Thursday, June 25, 2015

Australian Winter Holiday - Coastal Walk



Bondi Beach, Australia


High temperatures in the 60s and lows in the 40s didn't slow down the locales from swimming, but my sister, Susan,and I decided to stick on land and just admire the view.




You're looking at Bondi  Beach. On a weekend, summer day, upwards of 35,000 people come here.

Still, visitors year-round enjoy strolling along the cliffs of the coastal walk that winds through four scenic beaches along the way.



The two-hour journey is an impressive way to take in the beauty of the Pacific.




Susan even managed to spot another migrating, humpback whale about a mile off shore.

I can't say enough good things about Australia's commitment to parks and its public transportation system. Bondi is an easy, 30-minute, $3 bus ride away from Sydney.

Sadly, we must wrap up our Australian holiday. I'd highly recommend a visit to Sydney. The nightlife is lively, the residents quite friendly, and there's a plethora of places to see.

Best of all, I got to spend a week with my big sister, minus the distractions of work and child rearing. Great time.

I leave you with something to ponder – where will you be in the year 2065?

Before taking off for my summer break, I saw a student poster asking this very question. Statistically speaking, I'll be long gone from the face of the Earth, as well as the rest of my family and friends, unless I somehow live to be 100.

Sobering isn't it.  It seems like I just graduated from college, and yet this weekend, I'll awake as a 50-year-old man.

Time is passing. What are you putting off? Why not do it now.


Wednesday, June 24, 2015

Australian Winter Holiday


Sunset in Sydney Harbor - June 21, 2015

One of the fringe benefits of teaching is ample opportunity to travel and the best time to do it is at the end of terms, which is why I headed to Australia, where I met my sister Susan in Sydney.

Animals were high on her list, although our first attempt to see them didn't pan out.

We set out on a cruise through Sydney Harbor into the Pacific Ocean in search of humpback whales.



A sighting is never guaranteed,and sure enough, we saw nothing. Fortunately, our company, Oz Whale Watching, offered us a free return cruise. Two days later, we gave it another shot.




        Success!

                              Three humpbacks ...
                                        


                                              one literally jumping out of the water.

                                                                


Experts theorize they do it for numerous reasons:





competitive displays among males, a warning for perceived threats, a form of communication, and a technique to scare prey.

The whales got to within 50 yards of the boat. Awesome display.




 I'd highly recommend the company.


More animals back on land –  Australian style.







Koalas








                           

 Kangaroos








           



Wombats, Dingos, and Tasmanian Devils.







The Featherdale Wildlife Park even allows guests to interact with some of the animals, such as the kangaroos my sister met up close.




The most popular resident is the koala. If it looks a bit tired, you're correct. Koalas sleep up to 20 hours a day, normally just waking up long enough to eat their favorite – eucalyptus leaves.



Sydney is a cosmopolitan city attracting visitors and residents from around the globe who come to enjoy its impressive collection of






ethnic restaurants, parks, museums,







and its famous waterfront featuring the opera house.




It's winter now in Australia. Today, June 21st, we marked the winter solstice, the shortest day of the year in the Southern Hemisphere, while the Northern Hemisphere enjoyed the summer solstice, the longest day of the day.

We weren't anxious to take a swim, but the beaches are still a big draw year-round.

That's the last destination on our tour, which I'll share tomorrow.

Thursday, June 11, 2015

Everest Expedition (Day 16) - Last Stop


Kathmandu, Nepal - April 11, 2015

For two weeks, it was all mountains, but I must admit I also enjoy the chaos that is Kathmandu.

My journey is now almost complete. Here are some final numbers. In all, I hiked approximately 102 miles (165 kilometers) round trip, including my acclimation hikes. It took me about 58 hours.

This video might help you visualize the trek and what I went through.

I never doubted I possessed the will to make it to base camp, but I feared, on more than one occasion, that my ankle wouldn't hold up. Ibuprofen got me through. I'm sure an orthopedist would have discouraged my trek, but as my loved ones often remind me, I can be quite stubborn.

