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November 22nd,
I woke up at 4:50am and observed the gray plume of my breath in the cold blue light of my headlamp. Did I really want to get out of the comfortable warmth of my sleeping bag and depart into the cold plateau all alone? It was a difficult question to answer. I finally managed to muster the courage and shimmied out of my sleeping bag, donned my gear and went out into the crisp -10 degree air.
I opened the doors, out of the lodge and into the majestic Himalayan arena. The scene is difficult to describe. A 360 degree view of stunning peaks was lit up by a moon that shone brighter than any moon I have witnessed in my short but eventful life. I switched off my headlamp, it was unnecessary. I began walking up the river towards the pass, the crunch of my boots on gravel attempting to break the rumble of the river and the sound of the wind tearing the snow off the peaks soaring above me on all sides. As I trudged on, the sky began to brighten. I took a couple pictures. Then I was shown the most amazing sunrise display. The sky lit up in a multitude of colors and the shadow of the eastern peaks shot across the sky like a giant triangular prism.
Cruising up higher, I arrived at a big hill. It was really big; in under a kilometer I climbed 400 meters. That’s a lot of climbing. I later found out that the main trail starts from the village of Chukung, which starts higher up, down the trail. Still my “shortcut” was a good way to gain elevation fast. However the hill was steep and unforgiving, each breath wheezy and difficult and the high altitude made the UV rays of the sun beat down. At the top of the big hill, after hitting 5000m, I stopped by a rock. I recovered, hiding in the shade as I drank water, ate some peanuts and a mars bar, trying to prepare my body for the next step.
After a few minutes I summoned the courage to move on, I was feeling the effects of the altitude which was over 5000m. I was sluggish and tired easy, I also had a slight headache, but still no major signs of AMS. I had yet to see a living thing and there was no sound other than the wind. The silence was peaceful and when the thoughts in my mind would cease, there was a tranquility that is hard to describe, but it lifted my spirits.
Suddenly, a rapidly moving dot came closer and closer. It was a Sherpa. I found a stream and was treating a new bottle of water when he caught up. He greeted me with Namaste and we had an interesting conversation. At first he was surprised I was in the high pass alone and seemed concerned with my well being but as I followed him, he seemed to realize that I was capable of helping myself. He was going to meet two Canadians camped in the Pass.
We stopped for water and he asked me what my goal was for the day. I proudly stated my intent to climb Pokalde. I asked him if he was a climber, his face darkened slightly and he pointed over to a number of peaks to the East. “Yesterday Eleven O’Clock another Sherpa die, I don't like it. It is dangerous, too many die.”. The Sherpas are paid to put their lives on the line for small sums of money to support their families. To help rich foreigners achieve their narcissistic pursuits. There are many orphans and widows in the Khumbu, a lot of dead, paid to carry foreigners up the hill.
I continued following the Sherpa until we arrived at a camp.
A Canadian couple was just beginning to move I took a break and had a quick chat with them. One was an ACMG (Canadian Mountain Guide) from Canmore, they were solid mountain folk, but eager to push on, our conversation was brief. I began a sharp ascent after the 5200m campsite and started to feel the altitude.
At the base of the final rock scramble I stepped feeling the altitude and it was great to enter that state. The scrambling was not hard, but the exposure was pretty heady at times and the rock chossy. I picked my way carefully up my intended route and found myself breathless and with a returned headache at the summit. Here is Pokalde, behind loom the peaks of Nuptse and Lhotse. To the left, Island peak, the spiny Ombigaichang and in the distance, Makalu
I descended Kongma la and with each step, the feelings of altitude eased off. I waved goodbye to Kongma la it was truly beautiful pass.
I stumbled into the lodge 10 hours after I had departed, exhausted and starving. With only nuts and chocolate all day I was eager for food and even more ready to pound water and have a few Advil to calm my angry headache. After accomplishing this, I sat down feeling fine and content.
November 23rd
We left Dingboche and we were given a bag of cookies by our nice Serpani lodger. The walk was mellow along the gray fields. Occasionally, a break in the clouds would reveal an imposing peak. It was a mellow and enjoyable walk to Dughla where we ate Sherpa stew and drank lemon tea in the sunlight.
After lunch we began to make a steep climb up the mountain. As we did, these people were running past us. Apparently there is a downhill marathon starting at Gorak Shep. My knees cringed at the impacts that were sustained as hundreds of folks ran past us.
