Everest Story (Better Late than Never) Trekking for the Breast Cancer Fund

Boudhanath Temple

OK, so it's been nearly a year since my return from the Everest Trek. So I'm a bit of a procrastinator. At least I'm getting this down before I head out on my next trek for the Breast Cancer Fund. On July 13th I depart for Ladakh, a remote region of Kashmir that lies between the Kunlun and Himalayan ranges. 
Finally, here it is, the Everest Story.

23 April, 2011, Korea

The restrooms are clean in Seoul Incheon airport. The toilets have a sensor in the back that you wave your hand above and a fresh layer of plastic wrap slides out across the seat for your sanitized comfort.  It took me a moment to figure out what the box on the wall was for…the one that says “Etiquette bell”.  It must be for disguising any impolite noises that might squeak out. When I figured it out I burst out laughing and the rest of the crowd in the bathroom fell silent. Crazy American.

Suvarnabhumi Airport Hotel, Bangkok, Thailand

I’ve forgotten my brush. 6822 miles on an airplane and all I have are my fingers to work through and re-braid 3 1/2 feet of snarled hair. But I arrived in Thailand safely and my baggage made it all the way from Maui and I have 5 hours of blissful horizontal sleep ahead of me before I have to hop on a plane for another 1373 miles of flying. There are fresh orchids in the room.

24 April, Bangkok airport

3 things to be grateful for this morning:  Reflection of bedside lamp on the ceiling in the shape of angel wings; tasty breakfast of seaweed salad, miso soup, rice and salmon; meeting up with my friend Kevin in the Bangkok airport.

3 things I want to practice on this trip: Humility; patience; fearlessness.

Kathmandu! 

It was like Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride from the airport to the hotel. I love it already although it is 6 times as big, busy and polluted as when I was here is ‘85. My fabulous roommate/tent mate Marcy and I have a room at the Shangri La that looks out on a huge English style garden with a manicured lawn, dahlias, zinnias, hollyhocks, snapdragons, jacaranda, bougainvillea, a garden restaurant and a pool. We immediately jumped in a car to see Bodinath Temple, the holiest Buddhist site in Kathmandu and one of the largest spherical stupas in Nepal. We circumambulated the stupa for some mesmerizing people watching and hopefully karma building.  Brock reached to spin a prayer wheel and was touched by and received a blessing from a Tibetan nun. I saw people prostrating and heard birds, bells, the clacking of spinning prayer wheels and the low mumbling voices, “om mani padme hum”. From the temple we went to Nepal Chulo where we ate a traditional Nepali meal complete with raksi (a distilled rice liquor) and Everest beer. There was Nepali music; flute, drums, violin, vocals, and dancing that we got to join in on.

25 April

Photographing the garden in the dawn grey light I heard a rustling in the bushes. Out jumps a black cat with a giant rat in its mouth. Good kitty.

26^th April

This morning I heard my first ever cuckoo. A real live cuckoo! At first I thought it was a clock.

Our illustrious guide and mother hen, Cathy Ann Taylor, performed magic tonight! Our welcome dinner took place outside by the pool after a cleansing thundershower. The clouds made way for us leaving a spectacular starlit evening for our festivities. The pool was surrounded with fairy like lanterns and a group of classical Indian musicians played tabla drums and sitar. Waiters wandered around us serving Everest beer, wine and hors d’ouvres before we took our seats at a magnificently laid table where we stuffed ourselves with traditional Nepali food. Bougainvillea climbed 30 feet up the wall behind us and a hibiscus tree towered above.

Kumari ~ Sanskrit for virgin.

 In Kathmandu’s Durbar Square, residing in Kumari Ghar is a 5-½ year old girl who is worshipped as a living goddess. She is believed to be the incarnation of the goddess Taleju (equivalent of the Hindu Durga). She was selected at age 3 ½ and will live in the ghar until she menstruates or a major illness or injury occurs. The selection process is rigorous. Eligible girls must be from the Newar Shakya caste of silver and goldsmiths, the same clan as Buddha. She must be in excellent health, never have shed blood, lost teeth or been afflicted by disease. After passing these requirements five Buddhist priests look for the ’32 perfections of the goddess’. The neck like a conch shell, body like a banyan tree, eyelashes like a cow, thighs like a deer, chest like a lion and voice soft and clear as a duck. What? Sounds kind of freaky to me.  She must show signs of serenity and fearlessness. To prove this she must spend the night alone in a room with the heads of ritually slaughtered goats and buffalos. Imagine being 3 ½ and having a night like that.  The last test is to pick out the belongings of the previous Kumari from an assortment of objects. Once chosen her feet may never touch the ground so she lives on the second floor of the ghar. On the rare occasions that she leaves the home she is either carried in a golden palanquin or by an attendant.  During the day people gather in her courtyard because even a glimpse from her from the windows is supposed to bring good fortune.  We happened to be there at just the right time. She stood in the window looking out at us all for about two minutes. The courtyard became hushed with a reverent air. It was strangely moving. I felt honored. I know that some of our group considered it appalling that this practice occurs. That a child is taken from her family and kept prisoner… and made to sleep with goat heads for crying out loud. To me it’s just one of the rich cultural and religious differences that make the world so interesting and keep me traveling.  We were not allowed to photograph her so I am including a photo from the web as well as my own photo of the ghar.  