The other unknown for all high-elevation hikers is altitude sickness. Fortunately, I just had a brief brush with that problem.

Would I trek to Everest again?

No.

The trek was one of the most incredible travel experiences of my life, a series of fond memories I'll always cherish; however, it was also the hardest physical and mental challenge I've ever faced.

The hiking alone – ascending 1,000 to 2,000 feet a day in altitudes above 10,000 feet – presented enough difficulty, not to mention the frigid temperatures, lack of hygiene, and basic – some might say primitive – living conditions.

Heat just doesn't exist in the Himalayas. The thought of getting up in the middle of the night, braving the arctic-like chill to urinate in a hole in the ground could be overwhelming. Many of my fellow trekkers said they preferred to hold things in until morning, when the same frigid air awaited.

Life became simple – hiking, eating, sleeping, and trying to stay warm around the cast iron stove in the dining room of each tea house.

Most of all, a repeat trek couldn't top the original. With the exception of The Godfather Part II, I'm not a fan of sequels. I prefer to stick with my initial feelings gazing up at the snow-capped Himalayas for the first time.

Would I recommend the Everest Base Camp trek?

Absolutely.

The scenery is unparalleled and the thrill of pushing through the daily adversity rewarding beyond words. This is coming from someone who's given up on his fair share of pursuits in his life. With the trek, the only option was to keep moving forward or turn back, admitting defeat. Short of injury, I wasn't allowing that to happen.

If you go, I recommend that you buy the best boots you can afford, as well as trekking poles. The poles prevented me from falling down steep slopes on numerous occasions, as well as helping me get up some rough inclines.

Finally, prepare yourself physically and mentally for the hike. The best thing I did beforehand was climbing up 30 floors of stairs each morning. Stairs are your friend. You'll be grateful for any past encounters with stairs when you're struggling to reach the top of mountain passes.

Even though I'm not back yet in Singapore, friends are already asking me what insights I gained from the trip.

First and foremost, I learned that anything is possible, at whatever age. I thought most of the hikers would be in their 20s, but I met trekkers spanning all generations. Personally, I'll turn 50 in two months and felt I kept up fairly well with the youngsters.

Second, I discovered the old adage "slow and steady wins the race" is actually true.

I'll bet I was one of the slowest trekkers in Nepal. My strategy, especially during difficult climbs, was plant hiking pole 1, plant pole 2, step, step. At times, I felt I was moving in slow motion. I called myself the robot hiker. I wanted to keep moving forward at a steady place and never lose my breath, stopping every hour or two to rest for a few minutes.

Often, younger hikers raced by me. My guide called them the "marathon trekkers." Interestingly enough, I consistently caught up and passed them because they repeatedly stopped, gasping for air.

My guide Pasang kept telling me to go slowly and focus on conserving my energy for the latter stages of the trek. He was correct because while many of the marathon trekkers ran out of steam and sounded like they were suffering from asthma above 10,000 feet the robot kept charging along ... plant pole 1, plant pole 2, step, step.

I'm trying to apply the concept of slow and steady to my personal life. I'm constantly in a hurry to get somewhere or to achieve something; however, it doesn't always seem like I'm covering much ground. Maybe, I'll get much farther ahead by taking my foot off the accelerator. It worked in the Himalayas.

Finally, with all my daily distractions removed, I was reminded of what's really important  – family, friends, and one's health. I'll bet I didn't think about work or possessions or money or deadlines or ... once.

Before I wrap up my latest journey, I want to thank several people.

I can't say enough about Mountain Monarch Adventures. With little flexibility in my schedule, the owner, Pradip Kumar Limbu, allowed me to fly to Lukla a day early in case of weather problems. Sure enough, rain and thick clouds cancelled flights for two days, but Pradip stuck to his word to allow me to begin my trek anyway without the rest of my group.

I know it must have been a scheduling nightmare, but Pradip never said a word, and he never said anything about my having a single room in the tea houses, although I paid for double occupancy. No extra charge for the single room.

