Entries from Everest
While the rest of the gang set out in the dark for "production work" up and over the ridge to Khumjung, I followed at a more civilized hour with Erica and Ed Dohring. Father and daughter were both feeling fine after two nights and a rest day living the Namche high life. On this calm and sunny morning, we hiked up to Syangboche, the sometimes-used dirt airstrip five hundred feet directly above Namche. The mountains were big and bright and unobscured by any cloud whatsoever. As we came to the forested ridgecrest separating us from the Khumjung Valley, we were granted a big view of Everest and Lhotse with wind tearing ragged cloud banners from their summits. We connected up with the early-morning film squad to find the gang over in the Khumjung Bakery. They finished up breakfast and then together we went out for a few more photos, posing amongst the peaks on a fine spring day. Once this was finished, Ed, Erica and I continued with our acclimatization hike, agreeing to meet one and all back down in Namche in the afternoon. But first we found our way to the deck of the Everest View hotel to enjoy... what else? The Everest view with a couple of plates of French fries at 12,000 plus feet. A humongous brown and gold eagle flew close over our fries on his/her way through the tree tops of the ridge. There were a few other tourists about, but for the most part we'd gotten away from the "crowds" of trekkers and porters on the main trail up-valley.
Our walk was quite leisurely and enjoyable, but it was not without purpose. Rest on a rest day is a great and valuable thing, but light exercise at a slightly higher altitude than one is currently sleeping at is also a great way to prepare for actually moving higher. We'll do that tomorrow, assuming that everybody has a manageable last night in Namche. But first, folks are back to resting... enjoying last showers and internet access and shopping in the metropolis of Namche Bazaar.
March 31, 2009
Posted by: Melissa Arnot
Categories: Expedition Dispatches Everest
Elevation: 11,296 ft.
People always ask me what the hardest part of an Everest expedition is. I only have one Everest expedition behind me, but I suppose that is all it takes to know what is hard and what is not. Surprisingly, it isn't summit day and it isn't the Khumbu ice fall. For me, the hardest part is rest days. Writing that feels a little strange, as resting is something good, restorative and needed, but it is really hard indeed. I am the type of person that enjoys movement, enjoys physical challenge and the constant change that traveling provides. To that end, being asked to rest for roughly 1/3 of the expedition is no easy task. I feel like I have been moving forward constantly since I was a kid, and now slowing down to let my physiology catch up with my mind is a challenge for me.
How do I accomplish the task of resting? Reading is a good start, but I cannot read anything related to adventure, otherwise my feet start to twitch and I feel the need to go for a walk. Card games are a good way to rest, they bring laughter and allow your mind to engage, while your body is absorbing the much needed down time. Perhaps the best way to rest is to eat. At the start of one of our many rest days, I look to the teahouse menu. I think about how many meals I can eat today, and if there is anything new that I would like to try. By midday I have rested my way through boiled eggs, tibetan bread, cornflakes, chicken momos, popcorn, fried potatoes, chicken soup, pasta, and if I am feeling really bold...a yak steak. I know, it sounds like it wouldn't be so hard to sit and read, laugh with friends and eat, but the truth is, that is why I climb...because it IS hard to do the other stuff.
When you are moving on a trail, and breathing hard and feeling all the blood move through your body, well, for me that is the easy part. Making dinner after a hard day climbing, a day that starts before dawn, that is restorative in its own way. Maybe it is an illness, feeling more rested after a hard day of climbing three thousand feet than a day lounging in the sunshine and enjoying tea. I suspect it is really good to experience days that just force me to slow down and look around. These days are good for letting me think about the days behind us and renew the excitement for the many days that are still ahead of us. So today, I will practice my resting. I will go walk around the small, but busy, village of Namche and look over at the people who seem to be resting easily, perhaps I will even stop and inquire how they do it. For now though, I have another order of eggs to dig into and a small sunny spot to go sit in.
The rain finished sometime during the night and left partly cloudy skies for our morning walk out of Phak Ding. These improved to sunny, clear and blue skies for a few hours as we wandered the trail through the small villages and farms along the Dudh Khosi. The trails were quite busy with trekking groups and heavily laden porters. There were numerous groups from Europe and Japan but none that we recognized as being from the United States.
I walked along with Erica and Ed Dohring and Seth Waterfall. We didn't do much instructing as to how to walk or climb the steps in the trail. Ed and Erica do hike plenty, in addition to the mountaineering they've accomplished. I did ask them to slow down just a bit to match my pace, hoping that I'd be able to pass on a rate appropriate for all we needed to accomplish today. The main wisdom I try to impart at this stage of a long climb is simply an awareness that our performance on any given day is an integral part of our overall performance. For instance, it wouldn't have been so useful for us to attempt to set some speed record on the day moving to Namche if that meant being wasted for our first night at a new and significant altitude. Conversely, walking too slowly toward our intended goal could tire us out just as much by keeping us on our feet with packs on our backs for too long. It isn't like figuring solutions to the world's financial troubles or landing spacecraft on Mars, but walking uphill is none-the-less my specialty and it turns out that getting the walk to Namche right is crucial for climbing Mount Everest.
