Recently in The Trek to Base Camp Category

Greetings from Base Camp — the last few days have been filled with movement to Gorak Shep, acclimatization hikes to Kala Patthar and finally movement to our Base Camp site itself.

Since the last dispatch, our team headed further north from Lobuche, traveling further along the Khumbu glacier moraine and toward where our Everest climb begins. The rumors swirling about Nepalese Army checkpoints in Gorak Shep, confiscation of satellite equipment, etc. proved to be false, but all the teams (thirty teams were originally granted permits to climb) are talking about it and some of the more experienced guides here are discussing it privately, wondering what it all means. Climbing permits have been issued, and while there is a blackout summit window where the Chinese have their chance to get the Olympic Torch to the top, at present it doesn’t seem to affect us.

All along this leg of the trek we have a solid view of the Khumbu Icefall and even views at times of mountains that lie in Tibet. We are surrounded by the mighty peaks of Pumori, Lingtren, Khumbutse and Nuptse, and just out of view to the east are Everest and Lhotse. It’s really quite spectacular when the clouds and snow aren’t blocking out our views.

While the last two days were filled with crappy weather, today has been absolutely beautiful. No wind, only late clouds that roll in during the afternoon. At some points Everest comes into view, and you can’t help but stare up and realize that though you are currently sitting at 17,000 feet, there are still another 12,000 feet to go. If anything, it makes us more excited about what is to come.

Rolling into Base Camp, it takes us close to 30 minutes just to find our site.

This place is a mini-city and it takes wandering, asking, and moraine scrambling to figure out where we are going. At one point I bumped into Tim, the Canadian team lead we met at the monastery tea house, and we caught up quickly before again losing Willie in the jumble of rocks. Finally vectoring in to the correct site at the far end of Base Camp, we were introduced to our cook staff and the other two climbing Sherpas — Tendi and Lama Jambu. All appear capable and have the same smiling demeanor as Lhakpa. We are pointed to our tents — home for the next six weeks — and begin an unpacking job that sounds easier than it really is. Grab a bag, walk ten feet. Stop. Gasp for 30 seconds until you catch your breath. Walk ten feet. Stop. Gasp again. Repeat. Even rooting around in your tent takes some degree of effort and then everything stops when you hear a mammoth avalanche off the flanks of Pumori, immediately to the west.

There are easily 300 people here, if not more. This doesn’t include the trekking groups, which we hear are due to arrive in a few days and will easily swell those numbers. The campsite is on the Khumbu glacier itself, just at the base of the Khumbu Icefall to the east. To our north is a steep talus slope constantly pushing rock fall, and to the south the Khumbu glacier flows away along the path we followed to get here.

Willie runs around as a “Man With a Mission,” making sure everything is set up properly. This includes several sat phone calls back to Kathmandu. Francisco shows the entire group that he’s quite an engine mechanic by somehow getting the 16-year-old generator working, and Joe wires the electrical box with in/out currents to juice community tents and recharge batteries. Both turn out to be life saving accomplishments once the sun passed out of view and our camp area frosted over faster than you could say, “who turned off the heat?”

The cook staff whips up a ridiculously lavish meal for us, including spaghetti, coleslaw, hamburgers (we think Yakburgers) and fruit dessert. Then we huddle around a space heater and watch “Balls of Fury” before calling it a night.

Today we did a quick acclimatization hike up to about 16,800 feet or so.  Up top, Francisco offered up "Happy Birthday, Doug" -- this has to be one of the most unique birthdays I have ever celebrated, truth be told.

We then dropped quickly back to the lodge to rest and acclimatize for the rest of the day.  In a nutshell, this means that Joe brings out the poker chips and cleans everyone out; there's lots of talking and community movie watching.  The Bourne series, we learn, is a big hit with the Sherpas.  Later in the day, the team surprises me with a homemade cake and "Happy Birthday" sung in Spanish, Russian, English, Australian, and Nepali -- truly unique.

