Showing posts with label Everest Base Camp Trek. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Everest Base Camp Trek. Show all posts

Friday, 20 March 2009

What Goes Up... (39)



A hike down an impossibly wide valley brought us to Pheriche (4243m), where we enjoyed the increasing levels of oxygen in the air. The next day, we descended further to Phortse (3750m), a hike on which I suffered from belated altitude sickness with a dodgy stomach (although my stomach may have been rejecting the food it had received for the past week).



This alternative return path provided us with some of the best scenery of the whole trek. From Pheriche, we continued on to Phortse (3750m), and after a night here made our way back to Namche Bazar, overcoming a descent down some very steep steps along the way.



On the way to Namche we stopped off at the amazing Khumjung (3790m), one of the biggest towns we visited on the trail, which also had it's own Buddhist monastery (which allegedly has a Yeti skull), as well as the Edmund Hillary school.

Once we reached Namche, we knew we were at a low enough altitude to celebrate a little, and celebrate a little we did, with beers and cigars.



This, unsurprisingly, was one of the most enjoyable moments of the thirteen days.

Day twelve, and our routine hike back to Phakding was made more interesting by the fact that Friday evening and Saturday morning are market day in Namche, meaning that the trail was jam packed with market goers, and many yaks, heading in the opposite direction to us.



Yak Attack 2
This state of affairs led to our second yak attack. This time I was at the rear. Coming over the brow of a hill, I could hear some commotion up ahead. Then John, who was in front of me, informatively shouted “Oh shit!”, and dived into the ditch next to us. Looking up, I was faced with a yak charging straight towards me. I just about managed to dodge it, otherwise I don't think I'd be capable of writing this blog entry.

After a boring night in Phakding we arrived back in Lukla the day before our early morning flight to Kathmandu. With no flights in or out of Lukla that day due to inclement weather, there was a healthy population of trekkers eager to celebrate, not least of all us.


“The Irish Pub”

Believe it or not, Lukla has an Irish bar, with the imaginative title “The Irish Pub”. As is usual around these parts however, it's an Irish pub only in name, more resembling the basement of a rich American with Irish roots. The celebrations continued on for the rest of the night, culminating in traditional (or maybe not) Nepalese dancing from all involved. Only John was caught on video though.

The airport departure room (calling it a lounge would be a stretch) the next morning was like a big reunion of all the fellow trekkers we had met in the past fourteen days. I reckoned this is what a school reunion must feel like.



Our collective attention was drawn by some commotion on the runway before the first plane of the morning had landed – a local child had somehow escaped it's house and made it's way on to the landing strip! Cue army officers rushing to remove the toddler from danger – a sight I don't think I'll see at any other airport. A downhill takeoff was also a sight to behold (and cause fear).

So the highpoint, literally, of our whole trip ended up a complete success, and is something that I'd recommend to anyone. If you're prepared to rough it a little for a couple of weeks, the rewards make it all worthwhile. An incredible expereince.

Kala Patthar Peak (5550m, 18,208ft)















Because It's There

So what's involved? Fourteen days hiking, eight and a half of which were spent climbing and the rest getting back down, that was what faced us. The itinerary was outlined to us a couple of days before we set off, when we also briefly met our guide, Shiva. On paper, it looked difficult. Not being the most naturally athletic person in the world, at times I was more anxious than excited. But I was anxious about this whole trip too, doing things that scare me is a recurring theme in my life at the moment, and there was no way that I was pulling out now.

Day 1 to 3
Our early morning taxi ride to the airport was beset with problems. First, our porter, the superhuman Gopal, who would be carrying most of our gear the whole way up and back, had trouble getting out of bed, and was late getting to his pick-up point (this was the only blemish on his flawless performance during the rest of the trip). Then it turned out that this particular day there was a big festival on (marijuana was legal in Nepal for one day!), so a main bridge on the route to the airport was closed, causing traffic chaos. We ended up missing our 7am flight to Lukla (2886m), but no harm done, we just caught the 8am.

The view out of the cabin windows gave us a nice taster of what was to come, and the landing, despite the hilarious runway at Lukla, was fine. The first thing that I noticed about the area was the lack of roads or automated land vehicles of any sort. To get anywhere around here there was only one way of doing it: walk. So that's what we did, for just over two hours, to our guesthouse for the first night at Phakding (2640m). Accommodation was basic, which we expected, and very cold, which we didn't expect, not at this relatively low altitude anyway. Having been spoiled by the constant sunshine we'd had so far, the bitterly cold nights took some getting used to, as did arriving somewhere at lunchtime and having nothing to do but rest for the remainder of the day.



Day two's longer four hour hike (including a stop for an early lunch) was easy even by my standards, and made enjoyable by the surroundings, which were very similar to the British Columbia nature trails, all rocky valleys and lush forest. We also caught our first tantalising glimpse of Everest, which of course wouldn't be our last.


Namche

A one hour climb, which wasn't difficult at all due to the very easy pace set by our guide Shiva, directly preceded our arrival at a windy and cold but scenic Namche Bazar (3440m), where we spent the next two nights acclimatising. So far so easy!

Day 4
The quality of the scenery on our path really stepped up a gear on our fourth day, the green forests slowly transforming into more barren yet more spectacular views of snowy peaks. As a rule on the trek the more spectacular the scenery got the more the temperature dropped, so more and more layers were needed.



