Sent March 30, 2001
Diary of a Trekker IV
Very Close to Mt. Everest
February 2, 2001
It was frightening! This morning five other trekkers and I left the lodge in
the dark at four this morning. We walked at a quick pace in a line with our
headlights and flashlights lighting the way. It was minus ten degrees. We
left Lobuche, the warmest lodge on the trek, to get as close as possible to
the tallest mountain in the world. We wanted to get up and back before the
clouds came in. I knew it had snowed last night because my footprints were
the first to make their way to the toilet, at 1:00 AM this morning.
After leaving the lodge, we immediately crossed a wide stream stepping from
one rock to another. Each was covered with snow and ice. There was no way I
would get to Kalapathar, our goal across the valley from Mt. Everest, with a
wet shoe. I moved slowly and was soon at the end of our short line of
trekkers.
We headed into the darkness with Pemba Sherpa leading the way. He offered
his flashlight to Marci because hers had gone out. Were the batteries too
cold? My headlight went out also. My eyes could barely adjust. The freeze
was biting at my toes especially when I tripped over loose stones in the
path. The snow was just thick enough to refrigerate my running shoes
completely. I wore two pairs of old socks which had worn thin in the toes.
My finger were numb and stiff, stuffed into my fleece jacket pockets. I wore
a thin pair of fashionable gloves. My mother had loaned them to me a few
months ago.
I kept moving, sometimes lagging behind, sometimes on Tokeko's heels. She
was from Japan, maybe 22, traveling alone. She joined Marci, Rich, Pemba,
Dawa (one of our porters), and me that morning for help finding the trail.
Pemba and Dawa were ahead navigating in total darkness. Only two of six
lights were working. Colder grew our hands, toes, and noses. At one point
Marci's boots were off. We spent some minutes rubbing life back into her
feet. Then again we stopped. Her toes were as cold as the snow. Finally
the sun was beginning to brighten the sky which solved the visual problem.
However the temperature remained the same.
By now we were among large boulders making our way over tall hills and
valleys covered with rocks. This was the terminal moraine of the Kumbu
glacier which falls through the valley below Everest like a frozen river. We
walked along the blue, icy gray formation. The earth, rocks and gravel it
pushed around were more than all nations could move. The foundation of our
trail followed 300 foot waves of geological excavation. We headed up and
down, deeper into the valley toward Mt. Everest.
From the rocky slopes of Kalapathar, meaning Black Rock in Nepali, the best
southern views of Everest are found. Finally we were trekking up this steep
trail. We watched the sun behind us creeping all too slowly among the white
surrounding Himalayan peaks in the distance. We were, after all, in the
shadow of the world's tallest mountain. It seemed the sun would never reach
us.
We had left early to avoid the clouds, yet still they were swirling among the
peaks. We studied the thickest blackest cloud I have ever seen which sat
totally covering our main point of interest. The top of Everest was
completely obscured. We knew the sun had magical powers that might melt even
the most stubborn clouds. If only the sun would ever get there!
It was hard to imagine the storm that whirled atop Everest. Finally it
lifted, and a dark solid rock appeared. Not one flake of snow was left on
its surface. The storm had cleaned Everest completely. The dark black peak
stood in contrast among the other white snow covered ones making the name
Everest more believable. The triangular black rock looked proud. It was tota
lly exposed now.
We stood in its shadow, freezing. Our finger tips were numb as we snapped
the moment into photographic memory. Rich had brought a Michigan State Flag
and a shopping bag from the camping store, Bivouac. On the wall at the store
in Ann Arbor, you'll find the picture I took of Rich holding the shopping bag
with Everest looming in the background.
On the way back to Lobuche, I lagged behind again, this time to absorb the
scenery. Trekking along the glacier, up and down the tall rocky ridges was
the best moment of this trek for me. Finally we met the sun, and my toes and
fingers quickly returned to a normal temperature.
Next the clouds came in mysteriously lower than the trail. The sun reflected
light rays off every blowing snowflake. The frozen mist from the clouds
shimmered and glistened as it went into my lungs. The scene was like a fairy
tale. Majestic Himalayan peaks faded in and out of the background behind
thick and thin variations of fog, then clouds, then intense sun. As my b
reath caught the sparkles, I waited for a yeti to appear. I imagined him
lumbering toward me, offering me a furry hand. I felt welcome in his world.
Then as I rounded one of a million turns in the trail, eight of the largest
birds stood watching me near the trail. Each must have been bigger than a
wild turkey, wearing elegantly smooth brown and white feathers (cheer
pheasants maybe). They pecked around in the dirt and gravel, rocks and snow.
What could they possibly find there to eat at 17-18,000 feet? My presence
didn't seem to bother them so I sat on a rock and watched for a long while.
The Kumbu glacier moved at its own geological pace below me in silence.
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