Everest2 - Closing Thoughts & Thank You!

Heading up North Col in an acclimatisation climb (circ. 6800m)

Apologies for the late final entry - it has been a hectic few weeks but I have now finally had the opportunity to relax and put 'pen to paper' so to speak..!

Whilst I didn’t achieve my ultimate, most 'obvious' goal (other than returning in one piece!) I did push myself to the limit of my abilities and made a decision which, upon some critical reflection, was the right one even though it's not been been an easy one to articulate back at sea level... It's been a very character-building experience to reflect on a decision which, at altitude, was crystal clear - I wasn't 'comfortable' and 'something' (as vague as that may seem!) was telling me to turn around and 'call it a day'. 

The biggest and most important challenge is now determining 'what I have learned' from this... so that WHEN I go back (and yes, I am definitely going back!) I will have another positive and safe experience and make an even stronger bid for the summit of the worlds highest peak.... and continue to enjoy other alpine challenges around the world.

Risk vs Reward...
The allusive 8848m peak remains a tremendous challenge and one which certainly should not be taken lightly - this is something that I've always appreciated and is one of the reasons why I love the physical and mental challenges inherent to high-altitude mountaineering.

Base Camp 2011 - Happiest when on a mountain...

There are risks and the stakes are high - you know that going into a climb. The key is knowing how to manage and minimise these risks so that you return in one piece to tell the tale - whether that includes a much coveted summit photo or all digits in tact. The key is to recognise and understand the risks and assess whether the potential outcomes are worth the potential sacrifice. To me, the personal satisfaction and experience of reaching the summit is not an outcome worth risking my life for.
Managing risk means knowing your hardwear, having the appropriate processes and systems in place before and during the expedition, working as a team, appreciating the power of nature's forces, and, perhaps most importantly, being fully aware of your own personal abilities and fully understanding the degree of risk that you are willing to take.


Mountains are unpredictable. Despite the fact that the infrastructure, overall technology, communications and 'risk awareness' have improved significantly over the past few years, people still die on Everest and people will continue to take risks -- the statistics are a testament to that fact.  The debilitating effects of altitude, exhaustion, combined with extreme weather conditions, lack of food and water, problems with equipment, physical health and mental strength and stamina, and good old-fashioned “luck” are all factors which will continue serve to deter or contribute to ultimate success on the mountain.

What I've learned...
I've thought a lot about this question over the past few weeks.

On my 'Everest Journey' I found new sources of inspiration. I found new friends. I found old friends again. I found that I can take time for myself and time for my family / friends and time for work. I found that I've come to better understand and know my limits and manage risks.  I found that just by trying that I can have an impact on other people. I found that life with goals is fulfilling and inspiring.

Like the 8848m summit, I have learned that sometimes even the most tremendous challenges are possible and achievable when broken down into smaller, individual goals.

I have learned to be flexible – where one door closes, another opens.

I have learned to have patience – to take people for who they are. 

And I have learned to remember to LAUGH. Life is incredibly short and it’s so easy to become far too serious and get caught up in the ‘daily grind’. While I am certain these past 2.5 months has accelerated the grey-hair and wrinkles process, I feel content (and proud) knowing that many of these are laugh-lines, attained in the shadow of Mount Everest..!

This quote from Theodore Roosevelt best sums it up....:

"It is not the critic who counts: not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly, who errs and comes up short again and again, because there is no effort without error or shortcoming, but who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, who spends himself for a worthy cause; who, at the best, knows, in the end, the triumph of high achievement, and who, at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who knew neither victory nor defeat.

Whilst taking 2.5 months out of my life to live in a tent in freezing cold temperatures and eating my body-weight in SPAM is a bit of an extreme way to realise these lessons, they are lessons which I hope will keep with me and continue to learn from for the rest of my life.

Summit or no summit, the mountain will always be there as will memories to last a lifetime.

THANK YOU
On that note, I'd like to thank my family and friends for their continued support - in particular my sister Melanie and good friend and Everest summiteer Pete Sunnucks (I will get there!!) for keeping my blog up to date so tediously!

To Sevenoaks School, Ridgetown District High School, and Future Hope School -- a huge Thank You for your many messages, emails and for your continued support and for joining me on this journey. Thanks so much for being such great company along the way.

Thank you to my employer, PricewaterhouseCoopers (PwC Consulting) and my colleagues for your support - you have been absolutely fantastic for putting up with me and I promise to wait a few more days before asking for more time off... ;-)

Thank you and a huge congratulations to our team and my guides Zac Poulton and Chris Szymiec - you guys are amazing and I feel as though I've inherited a few more brothers to add to the collection from last year...! In particular I'd like to extend my special congratulations to my teammates from last year who joined me this year -- all of whom were successful! Andrew Robertson (Climbing Partner in Crime!); Geordie 'Seven Summits' Stewart; Stephen 'The Celebrity Artist' Green; and Mark 'The Dark Horse' who always had some entertaining stories to keep us on our toes...


Thank you to the Hood - those freezing evenings on the Thames in the Sisterhood Dragon Boat followed by Monday Pub were exactly what I needed. Thank you so much for keeping me motivated!

Finally, last but not least, thank you also to my sponsors Chucs Dive & Mountain Shop; The Altitude Centre; Maximuscle; Planet Dacha  and BodyWorksWest - your support has made this journey possible and I'm most grateful for your advice, camaraderie and involvement. 

