Into the Himalayas Part 1

Nov 17,

Lukla madness

I woke up at 6am today and checked out of the Hotel Shree Tibet. I grabbed a taxi and headed to Kathmandu airport. Turns out no one has made it in or out of Lukla, the village at the start of the Everest Base Camp trail for 5 days. The small planes can’t fly out of Kathmandu’s smog or they can’t fly into the clouds that have prevented landing in Lukla. With diminishing hopes, I waited, hearing countless cancellations. My flight kept getting delayed. Four hours after the intended departure time, success. I got on a bus and we parked outside a rickety plane. An hour later, we were on the rickety plane. 30 minutes after that we were taking off. Twenty minutes later, we had a pretty intense landing in Lukla on a tiny uphill landing strip.

Agni Air 

Way behind schedule, I met a trekking partner who would join me for the next number of days. His name was Steve, a young illustrator from England we would trek together and shoot the shit until Kala Pathar, a 5545m peak with good views of Everest. With limited time schedules, we set off trying to get to Namche Bazaar the Sherpa village. The trail followed the river, often crossing it with Indiana Jonesesque suspension bridges like this one, Yaks optional.

The voyage to Namche proved too difficult for the half day that we had been given. After trekking in the dark for a few hours, we settled into a guest house 2 km short. My stomach began to give me trouble shortly after stopping. Apparently, the Dal Bhat, (A Nepali rice lentil dish) in the village of Phakding had come with some sort of bug. Trying to be discreet I snuck outside and began to projectile vomit.

Steve looked for me at ask what I wanted for breakfast the next day and much to his surprise, found me in the midst of tummy turmoil. I tried to play it cool, between sessions, but I’m sure Steve was questioning his choice of trekking partner.  A short day but rough walk to Namche and rest day to overcome the stomach woes before heading up, into thinner air and bigger mountains.

Checking in to the illustrious Sherpaland hotel, we rested for a short time before hitting the town, with its internet cafes, bakeries, bookstores, bars, shops and vibrant people. Everywhere we went, there were Sherpas that had climbed Everest numerous times. 

Finding a pharmacy with some stomach meds I stocked up then returned to the hotel. By the end of the day, I began to feel much better.

November 19th

I woke up in the illustrious Sherpaland feeling much better. We followed Yaks and their owner up a trail toward the Syangboche airstrip and the twin village of Khumde and Khumjung.

Steve and I went up to the villages. From there I saw Ama Dablam Ama means grandmother and Dablam is a pendant of good luck that sherpas wear. We ate lunch in the high village before beginning our descent into Namche. We arrived just in time to catch the movie showing of Into Thin Air, starring Shooter McGavin… terrible yet awesome? After this we retired to Sherpaland to have supper and play cards, an activity that would fill up many hours waiting for and after our dinners during the trips to come.

November 20th

After a final breakfast in Sherpaland, we headed out of Namche. Our destination was Pangboche a decent haul and 500m up. Invigorated by the departure of the stomach bug I quickly pushed ahead of Steve enjoying a quiet stomach and a return to my usual energetic self. 

Realizing I was pretty far ahead of Steve, who preferred the enjoy the scenery technique, I stopped for a beer in the sun. When Steve arrived I had made a friend.

We pushed on to the Monastery village of Tengboche. We had decided to go the extra 2 hours to Pangboche. When We arrived in Pangboche, we found another group waiting. This group was an American group and they were quite loud. In addition one girl could be heard crying her eyes out because she had a wet glove. Wet glove? I hatched a plan to voyage to Ama Dablam Base camp tomorrow morning before going to our next stop Dingboche. 

November 21^st

It was cold and unsettling at 5am when we woke up. It was our turn to keep the Americans that had disturbed our slumber awake. Payback time. I got ready for Ama Dablam and at first, Steve was not interested in my plan, but I convinced him to join and hit the trail.

The trail was faint and we were shrouded is the blissful silence of the Himalayan dawn.

After an hour, we began to draw close to the mountain. We encountered two people heading down. They were climbers. When we asked how they had fared, they revealed that they had to turn back 30m from the summit. Ouch 

In 15 minutes we arrived at the tent village of Ama Dablam Base camp. 

On our way down we talked with two guys from Colorado, planning on making their push tomorrow. We wished them luck, I felt pangs of jealousy, I wanted to climb this mountain too. But a surprise beach had to suffice.

We hit the main trail, bound for Dingboche. I decided I wanted to climb something tomorrow and set my sights on a solo attempt of Pokalde (5,806 m) 1400m up and a 17km loop from Dingboche. Still quite doable if I left at 5am. Outside, the full moon was spectacular as I ran out to grab a few supplies for my summit day tomorrow.