Willie rejoined us today, fresh off a quick three-hour climb from Dingboche. He's doing great, and we are all set for tomorrow when we'll continue higher up to Base Camp.  Willie did bring us news on potential news blackouts from Everest Base Camp through May 10th -- hopefully that won't happen.  Tomorrow, we will be packing away all satellite communication equipment, including the BGAN.  There's rumor of a police checkpoint en route to Gorak Shep, and we don't want anything confiscated.  So unless we learn otherwise it might be a while until we are able to upload dispatches again.

More to follow on the permits and the stipulations going along with them -- rumors are swirling, but the good news is that despite all that, the climbing part is still a go.

-enter cowboy music- bowm bow bow wow bowm bow bow wow bowm bow bow wow

-enter scene- Inside the galley, the cast iron stove flares to life bringing faint warmth to the occupants. Dark walls brimming with pictures and drawings of animals and trees line creaky wooden floors. Three hulking men sit menacingly in the shadows, throwing down cards. At another table, more well lit by windows that offer views of not too distant mountains, four play a game of Texas Hold ‘Em to pass the time, sipping slowly on their cups and concentrating heavily. “Check” says Joe. Others read or write as music plays faintly in the background and the cook chops diligently on vegetables right behind a bar riddled with various types of beer and whisky. Another weary traveler enters -- everything stops — and then continues when no six-shooters appear.

Outside, a horse whinnies as snow falls on adjacent rocks. The small four building town is almost as sleepy during the day as it is at night, nestled inside a side valley adjacent to the Khumbu Glacier moraine field. Wait, what!? Where the heck are we?

Thank Callie from PBS Frontline who visited here two years ago and a down day for that little wild-west scene. She put the idea in my head with an e-mail describing this town and she’s right on the money with a scene that could quite literally have tumbleweeds blowing down the center of town. Except for the ever-present Yaks, I’d totally agree. You can even rent a horse here to get a ride to Base Camp. Cost? Forty bucks.

Left Dingboche this morning at 8:00 for the trek to Lobuche at 16,100 feet.  The team moved strongly, and we moved quickly across the wind swept Phuung Kharka Valley where we gradually gained altitude and were mashed in with oodles of other trekkers.  It's funny how we all seem to be on the same schedule, and we constantly see the same band of IMG (International Mountain Guides), three Russians, and even this one woman who is absolutely in love with Francisco. Every time we see her, she gets all sparkly-eyed and says, "what beautiful black eyes!  And black hair!"  It's funny to the rest of us, but Francisco just patiently smiles back and steps up his pace.  

The trail moves along the edge of a steep drop-off on the east side of the Lobuche Khola valley, the head of which is dominated by the massive Chola glacier moraine. We all move along, iPods cranking as we wrap around the corner and vector in on the little village of Dughla -- a two hotel and tea house destination midway to our objective.

In Dughla, Francisco, Lhakpa and I grabbed a quick lemon tea before continuing up and bumped into one of our cook staff en route to Base Camp.  He's friendly, energetic, and Lhakpa tells us is among the best.  Francisco jumps on his sat phone to make a call while Joe continues on up the hill where the trail gains 600 feet in altitude.  It's not a lot all things considered, but at 15,000 feet its a serious lung buster.

After clearing Thokla Pass, we come upon a site of chortens (memorials) to fallen climbers, dedicated to those who have died on surrounding peaks.  We continue on, slowly, entering another valley and hiking along and through the moraine of the Khumbu Glacier.  This is the glacier that dominates the entire southern flank of Mount Everest - it makes up the Khumbu Icefall and Western Cwm that we'll soon be climbing. No more trees or even Junipers now, we only see grass and snow hidden among the rocks.  

