Off the Couch and On the Road

Although base camp is kinda the whole point of this trip, climbing Kalapathar at 5550m (higher than base camp) was supposed to be the visual highlight, with scenery at the top so spectacular you would be forgiven for bursting out that the hills really were alive, with the sound of music.

I say supposedly, because after the trek the day before, there was no fucking way I was getting up at 4.30am to climb a mountain I had never heard of anyway. So I slept in and met the group for breakfast.

The 3 that did go, came back with descriptive words like ‘nice’ and ‘well worth it’, which justified my decision, because the words used to describe my bed would have sounded more like ‘sensationally warm’ and ‘incredibly comfy’.

After breakfast, we said goodbye to the other half of the group, who had yet to do base camp and would continue on to Gokyo Lakes as a trip extention, and the six of us left began to make the descent home.

I say home, even though my next destination is Europe, because when it’s snowing, cold, windy and cold, Europe in summer is more within my comfort zone. And at that point of exhaustion there are only a few things going through your mind:

1. Thank god we are going downhill.

2. Lying on a beach in Croatia is looking really good right now.

3. It’s funny how the word ‘waterproof’ in a shoeshop in Sydney has no relevance to melted snow puddles in the himalayas.

4. Who would have ever thought I would be trekking through melted snow puddles in the himalayas.

5. Trekking rocks – think about it. Where else can you eat 3 Mars Bars a day and everyone looks at you with a solemn face and tells you to eat more chocolate, for energy, because it’s necessary??!!

6. Thank god we are going downhill.

We continued on at more than double the pace it took to trek up, so it was like watching the scenery as a TV re-run in fast-forward. And for every ‘thank fuck’ I had on the way up, when we could make a descent, there was the opposite reaction when we had to climb up on the way back.

We took a different route on the way down (hopefully shorter, but I’m afraid to ask) and ended up at Orsho, almost 1km lower in altitude, by about 3pm. For those that woke at 4.30am, it was a long day. For those that didn’t, the excitement that we were about 5 days away from Kathmandu was enough.

-Sarah

It’s hard trying to think of the most physically and mentally demanding challenge I’ve faced to date. There are always those nights at the gym when you get to the point where you can’t take another step, or maybe some mornings on the way to uni when it’s so cold you want to cry. But those just seem pale in comparison.

We made the bold decision the night before to not only walk the three hours from Lobuche to Gorak Shep, at 5130m, but to continue on after a quick rest to Everest Base Camp. This decision was made using the same basic decision making principles as other regrettable decisions – mixing beer and vodka, buying leopard print, renting a unit with separate hot and cold taps, dying my hair blonde. In other words, it wasn’t the best decision.

The walk to Gorak Shep was quite lovely, snow-covered mountains and a nice track increasing at a gradual pace. We arrived at about 9.30am and had a very early lunch and a quick rest before heading off to Base Camp. ‘Everest Base Canp’ kind of rolls off the tongue easily, much easier than the effort it takes to get there. At 5364m there is only 50% oxygen, and it’s a tought trek up and down mountains, covered in rocky boulders, at tempereatures close to freezing.

We arrived at base camp around midday, dozens of brightly coloured tents emblazoned with flags sitting below magnificent glaciers. The hard-core trekkers live at the site for about 8 weeks before ascending to their final destination – camp 1 up to camp 8, or the summit, if their keen.

Because the glaciers, and therefore the campsite, moves up to 1m per year, there is no official sign announcing your arrival at base camp, which was a bit of a disappointment, but after that trek there could have been a plastic bucket as the highlight and I wouldn’t have cared. We sat and rested for about half an hour, taking photos and enjoying the sun on our backs, before we saw snow clouds approach in the direction we needed to head back home.

(Ok, so I don’t know whether they were really snow clouds or not, but since it started snowing about two seconds later, I’m just putting it out there.)

Trekking in the morning sunlight is a little different than pushing yourself through a freezing snowstorm, but what choice did we have (apart from choosing a more tropical holiday destination). After a good three hours I made it back to Gorak Shep – with a horse, which followed me the last half and hour home. It stopped when I did, and walked beside me once I started again. I figured it was a sign, but it didn’t look interested enough to carry me home, and I didn’t care what other sign it had to offer, so I continued on.