Everest didn't show itself for us today, but we were granted tremendous views -seemingly straight up- to the wildly fluted snow-faces guarding Thamserku's pointy summit. There was an unreal contrast between the rock and ice we could see by tilting our heads and the lush pine forests we walked through. We passed the odd flowering rhododendron and still a number of blossoming cherry and apple trees, though not quite as many of these once we'd gone through the gates of the Sagarmatha National Park and gradually started to gain a bit of altitude. My little gang enjoyed a hot lunch at the picnic tables outside a teahouse with members of our "production team" (Jake, Cherie, John and Tom) while the other climbers continued on toward the big "Namche Hill" -anxious to get the day's work done.
The sky clouded up again and vaguely threatened rain as we continued along the Dudh Khosi. I found myself recognizing boulders and bridges along the way and remembering the friends/partners/clients from past expeditions who'd lounged here or there and stopped to take pictures in this or that spot. As we walked I counted myself lucky that most of the people in my memories were still my friends after those expeditions. In these days when I have to so often justify going back to the same mountains year after year, I wonder if I'd get away with that as a worthy argument... that they remind me of good people.
Of course the big Namche Hill reminds me of a lot of good and sweaty people. We gained over two thousand vertical feet on the dusty switchbacks, passing lots and lots of porters straining under loads of hand-hewn lumber. Someone up-valley must be building a wooden WalMart. In mid-afternoon, we crested the hills and rolled into Namche, the Sherpa capital. I bumped into a number of Sherpa friends in the narrow streets and as we passed along I just got in the habit of saying "Namaste" to all the shopkeepers, whether I recognized them or not. We caught up with the rest of our team enjoying the lemon tea at the Camp de Base guest house, where we'll spend the next three nights. And now I'm sitting at the comfy dining room tables looking up at the usual posters of Hans Kammerlander, Hillary and Tenzing, and the Dalai Lama. We are home in the Khumbu.
It was an early morning, hustling out of hotels and bustling onto buses for the short pre-dawn ride to the airport. After a moderate amount of hurry-up-and-wait we hurried out to board a pair of Twin Otters primed for flight. There was a haze lying over Katmandu that we quickly busted through to find generally clear skies and big mountains spread across the horizon.
I had a window seat next to the port propeller and during the fifty minute flight to Lukla my eyes were mostly pressed against that window. It was only ten months since I'd left these same mountains on this same aircraft, so how could I possibly have forgotten just how spectacular and formidable these peaks could appear on a clear morning? It was as if I was seeing Ghari Shankar and Menlungtse and a thousand others for the very first time... and just like that very first time eighteen years ago, I was humbled to look out at all the impossible ridges, sheer faces and jagged summits that I will never be bold enough to attempt. Finally, the plane turned just enough for me to get a clear view of Everest lording over everything and about thirty miles distant. I turned in my cramped seat in an effort to get Erica and Ed Dohring to recognize the dark pyramid now dominating the horizon. The engine kind of messed with their view so I went back to enjoying it for myself... picking out the South Summit and noting how little snow seemed to be covering the rock of the Southwest Face. I smiled at the obvious lack of wind aloft and granted myself a clichéd climber's observation that it was "too bad we weren't going for the summit today" Of course, then remembering that temps at 29,000 ft in the last days of March were likely around -50 degrees F while with patience we could be in line for a balmy -15 degrees F in the latter half of May.
Our Yeti Air Twin Otter started diving down into a steep sided valley and I lost the view of the big hill while focusing on the small ones not so far from our wingtips. Now in the lower Khumbu Valley, it was easy to pick out terraced fields and small farms as the plane lined up for a Lukla landing. The pilot greased it, somehow matching the plane's steep descent to the opposite slant of the small runway. Within minutes we were out and walking toward a nearby teahouse to regroup as the planes sped noisily away. We sat and ordered a breakfast while discussing the best ways to keep fifteen people looking out for one another on the trails. All were relaxed, as we knew the walk to Phak Ding would be short and relatively easy. In fact, we would lose about 700 ft of vertical over the course of the morning. The trail took us past blossoming cherry and apple trees, past a few flowering dogwoods and a selection of well-tended vegetable gardens. Things were easy enough that the gang could spread out and pursue their own interests. Ed Viesturs, typically, wasted little time in getting the day's work done. Walking a more moderate pace with Erica and her Dad, I finished somewhere in the middle of the pack along with Peter Whittaker and Melissa. Our camera teams had various projects along the way, including some vegetable mo mo's that beckoned seductively from one café menu along the track. Eventually, we were back to a full compliment of climbers, cameramen and trekkers hunkered down for the evening in our teahouse along the rushing river and protected from steadily falling rain (the good flying weather was merely temporary) in the suburbs of Phak Ding.
