Nepal Earthquake

I just learned of the devastating earthquake news out of Nepal.

In the interest of clarity for those who might not have read my initial entry, I am writing my Everest narratives from a journal I kept during my trip, which ended two weeks ago. I am back in Singapore out of harm's way.

It's hard to think past the tragic loss of life, but the reality is that Nepal is one of the world's poorest countries and will be hard pressed to handle the economic costs of meeting the immediate needs of those suffering, let alone trying to recover long term from the disaster.

A couple of minutes ago, I made a contribution to Catholic Relief Services, which is one of my favorite charities. If you could spare a few dollars, I would encourage you to also consider a donation to one of the numerous international relief agencies.

Here's a link from CNN with a list of agencies assisting in Nepal. http://edition.cnn.com/2015/04/25/world/nepal-earthquake-how-to-help/index.html

I appreciate all of you who have been reading my blog, but in light of today's events, I feel it best to suspend my posts for awhile. 

Everest Expedition (Day 9) - Dingboche

Trail to Dingboche, Nepal

"The guides are so serious all of a sudden," a fellow trekker said to me today. I've noticed it too, although it's subtle. There's less talking on the trail. There's less joking, and the guides are sticking closer to their trekkers, but mainly it's the increasing frequency of questions.

"How did you sleep last night?" which really means, Did you have any shortness of breath?

"How are you feeling today?" which is really asking, Do you have a headache? How intense is the headache? Is the headache getting worse? Do you have any nausea, vomiting or dizziness?

"What did you think about that last climb?" which is really meant to ascertain a hiker's energy level and rate of breathing.

If I were a guide, I'd be in everyone's business, too.

We're well above 10,000 feet, the altitude where 40% of us would be expected to experience some form of acute altitude sickness The Merck Manual of Diagnosis and Therapy.

Rest, drugs, or, perhaps, a day or two at a lower elevation, can alleviate most acute altitude sickness, but what the guides are really concerned about are the two biggies - high-altitude pulmonary edema (fluid in the lungs) and high-altitude cerebral edema (swelling of the brain).

If those strike, it's life threatening, meaning the hiker has to be moved to a lower altitude immediately. Fortunately, such reactions occur in only about one percent of the population, but it's always on the minds of the guides.

Enough of the medical talk.

In case you're wondering, the picture at the top of this post is from a mountain pass about two hours straight up from Phortse Villlage.

I've already mentioned my guide, Pasang. It seems like an excellent time to also introduce you to my porter, Dorje.

I carry my own backpack, which is the tiny blue thing on the right, but Dorje carries extra gear that I won't need during the day, such as my sleeping back, poncho, and any extra clothing. Really, I probably don't need a porter because my pack is so light.

When I arrived at Lukla, one of the guides picked up my pack and laughed because it weighs about 15 pounds (7 kg). Hey, I've learned to travel light, but Dorje's services were included in my fee, and I feel good about providing him with the work. Plus, I plan to give him a nice tip.

As Pasang has told me on more than one occasion, money is hard to come by in the Himalayas, so trekking-related services are a way to earn a lot of much-needed income.

Dingboche, Nepal

We've now arrived in Dingboche. At 14,304 feet (4,360 meters), it's about the highest I've ever been, certainly the highest altitude where I've attempted to hike for several hours. It took me six hours of grueling trekking to get here. The view didn't come cheap.

The foot traffic is picking up, both with hikers and with porters carrying supplies to base camp on Everest.

Although there's an occasional "hello" from passing trekkers, each person seems to be absorbed, concentrating on the rocky, uneven trail; not wanting to waste too much energy in pleasantries, energy that's needed to climb; and focusing on reaching his or her personal goal, which for one might be getting to base camp or for another getting through the next hour.

Tomorrow, I've got another "rest day," featuring a local, two-to-three hour acclimatization hike and afterward just two more days to Everest. I'm extremely excited.

My strength remains high. My ankle feels fine, and the only problem I've experienced with the altitude is a slight headache.

Even though I haven't been in contact, I feel your positive thoughts and your love floating to me through the chilly, mountain breezes as I continue my trek toward the top of the world.

Everest (Day 8) - Phortse Village

Phortse Village, Nepal

Welcome to the latest stop on my Nepalese tour, Phortse Village. About the only foreigners you'll find here are headed to or from Mt. Everest. It sits at 12,573 feet (3,810 meters).

Here's my tea house.

Today's trek took four hours, another up and down affair. Each day, the names of the villages change, but the hikes are almost identical - long,difficult, and tiring.

