Our Quest to Everest



A 12-day trek to base camp



Sagarmatha in Nepali


Chomolungma in Tibetan


Holy Mother Peak


Or otherwise recognized as the highest mountain in the world.


Regardless of which name it goes by, Mount Everest is re-known worldwide, and stands as the pinnacle of ultimate trekking achievements. For us, it started as a personal challenge, to reach Everest Base Camp and witness the beauty of the Himalayas. But we soon realized that in order to see the most raw and natural splendour of the the Khumbu mountain range, we would need to strip ourselves of all our essential comforts.


It would be difficult, but it would be life changing. This is how it all began.






Take-off



To start off the hike, we had to take a small 16 passenger airplane from Kathmandu to land in Lukla airport at an altitude of 2845m. The airport has been regarded as one of the most dangerous in the world due to it’s incredibly short runway of 527m (compare that to let’s say Montreal’s airport runway which is 3353m long) and the fact that the strip terminates with an abrupt cliff drop.


To put that into perspective, if the plane is unable to gain sufficient speed for takeoff within 7 seconds or so, then it will plunge several hundred feet down the mountain cliff. For that reason, the runway is actually inclined to aid in the plane’s landing deceleration and takeoff acceleration. What better way to get the heart pumping before our hike!






After having successfully landed the plane, we took in a deep breathe of truly fresh Himalayan air. For the next 9 days, we would be trekking uphill on average 5-7 hours per day with the ultimate aim of reaching an altitude of 5380m, where the Everest Base Camp lies.


Every day, we would not only be limited by the thinning air as we gained altitude, but also the elevated risk of Altitude Sickness. To give us our best chance, we opted to take Diamox pills and drink lots of garlic soup (apparently the local remedy?)







First Altitude



As we started climbing our first slope, we were faced with our first surprise. At an altitude of 2800m, there is actually only about 15% effective oxygen in the air (compared to the usual 20.9% at sea level). Although seemingly a small difference, we just lost a quarter of our normal oxygen and we definitely felt it.


Walking on flat ground, we were able to easily keep up our regular comfortable pace. But the moment we hit a slight incline, we slowed down to a turtle’s pace. Or Nan would describe it as the pace of an old lady window shopping. Placing one foot in front of the other was all we could focus on.






And then suddenly, I heard some quick shuffling footsteps behind me so I decided to cede the path (also to catch my breathe!). There stood a porter, probably only about 5foot3 in height, carrying on his back what must have been over 40kg of packed beverages. You know how heavy one of those 24-can packs of coca-cola can be? Now imagine strapping 6 of them on your back and climbing uphill!!


Actually, one important correction: The local porters don’t strap it to their backs but instead have a strap against their forehead and bear most of the carrying weight through their head/neck. Most of these straps are just basic ropes, nothing padded to even offer some comfort. As a Physio, I had to cringe but after asking our guide, he said they trained that way since a very young age.








And over the next 9 days, we would be constantly humbled by the sight of these porters, a reminder of how truly hard working and strong-spirited the Nepalese people are. Because everything we would eat on the mountain, or the beds we slept on, or the propane tanks used to cook our meals, even the all the materials used to build the lodges, all of it was carried up by porters this same way.


Since there are no roads for cars, the only way the tea houses are built and restocked is through the carrying power of the porters and yaks. At one point, we saw a group of locals carrying an entire tree trunk up hill. We later learned that this piece of wood would be used to build a new teahouse. And it would be built this way, one piece at a time.











Struck down by illness



Getting back to our hike, we continued striving to reach our first landmark, Namche Bazaar. At an altitude of 3440m, it would be the only large town we would encounter during the entire hike. It would also be where we would take our first acclimatization day (A day of rest to allow the body to adjust to the altitude and reduced oxygen levels).


But…before arriving, I was struck down by illness. On just the second day of our hike, I caught a bug causing horrible diarrhea. The diarrhea itself didn’t bother me too much, it was more the fact that my body lost all its fluids/nutrients/energy and I was no longer able to eat. Hiking uphill, at high altitude, with limited oxygen, and depleted food energy was excruciatingly difficult. Having made it only half way to Namche, I had no choice but to stop and rest over night in one of the tea houses. The worry of not making it to the top hung heavily over my heart.








First cold night



First cold night This would also be our first experience of how cold it gets in the mountains. You see, the tea houses are made of slim wooden planks, non-insulated, and not heated. We each curled into our sleeping bags and zipped it up fully until we were cocooned like mummies. The air in the room was close to 0 degrees. We dreaded needing to crawl out of our sleeping bags to go to the washroom. Unfortunately for me, I had to get up 4 times due to the stomach bug. And it was freezing cold…





We survived the night and fortunately for me, my diarrhea gradually got better. My appetite was still terrible, only allowing for a few bites of food per meal, but at least I regained some energy.