On the last day when clouds rolled in threatening to cancel my return flight from Lukla to Kathmandu, I began to worry I might have to pay for a helicopter ride, costing upwards of $1,000. Helicopters can normally fly in more adverse conditions.

Fortunately, the clouds lifted. When I shared my fears with Pradip back in Kathmandu, he smiled and said he had a Plan B.

I had to ask.

Pradip revealed that he had already made tentative arrangements to fly me back via helicopter, at no extra charge, knowing my international flight left the next day. That's unheard of. It says a lot about the company's integrity and about Pradip himself.

At the same time, I want to thank my family and friends for their well wishes and support. Even though I wasn't talking to you in the Himalayas, I could feel your presence throughout.

I especially want to say how much I appreciate my parents and their overabundance of patience. When I told my mom I was headed to Everest, she responded with nothing but enthusiasm and encouragement. It's not easy having a son who's always wandering around the globe.

Last, but not least, I want to acknowledge my lovely girlfriend Alexandra who sent me the most uplifting email of all during my journey. Just before I left Kathmandu, she wrote that each morning while exercising she'd raise the incline on her treadmill as a gesture of solidarity. I cried when I read it and used those words as motivation on some of my most difficult climbs.

I've gone on long enough. I hope you enjoyed my Nepal blog, and I hope you find your own adventure soon, whatever that might be, but don't wait too long. The two major earthquakes are yet more reminders that life is so fragile and so short.



NOTE: These are the exact, unedited journal entries I wrote during my trip. Because of limited internet access in the Himalayas, I am posting them now, rather than during my actual journey, which I finished two weeks before the first earthquake. I hope it's not perceived that I'm disrespecting the dead or those suffering. On the contrary, I'm hoping to provide some insight into why so many people, considering the risks, continue to be drawn to the Himalayas year after year.

Tourism will likely be what fuels Nepal's recovery. Until that happens, Nepal continues to need our immediate help, which is why I'll continue providing a list of relief agencies for anyone wishing to donate.

Please see Why I'm Resuming My Everest Blog for an explanation of my decision to restart the account of my Nepalese journey.

Tuesday, June 9, 2015

Everest Expedition (Day 15) - Lukla Part II


I'm back where it all began, worn out, but otherwise safe and sound.

You would have laughed seeing me navigate the trail over my seven-hour hike, gingerly taking each step on each boulder, so as to not break anything on the last day.

However, there was a point to my madness.

Most climbers die on Everest, not during the ascent to the summit but on the way down because they're physically and mentally exhausted, which can easily lead to mistakes, bad decision making, and accidents. I had hiked too far to slip up at the 11th hour.


April 10, 2015





I especially kept an eye on these guys ...








and their lethal head gear.








I'm thrilled to be back. The highlight of the afternoon was taking a shower for the first time in nine days. Maybe that's why the yaks stayed away from me.

Tomorrow, I fly back to Kathmandu. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that the weather cooperates because the following morning I have to return to Singapore.

I'll have more from Kathmandu.



NOTE: These are the exact, unedited journal entries I wrote during my trip. Because of limited internet access in the Himalayas, I am posting them now, rather than during my actual journey, which I finished two weeks before the first earthquake. I hope it's not perceived that I'm disrespecting the dead or those suffering. On the contrary, I'm hoping to provide some insight into why so many people, considering the risks, continue to be drawn to the Himalayas year after year.

Tourism will likely be what fuels Nepal's recovery. Until that happens, Nepal continues to need our immediate help, which is why I'll continue providing a list of relief agencies for anyone wishing to donate.

Please see Why I'm Resuming My Everest Blog for an explanation of my decision to restart the account of my Nepalese journey.


Monday, June 8, 2015

Everest Expedition (Day 14) - Namche

The return pace is quickening.

After 11 days, I'm back in Namche with one more day of hiking left to reach Lukla, the gateway to the Himalayas.