Still, even on the toughest days, the views can't be beat. I know. I know. You're heard it before, but the pictures just don't do the landscape justice. Pictures can't convey the smell or the sensation of the crisp, cold mountain breezes blowing against one's body. Pictures give no hint of the sound of solitude at the top of mountain passes. Pictures can't capture the satisfaction of making it successfully to the end of another hike.

Life is difficult here, especially the work.

Planting Potatoes 

One of the most important crops in the Himalayas is potatoes. These women are planting them by hand, after having dug up the rocky soil with simple spades. Subsistence farming is the norm.

Bulls are also used to make the task a little easier.

I discovered an interesting fact about meat. Because the country is overwhelmingly Buddhist, many Buddhists won't slaughter livestock, so meat has to be carried up from Kathmandu, just like everything else.

Imagine unrefrigerated meat after two or three days on the trail. That's why it's not recommended to eat it above Namche. Everest turns a lot of hikers into temporary vegetarians.

Before I began my hike, the owner of my trekking agency told me there are several mental challenges on the journey. I've already faced rain and fatigue. Today, it was illness.

My stomach has been out of whack for the last couple of days, which is understandable because hygiene tends to be lacking at higher altitudes. That's not a criticism. Water is a precious commodity, so there's not a lot to go around for things like hand washing. I've got hand sanitizer, but I can't control the rest of my environment.

This morning, I again awoke seeing my breath, with the added challenge of how to get through the day so far from a toilet. Sure, there's always a rock to hide behind, what my guide and I like to call the "mountain toilet," but, well, you get the picture.

A prescription pill got me through. I'm hoping my problem is short lived.

I realize though that it's all part of the experience. Lately, I feel each morning that I must answer to some kind of nameless, faceless, impersonal mountain god. He's got only one question, "Do you want to keep moving forward?"

That's it. He doesn't ask me if I've had a good night's sleep or if I'm sore or if I'm in the mood to hike five more hours.

It's just a simple, "Are you in or are you out?" It provides amazing clarity. My answer has been nothing but an enthusiastic "yes," each day. The only alternative is a long, disappointing walk home.

The bottom line is no one cares about my problems, which are minimal. All trekkers share a common goal, but we each are on our own journey with our own set of challenges.

At lunch, I witnessed the heartbreaking sight of a hiker limping toward his table, barely able to move. I wasn't sure if he was going to make it to the other side of the room, let alone any farther up the trail. I'm sure his journey is about to come to end.

That's the cruel, random fate of the trek. That's Everest.

Everest Expedition (Day 7) - Khumjung

Khumjung, Nepal

I've now arrived at Khumjung, a small village known for its Sherpa culture. If you're attempting to climb to the top of Mount Everest, this is where you'll probably find the porters and guides to get you there.

One of the tourist attractions here ...

is a 600-year-old monastery
containing a rather unusual
relic, a supposed scalp of  a Yeti, "Abominable Snowman".






I made a small donation to see the glass case with the artifact and was allowed to take a couple of pictures.

Judge for yourself.

 

Is this part of an Abominable Snowman?

Khumjung is located at 12,475 feet (3,790 meters). The 1,000-foot gain in elevation took me about two and a half hours of serious, uphill climbing.

The higher I hike the colder it gets. Down jackets, down sleeping bags, and hats are now a necessity. Mornings are rough. With no heat, the second I unzip my sleeping bag the frigid air chills my bones and leaves me seeing my breath each time I exhale.

The accommodations in the Himalayas are called tea houses, simple structures with a common bathroom and a communal dining room.

The only temporary reprieve from the cold is a cast-iron stove that gets lit in the dining room each evening for a couple of hours, which is why you'll find trekkers, guides, and porters alike seated around the stove struggling to keep warm.

Speaking of the dining room, the food has been quite good and quite abundant. I can choose anything from rice dishes to pasta dishes to pizza. I've never had so much food piled on my plate, which makes sense because I need the extra calories for hiking, but my guide told me that digestion slows down at higher elevations, so it's a real guessing game to eat enough food without overdoing it.

The national dish of choice is called dal bhat, a platter of soupy lentils, rice, and normally some type of vegetables, such as potatoes. As the saying goes, "dal bhat power 24 hours." Dal bhat has powered me up my share of mountain passes.

Although 80% of the population is Hindu, Buddhism still permeates all aspects of life in Nepal. Believers turn prayer wheels to obtain blessings and for good luck. The wheels contain scrolls inside with mantras written on them. Buddhists believe that when someone spins a wheel the mantras are activated and released, bringing positive benefits to all.