As we continued to climb, we left behind the beautiful rivers and forests and crossed above the tree line at 4000m. With every passing day, we would have the chance to see more and more incredible views of the Himalayan mountain ranges. Although the struggle would increase in difficulty as we climbed, the captivating scenery drove us forward. By day, we would be enamoured and in glee. Warmed by the sun and entranced by the beauty of the mountains, nothing could stop us.








But as the night set in, we were stripped of our essential comforts. There would be no shower after a tiring day of hiking. The rooms lacked the warmth that we were accustomed to (In fact, the temperature inside the room is the same as the temperature outside). To brush our teeth, wash our face etc…, our hands would freeze in the glacial tap water (which was actually water carried from the glacier and held in a big jug). There was also no meat protein for our meals which did not help with the body heat generation.




Potatoes, Potatoes, and the people



In fact, the local living conditions in the mountains is so harsh that they are unable to grow crops. Instead, it must be carried up once again by porters from the lower villages. Meat also would be transported this way but imagine how hygienic it would be by the time it is carried over 5 days in a basket to reach the village. We were confined to potatoes, eggs, carrots, and porridge for the most part. Although tasty, after a while it got repetitive.


But this allowed us to truly live and feel the local conditions in the mountain. Taking this away would remove quite an important component of being immersed in the Himalayas and truly appreciating the spirit of the Nepalese people. No matter how heavy the load they were carrying, or how cold it was washing their clothes in the river stream, all we saw were smiles and friendly laughter. Not one person did we see complaining.






High up in the dangerous altitude



So embracing the energy of the people we saw around us, we trudged forward. Reaching Dingboche at an altitude of 4410m was another landmark. At 4410m, it was usually the point where people develop increasing symptoms of Altitude sickness (the effective oxygen drops to 12% at this altitude). Altitude sickness, or AMS, is the negative health effect of high altitude, and symptoms include headache, nausea, vomiting, and dizziness. In the worst case scenario, it can develop into High altitude pulmonary edema (HEPA) or High altitude Cerebral edema (HACE), swelling in the lungs or brain, which can result in death.


For that reason, at this altitude, we needed to be very careful in monitoring our symptoms and managing how we proceeded. Everyday, we would worry that our body would not be able to take the altitude anymore and we would be forced to descend. Regardless of how fit you are, altitude sickness affects every individual independently. But the fear of not making it to the top, after so many days of perseverance, hung heavily over both of us.


At Dingboche, there was another scheduled rest day where we go for a 3 hour climb but then descend back to Dingboche to sleep. The critical part is that we sleep at the same altitude again, allowing our bodies to better acclimatize. At this point, both of us felt some headache that would turn to a pounding headache whenever we exerted ourselves too much. For that reason, whenever we climbed any slopes, it would be at that turtle’s pace once again. As much as possible, we would help push each other uphill whenever one of us would feel the effects more heavily.







Surrounded by spiritual mountains



Climbing 3 hours up a hill to reach 4800m, we got one of the most spectacular views of the entire trek. For Nan, it turned out to be her favourite. From up top, we had a closeup and unrestricted view of the beautiful Ama Dablam mountain as well as its neighbouring peaks. The sky was clear blue and the snow from last night sparkled in the sunlight. We sat on the rock silently, taking it all in. All around us, standing infinitely high and imposing, were these snow-capped giants. Mountains are believed to embody spirits or Gods, and from there, we could feel it. Reaching our hands out, we could almost touch it.












Returning to the lodge, we ordered our dinner and sat down with our guide to the usual game of Cards. He had taught us a few Nepali card games but after teaching him Big 2, that’s what he repeatedly wanted to play. Sipping on the hot lemon tea, away from cellphones and technology, it was nice to be back to a simple and basic lifestyle: connecting with others. It was also at this lodge that we started to see certain people having difficulty with the altitude. Some struggled and felt ill, whereas others had to be flown out by emergency helicopters. When symptoms become severe, the only cure for Altitude sickness is descending, and subsequently giving up your dreams of making it to the top. The roaring of helicopter blades overhead every 10 minutes or so was a constant reminder of the potential danger of Altitude sickness (or of the rich tourists who were able to afford the 4500$USD Everest helicopter sightseeing tour!).






The final steps



We met people from all over the world, from the US, to Australia, to China and Italy. People came from all over the world to achieve one common objective: reaching Everest Base Camp. And we were so close that we could almost taste it. From Lobuche, we would hike 4 hours up to Gorak Shep (the highest lodge of the hike at 5164m), and from there push 2 hours up Kala Patthar (a 360 degree viewpoint at 5643m), then back to Gorak Shep to rest and have lunch, and then 4 hours to Everest Base Camp. After all that, we would have a 2 hour hike back down to Lobuche for the night. We kept in mind that these were estimated times, but at this altitude, anything can happen to cause delays.


