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Published: January 10th 2008
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Last night I had so many vivid dreams... In one, I showed up to work at BAP to see Primi. I was dressed in rags (a bit like osama bin laden) and felt dirty. Primi introduced me to a new person at the office, and I said, "Oh, I have just come back from trekking the himalayas," like that would be a good enough excuse to show up to work looking like Tom Hanks in Castaway.
Although lack of ability to sleep is supposed to be a common symptom at this altitude, sleeping has come quick and easy to me throughout the trip. My body seems to have found a rhythm. I am asleep before 9pm, and wake with the sun around 7am. Lucky for me, my stomach has found a rythm, and hasn't given me any problems since my last Le Tub cheesburger in Miami.
So, I easily wake in the morning, throw down some food, wrap my feet, and strap on my boots for another trek day; this time to Lobuche (just under 5000m= 16,100 feet).
The walk, rather a traverse, to Dughla (4,620m=15k ft) for lunch was through the same beautiful scenery I had viewed from
the eagle's nest atop Nangkar Tshang the day before. But this made it no less pleasant. The views from the level of mere mortals still stopped me in my tracks, causing me to shoot the camera towards all the peaks every couple of minutes.
We crossed a small bridge, which in the spring time is a raging river from the khumbu icefall, and headed up a hill to lunch. It was nice to step inside for a break, as the sun and the wind had been hitting us hard throughout the morning. Really, the last thing I was expecting to deal with in late december was the strong sun.
As I reflected on the day from my room in Lobuche, the sun stood out as the toughest obstacle. I remember taking off my fleece, only to use it as a babushka to cover my head from the rays. Also, the wind pushed dust into my nose all day. The combination made my afternoon a confusing one, as I was unsure whether my head ached from the sun, the wind, or the altitude.
That day, I also walked past the stone memorials made for those who lost their lives
on everest- a sure sign I was reaching the gates of fire. Specifically, I wanted to see the Scott Fisher memorial, but my guide did not know exactly where he could be found. Literally, the stone memorials set up were as vast as a flourishing cemetary. I wasn't sure how easy it would be to walk past each one and find who I was looking for. But the Scott Fisher memorial was BIG. I put a stone on the memorial and read the shiny plaque. There was silence, except for the wind whinning its way through the stones. Also, there was a presence. Though I'm not sure where it came from, I felt something strange, yet powerful, emanating from the memorial. Maybe it was Scott. Maybe it was the incredibly vast amount of people whose lives were memorialized around me. Maybe it was the even larger number of people who stopped through this area to pay their respect. Maybe I was feeling the portal from Macchu Picchu! Whatever it was, it was strong and peaceful.
AFter a short break at the hotel, Buddhi and I made our way in sandals to the top of a 'hill.' At this point,
I begin to doubt what can be considered a hill, as well as what is deemed a mountain. And it is all quite confusing. At this elevation, everything feels bigger than a hill. But in this location, I am surrounded by peaks that reach out to the jet stream, including nuptse, pumori, and everest-- those are definitely mountains. Also, I begin to question whether we can consider our walk in sandals a 'stroll,' since this walk is taking place 3.5 miles over miami beach.
Regardless, I reached an overlook with the khumbu glacier below, and the coming days trek-trail ahead. Indeed, as I looked out to the majestic Pumori (23,500ft), I need only look to the dirty hill by its toes to view the highest point of my trek, Kala Patar (which wikipedia puts at 18,500feet!). Buddhi pointed to the khumbu glacier, and traced a line out to Everest Base Camp. "That's it?" I wanted to go farther than that. "Let's get there first, then you tell me how much farther you want to go," Buddhi said as he laughed from his belly.
On that night, the stars alone were worth the entire trek. I can't imagine a
Pumo Ri and Me
There is a brown hill near the foot of Pumo Ri. That's Kala Patar. single star was hiding from sight. There were shooting stars, satelites whizzing by, and even the 'regular' stars and constelations (like orions belt) sparkled with a distinguished flare. Indeed, the closer I got to touching the moon, the more it felt like I was actually ON the moon. This would only be more true as I made my way towards Kala Patar.
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