ambulance vehicles are cold and still in their depots after a busy night. Even Thor's hammer has been laid to rest, having beat out a few cracks to join in with last night's chorus.

I cannot recall the last time I had such a luxurious morning. The dawn might have called but only noonday was answered. Weeks busy with training and work and not enough sleep between seem to have finally caught up with me and so I slept long and hard as I have not done so in months. I still have a 9k run to warm my legs on this dwindling afternoon and an engagement with that old whoremongerer the 1000 Steps with my new weighted vest tomorrow. But I feel rested and unhurried in a way that I have missed.

I have finally broken my running drought, particularly the long distance one. A few short 2.5 or 3k jogs here and there (most often with my weighted pack down to the car park from the top of the 1000 Steps), 3 weeks ago now I put on my much loved and increasingly worn ASICS Kayanos and took myself on a 2 lap trundle of my old training ground, Princes Park. I spent months acquainting myself to its 3k circumference while training for Nepal last year. I ran my first half marathon distance there albeit broken a few times at the end to make use of its water fountains and to stretch my sore legs. As part of my training for Kilimanjaro, I intend on running (read: jogging) more than one of those bad boys but I also intend on doing it with more finesse and care. I was on a tight schedule last year and so those last 2 laps of the park grew increasingly uncomfortable until it did not matter whether I ran, skipped or walked back to my car, only time relieved the impressive soreness left behind.

I have become much more clever in managing the recovery of my legs also since I discovered that iced calves do not persistently ache the way that they had been when I first started stair training a couple of months ago. I work my legs a lot, knowing how important it is that they be strong and resilient and enduring of the steady work that will be required of them for days on end. That was the second biggest mistake I came across in Nepal after acute mountain sickness. Something that I've heard tell time and again from others also. People taking for granted the importance of their legs to a trek, their knees especially. Persistent downhill is hard on knees. That is a reality of trekking. I have met those with bad knees from trekking trails such as Kokoda as young 20-somethings without prior training. Developing osteoarthritis from a 1-2 week trek competed at age 22 is an absurd and unnecessary lifelong complication. It is ultimately far better and less inconvenient to train.

I recently read an article about a 60-something gentleman who had just competed his 200th sub-3 hour marathon. In all that time, he never suffered a major running injury. He strongly advocated listening to your body when exercising. If your body told you that you werenl not fit to finish your weekly long run as planned, then you did not do so at risk injuring yourself. He advocated also training tired. I do not mean that he recommended training injured or training hard when your legs are tired, but going for a long slow run on tired legs better equips them for what they will experience in a marathon. The same is true for trekking and hiking, I do believe. If I want to spend 1-3 weeks walking in excess of 5 hours a day every day (something that my ordinary life does not provide for) then my legs must have the endurance to do so. They learn that endurance by training until they are tired multiple days in a row. I will endeavor to improve upon this endurance slowly over the next 4 or so months. While I certainly do not advocate doing too many kilometers too quickly (as I may have done), I never experienced the pain or exhaustion in Nepal as I did for every kilometer ran over about 16k. I was grateful for the comparison and preparation it leant me but I need to be fitter and harder for Kilimanjaro, at least for summitting day.

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 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.

Headwind

This week, short as it has been with only four days, has been a trying one nonetheless. A rest day tomorrow is well overdue, although I am trying to mentally prepare myself for a short run in the hopes that it will come to fruition. I've struggled with the motivation to really get back into running.

It seems more and more that I ride my bike uphill into a headwind in the evenings with other road users that behave with ever more self entitlement. This week I have been forced to swerve car doors opening into my path when my strobe light into their rear vision mirror, especially in the dim light, should have made my presence plainly known. To stop and give way to cars that have pulled out into the road in front of me, cutting me off (both from turning right across my path into a side street and turning left onto my road from a side street). To stop because a vehicle is abreast the shared bicycle-pedestrian pathway. To negotiate cars parked in clearway zones at clearway times. To avoid cars that drive two wheels into the bike lane.

