Part 2 of 3 — Day 6: Shomare – Dingboche (4410 Meters)

Rested and feeling better we set off to continue what we began yesterday.  It is a short journey but one that could not have been completed while ill.  Dingboche is a small but inviting village what seems to be based at the foothills of Mt. Ama Dablam.  The Friendship Lodge teahouse is recommended from the Namche Bazar teahouse we stayed at.  It seems pleasant and inviting.  The best part however is the incredibly thick down blanket they offer us for the evening.  I drift off while staring out my window at Ama Dablam. The snow caps are illuminated by the stars and moon.  This is by far the warmest, most comfortable night’s sleep I have had.

Day 7: Dingboche – Lobuche (4910 Meters)

I’m feeling stronger than any previous day.  The trek begins with a short but challenging climb out of the village.  At the top we look across at the path we will take to the Khumbu Glacier.  The scenery has noticeably changed now.  It’s a barren wasteland.  I think about the movie Star Wars II when Luke is stuck in the cold and has to kill some wild beast to survive the night.  Well not that extreme but it is most definitely a different environment than I have seen before.  Yaks meander grazing occasionally.  Trekkers are but specs as they walk in the distance.

Two hours into the trek, we come to a massive hill.  The hillside is covered rocks and boulders. The people and yaks move from side to side slowly gaining elevation. In the opposite direction I see the faces of accomplishment.  They seem joyful and invigorated.  I am jealous.

The problem with trekking without a guide or a porter is that some times you don’t get the best service.  Or any service for that matter.  Groups receive preferential treatment. Period. When we reach Lobuche there are no rooms available … anywhere.  We are fortunate that the sherpas decide to take us in for the night.  They rent us a small room in the upstairs corner of the shack.  I use the word shack lightly.  The siding on the building was no more than an inch thick.

Downstairs the sherpas are gambling while playing cards and Carrom – a board game that share a similarity in rules with that of billiards and shuffleboard.  The Nepalese are not the most photo-friendly people.  Quick-draw, street photography is an easy way to offend someone in Nepal.  So I was happy that the sherpas took me in and were open to photography.  I gave one my Canon 5d II to shoot with while I made frames with my Leica M6.

At 16,100 feet, it gets cold fast.  Inside the sherpa shack it got down to 10 degrees Fahrenheit.  Now the problem with gaining elevation is that the higher you go the more often you have to urinate.  And by often I mean like 2-4 times a night.  So when you have to go at 2 am and it’s already 10 degree Fahrenheit inside, you really don’t want to go outside.  I remember that I have an empty mineral water bottle and I muster up the strength to get out of my sleeping bag.  I try to negotiate the idea in my head and wonder if I can actually pull this off.  The room is small and so is the mouth of the water bottle.  I take the gamble. Mistake.  I urinate on my shoes. I urinate on my backpack. I even urinate on my ThinkTank Skin Chimp Cage camera bag. Disaster!  I run out the door to find a more suitable place finish but the damage and embarrassment has been done.  Luckily I have plenty of disinfectant wipes to clean up with.

Day 8: Lobuche – Gorak Shep – Kala Patthar (5550 Meters)

The final push up to Gorak Shep only takes three hours but at that altitude, the trek is difficult.  We find our base for the next two nights and lay down to rest for a few hours.  The plan is to summit Kala Patthar in the evening to watch the sun set on Mt. Everest.  It is much colder than I had imagined.  I lost my good set of gloves a few days back.  The wind whips my face and numbs my fingers.  We fight to stay in the sunlight but it sets too quickly and we are left to summit in the cold of the shade.

There is a handful of other people at the top.  I’m tired.  And cold.  But still excited and I grab my camera as soon as I drop my pack.  The peak of Mt. Everest burns a deep red and is the last thing the sun touches before sleeping.  I’m actually not much for nature.  I appreciate it for sure, but I am more of a city guy.  I am terribly fascinated by people.  I need to be surrounded by that fascination.  But as the sun set I realized that I was watching it fall off the top of the world.  Something that I will never forget.

This evening is painful.  Incredible headaches most likely due to dehydration and the altitude.  From about 14,000 feet and up my dreams have been incredibly vivid – most likely due to the slight lack of oxygen to the brain.  On this particular night I was having incredible stomach and head pains that left me rolling around in my sleeping bag moaning.  Thus began my spirt journey.  I wish I could say that it was prolific and that my guide was as equally incredible.  But that night Steven Seagal came to me.  He kept trying to spike my CamelBak water bladder with the water from his bong made from an alto saxophone.  I didn’t even realize this was possible first of all.  I kept yelling at him saying, “Leave me alone Steven Seagal!”  But it was no use.  The damage had been done and I was convinced that Seagal was to blame for my acute stomach pains.

Day 9: Gorak Shep – Mt. Everest Base Camp (5364 Meters)

I am 30 years old today.  I wake up feeling a little better but loathe the thought of getting out of my sleeping bag to face the cold.  We pack our small daypacks with extra clothing and fill up our water bladders.  The trek is much longer than I had anticipated.  We have started later in the day than we would have liked. The Khumbu Ice Fall shoots up like daggers in the ground.  Every now and then we hear the sound of running water from underground streams.  The sun is much harsher here.  Stones glitter in the light as we press forward.

Everest is visible now.  It’s hard to imagine all of the stories I have heard and read about this beast.  It looks so calm and unassuming as if I can just reach out and touch it.  There is barely any snow on it now.  Just an ugly massive rock face. Lhotse and Nuptse are far more attractive mountains that seem to sandwich Everest from my perspective.  In the distance I can see people gathering in the middle of the ice fall.  I assume this is Base Camp.  Still, at least one hour off.

I am getting tired of hearing myself complaining in my head.  This is a different kind of difficult than the previous night’s summit.  This is long and daunting.  But we soon arrive at the desolate tourist attraction.  If you think about what is around you in the literal sense, one can be disappointed.  There’s a rock with the base camp engraving and several sets of prayer flags.  Nothing incredible about the site that I didn’t see on the three-hour journey.  But then a giant black crow begins to fly around me.  I’m amazed to see common life up here. It’s wings stretch out wide.  It’s beautiful.

Rich makes me take out the frozen Snickers bar we’ve been saving.  I drill a hole in it with my knife and we place one broken candle in it.  He sings happy birthday to me.  We return and share a can of corn for dinner.

___