It was going to be a BIG day but considering that neither Nan or I felt great at that altitude, we definitely did not want to risk sleeping higher at 5164m of Gorak Shep. As an individual sleeps, their breathing and heart rate slows down, and at the significantly diminished oxygen levels, it can become dangerous. So as we zipped ourselves into our cocooned sleeping bags, our hearts pumped with anticipation and sleep did not come easily.



Into the true wild peak



After a night of waking up 3 times to go pee (once again, in the freezing cold), we got up at 6AM to have breakfast. This was going to be THE day. We left our sleeping bags and stuff unpacked in the room and prepared our day packs only since we were returning here at night. With walking sticks ready, we started our ascent to Gorak Shep.





From here, we saw the landscape truly change. We were surrounded 360 degrees by some of the Himalaya’s highest mountains of the likes of Mount Nuptse, Mount Lhotse, and of course, Mount Everest. Gradually as we passed over the hill, the Khumbu glaciers came into view. It’s indescribable what we felt then and there. The only way I could put it is that we finally entered the true wild, untouched, and raw nature of the Himalayas.


No longer were we protected by man-made railings or bridge crossings, or trudging on paved hiking trails. Instead, here we were openly vulnerable, we were but a tiny piece, a visitor to mother nature. So barren, so dangerous, and so magnificent. One small avalanche and we could be wiped out. Here we balanced on the beautiful edge of the world, straddling the line between fascination and fear. I assume those who ascend mountain peaks must get a similar feeling of getting to an untouched place of nature that nobody has ever been before.






And with that came the truly challenging part of the hike. We scrambled over rocks and boulders the size of tables and chairs, each step dangerously close to an accident. We continued trekking within the cold shadows of the mountains but as the sun rose, the mountains lit up in a fiery orange. Rays of light reflected off the pure white snow casting this celestial glow in the sky. At that moment, as the mountains stood over us like magisterial figures bathed in a heavenly aura, we could truly understand how the Nepalese people believe that the mountains are spirits and gods.


Step by step, as the effective oxygen levels dropped to about 11% (almost half the oxygen available at sea level), we really felt the struggle of every movement. Controlling our breathing was critical, because the moment we developed a shortness of breathe, the pounding headache would return. Neither of us felt top shape by then, but we pushed on to reach our objective. Nothing could stop us.






After reaching Gorak Shep, we bought some hot tea at the hefty price of 8$USD for a small pot. But that is the opportunistic cost. After trekking up 9 days from Lukla, we could fully understand the immense effort required to bring up the tea leaves, the garlic, the lemons. On top of that, water was not easily available. Porters would run out early in the morning to retrieve buckets of water from the glacier, which is quite a dangerous task. Just carrying ourselves to the lodge was challenging enough, I couldn’t imagine lugging multiple liters of water.







Base Camp



We set off to Everest Base Camp at noon with around a five-hour return hike ahead of us. So far, we were on schedule to make it back to camp before sunset. After making the steep climb to Kala Patthar, our energy reserves were quickly depleting but in front of us was what we’ve been struggling to achieve for the past 9 days. THIS was our ultimate objective.







As the distant view of Everest Base Camp came into sight, we knew it was within reach. From afar, we saw the dangerous glacier patch known as the Khumbu icefall, and was reminded of the ‘Sherpa’ documentary we saw on the way up. When preparing the multiple camps along the ascent up Everest, teams of Sherpas are required to carry food/oxygen tanks/tents/equipment/etc… across a very dangerous patch of moving glacier (the Khumbu icefall). They must cross at night because once the sun rises, the glacier begins to melt and shift which creates a very hazardous environment. Within this Khumbu icefall, the sherpas are very prone to falling into deep limitless ice crevices, risk being crushed by gigantic falling ice boulders, or even deadly avalanches.


Despite the unrepresentative pay they receive, the Sherpas cross this ice field 20-30 times in order to provide all the necessities to the summiteers. Yet in the end, it is the summiteers that get all the glory. This thought of how hard they work day in and day out, risking their lives to provide for others, gave us the determination to push on.







After over 3 hours of trekking through the cold, at 3PM, April 3rd, 2018, we finally reached Everest Base Camp. Having pushed through physical, mental, and emotional challenges over the past 9 days to finally reach this goal, I was overcome with emotion. We saw the familiar faces of other Trekkers that we encountered along the way up and we gave each other smiles of gleeful acknowledgement. But after 10 minutes there, the clouds set in and snow began to fall. We were freezing and the journey was not over because we still had to make it back over the treacherous path of boulders. And that was when Nan’s headache got way worse.