Cyclists are by no means a perfect community of road users but the damage a cyclist could cause to a driver and vice versa are incomparable. A fright and scatched car versus death or lifelong impairment hardly fit onto the same scale. Yet how careless some drivers have been toward me, and I'm not even including those that have failed to overtake me at a reasonable distance. To top it all off, winter winds push against me, fighting me for my forward momentum, as I square myself against the enduring rise of St Georges Road, my hip flexors protesting and teeth set. My calves are particularly sore and hardened, their recovery from last weekend delayed. I am grateful for the breeze, however, that keeps the sweat from sheeting off me, the cold blooded Scotsman descendant that I am.

There is something invigorating about riding to work in the morning, however. Even when it is so cold gloves must pad my fingers to retain the sensation in them and my ears are hidden beneath the neck buff that I tuck under my helmet. A little bit of water on the road is even better, as there are less cyclists to contend with and it is quicker to ride than to drive. I try to ride to work at least 3 times a week, each day saving me at least an hour of petrol. I feel that I begin those days at my desk alert and functioning, without the need for a strong caffeine injection. I begin the day well grounded also, especially if I have seen the homeless gentleman that sleeps beneath a narrow overpass on my route, his belongings packed into 3 or 4 green square Woolworths bags lined up neatly in a row.

The weather is truly winter now, our mild autumn ended a fortnight ago. It is so cold that I can hardly feel my hands as I carry my bike down a flight of steps, even in my windproof gloves. I store a cap in my bag in the event I need to keep the rain out of my eyes while I ride. And today as I made my way toward Ferntree Gully to climb the 1000 Steps, I watched as mist enveloped the hillsides so thickly and unexpectedly that I wound my window down to smell for fire, I could hardly believe what I was seeing was cloud. The damp day did make for much less traffic during the 2 hours that I was on those stairs.

My Salomon XA PRO 3D Ultra 2 GTX shoes are slowly but surely being broken in. I bought them specifically for training conditions such as the Steps where I might be inclined to jog or trot downhill. Something that I do quite frequently where pedestrian traffic permits, today being no exception. It is, I believe, the reason for the slow recovery of my legs this week even with a few days of hill and step work already breaking them in. They are less sensitive to the touch today, and I'm hoping they will improve and not worsen again.

On a trek proper, I prefer to wear my Scarpa Mythos nubuck leather hiking boots. They are much sturdier and provide greater ankle support. Last weekend I realised that I have cracked the heel of one orange Superfeet insert that I took to Nepal. Possibly on my rapid descent down the mountainside after the ascent to Kala Pattar. As someone with high arches, I prefer the extra arch support of the orange Superfeet on long hikes to prevent cramping although so far, I have not needed any additional inserts in my Salomons. I have not done a full day's hike in them yet but I will in the next month or so.

I will need to rejoin my hiking club to insert full day walks back into my training calendar for Kilimanjaro. I hiked at least 2-3 Sundays out of the month in preparation for Nepal, routinely carrying 12-14kgs in my pack, keeping pace with other hikers carrying less than two thirds that weight. This, I felt, was an important contribution to my training that I would have wanted for had I not included it in my training regime.

Tonight at my best friend's bridal party dinner, I was seated across from the partner of the Best Man who intimated to me that she thought that while trekking the Kokoda trail a few years before she got by mostly on the vitality of youth and not training, the consequence of which seems to be a persistent weakness in her knees. This is not the first I have heard of knees permanently damaged in twenty-somethings lacking trek preparation, I have heard it applied to Mont Blanc also. Descent is wearing on joints. I try to train specifically to build up the stength of the stabilising muscles around my knees to protect them which is what makes the 1000 Steps such an appealing training ground. It seems that others share that sentiment as I saw a singleton as well as a group hiking with weighted day packs and hiking boots while I was there today.

Over preparation has to be better than under preparation when trekking. Within reason, of course.