The climb of Mount Everest has begun. Our team came together in these past few days, flying by various routes and trajectories around the world to Kathmandu, lugging all manner of electronics, insulation and enthusiasm. Good meals and nights of uninterrupted slumber have repaired some of the jet-lag grogginess and disorientation. We've met as a team several times now and have gone over preliminary plans and strategies. Tomorrow we fly into Lukla and begin walking. It is no stretch to suggest that all are looking forward to simply walking. That will be a welcome change from months of planning and packing and wondering about the future.
Personally, I can't wait to be walking. Katmandu is always an exciting place for a climber to visit... but most of us wouldn't want that visit to be any longer than is necessary when Everest is the goal. There is too much chance for getting sick either from taking in smoggy air or dodgy food. There is still charm to this huge city, but it isn't wise to go hunting extensively for that charm just now. Katmandu is struggling these days; the electricity is only on a third of the time and so there is a nearly constant background noise of hotel diesel generators throbbing away. People are nervously recounting a winter devoid of moisture and the resultant severe water shortages they are now dealing with. As usual there is uncertainty over Nepali central government effectiveness and concern for how worldwide financial troubles will impact the country.
Walking in the countryside will be perfect. We won't think just yet of the dangers of the Khumbu Icefall or the winds that might scour the Lhotse Face. We'll put off worrying over Hillary Step traffic jams and jet-stream meanderings. Instead we'll set off walking through lush forests and fertile farmland through the villages our Sherpa teams live in. We'll get talking some and walking more and we'll get away from cell phones and email. We'll try not to trip or step in goo... we'll take pictures of distant mountainsides and close-up flowers and our lives will get simpler than they have been for some time. I'll speak with Erica and Ed Dohring; my clients, and will explain how this ten-day trek can be the perfect way to prepare for a big climb. I'll try to tell them what I can of the Sherpa culture and the mountain history. Perhaps I'll get to introduce them to a few famous climbers along the trail. I'll mug for the cameras, as our team tries to capture our First Ascent gear being rolled out on its maiden voyage in the great mountain range.
I'll try to stay healthy, warm and dry... simple.
Last week RMI's Basecamp Manager Linden Mallory and RMI's Operations Manager Jeff Martin arrived at Kathmandu's Tribhuvan International Airport in preparation for the First Ascent Expedition. This is their report:
After 35 hours of flying we were amazed to see that all 16 of our First Ascent Maximus 150 Duffel Bags survived the airports of Seattle, Tokyo, and Bangkok, arriving in Kathmandu along with us. After a few false starts and more than a few spills - towering carts of duffel bags crashing to the floor - we moved our gear through the customs officials and x-ray machines and navigated our way to our vehicle before plunging into the chaos of Kathmandu's traffic.
Next, we combined the 1,000 lbs of gear that we brought with us from the States with 2,000 lbs of supplies pre-shipped to Kathmandu. Preparing all of this meant unpacking, sorting, counting, resorting, recounting, and repacking the impressive amount of food, gear, and supplies. Ensuring that everything was accounted for, we separated the gear into 30 kilogram piles (66lbs) that the porters and yaks manage to carry. Three days later, with heads spinning from labels, weights, several trips to the local markets, and gear shuffled countless times, we triumphantly sealed our last duffel.
During the next week, the 27 overstuffed duffels and 18 60-liter plastic barrels we packed will make their way to Everest Basecamp. They first fly to the tiny mountain airstrip in Lukla before journeying the roughly 50 kilometers up the Khumbu Valley, shouldered by porters or yaks, to their destination along the rock and ice strewn landscape of the Khumbu Glacier.
The accumulation of duffels and barrels compromises a staggering amount of gear and supplies, including:
38 First Ascent Katabatic Tents
3 First Ascent Alpine Assault Tents
2 First Ascent Pantheon Dome Tents
30 -20°F sleeping bags
60 bottles of oxygen
7 portable Medical Kits
2 Gamow Bags
medical oxygen
2 laptops
satellite modem
a satellite phone
portable DVD player
array solar panels
97 pounds of cheese
103 pounds of sausage, jerky, and other meats
Over 2,000 Pro Bars, candy bars, and granola bars
24 pounds of Gummy Bears
22 pounds of Hot Chocolate
40 pounds of Starbucks Ground Coffee
45 pounds of salsa
With the supplies moving their way towards Basecamp we turned to finalizing permits for the climb. Upon picking up the Expedition Leader Peter Whittaker at the airport, we went straight to the Ministry of Tourism to secure our Everest Climbing Permit. Sitting around the well-polished wood of their conference table, sharing the seats of the many mountaineering legends who have passed through before, we discussed our planned camps, our gear supplies and our itinerary with a representative of the Ministry and our Liason Officer. Then, after Peter signed a flurry of paperwork, we walked triumphantly out of the Ministry with our Permit in hand.
Now that the team is assembled in Kathmandu the final details of are settling into place and the climb is taking shape. The next task is to follow our supplies up the Khumbu to Basecamp, take stock, and focus our energies on the mountain.
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