Travelers often turn the wheels upon leaving or entering a village, a practice I've embraced, seeking any assistance I can get.

In many ways, I feel like I'm living hundreds of years ago, as far as transportation. If a person wants to get to another village, he walks because there are no cars, buses, or even roads. The only alternative is a rather expensive helicopter ride, which is out of the question for most.

At this point in my trek, I've passed the last major outpost, Namche. From here forward, the climbing gets harder and harder, but each step is bringing me closer to the Everest base camp.

Everest (Day 6) - Namche - Rest Day

This is the view I woke up to this morning. Not bad.

Although it was a "rest day," I'm beginning to realize the term "rest day" is a euphemism for "you're going to do a grueling hike but you're just not leaving the village" because I trekked for about three hours, most of it uphill, to further acclimatize.

I'm certainly not complaining. It just makes me think there are some difficult challenges ahead, if this was my "rest day." What are I being prepared to face in the coming days?

This morning, I felt a bit of a minor headache but nothing else to indicate the onset of altitude sickness. Having suffered the condition in Peru, I know what to expect, and it was a far cry from that debilitating experience.

My guide Pasang says the fact that I haven't had any more serious symptoms of altitude sickness, as well as my continued high-energy level, are both positive early signs, as we head toward even higher elevations.

This psycho-looking guy is me at the conclusion of my steep "rest day" trek to the top of a mountain above Namche.

After hiking, I enjoyed one of life's simple pleasures - a hot, $4 shower. Hot water is at a premium, so showers cost extra. However, it's so cold at night without heat that most trekkers chose to forgo bathing, which I'd done for three days, but since I finished my hike early, and the sun was still out, I took advantage of the opportunity, not knowing when I'd have it again.

By the way, here's my latest room, which has been the most comfortable, so far.

Tomorrow, I'm back on the trail.



Note;  After two days of flight cancellations, the rest of my group finally made it to Lukla, but they'll never catch up, so it looks like I'll be hiking solo throughout my journey. At least, I get along with the guy in the picture.

Everest (Day 5) - Namche Bazaar

Namche Bazaar, Nepal

Namche is seemingly in the middle of nowhere, but it's a bustling market village rivaling Kathmandu, as far as the availability of goods, especially anything related to trekking.

The village is built into a mountain face, 11,286 feet (3,440 meters) above sea level. I arrived here after a strenuous, five-hour hike, climbing almost 3,000 feet in elevation.

This was the most terrifying part of the trek. Do you see those two suspension bridges dangling in space? Yep, I had to cross one, the higher one. My guide said many a hiker has wanted to turn back at this point, and on more than one occasion, my guide has had to hold a trekker by the hand, leading him across, while the hiker shut his eyes. Now, take a look at the rocks on the far right leading uphill. Actually, that's the trail. It gives a good indication of what I climbed up and down most of the day.

I'm not afraid of heights. I love rappelling into caves, but this was not an experience I enjoyed - gingerly walking across a bridge hundreds of feet above a river, a bridge that bounced with each step and swayed in the breeze, a bridge with two-way traffic, some of whom were porters weighed down with tremendous loads that forced oncoming walkers to turn sideways and cling to the side. If you're curious, yes, people have been knocked off occasionally.

I chose to not glance down.

Here's a closer view of one of the bridges, a much lower bridge I encountered earlier in the day. There was no way I was pulling out my camera for the big one or doing anything else that caused me to lose focus.

Still, what a thrilling hike. The views throughout were nothing short of stunning.

Today, I learned a couple of basic rules of the trail. First, porters and animals have the right away. Second, hikers, next to cliffs, always need to stay to the inside of passing animals, especially donkeys, because they've been known to push people off. For that matter, it's also a good idea to not walk to the outside of porters because sometimes they might not see an approaching trekker.

So far, my body is holding up well. My guide, Pasang, kept reminding me to slow down, although at times I felt like I was a 90-year-old man taking baby steps.

I wanted to trek much faster, but Pasang said the secret is to keep moving forward at a steady pace, don't lose one's breath, and give the body time to acclimatize to the altitude gradually. I've now reached a height where altitude sickness can begin to appear, but I feel great.

This morning, the rains stopped, leaving me with gorgeous weather and allowing flights to resume to Lukla, at least for a few hours, before fog shut down air traffic again.

I'm not sure if the rest of my group made it to Lukla, but my trek continues. My guide this afternoon said I'm a "very lucky man" for having left a day early. I feel fortunate in more ways than one.

