On the path to base camp, Everest's snowy peaks are nowhere to be seen.

By day three of our adventures in Tibet, the four of us arrived near the base of Mt. Qomolangma, the awkward Tibetan name of the mountain we all know as Mt. Everest. Although Sakya was at 4,200 meters above sea level (13,860 feet) and we had already adjusted a bit, my three travel companions and I were definitely feeling the altitude at the Rongpu Monastery at 4,900 meters (16,170 feet). Rongpu, known for being the world's highest monastery, is approximately 8 km from base camp.

Below is my diary entry from the day we returned, after two nights at Rongpu -- or what I like to think of as "Everest lite."

July 27, 2004 -- Mt. Everest finally appeared today.

We stayed at Rongpu monastery for two nights, and during our day and a half of sunlight, we only saw bits and pieces of the mountain (covered by lots of clouds). I was actually pretty depressed about it, and was convinced the trip all the way there (seven hours from Sakya?) was not worth the time, effort or breathlessness.

Our first night we slept at Rongpu Monastery. Even after our 3 days in Lhasa (3,500 meters), one night in Shigatse (3,900 meters), and one night in Sakya (4,200 meters), I still felt breathless throughout the night. The altitude kept me awake, as did my runny nose, the feeling that I was sleeping under a pad of dirt instead of a blanket and the monastery dogs that would not stop barking. Every time I moved, my blanket would emit a puff of dust, which I would then have no choice but to breath in.

I woke up shortly after our one incandescent bulb went out and began to feel claustrophobic. My corner of our cavernous room was pitch black and I felt like I couldn't get enough air. Judy wasn't sleeping either, and periodically we would whisper to one another to make sure the other wasn't sleeping.

The next day was base camp day. We ate breakfast and packed our things. I reserved a bed at the Rongpu Monastery Guesthouse (yes, this is actually a different place). The others were going to stay up at base camp for the night, but I had already decided that I had had enough leaky tents for one trip.

The walk to base camp started out real easy. It was not only flat, but also went downhill. But I was still disappointed, because Everest was still behind thick clouds, and the rest of the scenery was like a moonscape -- barren and rocky with a chalky colored river running beside the dirt road to base camp. But the most depressing part of the journey was the florescent pink (tile) hotel built near the monastery to attract more tourists. Whenever we would turn around to see how far we'd gone, that pink thing was always the first thing we could see. It was impossible to miss it.

Judy and I started lagging behind our group, but were happy to do so, not being super athletes. (But we sure felt like athletes every time a group of Chinese tourists on horse carts passed us.) We took lots of pictures, especially when one little section of the mountain came into view.

The final three kilometers was when things started getting more difficult, but I say that carefully, since it wasn't that difficult. Nonetheless, we still had to climb 300 meters in altitude, and the altitude was not our friend as it was.

Once we made it to base camp there wasn't much to do but take our photos in front of the "Mt. Qomolangma" sign, drink tea and eat fried rice in one of the tents. At that point we could only see the base of Everest -- the top was still nestled in the clouds. But from what I could tell by the small bit I could see, I came to the conclusion that anyone who wanted to climb that thing had to be mildly insane.

The four of us climbed up to some prayer flags, but hurried back to a tent when icy rain started to fall.

I waited for an hour or so in the tent for the rain to let up. It never completely stopped, so I finally hopped on a motor bike back to Rongpu, getting completely soaked along the way.

The next morning we all woke up to a blanket of snow covering everything. At that point I was still frustrated with the whole thing because we still hadn't seen Everest. But at breakfast, after Judy, Jacqueline and Valeria had come down the mountain, my roommate from the night before, a tour guide, walked into the teahouse and told me that the mountain was finally visible. Judy and I instantly jumped out of our seats with our cameras and ran outside.

Through the clouds, the outline of the North Face was visible, thinly veiled with fog, but much clearer than we had seen it so far. We ran up a hillside near the monastery to take photos, and sure enough, within three minutes, the mountain was hiding behind its thick blanket of clouds once again.