Guess who's back!

What a month it has been! Having closed up the Namche lab at the end of April, I have been on a 26-day escapade cavorting amongst the great and terrible playground that is the Khumbu region of the high Himalaya. And now I sit shirtless with a hot summer breeze at my back under a gazebo in the inner grounds of the Summit Hotel in Kathmandu. It is quite a change of scenery for me, but we'll get to that later. I have decided to make my last few blog posts a month in review and I will try to get three or four installments out this week before I return home to sunny Durham, North Carolina on Saturday (can someone please confirm that it is, in fact, sunny in Durham, NC?).

We're going to take a trip back in time. Are you ready to get into your time machine? Ready? Let's go!

Phase 1: Straight to the Top!

After almost two full months living above 3500 m, we were all very well acclimatized and so there was little time to waste getting up high. Our first day was a full one on the way up to Pheriche at 4200 m. The plan (as will be exposed in the coming days) was to hit base camp and do a little bit of high altitude mountaineering but the details were still slightly less-than-concrete which meant we just decided to porter all of our own equipment which meant we were on the high end of the average trekker pack-weight. My pack weighed about 25 kilos (something like 55 pounds) while others got by with a little less space:

Tom G and his fine packing skills. Our belgium travelling companion, Willem, thought he bore particular  resemblance to those old photos from the Dust Bowl... Needless to say, we made plenty of fun already so don't ask him about it.

On the way to Pheriche we made a quick stop in the incredible Tengboche monastery. I had to throw some rain pants over my shorts to go in but it was so totally worth it. While this monastery has quite a history it is actually relatively new. First built in 1916, it has been destroyed and rebuilt twice - first by an earthquake in 1934 and second by an electrical fire in 1989. To my knowledge it is the highest monastery in the world!

I definitely didn't think they were going to allow pictures - very progressive

Pheriche lies in a long flat valley with Ama Dablam near one end and Tabouche, Cholatse, and the Cho La at the other. It is a very nice place to rest since the next stop for most trekkers is Lobuche at a whopping 700 meters higher and moving too quickly to that altitude is asking for trouble. So we went for an ice climbing day. Unfortunately our guide never showed up so we went for a play on our own.

We asked this yak to guide us but his fees were far too steep

This late in the season, the icefall was in miserable condition and without an experienced local we felt it best to stay far from it as the mid-morning sun sent small cascades of slush spilling down every so often. Instead we contented ourselves to play with our ice equipment on the snowfield at the base. I've always thought ice climbing was a bit crazy, but I have to say that standing near the bottom with technical ice tools and crampons strapped to my brand-spanking-new boots, I have a feeling I'll be returning to the sport sooner than expected...

Here I am feeling particularly manly and stylish - read on to learn how quickly that feeling was undermined.

Going back just a bit, I had a tragic occurrence in Namche in mid-April. While packing for this extended excursion, I discovered that I was missing about 600 dollars - that's Benjamin Franklin x 6. I did my best to remain relatively calm and searched high and low no less than 3 times but finally I decided I should probably inform our lodge owner and the police in order to be able to claim travel insurance later. Only moments after the above photo was taken I went to replace my crampons in their bag and out dropped... you guessed it: a fifty dollar bill. I definitely remember thinking to myself that it would be a good idea to hide my money in my crampon case but I can't say that I remember actually doing it. The bad news: hypoxia has left my mind feeble, confused, and frustrated. The good news: after my parents were kind enough to wire me a loan while still in Namche, I now had plenty of cash to get through the trip quite comfortably.

Looking back down the hill from the Everest memorialsjust below Lobuche towards the Pheriche valley. Ama Dablam seen at left

From Pheriche, the trail turns right near the end of the valley and heads up toward the Khumbu glacier moraine. It is a steep hill to gain the top towards Lobuche. The next day takes you from Lobuche's 4900 m up to Gorak Shep at 5100 m, the last stop before pushing on to Everest Base Camp. As you creep closer to  the head of the glacier, the views become increasingly stunning but perhaps the most noteworthy stop along the way are the Everest memorials - a sombering reminder of how dangerous and deadly this playground can become. I was able to find some notable names including Scott Fischer and his head guide Lopsang Sherpa of the 1996 disaster and Alex Lowe who died in an avalanche on Shishapangma and whose friends and family have returned and ultimately established the Khumbu Climbing Center in Phurtse to educate Sherpas on Western climbing techniques.

Looking back down the moraine from just below Gorak Shep

After a night in Lobuche and one in Gorak Shep, the four of us got an early - 4:30 am - rise and headed up Kala Pathar for the sunrise views. Kala Pathar is often regarded as quite a feat because it is usually the highest that most trekkers visiting the region will go. But at about 5500 meters it isn't even much of a day hike, granted you aren't suffering acute mountain sickness just yet. Still, it is splendid at 5:00 in the morning. Even though we got up rudely early in the morning, we were not the first up the trail - not by a long shot in fact. But that was quickly remedied - I couldn't help but put on the gas to pass the three or four groups ahead of me. I think this comes as a result of both my immaturity and my maturity, let me explain:

While I initially set a blazing pace because part of me didn't love the idea of anyone beating us to the top, once I get ahead into some open air I remembered a chastisement that I got from my Grandmother Nebeker a few years back when I was going on about some mountain bike trail. She complained that I was not taking the time to look around and enjoy the view and I realized that I have really come to enjoy things like sunrises and views. Early starts used to be just a means to get somewhere in time: on the slopes after a powder day or to a peak before the afternoon T-storms bucked us off again, but this was different. Watching the sky and the earth change as you ascend the slopes of even a small peak is something quite invigorating: I highly recommend it! At any rate, all my lung-searing earned me a serene 20 minutes on top completely alone. It was surreal!

Kala Pathar - sunrise - and I still must have had something to say (by the way, that's the big lady there on the right - Sagarmatha herself)

Our last stop on the way up, of course, was Base Camp, the big E-B-C! Seeing the team was incredible there and the set-up was astounding. In addition to the impressiveness of our own laboratory and camp, the air is simply charged up there. We got to see climbing friends, incredible Sherpas, heard weather reports and rumours about tensions on the mountain (many of which you've probably read about in recent weeks). It is a small city up there - a small city with a big attitude. While we hung out, our lab guys were kind enough to indulge my own curiosities:

VO2max test at 5300 m! Not for the faint of heart (nor the claustrophobic)

And were wonderful hosts all around. I was able to wash my clothes but I was a little surprised when I went to check on my thermals and saw them flying the wind - stiff as a board. They'd frozen in the middle of the afternoon. Not to worry, I was told - in the morning they will have been freeze dried and come out with a wonderful freshness - it's the simple pleasures I suppose. Still just to be sure, I ate dinner with a pair of thawing socks hung over my shoulders underneath my shirt. And then it snowed - what a great opportunity to see EBC with a fresh coat.

Looking back from the middle of tent city in the fading light with Everest behind me

In my journal that night, I wrote:

"Tonight, after watching a film, we all walked out to go to our tents and as we looked up to the stars, the views were nothing short of incredible. As everyone went off to sleep I stood [looking up] until my feet were cold. It couldn't have been more than 10 minutes but it felt like forever. The stars seemed so close that they were just holes in a dark violet sheet just out of reach. The icefall constantly creaks - each sound like a sheet of aluminum wobbling and jostling. And after waiting long enough, you might catch the flash of a shooting star. What a place!"

What a place indeed!

I know this has been a long post, but I hope that someone at least managed to scan the pictures through to the end. I'll be back soon with the next installment. Until then:

Namaste!