photo from internet

27^th April – Phakding – 8900’

Flying into what has been called the most dangerous airport in the world was not what I expected. Being somewhat of an adrenalin junky I was hoping for another Mr. Toad’s wild ride, the airborne version.  I wanted to be scared. It was exciting but we had perfect weather and competent pilots so our twin otter 18-seat plane landed gently in Lukla at 9383 feet. I know there were some on the trip who were infinitely grateful for the circumstances and of course I was glad no one needed their airsick baggie and we didn’t crash so I guess all in all it was a good thing. On to hiking.

We crossed a 3 ‘ wide 350’ high suspension bridge and saw rhododendron, fairy gentian, Formosa trees and primulas. Cathy Ann tells us we have 68 mammals attending us throughout the course of our trek. That includes local guides, cooks, porters, dzos (yak/cow hybrid), yak drivers and their yaks. Kind of embarrassing. We are a group of 15 strong, capable men and women; you’d think we could set up our own tents, right? Boil some water for saimin? Carry a 40-pound pack? That’s what I think at the beginning. Then I hit the Namche Hill, the trail leading into Namche Bazaar. Climbing from an elevation of 8600’ up to 11,286’ in one afternoon on a steep, dusty switchback trail I suddenly didn’t feel so bad about the 68 mammals helping me. As young men and old women passed me carrying plywood, firewood and rebar, it was apparent I hadn’t trained enough this year. Huffing and puffing I made it into the village that is a bustling trade center for the Khumbu region. We stayed in a lodge with yaks and mountains outside our windows. I was happy for the bed as I was hit with a major allergy attack, likely brought on by Kathmandu smog and yak dung dust, and spent the next day sleeping off Benadryl while the others did an acclimatization hike.

Namche Bazaar

Saw a mother with a newborn baby lying on a blanket outside their home. The mother was gently rolling the baby back and forth and lightly stroking her skin as if she were giving her a sunbath. Beautiful peaceful scene. Entered Sagarmatha (Everest) National Park today. Wild irises abound.

30 April – Thame – 12,500’

Took a side trip to a village where Cathy Ann has good friends. We drank gallons of tea during our visits. I shared photos of Maui with them and left gifts of stickers and a t-shirt from my gym.                                    

1 May - Thame to Khumjung 12,500’

Woke up in Thame to awe-inspiring mountains all around. Had a glorious, warm walk up to Thame Monastery. We saw a blood pheasant and tahrs raiding a potato field. Tahrs are large ungulates related to wild goats. Had lunch by a brook in a primula filled meadow below the peak Khumbila.  Later, light rain turned to steady rain, and then to hail as we climbed up to Edmond Hillary’s hospital in the village of Khunde. The hospital was built in 1966 and is sponsored by the Sir Edmund Hillary Foundation but is run by local doctors and midwives and serves 5-8000 people in the Khumbu region.

2 May  - Khumjung to Tengboche 12,680

Fairy tale trail in the morning through red birch, trailing moss like mermaid hair, air heavy with bird song. We’ve been eating yak meatballs, yak burgers grilled yak cheese sandwiches, lots of veggies and delicious soups. Love the food!

I’ve read about Tengboche and the surrounding mountains since my early 20s. To actually be there, to see the monastery in person was surreal, especially so because the buildings were shrouded with clouds and fog, a hazy mysteriousness pervading my brain. The second highest lama at the monastery performed a puja for us in his private courtyard, blessing us and our prayer flags, chanting for a safe journey. We sat in the chillingly cold assembly hall listening to monks in heavy robes intoning their devotion. Tengboche monastery sits at 12,700’ on a ridge above the confluence of the Dudh Kosi and Imja Khola rivers. It was built in 1923 then destroyed by earthquake in 1934. It was rebuilt and destroyed again by fire in 1989. Once again, it was rebuilt with the help of volunteers and foreign aid. 

Tengboche Monastery

Mountains around us are Ama Dablam, which Cat has climbed, Khumbila, Thamserku, Kang Tega, Kusum Kanguru and a bit of Lhotse. The only one I can recognize from my photos is Ama Dablam. I couldn’t keep the others straight.