I would rank today's six-hour hike around the toughest, both because I'm running out of steam and because a lot of the trek involved steep, downhill, dusty trails covered with loose rocks. It's not a good combination for someone with a weak ankle that's been swollen for days. On at least five occasions, I slipped, just managing to catch myself with my climbing poles.

Along the way, I thought I was about to become an accident statistic. A group of young, careless, obnoxious Americans was hiking above me on a winding, particularly nasty section of the trail that never seemed to end, a trail like something out of Dante's Inferno.

One of the trekkers caused a rock slide that missed us by a few feet. Her response, "Sorry." I'm an American, and I can't even stand obnoxious American travelers.

The important thing is I made it back safely to Namche.

Tengboche Monastery - April 9, 2015

Along the way, I stopped to visit the Tengboche Monastery.

With each passing day, I'm gaining more respect for the Himalayas. My guide today told me it has been his experience that roughly 50% of trekkers make it to the Everest Base Camp. The rest turn back due to fatigue, the extreme cold, and, most of all, altitude sickness.

That's in my past. Now, I'm just thinking of one thing, Lukla.



NOTE: These are the exact, unedited journal entries I wrote during my trip. Because of limited internet access in the Himalayas, I am posting them now, rather than during my actual journey, which I finished two weeks before the first earthquake. I hope it's not perceived that I'm disrespecting the dead or those suffering. On the contrary, I'm hoping to provide some insight into why so many people, considering the risks, continue to be drawn to the Himalayas year after year.

Tourism will likely be what fuels Nepal's recovery. Until that happens, Nepal continues to need our immediate help, which is why I'll continue providing a list of relief agencies for anyone wishing to donate.

Please see Why I'm Resuming My Everest Blog for an explanation of my decision to restart the account of my Nepalese journey.




Sunday, June 7, 2015

Everest Expedition (Day 13) - Kalapathar


Climbing Kalapathar - April 8, 2015

I've lived a charmed life throughout my Himalayan hike. I should have known it would continue.

I awoke at 4 a.m. to beautiful weather, so decided to climb Kalapathar for one of the best views of the Everest summit, aside from actually scaling Everest.

If you look over my left shoulder, you'll see the top of a black mountain jutting up from behind the mountains in front. That's Everest's peak.







Here's a closer look.






The rest of the scenery was stunning, as well, 360 degrees worth of snow-capped mountains.


View from Kalapathar


As I snapped these pictures, I was standing at around 18,000 feet. Kalapathar's summit lay at least an hour away. I felt fine, but reaching the top just didn't seem that important.

Factoring in my altitude sickness from two days before and the all-day hike awaiting me after breakfast, I decided happily to return to town, where most of my hiking colleagues were still sleeping. Plus, I'm not superstitious, but the mountain gods had been quite good to me during my journey. I didn't want to push my luck by being overly greedy.

After breakfast, I began my return hike. It took me nine days to reach base camp. Now, I've got three days to make it back to Lukla. How's that possible?

The big difference is I no longer have to worry about altitude sickness. My body is acclimatized to 18,000 feet, so I can push much harder dropping down in altitude.

Today, I lost more than 4,000 feet in elevation during a seven-hour hike to Pangboche, where I'm spending the night. My guide Pasang said the same hike going uphill would have taken two-and-a-half days. We think we covered almost 15 miles.

Even though a lot of the hike was downhill, seven hours trekking is still seven hours trekking; however, my body feels strong, although my ankle is rebelling.

Tomorrow, it's another long one.



NOTE: These are the exact, unedited journal entries I wrote during my trip. Because of limited internet access in the Himalayas, I am posting them now, rather than during my actual journey, which I finished two weeks before the first earthquake. I hope it's not perceived that I'm disrespecting the dead or those suffering. On the contrary, I'm hoping to provide some insight into why so many people, considering the risks, continue to be drawn to the Himalayas year after year.