Finally, we make the Eco Lodge at Lobuche.  To our right, Nuptse dominates the horizon, and we are only about a
six-hour trek from Everest Base Camp from here.  The lodge is amazingly nice, including a menu that has grilled cheese and chicken cordon bleu!  The lodge manager is not that friendly.  Guess finding lodge managers to park themselves this far out is difficult - they aren’t exactly growing on trees. Joe whips out his poker chips and takes us to town, insisting that he's all about putting on the world's highest World Series of Poker in a few weeks.  

He also pulls out another contraption -- an Oximeter, which measures oxygenation and pulse rate.  It's truly a hit as one after another puts it onto our fingers to see how much oxygenation is going on in each of us. Kathleen, an Australian nurse who has been trekking along with us is surprised to see all of the people who just arrived pulling in numbers like 72% oxygenation, 110 pulse and mentions that a 75% oxygenation rate in her hospital back home would result in a person being thrown on oxygen immediately.  Then does the test herself and comes in with a 71%.  By tomorrow, as we acclimatize, our oxygenation rates should be somewhere in the 90s. The human body is such an amazing machine.

With the exception of an acclimatization hike along an adjacent ridgeline, today’s a down day in the lovely urban metropolis of Dingboche, population 200. This town is above the tree line in a wide-open area of the juniper scrubbed Imja Khola river valley, in the shadow of Lhotse, due north of us. There’s an Internet Café here, advertised as the world’s highest and a scattering of hotels are here, too. As with everything, costs have gone up as we continue to trek further and further from civilization. Recharging a laptop battery costs you 250 rupee here, vice 100 Rupee in Thyangboche. Sodas, candy, etc. all understandably increase in cost. Sending two emails, I learned, costs you 500 rupee — just short of $10.

Yesterday after we rolled in, both Francisco and I had raging headaches that we worked through by hyper-saturating with water. It took me about four hours to get over mine; Francisco had his a little longer but was the savior that volunteered up Tylenol that finally kicked it for us. I credit my headache to the speed hike to the monastery yesterday — a dumb move in retrospect. Given that my last name isn’t “Sherpa,” I deserved what I got.

It was also yesterday at the height of our headaches that Joe volunteered up something called a “Hypoxemeter”— you wear this contraption while working at home, etc. and it can simulate up to 29,000 feet or so. Joe had been wearing this thing for weeks leading up to the trip and feels great! Francisco and I feel like a truck ran over our head yesterday. Thanks for keeping that a secret, Joe. We love you anyway.

Francisco and I hydrated like crazy and finally pushed through mid-afternoon. You could tell when we were doing better because we sat there like lumps until the headache broke, and then -poof — chatty. True to form, Francisco found four great trekkers to talk with: Anna and Xavi from Catalan, Federico and Luisa from north of Lake Como. They are staying in our hotel and are headed along the same schedule to Everest Base Camp. They left this morning for Lobuche, so we’ll see them again tomorrow.

Spending the rest of the day lazing around and preparing for tomorrow, the weather turned quickly, which seems to be a trend. This morning we didn’t even have a breath of wind. By noon, clouds had formed in the upper reaches of the hills — specifically Lhotse, which is right in front of us. At 4:00 PM, snow was falling and the temp dropped like a rock. Then by 8:00 PM, the wind had died off and it was fairly pleasant, although still cold.

On our acclimatization hike, we ascended up to around 4,800 meters, or 15,700 feet. This to prepare our bodies for higher climes as we go. All along the ridge there are mini Stupas and cairns to mark our path, which made for a nice measuring stick as we went.