On arrival at our tea house, you could pick the those that had just been to base camp – they sat, staring straight ahead, not moving or talking, some so shattered they were crying. Others who hadn’t been were asking how it was, whether it was worth it, and whether the trek was enjoyable. I didn’t think Nepal tourism would have liked my answers at that point, so I said ‘ask me tomorrow’.

It was a big day, a tough day, for me anyway, and definitely the hardest thing my poor mistreated body has had to endure. But it was an accomplishment. Whether it was worth it? Whether I enjoyed myself?

Ask me tomorrow.

-Sarah

It snowed yesterday afternoon. We were sitting around the fire heater drinking tea when it started falling, slowly turning the surrounding mountains and huts a powdery white. Now, call me naieve or un-worldy, but I have never seen snow fall, and I sat staring out the window, mesmerised.

‘Snow!’ I exclaimed, to a response of silent nodding heads deep in books and journals.

‘But, it’s actually snowing!’

I was beyond excited, even more so to wake up the following morning to clear blue skies and a snow-covered track we would follow to Lubuche, only two stops from Base Camp. I think maybe the group thought I was suffering some bizzare kind of altitude sickness, pointing to snow-covered boulders every few minutes and exclaiming, ‘snow!’ but it eventually melted, much to their relief I’m sure, and we took it slowly until we made it to Lobuche in time for a late lunch.

The combination of exhaustion and altitude meant the majority or the group was now behind me, although I was keeping the same pace, and apart from an earache from the wind I felt fine. Cold, but fine.

We were meant to climb another 100m in the afternoon to acclimatise, but it began snowing again (like, actual real snow!) so we weren’t able to, and I spent the afternoon wishing my snow experience included central heating, steak and fries, and a hot bath.

But the tea house had a western-style toilet that actually flushed, and at the end of the day that’s what you really want. You don’t think you do, but trust me, you do.

-Sarah

With quite a few people suffering a bit of altitude sickness, we al took the trek up to 4850m very slowly – a breath after each slow step, kind of like walking on the moon I guess, except they get way cooler outfits. And can fly.

Anyway, I was one of the few who had a great night sleep the night before, and wasn’t suffering any breathlessness or headaches at all, so really enjoyed the walk. Once we hit the top of the mountain we sat behind some rock boulders that sheltered us from the ever-present freezing winds, and sunbaked for about an hour while our blood thinned and we acclimatised to the altitude. It was lovely.

Unfortunately a couple of peole in the group didn’t make it to the top, but only one wasn’t able to make it to the minimum altitude required, so I’m not sure if she will be able to trek with us tomorrow.

It was encouraging to think Base Camp is only another 500m higher, and only about 4 days away. As we have been taking one step at a time, it’s surprising to see how far we have really come. We have seen some groups with really bad altitude sickness, even people coming down from Base Camp with blue lips, and a lot of them seem to be rushinjg through without acclimatising properly, which is pointless, but each to their own I guess.

After we descended, the free afternoon was spent chilling out (literally, it was cold) and dreaming of food. I don’t think any amount of food could have satified our appetites at that point, we were burning so much energy. But it seemed the higher we climbed the less they fed us, which I’m sure was for the benefit of our health at that altitude, but still left us dreaming of food.

-Sarah

Today was technically an easy trekking day – only ascending about 500m at a very gradual pace. The altitude however left everyone breathless and slowed them down to what I call ‘Sarah’s Pace’.

The forest track, which so far wouldn’t look out of place in an Australian National Park (except for maybe the sherpas. And yaks) slowly turned into a Lord-Of-The-Rings-esque barren landscape of rocks, sand and low bushes, with an old wooden bridge every few hours used to cross the white-water rapids beneath us (holding our walking poles and calling out ‘One Ring To Rule Them All’ in a Gandalf voice also kept us entertained).

It got significantly colder, and we arrived at Ding Boche, at 4343m, by about 2.30pm.

The tea houses we have stayed in have all been basic but comfortable, simple hard beds in rooms made of pine, with a common room where it is usually warmer and where we spend the afternoon reading, writing and chilling out before supper, and prior to crashing at about 8pm.

Tomorrow is another ‘rest day’ to acclimatise. Which means another crazy walk up a vertical mountain and back down again. And I am running out of Mars Bars. But Frodo survived, and he didn’t even have sherpas. So I should be fine.

-Sarah