Tourism will likely be what fuels Nepal's recovery. Until that happens, Nepal continues to need our immediate help, which is why I'll continue providing a list of relief agencies for anyone wishing to donate.

Please see Why I'm Resuming My Everest Blog for an explanation of my decision to restart the account of my Nepalese journey.



Wednesday, June 3, 2015

Everest Expedition (Day 12) - Base Camp


My guide Pasang and I at Everest Base Camp - April 7, 2015



I made it to base camp!

I made it with a little luck, a lot of help from my guide Pasang, and a daily dose of prayer.

If you had asked me early yesterday afternoon, I didn't think I'd ever get here. My headache was overwhelming, and I had zero energy, but after taking Diamox for altitude sickness, a pain killer, and eating a hearty bowl of soup, I rallied.

This morning, I faced a difficult decision  – take the Diamox again, which can cause dizziness, fatigue, confusion, and stupor, or hope that the altitude wouldn't bother me.

I went with the medicine.

First, I hiked two-and-a-half hours to Gorak Shep, gaining more than 1,000 feet in elevation to 17,349 feet (5,288 meters).

                         


At times, the trail seemed like a freeway, especially with the number of yaks carrying supplies to base camp.






One of my animal encounters was a bit too close. I saw a pair of horns headed toward me, dug in with my trekking poles, and hoped for the best.




Looking back, it's comical to think that my poles would have prevented a yak from knocking me off the trail, but fortunately, he just missed me, and I did follow the rules by keeping away from the edge of the drop off.








Also, I crossed paths with dozens of porters hauling gear to base camp. I'm told porters can carry upwards of 209 pounds (95 kg) on their backs. Incredible. The porters attach the loads to the front of their heads with a strap called a namlo.


After lunch, I hiked another four-and-a-half hours to the base camp, reaching an altitude of 17,700 feet (5,380 meters).

Everest Base Camp - April 7, 2015 (Prior to Earthquake)

If you look to the left, you'll see the orange tents of those hoping to scale Everest. The date is now April 7. Most climbers attempt to summit in May before the summer monsoons begin, so in the coming days, the camp will be jammed with people from around the world.

Back in 2014, an avalanche here killed 16 Sherpa guides, the highest death toll ever for an avalanche on the mountain. The guides, in protest of the government's lack of protection, refused to work, canceling the climbing season.

Despite last year's avalanche, there's more climbers this year than last. The government has issued 357 climbing permits.

 (The April 2015 earthquake triggered an avalanche that killed 19 people in base camp. The government wanted to reopen Everest, but the Sherpas refused to rebuild the climbing route, citing safety concerns, which again ended the climbing season for two years in a row).

Now, look to the right, that's part of the infamous Khumbu Icefall, the head of the Khumbu Glacier, where climbers begin their ascent of Everest.

Everest Base Camp - April 7, 2015 (Prior to Earthquake)

The icefall is considered to be the most dangerous part of the southern route up Everest because the unstable glacier moves downhill several feet a day, exposing climbers to the multiple threats of deep crevasses that can open up without warning, ice towers known to topple over at any moment, and avalanches.

While approaching base camp, I actually heard an avalanche, although I didn't see it, and returning to Gorak Shep, I witnessed a major rock slide. I was in no danger, but both incidents reminded me that the Himalayas can be unpredictable.

It's hard to describe my emotions at finally making it here after nine days of hiking. It's a combination of elation, relief, and a sense of accomplishment. It just feels good, but, at the same time, it's a bit anticlimactic.

As I arrived at base camp, I immediately thought of a card that my girlfriend Alexandra gave me last year with the famous quote by Alfred Souza, "Happiness is a journey, not a destination."

For years I'd dreamed of reaching base camp, but as I surveyed the landscape, I reflected more on how I arrived, not on what I was seeing  – the challenge of the daily, arduous hikes over some of the most beautiful mountains on earth; the hundreds of hours of preparation before the trek; the support and encouragement of my family and friends from the first moment I said I wanted to go to Everest; the gratitude of having a job and the health that allows me to wander the world.