Starting to wind our way higher into the Himalaya, we woke this morning to cloudless skies.  Our team set out ahead of the massive numbers of IMG (International Mountain Guides) clients that were sharing our hotel last night.  After a few minutes, we came to a stop in order to visit a local Buddhist nun.  Lhakpa explained that for the last 20 years she had been living in what can only be described as a Spartan shed -- one bedroom, one story, made of wood and stone.  Unheated, half open to the elements.  She looked completely cheerful, despite also looking sun weary and leathered over. She asked Lhakpa where he was climbing, and after he told her she brought out the special blessings -- she tied a special red string around our necks, gave us an apple, and then a mint throat lozenge.  She also gave us three orange colored balls that were powdered and about the same size as a BB gun pellet.  "You eat it," Lhakpa said.  Ok, bottoms up.  They were sour, tangy and indescribable in overall taste.  They were for good luck, so I ate 'em.  But I'm not pulling them out as party snacks any time soon.

After about an hour, Everest came into full view -- complete with massive winds raging off the summit.  Joe commented that we still have close to two months until we are going for the top, which is good given that today we were seriously feeling the altitude.  Francisco said at one point "Yee! And I'm having trouble at 4,000 meters!"

It continued to turn into another lung buster -- Lhakpa wanted to go see another Lama en route, and at one point he said "let's go" -- branching off the main trail onto one that was noticeably more steep and putting it into high gear.  Joe and Francisco wisely declined, but curiosity got the better of me in what would become a been-there-done-that experience.  Why can't the Lama live on the trail?  Oh man, here we go.  By the time we reached the Lama's monastery, we had put on 600 feet in elevation, and I was a breathless, sweaty mess. We entered the monastery of the Lama and grounded our gear.  I met another guide -- Tim, from Canada.  Really nice, he was much more grounded than some other guides we have come across so far.  He has been guiding in the Himalaya since the early 90s and just came off Ama Dablam a few weeks ago.  He chuckled at how wiped I was but talked with us about some of his experiences, which are many.

After the ceremony, the four of us rejoined and continued on our way.  As we ascended higher, we basically said goodbye to trees -- this is the last of the ones we saw before vegetation eroded into scrub.  The remainder of the terrain is rock and wind-swept sand.  And man is it windy today.  

After a few hours, we topped 14,000 feet and started dialing in on Dingboche.  The trail wound down toward a river andthen shot straight back up the side of the opposite hill which was cold, dusty and windy.  Not exactly a morale booster, but we knew we were close.  Here's a picture showing how excited we were when we first saw that the trail didn't stop where we had hoped it would.






Finally arriving an hour later, we grounded gear and had a great lunch at our stop for the night -- the Snow Lion Lodge.  How awesome would it be if we really saw a Snow Lion? Our team has a rest day here tomorrow, although Joe is thinking of doing an acclimatization hike up to one of the stupas a few hundred feet above us.  He's a madman.

At 8:00 AM, Lhakpa, Joe, Francisco and I set out from Namche Bazaar for Thyangboche. Willie stayed back to fight off a slight cold he picked up thanks to Kathmandu pollution and to make sure that our permits are finalized.

Within five minutes of leaving Namche, I felt like a lung was going to pop out of my mouth — it was steep, and you truly felt the altitude — even after two days at elevation. So not a nice way to leave first thing this morning.

But the trail quickly leveled off and we meandered along, gaining close to 600 feet in elevation as the trail slowly wandered around and into the Dudh Kosi river valley. The word Dudh means milk in Nepali, and this river retains the silty white color from its glacial source as it carves its way down through the valley toward the sea.

Off to the right, we occasionally made out Ama Dablam and before the clouds moved in for good, pieces of Everest, Lhotse and Nuptse were visible in the distance rising to the sky. At one point I asked Lhakpa what he thought the first time he saw Everest — was he freaked? Was he excited? He told me that when he first saw Everest, he decided he wanted to climb it.

The day was a bit chillier than we had expected, and clouds came and went all through our trek. Topping out at 11,900 feet, the trail then dropped over 1,000 feet down to the river through Rhododendron forests, kalma moss, and pine tree clusters before we arrived at a small village called Phunky Tenga. “I want to bring you…to Phunky Tenga…” Wonder if we could make a song out of that. We stopped here for lunch and recharged before kicking it again and putting in another hour push up to 12,800 feet. We were all pretty happy with how strong we felt and even with another lung buster switchback leg to this tail we were cruising, iPods cranking.