               

             

3 May – Labarma - 14,500’

Beautiful camp in a yak grazing meadow with a stone hut. Solitude. Sun peaking through clouds warming the tents. Beans, potato hash with cheese, greens, momos, which are a type of dumpling and hot soup. Delicious. It’s amazing the importance food takes on when you are burning 5000 calories a day. There’s a young colt that looks as though it can’t get any milk from its mama. Ribs are showing on both. There’s not much grass here for her. I hope they make it.

Ama Dablam

4 May – Dingboche - 14,500’

Short, steep hike up to Ama Dablam base camp at 15,700’. There are a few tents, probably 2 expeditions climbing. Cat points out camps 2 and 3, where she spent the night on the mountain before getting to the summit. It is frightening and exciting at the same time. Although it makes me edgy, I understand the appeal, the desire to get to the top. We saw a tiny orange, long tailed varmint, a Himalayan mongoose. It was much smaller and cuter than a Hawaiian mongoose. We held a ceremony at base camp, calling out the names on our prayer flags, letting them blow in the wind. It is always heart wrenching when I realize how many names I can recite, how many people I know who have suffered from cancer. In the afternoon we left the tourist route and took a yak trail along a creek, through thick scrub smelling deliciously of cinnamon, crossing watersheds with high rocky edges. Super fun. Sushi and pizza today!!

5 May – Lobuje - 16,200’

This morning one of our group headed back down the trail to return to Kathmandu. She was not having fun. She was feeling the effects of altitude and decided to avail herself of more hospitable climes. Sad to see her go.

   

Glorious clear morning hike along the Khumbu valley. We sang all the way to our lunch stop at Dughla at 15,100’ then stopped singing as we climbed slowly and steeply up to 16,250. We passed a grouping of too many stone cairns, memorials to sherpas and climbers who lost their lives on Everest. Very sobering. An appropriately chill wind blew across us as we surveyed the site. Delicious toasted yak cheese and popcorn at teatime. I’m in love with the cook.  We hiked up a ridge behind our camp for a view all the way down the Khumbu glacier to the icefall. We camped practically on top of the glacier. At least it felt that cold. I didn’t even read before sleep because that would have entailed putting my hands outside my sleeping bag. I zipped up tight wrapped around my trusty Kleen Kanteen water bottles that had been filled with steaming hot water. Cat told us our coldest night was 22 degrees, which is not bad but not exactly what I’m used to on Maui.

6 May – Gorak Shep – 17,000’

We woke up under clear skies, surrounded by majestic mountains. Hiked for about 2 hours up and down and up to Gorak Shep at the base of Kala Patar. After some snacks and a short break we trudged up the barren trail to the top of the molehill. Well, it looked like a molehill compared to Everest but it didn’t feel like a molehill climbing it. It’s not a technical climb, no ropes or crampons, but it is high, and it was a steep, breathless hike to the top. Cathy Ann says it is 18,192’ but in December 2006 a professor from Portland University determined that it was actually 18,514’. That’s my story and I’m stickin’ to it, the highest I’ve ever been. We all made it to the top where we devoured Snickers bars that Cat surprised us with. We flew our flags in the icy wind in honor of our friends and family. We shouted out their names to God, Buddha, Shiva, whoever would listen, to watch over them in their struggle with cancer. Back at the base we were rejuvenated by momos, green beans, soup, popcorn and mint tea. By 7:15 I was inside my cozy tent with my hot water bottles.

On top of Kala Patar, Everest behind on the left

7 May -  to base camp

The morning after our climb three members of our group were sent down to lower elevation. They had rough nights, suffering the effects of altitude and rather than spend an extra night at a high camp, Cat decided they should head down to 14,000’. The rest of us headed over to Everest Base Camp. Since we had to hike all the way down to 14,000’ in the afternoon we had a time limit on reaching base camp. There was no guarantee we would make it all the way so I decided to join another member of our group, Jacque, on a warm flat rock at the side of the trail below 25,790’ Nuptse to rest and wait for the others while they raced down the glacier towards Everest. I’ve always been one to GO GO GO. I’ve always wanted to do and see everything and all of it RIGHT NOW. It was an exercise in patience and constraint for me to stop, to let the group go on without me, to give up the golden egg. But there was so much beauty in front of me, so spectacular a scene that I just wanted to sit and soak it in. I wanted to watch the clouds go by and contemplate the majesty in front of me rather than spend the next two hours watching every step I took so as not to fall. And it turns out I was rather tired as well. After time spent in rumination and photo taking I completely passed out on the rock, disturbing Jacque’s peace by loudly sawing logs. It was blissful! And I still saw base camp, albeit from afar, and during the afternoon’s seemingly endless descent through wind and fog to our low camp I was grateful for the extra rest I had taken.                      