That's what I'll remember, long after the exact details of what I saw today begin to fade. Yes, Alexandra, it is more about the journey.

On my return hike to Gorak Shep, I experienced the dark side of the Everest experience, what some might call the obsession.

For two nights, I'd been talking to a group of Hong Kong trekkers staying at my tea houses. On the trail, I came across one of the women, who was suffering from extreme altitude sickness.

The porter said she had a severe headache, had been throwing up repeatedly along the trail, and the circulation in her hand was so bad that she kept asking the porter to slap it to generate some sensation.

Both her porter and Pasang urged her to turn back, but she insisted on moving forward.

"There's a chance she could die," said Pasang.

Over the years, I've read numerous accounts of climbers who lost their lives on Everest because they refused to heed the advice of others and turn back from the summit due to adverse circumstances, but I'd never glimpsed it firsthand.

As I write this, I'm back safely at my tea house in Gorak Shep, and I'm feeling no altitude sickness, although the temperature is a bit extreme. The high was 26° Fahrenheit (-3° Celsius) and the low is expected to be 14°F (-10°C) with 20-30 miles per hour winds.

Tomorrow, is up in the air because as I walked back from base camp a snow storm moved in.



If the weather clears, I'll hike up Kalapathar to gain a good view of the Everest summit. If not, I'll start my return hike.





Ironically, it's impossible to see the top of Everest from base camp because the summit is hidden behind two other mountains. Either way, I'm a happy and an exhausted camper.



MEDICAL UPDATE: The following day Pasang found out that the Hong Kong hiker made it to base camp and afterward returned safely to Gorak Shep; however, she's still suffering from altitude sickness. The thought of hiking to Lukla didn't appeal to her, so she planned on taking a helicopter back, instead.


NOTE: These are the exact, unedited journal entries I wrote during my trip. Because of limited internet access in the Himalayas, I am posting them now, rather than during my actual journey, which I finished two weeks before the first earthquake. I hope it's not perceived that I'm disrespecting the dead or those suffering. On the contrary, I'm hoping to provide some insight into why so many people, considering the risks, continue to be drawn to the Himalayas year after year.

Tourism will likely be what fuels Nepal's recovery. Until that happens, Nepal continues to need our immediate help, which is why I'll continue providing a list of relief agencies for anyone wishing to donate.

Please see Why I'm Resuming My Everest Blog for an explanation of my decision to restart the account of my Nepalese journey.

Tuesday, June 2, 2015

Backpackers Helping Nepal Rebuild



Near Lobuche, Nepal - April 6, 2015


Backpackers could spark Nepal's recovery.


Everest Expedition (Day 11) - Lobuche


Near Lobuche, Nepal


This was one of the many culprits during my four-and-a-half hour hike, a hike with a 2,000-foot gain in elevation, a hike that's left me wondering if I can physically make it to base camp. A few hours ago, I would have said "no."

As I approached Lobuche, nestled at 16,174 feet (4,930 meters), my energy level dropped dramatically, and I developed a slight headache. When I finally sat down in the dining room at the tea house, the headache kicked in with a fury.

For an hour, I remained in a daze, wanting to get up but not having the stamina to move and fearing I'd throw up if I tried. At one point, I asked my guide Pasang when we'd begin our hike tomorrow to Everest. "We'll see," he replied.

That's not what I wanted to hear.

For the first time in my trip, Pasang didn't ask me how I felt. He didn't need to. He's been a guide long enough to recognize altitude sickness.

I understood what "we'll see" means. It means that if my condition doesn't improve I'll be returning to Dingboche.

Although many of my trekker colleagues have been gobbling down the medicine Diamox to prevent and reduce the symptoms of altitude sickness, I resisted, until today, when I took the drug, as well as a pain killer. I had no choice. I don't want to turn back.




The picture above sums up my entire hike. The landscape is beautiful. The experience is magical, but, at times, it's difficult work, just putting one foot in front of the other.  Look closely at the hikers on this easier section of the trail. They're not joking around. They're not talking. They're not even smiling. They're just focused on the task at hand, and although they're in a group, they're really very much alone.