Initially, the trail was packed with trekkers and climbers but that thinned out as we approached Thyangboche, but it truly was an international scene. At one point, I passed a group of five. I said hello and received back “Aloha,”“Bonjour,” Namaste,” “Hi,” and “Buenos Dias.” Today we met or bumped into climbers and trekkers from Iran, Russia, France, Germany, and the U.S. Most people speak English so it’s easy for us, but Francisco seems to be a curiosity for some reason. He’s from Guatemala, but everyone seems to think he’s from somewhere else. The Iranian guy spoke in Iranian to him, Nepalis think he’s Nepali, and there’s a wide array of guesswork as to what his nationality is. He’s really good-natured, and so it’s just as funny to him as it is to the rest of us.

We arrived at Thyangboche somewhere around 1:00 PM, and Francisco and I immediately went to check out the monastery. Too cool! Thyangboche is home to the region’s largest monastery, a destination for monks of all ages throughout the country to practice and study Buddhism. We met a monk who gave us a history lesson on the Buddhist Temple we had been able to gain entry to and told us that his desire is to be a lifelong monk there. His father is an “Ice Doctor” — one of the guys who goes into the Khumbu Icefall every year to fix lines and had just recently come through en route to Base Camp.

Then Lhakpa took us on an extremely special and unique visit to the Lama — essentially the head spiritual advisor for the Khumbu Valley who is responsible for that entire Temple complex. Seeing the Lama was a very important stop for Lhakpa, and he invited us to come along, which we knew was special. The four of us were then admitted to the Lama’s private quarters where we removed all hats and shoes. We offered donations to the Lama, who accepted them and blessed our trip. Lhakpa and the Lama seemed to be quite at ease with each other and as for Francisco, Joe and I, we were just happy to be included. The Lama asked us to bring a Tibetan flag to the summit — we laughed. I’m pretty sure he was serious.

We then descended 400 feet down to Deboche, deep in another forest of rhododendron and inside the Imja Khola river valley, a tributary to the Dudh Kosi. We’ll call it a day here and then set out again tomorrow. The team is strong, moving fast and no altitude issues. Keeping our fingers crossed it continues that way and that it warms up a little. Frikkin’ cold.

As a down day, the team woke late and spent the day relaxing. Francisco is haunting the Internet Cafe despite the 10 rupee per minute rate; Willie is sleeping; Joe and I just went shopping for more stuff. Joe mentioned in passing that it’s so amazing that despite dozens of shopping trips before leaving the states, there’s always something you have missed, and how convenient that just about anything you do need is available in Namche Bazaar. Except for a space heater.

There’s a constant hum of construction going on outside in the Bazaar area — more hotels going up, more stores opening for next season, more house improvements before the monsoons hit. Roosters crow, dogs bark, and kids play. This place is truly larger than I ever expected when imagining what Namche Bazaar was all about. I even had a hot shower this morning. Maybe I should have looked at images a little more recent than Hillary’s expedition in 1953.

I went back and forth on what to title this dispatch and had to settle on Supermen based on what I saw on the trail today.  Porters galore making the slow, hot, dusty trek from Phakding to Namche Bazaar with loads that easily clocked in at 80 to 90 pounds each -- this carried by a guy who probably weighs in at about the same weight.  Doc P, a Navy Corpsman and one of our Pacific Northwest climbing team members received the nickname "The Ant" thanks to his ability to carry uber-heavy loads with ease.  These porters here on the Everest Base Camp trail are easily all "Ants."  In order to put this into context, I took a picture this morning of my porter complete with his load getting a hand up from another porter:

As bad as I felt, I recognized pretty quickly that these superhumans consider this all to be in a day's work and do the trek to and from on a regular basis.  To them, sitting behind a desk staring at a computer screen for hours on end day in and day out makes as much sense to them as their job does to me. Given how quickly they scoot up the trail I'm guessing that at the end of the day, they are just as tired as I am after life in a cubicle, five teleconferences and fighting rush hour traffic.  Perspective, sometimes, is needed with things like this.  And yes, I'm still going to take more stuff out of my bag to carry myself before we leave Namche in a few days. Here's what these amazingly tough individuals look like from the trail as we moved higher and higher today, the trail winding along bright blue rivers and through deep green pine forests:


The trail to Namche involved quite a bit of effort.  It's well traveled, but still rocky and you have to watch your step regardless.  But the scenery along the way?  Breathtaking.  We left Phakding at roughly 7,800 feet this morning and pulled in at Namche Bazaar at 11,323 feet, or so my altimeter says. The trail meanders through woody groves, past little villages that have harnessed the power of a local stream to provide electricity to a cluster of houses, and on to suspension bridges, which dangle sometimes hundreds of feet above gorges, both inside and outside of the Sagarmatha National Park.



The entire way, smiling Nepali offer "Namaste" -- even the ones carrying heavy loads.  Everyone is just so happy, despite such a simple life.  In many ways, it makes me equally happy.  It's infectious.  The kids run alongside for a few seconds until some worried mother yells something in Nepali, and they scoot back into their respective yards.  Yaks -- or as I learned some hybrid as yaks can't survive this low, too hot for them -- are even polite as they work their way upward.  They can sense when you are pulling alongside and will considerately stop until you have passed before working upwards.  It's a hot, dusty day today pulling into Namche Bazaar, but well worth it.

The air is considerably thinner, I'm sweating like crazy, but fortunately Joe's wrong -- he has been on this trek twice now and offered up that our goal was higher than 13,000 feet.  I'm incredibly happy when I see he's wrong.  Willie works his now famous Jedi Mind Trick with the Nepali guards who ask us for our permit -- "Tuesday," he responds.  I don't even know what day it is -- Saturday?  Friday?  Wednesday?  I have no idea but Tuesday seems okay to these guys, and Willie again smoothes everything over for us.  We are in.  Then in another change from what I guess I had set as an expectation, it's absolutely nothing like what I had envisioned.  There's a literal community up here -- shops, stores, coffee houses, Internet Cafes, Laundromats.  You can even get a massage here.  Not that I'm complaining as I sit here typing this from my bed in a hotel room, which is complete with private shower and toilet (many are community here). Just that I wasn't expecting it.  We had a great apple strudel and coffee when we first pulled in as snow flurries blew by outside.  Oh, and apparently the Dalai Lama is popular here despite a consistent Maoist presence.  I just don't get that I guess.

So greetings from lovely Namche Bazaar.  Tomorrow is a rest day in order to build up acclimatization en route to Base Camp.  The team's doing great, in high spirits and everyone's extremely motivated.

Wake up call came at 4:20 this morning, and we were all downstairs at 5:00 AM with bags, checking out of the Yak & Yeti. The whole process from that point forward moved like a well-oiled machine: transfer to the airport in no time thanks to little traffic on the roads, Willie knowing all the right people to speed our way through the check-in line and ensure that all of our bags made it along with us. “Remember to take all of your batteries out of your carry-on luggage and check them through.” Five minutes later while being frisked and doing a bag check, I am asked “Do you have any batteries?” Willie has been through this so many times that he was even able to chat it up with the airport security as we prepare to board what appears to be the first flight of the day out of the Kathmandu Domestic Terminal. Tired and all with bloodshot eyes, we were truly excited to finally be on our way.

The little twin-engine Otter was jam-packed with climbers and trekkers to the point where we all felt like sardines. I laughed when I realized that we actually had a flight attendant to service the plane — it’s only like a 30-minute flight to Lukla. Seriously? She crawled over us as she moved to the back of the plane on her single pass through the cabin, offering a wicker plate of hard candy and cotton for our ears if so desired. Then the plane taxied onto the runway and seconds later leapt skyward, pointing toward a faint ridgeline looming over Kathmandu.