The Blizzard at 5000m



We had to retrace our steps on the same challenging route over boulders and ice covered rocks to get back to Gorak Shep. With every step, her head was pounding more and she had to rest every 2-3 minutes to control it. The snowfall intensified and the sun was covered by overcast, removing our only source of warmth. With more than 2 hours of hiking ahead of us, we knew we were in trouble. I went in front of Nan and grabbed onto her two walking sticks to help her move forward. Despite the surging headache and gusts of wind, she got up and pushed on. With the increased exertion, my head began pounding as well but at this point, we had no choice but to persevere. In this rocky patch, rescue would be very difficult. Reaching deep within to find what energy we had left, we fell into a trance of placing one footstep in front of the other.


At 5PM as the sky grew dark, after over 10 hours of hiking, we finally reached Gorak Shep and plopped onto their bench. Gazing outside at the intensifying snow storm, we knew there was no way we would make it back to Lobuche. At the same time, another two individuals entered the lodge. 1 was visibly weak and needed to be assisted by 2 other guides to sit close to the fire. Another lady who just entered the lodge broke into tears, clearly overcome by the dangerous struggle she had just faced. For us, we had left all our sleeping bags, clothes, and belongings down in Lobuche, so this was going to be a cold night. We crawled under the 3 blankets and curled as close as possible to each other in the attempt to retain as much body heat. Still covered in sweat, cold, and exhaustion, We collapsed quickly into a deep sleep.





We need to go down...NOW!



I was then awoken abruptly at 4AM by a thundering headache. I had headaches throughout the hike but this one was different. I think at that point, my body was telling me “you have to go down now!” I woke Nan up and we immediately went to search for our guide. I was already feeling weak and nauseous, with a surging headache, the cardinals signs of Altitude Sickness. And I knew the only thing that would fix it is descending to a lower altitude. Trouble is, we couldn’t find our guide.


In the pitch black of the lodge, we went into the dining area where to our surprise, over 20 guests were sleeping on the ground. Due to the high volume of trekkers, and the lack of rooms, many people were left with no alternative but to huddle on the floor, wrapped in their sleeping bags. One by one, we flashed our cellphone light at each rolled up bundle, but many faces were covered in thick clothing, making it even harder to find him. Fortunately, after half an hour of searching, our guide appeared. He had slept outside in a tent, at -20C, in the blizzard.


Finally at 5AM, we set off in the snow towards Lobuche, trying to go down as quickly as possible. As the sun rose, I was again struck by the beauty of the Himalayas, balancing my pain with the sensation of euphoria.





Finally, after 2 hours of hiking and a drop of about 200m in altitude, we reached Lobuche and I immediately felt a big improvement. We sat down for breakfast at the lodge and saw another hiker plopped on the bench exhausted. We asked him how he was doing and he told us that he also had a headache and had vomited and lost his appetite. But for him, he was heading up. We warned him as best as we could of the risk of Altitude sickness and gave him our experience and recommendations. Clearly many people were struggling at this altitude.


As we continued to descend, our bodies felt better and better. The 9 days of cold however were really taking a toll and our bodies still felt weakened. The last 3 days we would retrace our steps all the way back to Lukla. There, we would hope for clear enough weather for the plane to bring us back to Kathmandu. We dreamed of having Szechuan food and meat, which provided us with the motivation to get through the final long days of hiking! That was our new objective and nothing would get in the way of it!



Will we make the flight back?



As we descended back below the treeline, snow turned to rain. We continued trekking through to the small Lukla airport. I remember sitting there, with over 100 other trekkers, exhausted but having a sense of pure accomplishment. A sense of having overcome our own limits to experience something truly unique, enlightening, transcending. It was one of the most difficult things we’ve ever done, but without a doubt one of the greatest experiences of our life. I sat there recalling the quote I heard,


“Life begins at the end of your comfort zone”


I couldn’t agree more.


As we sat there in the airport, every time we heard the whirring of the plane rotors, we all grew in excitement hoping that this was our ticket out. 30 minutes later than schedule, but then it was our turn!







In the end, we cannot say that we conquered Everest. We were simply guests of the mountain and were allowed a safe passage to the top. We are but a small piece in this massive puzzle that is Mother Nature. As the famous mountaineer Anatoli Boukreev once said


“Mountains are not stadiums where I satisfy my ambition to achieve, they are the cathedrals where I practice my religion”.


Ascending to Base Camp was not a claim to fame, but instead a pathway that brought Nan and I closer to nature, our true selves, and to each other. And it is something that we will carry on with us forever.