For most, the goal is to just make it to Everest. For others, it's to climb to the top, which is why the trail is now clogged with porters and yaks hauling gear to base camp.

When I began my trip, I said that I wanted to do it for the experience, and it's been a wonderful one, but now my trip has become more of a challenge – dealing with the extreme cold; pushing through the fatigue of the daily, multi-hour hikes; and overcoming illness and the altitude.

Speaking of the weather, the high today was 40° Fahrenheit (18° Celsius) and the low 26°F (-2°C), which helps explain the difficulty of life without heat.

As I look toward tomorrow, I've got another 1,600 feet to conquer. I hope I make it, but my guide keeps reminding me that anything can happen in the Himalayas and that, ultimately, Everest is in , charge.

I am feeling better, and I remain optimistic, as does Pasang; however, if I don't get to base camp, Pasang this evening left me this with these words, "All life is precious. The mountain will always be there."



NOTE: These are the exact, unedited journal entries I wrote during my trip. Because of limited internet access in the Himalayas, I am posting them now, rather than during my actual journey, which I finished two weeks before the first earthquake. I hope it's not perceived that I'm disrespecting the dead or those suffering. On the contrary, I'm hoping to provide some insight into why so many people, considering the risks, continue to be drawn to the Himalayas year after year.

Tourism will likely be what fuels Nepal's recovery. (See Adventure Travelers Helping Rebuild Nepal). Until that happens, Nepal continues to need our immediate help, which is why I'll continue providing a list of relief agencies for anyone wishing to donate.

Please see Why I'm Resuming My Everest Blog for an explanation of my decision to restart the account of my Nepalese journey.



Monday, June 1, 2015

Everest (Day 10) - Dingboche - Rest Day



Dinboche, Nepal


On my rest day, I awoke to an overnight snow, making my two-hour hike all the more scenic. Originally, my guide Pasang wanted me to hike an additional couple of hours, but after we reached an overlook, he decided to give me the rest of the afternoon off, saying it was a good idea for me to conserve my energy for the task ahead. Tomorrow, I hike to Lobuche, leaving me just one day from Everest base camp.

Over the last week, I've seen several hikers struggling, but during my "rest" trek, I witnessed something far beyond that. It's one thing to get winded, but this trekker seemed to be on the verge of hyperventilating, laboring with each step, as if it might be his last.

A guide was accompanying him the whole way, surely suggesting that the trekker turn back, but a guide can't force someone to stop. I knew he needed to stop. My guide said he needed to stop, and I'll bet the hiker knew he needed to stop, but onward he went.

I admire persistence, but if I'm struggling that much in the future I'd like to think I'll listen to Pasang. Then again, I can be quite bullheaded. Although we're each on our own journey, it was painful watching a fellow hiker endure such an ordeal. I fear he's headed for trouble. Hopefully, I'm wrong.

As I write this, I'm enjoying a hot cup of tea and anxious to get one step closer to Everest. My goal is almost within reach.



MEDICAL UPDATE:  At the end of my trip, I found out that the struggling hiker began to exhibit signs of pulmonary edema, so he was airlifted back to Kathmandu, where he fully recovered.

NOTE: These are the exact, unedited journal entries I wrote during my trip. Because of limited internet access in the Himalayas, I am posting them now, rather than during my actual journey, which I finished two weeks before the first earthquake. I hope it's not perceived that I'm disrespecting the dead or those suffering. On the contrary, I'm hoping to provide some insight into why so many people, considering the risks, continue to be drawn to the Himalayas year after year.

Tourism will likely be what fuels Nepal's recovery. Until that happens, Nepal continues to need our immediate help, which is why I'll continue providing a list of relief agencies for anyone wishing to donate.

Please see Why I'm Resuming My Everest Blog for an explanation of my decision to restart the account of my Nepalese journey.