After a few minutes, peaks became visible, then entire mountains, and soon the pilots literally started to thread the needle by flying not above ridges and valleys, but in them. I looked out the cockpit window at one point and noticed another plane about a half mile in front of us that we were following. The way the plane banked left, then right, up, down, left and right again it almost appeared like we were dogfighting. Pretty cool for sure.

A few minutes later we were approaching Lukla and got our first view of Everest. The view was marred by the scratched up plexiglass windows and spinning propellers, but you can still make out the distinct profile. It was pretty exciting to see.

Lukla is a remote town and the trailhead to Everest Base Camp. Here, the plane literally lands uphill — there’s no margin for error and once the plane is on final approach we are committed, I learned thanks to Joe, who happens to be a pilot. I’m glad he saved this little gem of information for after we landed. As soon as we land, we get kicked off, our bags are thrown onto the tarmac, and before we even get the chance to step aside a waiting line of passengers is already boarding. The whole five minutes this occurs, props are still spinning, and the pilots are dialing in on their flight plan back to Kathmandu. The plane turns back around, points back downhill and then - poof - it’s gone.

Lukla is great — loaded with little guest houses, restaurants and “hotels.” We grabbed breakfast while our bags were being assigned to various porters for the trek to Base Camp.

I need to tell these two stories: at one point I walk outside to my bag to collect my batteries, trekking poles and knife. Some girl in her early twenties is hovering over it, so as I’m walking away I mention that I feel bad that she’s carrying the thing around, but at least it’s just to a waiting yak or something. “Oh, no — that girl is carrying your bag all the way up to our stopping point today.” What? I felt bad, so I ran back outside to take some more weight out of my trek bag and offer her the straps, telling her that she can use them as shoulder straps of sorts. “Oh, she doesn’t need those — she’ll use a burlap strap around her head”. Yeah. I thought I felt bad before. Hearing that? Now I truly know what feeling bad is all about. Then they started passing us on the trail like we were driving an electric car on the Autobahn. The crazy part is that it wasn’t even just my bag. The load consisted of my bag, another bag, some expedition equipment, water, and more.

The other story comes in a bit more comical. Before leaving Lukla I realize that my Camelbak has sprung a leak. GREAT. What perfect timing. What the heck am I going to do now I wonder? Twenty yards down the trail, I pass mini shoppette after mini shoppette. Some have daypacks and miscellaneous climbing gear. After passing the second store, I casually ask one of the owners in what I assumed was a long shot move if they have a Camelbak, pointing at my water hose. The owner points at a brand new Camelbak dangling on a chain at the front of his store “Like this?” You have got to be kidding me. Yep, like that. Total hook-up.

Over the next few hours we slowly and patiently wind our way higher, following a well-worn trail past bunk house after restaurant. Willie knows about half the owners on this leg of the trip, so I laugh as we enter one store after another where he knows legions of locals. It’s great, too — they are all amazingly friendly and kind, offering us sodas, prayer scarves and a place to sit and catch up. While not in one of these shops, we continue onward and pass over rickety wire bridges and around yaks that are meandering in front of their shepherds.

There are tons of trekkers too — from all parts of the world I’m guessing based on the languages I hear and clothes they are wearing. Since the intent of this leg of the trip is to build on acclimatization, we don’t push it too hard and are at our destination around noon and in time for a nap,some french fries with ketchup — this is a specific menu item. If I see it tomorrow I’ll take a picture of all the different french fry options in this part of the world.

A local band of Maoists swung through, flags a wavin’. But true to form, they all left us alone. Just hung a few flags here and there, then on their way to canvas the neighborhood. Just like Kathmandu, they are literally everywhere.

Tomorrow we depart early and will press on to Namche Bazaar.