Tomorrow, I'll enjoy a luxurious rest day because trekkers need additional time to acclimatize at certain elevations before moving higher; however, I'll still do a local hike, although it will be a much shorter day.

I hope you're enjoying my blog. I'll keep you posted from Nepal.

Everest Expedition (Day 4) - Phakding

Phakding, Nepal

I might have made the wisest decision of my trip by asking to fly to Lukla early because fog and rain cancelled flights for the entire day, meaning I hiked to Phakding alone with just my guide and a porter.

Before arriving in Nepal, the director of my outfitter warned me to be mentally prepared for poor weather. Sure enough, I hiked three hours this morning in nonstop, pouring rain. Fortunately, Mountain Monarch provided a poncho, as well as a down jacket and a sleeping bag, due to the cold nights.

This is the type of terrain I trekked on. In places, the trail was paved, but it mostly consisted of dirt interspersed with stones, intended to provide better footing in inclement weather;

however, I found the stones to be quite slick in the rain, filling my mind with visions of ankles snapping. Still, I think I did rather well, and my weak ankle feels O.K.

I promise this isn't going to degenerate into some kind of medical blog, "The Daily Exploits of Mark's Ankle," but it's a key factor in my hike.

Back in college, my right ankle ended up in a cast twice in four years. Since then, I've had to wear an ankle brace for excessive exercise and have avoided serious injury.

My plan for the trek will be to wear the brace at all times while on the trail, take ibuprofen daily, do a series of exercises each night with an elastic band, elevate my ankle while sleeping, and hope for the best.

If anything, I'm mentioning it because no one considering the trek should let a physical issue, within reason, stop you. I've talked to people with a plethora of conditions ranging from knees to backs to shoulders to you name it, and they're walking the same path.


Earlier, I naively asked my guide if we were hiking along some sort of tourist trail. He laughed and said we were walking along the ONLY trail. There are no roads in the Himalayas, so the trail serves as the artery between the villages. Any supplies have to be carried up, which explains why we shared our route today with a lot of foot traffic, as well as donkeys, cows, and yaks.

I can't tell you much about the vista because my head was covered by a hood all day and clouds shrouded the mountains.

I'm staying overnight in the village of Phakding, located at 8,694 feet (2,650 meters), so I've dropped a little bit in elevation. Don't worry. I'll make up for it tomorrow.

There's not much happening here, just a stop along the way to Everest.

The accommodations are rather basic but comfortable enough. There's a common toilet down the hall, the Western kind. We'll see if that lasts.

The sleeping bag on the bed will come in handy because I've discovered that there's no heat in the Himalayas. Apparently, it's just too expensive.

Tomorrow, it's a biggie - five to six hours of trekking to Namche, and it's mostly uphill. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that the rain stops.

Everest Expedition (Day 3) - Lukla

My mom and I maintain a don't ask/don't tell policy. She never inquires about any potential risky activities during my trips abroad, and I never tell her, until I'm home safely. That might explain why I never mentioned I'd be flying into Lukla, the gateway to Everest, and home to the world's most dangerous airport. You can spot the runway on the far left of this picture. (Click on photo to enlarge)

Lukla, Nepal

Pilots must battle unpredictable, ever-changing weather, tricky wind currents, and, oh yeah, they fly through the Himalayas, seemingly so close that it felt like I could reach out and touch the mountains on either side.

Flights are frequently postponed or cancelled, much to the frustration of hikers, but an old adage clearly illustrates why, "In Nepal, our clouds have rocks in them."

Above all, clouds present the greatest threat to pilots because, without radar or navigation equipment at Lukla, pilots rely on their line of sight to land. If the weather isn't clear, if clouds roll in unexpectedly, they're flying blind, which is why if there's any doubt about the weather, planes are grounded.

And there's one more hazard of flying into Lukla - an inclined, 1,600 foot (487 meter), tiny runway beginning at the edge of a cliff, hundreds of feet above the valley floor, and terminating at the base of a mountain.

After a pilot makes his approach, there's no turning back. He's got one shot to stick the landing and bring the plane to a stop within the equivalent of about five American football fields.

Take a look for yourself.

Once it landed, the plane took less than 10 seconds to reach the number "24," where I was standing on the mountainside. Had it gone any farther it would have met a rocky end.

Here's video I took of the plane departing. The 12% incline helps planes speed up for takeoff and slows them down while landing. It's the equivalent of a 10-story building.

Pretty sobering, but for some reason, the thrill of the flight outweighed any fear.

