The Top

Monday 10/31

I couldn't sleep last night. At dinner, we spoke about tomorrow plan of attack. Since we spent an extra day in Dole, we lost a day at the peak of our itinerary. Instead of being able to complete both Kalapatar and Everest Basecamp, we had to decide on one or the other. Basecamp, although it sounds more impressive, is no great shakes. There is no view of the mountain; and since it isn't Everest climbing season, there isn't more than a few crashed helicopters on site. On the other hand, Kalapatar is 500 ft above basecamp and has the best views of Everest and its surrounding peaks. The boys chose Kalapatar, but I was troubled that I had traveled this distance and would not be able to complete the goal that I had set for myself. I made up my mind that I would achieve the impossible task of completing both Basecamp and Kalapatar in one day.

Passan, the head guide, and I left camp around 7 am, heading for basecamp. No time for rests, we made it over the narrow sandy ridge, the blackened boulders, and the graveled glaciers to the warned, anti-climatic basecamp. As promised, nothing was there except for some empty oxygen tanks, 2 fallen helicopters, and giant glacial formations. After quickly taking a few pictures, Jam Jam! (Let's Go!) and we were off to the next destination. Passan said that he thought there was a short cut, even though he had never done it before. I trusted his advice and we climbed up and other the sandy ridge, instead of following our original path. But as we pulled ourselves to the top, another ridge fell before us. Then another. And then another. Before, my watched read that we were well ahead of schedule, but now, time seemed to pass faster and faster, and I feared that I wouldn't be able to reach the top of Kalatpatar 3, so that I would be down at camp before dark. I became bitter, and even had to teach Passan a new English word: cranky! You know, when a 3 year old child doesn't have a nap. Four ridges later, Passan and I landed halfway up Kalapatar: a short-cut as promised! With one step in front of the other, I managed to make it up to the top of Kalapatar (meaning black rock) at 18,700 ft. Utterly exhausted, I saw the prized view of Everest and it was all worth it!

Wednesday 11/2

Ahh. Going down is so much easier than going up. With just a little knee ache, from tiring basecamp/Kalapatar conquest, we arrived in Tengboche by 3. Home of the largest Tibetan Buddhist monastery, we sat in on prayer services in the beautifully painted temple. Monks chanted from their long and narrow scrolls, younger monks burned incense, and foreigners watched not really understanding but loving the experience just the same.

Thursday 11/3

We revisited Namche Bazzar on our way down. The Nepalese celebrated the Diwali festival: the sister and brother holiday. With dotted foreheads, people decorated their homes with marigold garlands, drank beer, and danced in the streets with family and friends. Busy taking pictures, Dad was even invited into a home for dancing and music. He came back to our camp for lunch, with a marigold lei, a painted forehead, and a beer!

Friday 11/4

After a bittersweet day of hiking, we arrived back in Lukla for a farewell dinner. We visited Porter's Progess, a volunteer organization that serves as an advocate for the poor Nepalese who work as packers for the tourist industry. They come from the poorest areas of the country, and are most often exploited for cheap labor, and carry as much as 100 pounds on their backs, up high peaks! I thought the hike was difficult with just a day pack! Some of them get frost bitten toes, trekking through snow fields, with only Ked-like shoes. Others break their necks, carrying heavy baskets that are braced over their foreheads. We all tried to be as generous as we could: Dad gave away his Asolo hiking boots, and we showered them with Pringles, candy, Mt. Everest Whiskey, balloons, socks, and extra big tips. Throughout the trip, we were always aware of their hard life: they slept in caves, while we were in tents. They ate Dal-Bat (rice and lentils), while we ate yak, vegetables, and fresh bread. We assumed that they were used to their lifestyle, and we were encouraged to forget their hardships and enjoy our trip. Now that the trip is practically over, we all wish that we had been more compassionate all along.

For the first of many banquets, we bought four bottles of the Mt. Everest whiskey! By the end of the night, I was winning in poker and David was singing his slurred rendition of "Let the Good Times Roll!" But, by morning.... David and I were doubled over with a Everest-sickness. I was sick throughout the night, but managed to contain myself on the airplane ride from Lukla to Katmandu. Luckily, Dad stole one of the Airplane Sickness Bags from the plane, because I needed it on the Runway Taxi! Finally, we drove back into civilization, full of toilet paper, cushioned breakfast chairs, paper-wrapped bar soap, hot showers, bottled water, buffet lines, and laundry service!