After passing through a few Sherpa villages and past plenty of yaks, and another steep (but not too taxing) climb we arrived in Tengboche (3867m), a village quite exposed to the elements and hence quite windy. Inside Tengboche Buddhist monastery however, the largest in the region, the turbulent weather conditions outside are comprehensively concealed, with opulence and spirituality oozing out of every corner of the place, a peaceful oasis on a stormy hilltop. It was amazing to see a place of worship like this.

Yak Attack
Our fifth day is remembered for one event in particular. We were trekking uphill through a typically small Sherpa village, when a herder just up ahead lost control of his Yaks. They started charging straight at us. Shiva, our guide, sprinted across the street and leapt up onto a wall. I instinctively followed him, as I had been walking just behind him. With no time to do the same, Gearóid and John had to balance on a narrow wall on the other side of the street, with a four metre drop into a yard on the other side of the wall. A belt from a yak and they wouldn't have been able to continue, that was certain. The yaks managed to maintain their direction though, and charged past us at serious speed.



These animals, though not intentionally violent towards humans, could really cause some damage if collided with. In fact Shiva told us there had been four deaths and plenty of injuries caused by yaks in the last ten years or so.

After that bit of excitement we arrived in gusty Dingboche (4260m). With the oxygen levels in the air depleting, altitude sickness started to kick in. John was the first to suffer, losing his appetite completely (a serious symptom for a man that normally eats inhuman amounts of food). We all experienced mild headaches too, but for now Gearóid and myself were not too bad.



We also spent the sixth day in Dingboche as planned to once again get our bodies used to the altitude we were inhabiting, during which we stopped at the spectacular view above.



Dingboche was also very cold, with sub zero temperatures at night meaning we spent our time huddled around the fire until it petered out, at which point everybody hurried back to their room and into their sleeping bags. John was very sick at this stage, showing more of the symptoms of altitude sickness, which are quite similar to a bad hangover (some justice at last I thought, as he normally doesn't get hangovers). Only two days until base camp, we told ourselves.

Day 7


For me the seventh day started with some hearty Tibetan bread with jam, providing fuel for the tough day that was to follow. With the air getting thinner, and our breaths becoming ever more shallow, every uphill section became more and more difficult. The land at this altitude is extremely barren, unwelcoming to life requiring oxygen.

Arriving exhausted at Lobuche (4930m), I collapsed onto the seating bench and immediately realised I was very sick. No appetite, bad headache, unsettled stomach – it wasn't nice at all. Also not the time to meet three very friendly and chatty German trekkers, who happened to be from Stuttgart, where John and I had lived for six months a few years ago. One of them even lived about a five minute walk from where me and John resided. Luckily John had recovered somewhat from his illness, and was able to lead the conversations, while I was slumped into my seat behind him.

Base Camp Day
Thankfully I had recovered enough to continue on the morning of day eight, as this was the day we were to make it to base camp. With the landscape, temperature, oxygen levels and uphill sections ever more forboding, the incentive of the achievement that awaited us was badly needed to keep motivation levels up. A tough four hour initial hike brought us to Gorak Shep (5180m), where we were to spend the night. But after a quick stop there to deposit gear and order some some barely touched food, we wearily set off for base camp.

By now the spectacular had become the norm, or perhaps we were too tired to appreciate the scenery, but whatever, this hike was tough for all of us. Very rocky, with many ups and downs (both personally and terrain wise), every little ascent felt like a little Everest. But finally, after a climb past rocky paths with ice up the side of the Khumbu glacier, we saw the marker.





The sense of elation and relief from all of us was palpable.

It's Not Over Yet
After struggling back to Gorak Shep, we rested, still glowing with the sense of achievement. My body had successfully adapted to being above 5000m, but John and now Gearóid's condition took a real turn for the worse. Tomorrow we began our descent, but first there was the extra challenge of Kala Patthar, a Himilayan peak of 5550m (18,208ft). It was looking like I was the only one who would be able to tackle it, which I didn't want.

The next morning I dragged myself out of bed and reported for trekking duty. The only other trekker up was Ann from Oxford, whom we had met on day three, and also happened to meet at base camp itself. At least I had someone to share the experience with, I thought. But then, like Lazarus, John appeared, declaring himself healthy enough to go for it. So off we went.

In the whole thirteen day trek, this one hour forty five minute climb was the toughest part by a distance. It started out tough, then got progressively steeper. Towards the end Shiva stated that we were almost there, only for us to turn a corner and be faced with an even steeper section made up of small boulders. Almost at the peak, it got to a stage where it was three steps, break, three steps, break, for both John and I. There was simply no oxygen to keep us going. But at the top...

Monday, 9 March 2009

Gearing Up

We booked our Everest Base Camp trek early in our second day in Kathmandu, with a trekking crowd we found ourselves. Though they weren't the cheapest, they seemed the most professional, and you want confidence with the company who are responsible for your wellbeing on an undertaking like this.

Having packed for the hot Indian climate, I was hopelessly under-equipped for a hike up to 5400m, as were John and Gearóid. So the two days before departure were spent gearing up.

Even more common than trekking companies and bars and restaurants in Thamel are shops selling trekking gear. Almost everything sold here is a cheap knock off of well known trekking brands such as The North Face. Seeing as I'd only really be using the gear for the 14 day base camp trek, I was only concerned with it lasting that long.

After a lot of haggling in numerous shops I ended up buying a warm hat, a sunhat, gloves, a long sleeved top, hiking sticks, a small backpack, a water bottle and lots of chocolate. All that for roughly €20. With the cost of the trek itself blasting our Nepal budget out of the water, I needed to go cheap. I just hope cheap lasts the 14 days.