We arrived at the top of the climb and found the first Everest graveyard. You could hear the flap of the prayer flags breaking the silence in the somber yet peaceful place. I noticed Scott Fischer’s cairn.
The sad reality of commercial climbing is made apparent by these cairns. Experienced climbers sit next to those known for famous follys. For every one cairn for a foreigner, there are at least 5 Sherpa’s. Like Fisher, many times the Sherpas have died, not because of their own skill or ambition but for the lack of skill and over-ambition of their clients. It is a sad reminder that when we really want something, sometimes in our blind pursuits we can affect others far more than ourselves. I remembered my conversation yesterday as I stared at a lonely cairn that read Nambu Sherpa, it was humbling.
After a while visiting graves we moved on to Lebouche, it was short and easy day and we retired to the lodge.
November 24th
After a few hours of attempted rest, Steve and I rose at 1am and geared up. Our plan was to travel 6km to Gorak Shep in darkness, then climb the 5545m peak Kala Pathar to catch the sun rising over Everest, Nuptse, and a few other surrounding peaks. With the view accomplished we would go to Everest base Camp before descending to Lebouche at 4910m. It would involve over a thousand meters of climbing and descending and almost 20km of trekking above 5000m. We emerged into the cold light to find our headlamps yet again unnecessary. The light of the stars and the moon shone brighter than any headlamp.
The sky’s brilliance in the Himalayas is truly incredible. If the moon is present, everything is washed with a cold blue light, the major constellations are painted on the sky, shining brightly. If the moon peeks behind a cloud, or even better, a mountain, the sky is a blanket of light. There are virtually no spots of black but instead a palate of constellations and an infinite number of twinkling stars. We walked in relative silence, only the sound of our breath and the crunch of the path breaking the silence. Occasionally we would strike up conversation, or stop for a water break. The mood was quiet, the mission just beginning.
At 3:30am we arrived at the highest village of the trek, Gorak Shep. At 5164m, Gorak Shep (Gorak is a raven type bird, Shep means Dead so the village is called Dead Ravens) sits at the base of a huge lage. However in the dry season of November, the lake has dried up and become a huge bed of sand, complete with a volleyball net. Who has the ability to play volleyball at 5100m I don’t know but the -10 degree weather was not advantageous for bikinis by any means. We crossed the sand and got to the base of Kala Pathar,
We continued upwards, the horizon brightening with every step. The climb was tough but not overly hard and before we knew it we were eating chocolate on the summit, surrounded by prayer flags. The golden glow of the sunrise enveloped all of the peaks in the east, bathing them all in brilliant dawn colors including Everest which loomed in the background intimidating yet entirely doable.
More people began to arrive on the summit and after chilling for awhile, we began to plan our next moves. Looking at the map it looked like it would be possible to cut down the back side of Kala Pathar and end up on the Everest basecamp trail half way there.
We battled to the bottom of the slope to discover we had to backtrack. Finally we got on a mapped trail... it was not the main trail but it led to base camp... eventually. The trail was brutal, scrambling over boulders and picking our way through the madness with only a distant cairn to show we were headed in the right direction. The sun beat down mercilessly, we had been out of water for hours and it was beginning to show. Finally we found a lake.
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| EBC.. not much |
We continued on and with the brutal sun, exhaustion, dehydration and altitude, the time seemed endless and the rests frequent. We hit an active base camp for the 7000m peak Pumo Ri, and we were pointed way down. At this point I was fried but Steve was eager to push on, surprised by his energy I felt guilty about wanting to rest. Before long, we had found the main trail and 20 minutes of flat easy hiking later we arrived at Everest base camp. One may ask why we had worked so hard to arrive at an empty boulder field with a flag and a few rocks, it was a journey and there was not much there,
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| Found this sign on the way down. |
Fatigue hitting full force we turned for Lebouche, over 10km away. We were in Lebouche 14 hours after our departure. Sunburnt and exhausted we ordered celebratory Yak steaks and enjoyed our final parting meal.
November 25th,
At 4am, Steve got up and prepared to make his descent toward Lukla, he had to catch his flight. With a goodbye to a good friend who I had shared many good memories with for a short time,
Packing up I headed for 2 hours to the entrance of Cho la Pass and stopped at a lodge in the village of Dzongla. I was stuck with dorm accommodation in the smoky lodge. On the upside, the moon was hidden by mountains and the stars were the best of the trip.