However, the airport has had its share of accidents, including fatal ones. Back in 2004, a plane without passengers rammed into a nearby hill, killing all three crew members. Then, in 2008, high winds blew clouds in at the last minute, covering the runway, just as a pilot was attempting to land. He missed the runway, hit a fence, and crashed, resulting in a fireball that killed 18.

There's an alternative to the 30-minute flight: a 12-hour bus ride, followed by, at least, a two-day hike, but most trekkers don't have that sort of time. During the height of tourist season, as many as a dozen planes land here each hour, so I felt that the odds were in my favor.

Lukla, itself, is a sleepy village, but the view is breathtaking. It's surrounded on all sides by snow-capped mountains. Sorry, I don't have any better shots because a few minutes after I landed clouds rolled in.

By the way, in several of my pictures, you'll see these brightly-colored flags. They're called Buddhist prayer flags. Buddhists believe the flags generate spiritual vibrations that are released when blown by the wind, carrying good will, compassion, and blessings to all.

The rest of the day I explored the village, including a monastery, and spent several minutes watching an impromptu cricket game.

My plans are a bit sketchy. My outfitter allowed me to fly to Lukla a day early in case bad weather cancels a day or two of flights. Unfortunately, I have little flexibility in my vacation schedule. Right now, that appears to have been a wise decision because the weather forecast is grim.

Tomorrow, hopefully, the rest of the group flies in after breakfast. If there are any major delays, I'll begin my trek without them, since my guide is already here. Later, the group will catch up.

I can't say enough about Mountain Monarch Adventures. This morning, the owner picked me up at my hotel, drove me to the airport, and walked me up to security, where an airline representative was waiting.

The rep escorted me to the front of the check-in line. Ten minutes later, I was in the departure lounge. After the plane landed, another contact was waiting to walk me to the hotel, where I met my guide.

I paid a little more, but so far, the service has been stellar and worth every cent.

As far as the altitude, I've jumped from 4,600 feet in Kathmandu to 9,186 feet (2,800 meters) in Lukla.

It's much colder, and I've been struggling to catch my breath going uphill, but other than that, I feel good.

Tomorrow, I'll hike to Phakding, with or without the group.

I can't believe I'm finally in the Himalayas. It's even more than I expected.

Everest Expedition (Day 2) - Kathmandu

Kathmandu is a city of five million, seemingly set up to cater to the country's second most important source of revenue - tourism. I've never seen so many sporting goods stores selling outdoor gear ranging from hiking poles to sleeping bags to footwear. Still, despite the overabundance of tourists and commercialism, Kathmandu has its charm.

As part of my trekking package, I visited a couple of the city's famous sights, including Pashupatinath and the Boudhanath Stupa.

Pashupatinath is considered to be the most holy Hindu location in Nepal. It's where the dead are brought to be cremated, next to the holy river.

On the other hand, the stupa is one of the most holy sights for Buddhists, worldwide. A stupa is a shrine containing relics, often the ashes of Buddhist monks, that is used as a place of meditation.

It's the largest in Nepal and one of the largest stupas in the world.

The eyes on four sides represent the all-seeing eyes of the omniscient Buddha.

Before the cultural tour, I received my pre-hike briefing. It's obvious that the guides and the company's director know what they're talking about, which put my mind at ease.

I'm looking at trekking days ranging from 3-7 hours. That much hiking, especially with my bad ankle, makes me nervous, but nothing ventured, nothing gained.

Tomorrow, I fly to Lukla - home of the world's most dangerous airport - to begin my 12-day adventure. I hope you'll join me for the thrill ride.





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.

Everest Expedition (Day 1) - Kathmandu

There's a dramatic advantage between flying 8,000 miles from America to Nepal and flying about six hours from Singapore, although I'm still beat.

My trip aboard Malaysia Airlines went without incident; however, when we hit a rough stretch of turbulence, I noticed several worried expressions. I imagine it will take years for people to begin to forget about the company's two aviation tragedies that received so much attention worldwide.

I arrived around midnight, got my visa, and was picked up by a representative from my hiking company, Mountain Monarch Adventures. Nice touch.

Already, the difference in climate is quite noticeable and quite refreshing. In Singapore, the only seasons are hot and hotter. Here, I'm wearing fleece. In Singapore, we're at sea level. Here, the altitude in Kathmandu is 4,600 feet (1,400 meters).

If you're wondering, Kathmandu is nine hours and 45 minutes ahead of New York City and two hours and 15 minutes behind Singapore.

Tomorrow, I'm off to do some sightseeing in Kathmandu.

Good night.





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.