Camp at Gorak Shep

Everest Base Camp from Afar

Snowfall at Gorak Shep

8 May – Mother’s Day

Marcy’s daughter had Cat carry a Mother’s Day card to be delivered this morning. She shared the beautifully written tearjerker with us. Another ailing member of the group bailed out by horse. She will meet us in Namche Bazaar. The dining tent sounded like a TB ward at breakfast. Almost everyone was coughing. I kept pounding my Echinacea tincture, hoping I wouldn’t catch anything. It took a full thirty minutes to get a brush through my hair and re-braid it. I contemplated cutting it before my next trek. Tonight is the last night in a tent, only two more days of trekking remain. I love the tent, the dirt, the trail, the food, the people. I don’t want it to end. I want to go back up to the base of the high mountains and sit some more, breathe in the beauty and the crisp air.

9 May

Awake to the sound of Happy Birthday played on a kazoo. Amy’s birthday, Diane’s musical styling’s, Marcy’s kazoo. I love these people. We left camp in sunny, warm weather, hiking up through a red birch forest and up to Tengboche Monastery again. This time the weather was perfect for photos and the mountains were visible all around. Had tea with Cat’s friend, a monk named Thinle, in his tiny, cozy, colorful quarters. We hiked out a different route winding in and out of ridges forested with blue pine and rhododendron and views of the Dudh Kosi. Did some last minute souvenir shopping in Namche Bazaar.

Sagarmatha (Everest) 29,029'

Tenboche

10 May

The hike down from Namche was easier than going up although the trail was steep and slippery in parts. Back in Lukla we stayed in a lodge with the airport departure gate right outside where we ate breakfast, the same place we started our trek. It felt like I’d been in a time warp, the first days seeming far distant past even though the trip had gone by in an instant. Very strange phenomena. We said goodbye to our crew with a ceremonial drink, passing out tips and donating gear. The cook inherited my boots! I was so happy he could use them since he had kept my stomach happy for the entire trip.

11 May – back to reality

Culture shock kicked in! It was jarring to be back in the noise and pollution but we lounged by the pool in our hotel oasis until our rooms were ready. We got checked in, had a luscious shower then five of us jammed into a tiny cab and rode to the Italian restaurant, Fire and Ice for the best pizza I’ve ever eaten and BEER! Yay, beer! Cat wisely doesn’t let us drink alcohol while trekking at high altitude so finally getting to imbibe an ice-cold brew was a delectable treat.  We shopped in Thamel, a district loaded with a staggering array of handicrafts, clothing, art, food, books, rugs, purses and anything else you might need. We then hired bicycle rickshaws for an exhilarating ride through mobbed, potholed roadways back to the Shangri La where piles of plastic bags, yak dung dust and smelly socks awaited.   

Thamel, Kathmandu

View from our room at the Shangri La

12 May

Went to the Tibetan Refugee camp in Patan where we watched astonishingly speedy weavers sitting on concrete floors in almost no light blending intricate designs into sturdy Tibetan sheep’s wool rugs. Upstairs was a showroom chockablock with rugs of different knot counts and sizes.

 

In the evening Cat out did herself once again, providing us with an opulent meal complete with 15 bottles of wine, which we readily depleted. The venue was Babar Mahal, a unique complex combining European, Indian and Nepali architecture that mimics, on a smaller scale various palaces, buildings and fountains around the Kathmandu valley. There are 5 courtyards surrounded by shops containing fine Nepalese art and artifacts, pashmina outlets, handmade paper goods and various restaurants and bars. Our farewell dinner took place in a stunning contemporary art gallery where we saw a demonstration of weaving techniques and learned to make momos, which we later devoured along with a chicken and pepper stir fry, steamed and fermented veggies, sausages and plenty of hot chilies. For a nightcap our hostess brought out a bottle of apple brandy from Mustang, a remote region of northern Nepal. It didn’t remotely taste like apple but packed a serious punch and provided a perfect finishing touch for our excellent adventure.  

Making momos

Each Sacred Trek I attend I expect my life to change with some profound epiphany but I seem to end up with subtle adjustments to my character rather than catharsis. Instead of being shaken abruptly to my soul I am carefully guarded and guided through the physical journey enabling quiet contemplation without fear, anxiousness or worry and I like that. My mind is free to wander. I am free to consider the deeper reasons for the trek. I’m trying to make my own, small little dent in the world, trying to alleviate some suffering, trying to help clean up some of the toxic mess mankind has inflicted on the planet and it’s people. I am sincerely, deeply grateful to all who support me in this endeavor. To everyone who donates their time, their money, their prayers and best wishes I want to extend a heartfelt thank you. The Breast Cancer Fund could not do what they do, could not be as effective an organization without your help, year after year. Again, I thank you.