Fashionista at 7400m.

CBC.ca | The Bridge | Heather Geluk's second attempt at climbing Mount Everest is over.

CBC.ca | The Bridge | Heather Geluk's second attempt at climbing Mount Everest is over.

Everest2: Thank you from Ridgetown District High School

Just a quick email to say we here at RDHS are very happy you are safe and sound and I am looking forward to a detailed account of your adventure. 

Safe and Well

Dear Friends and Supporters,

Heather is now safe and well back at Advanced Base Camp after what can only be described as making a very very difficult decision of turning around and abandoning her attempt somewhere by Camp 2. I'm yet to find out more information, but the reports from the Adventure Peaks website is that she is now helping with radio communications at ABC for the teams summit attempt tonight.

The Final Push!

All,

I'm pleased to confirm Heathers final big push is well under way! She's departed Advanced Base Camp today to start the long arduous climb to reach the top of the world... If all goes to plan she will summit on the 26th of May.

Base Camp - Acclimatisation Profiles - Special Thanks to the Altitude Centre!

The team has been enjoying the comforts of the Hilton that is our 5200m Base Camp for about 10 days now ‘recovering’ (eating everything in sight and sleeping 10 hours/day) from our last move to 7500m (above the North Col). Everyone is in good spirits - ready and waiting for the allusive weather window. Besides the usual ‘hot topics’ at lunch and dinner - weather windows, rope-fixing dates, and what exciting condiment will eaten at dinner today- a recent new ‘element of complexity’ has resurfaced entering an old, all-too-familiar bit of vocabulary back into our conversations - acclimatisation.

Base Camp - CHUCS and Mount Everest

Two of my most prized pieces of ‘mountain attire’ at Base Camp (where striking the delicate balance between mountain fashion and function is clearly a priority!) are my 
(1) ultra light down jacket and 
(2) Chucs sun cap. 
Having said that, fashion is relative… If I walked into the Base Camp mess tent in an Alexander McQueen gown and my high altitude boots I’m fairly sure that the boys would ask why I was wearing high altitude boots at Base Camp…. 

Base Camp - Weather Window Update & Special Thanks

The massive white plume of spindrift blowing from the summit provides every indication that the allusive weather window is still a way off. The wind is ripping into the North East Ridge of Everest as I type. We are still the only team left at Base Camp as the other teams moved up to Advanced Base Camp over a week ago to chase a rumoured weather window. We heard the news today that the Chinese Tibetan Mountaineering Authority (CTMA) rope fixers would leave to start fixing the ropes between 8300m and 8848m on the 18^th of May. 

Things We Won’t Miss about climbing Everest (initial list)

1. Getting dressed on your knees in a tent.....

Base camp - The Waiting Game

Waiting for the weather window feels a lot like Groundhog Day. The weather is generally the same every day (blue sky, sunny), we eat meals daily and regularly at 8:30, 12:30 and 6:30 every day, and conversations generally revolve around the summit window, or summit day generally or the ever popular weather forecast. Somehow these conversations always degenerate into one or another toilet joke or a ‘silent but deadly‘ fart by a member of the team where the next 20-minutes are spent arguing over ‘who-dunnit’.

Base Camp - Salted Plums and the Condiment Challenge

Spare yourself no illusions that we are heroically trudging knee-deep through a steep snowy slope in the Death Zone of Everest, clinging onto our jumars with clenched teeth, breathing each breath as if it were our last… Oh no. Rather, the greater proportion of us are laying in our tents, completely bored out of our rapidly shrinking hypoxic brains for the 5^th day in a row.

The days have started to run together and the ‘time warp’ that we are currently stuck in has begun to affect our mental capacities. Last night we hit a worrying climax at dinner when the ‘Condiments Challenge’ took an interesting twist.

Base Camp - Birthday Celebrations!

I’m fairly sure that I won’t be starting too many birthday celebrations bathing in a ¼ full potato pan in the vestibule of my Hilton of Base Camp tent…but regardless, a wonderful way to start my 35^th birthday. The first proper wash in quite sometime, with an end result that would definitely be a contender for a ‘Head and Shoulders’ commercial (not Herbal Essences as I‘m sure that would alarm the boys!!). My usual clothes smelling ritual (eg. Going through my kit bag to see what smells the least) was also avoided as I decided to treat myself with a clean(ish)wardrobe and a fresh coat of lip gloss before heading to breakfast.

Everest Base Camp - Partying Russian Style

Last night we went to a party. Not just any party. An Everest Base Camp Party. Russian style.

Drama at the North Col

“North Col calling ABC over; North Col calling ABC…” the radio in the mess tent about 10 feet away from my tent at ABC crackled to life. I checked my watch - 6:45am. Crap. An unscheduled call that early in the morning meant problems. Looking up at he dark shadows on the roof of my tent I suspected that the evenings heavy snowfall and accompanying winds had something to do with it..!

North Col - What the brochure doesn’t tell you

I woke up with the condensation from the inside of the tent dripping on my head. Confused, I checked my watch - 6:00am - and tried to get my bearings. I was inside a tent. In spite of what felt like Chinese water torture, I was warm and relatively comfortable even though my thermarest had slid from under me during the night and now formed what looked like a bright yellow version of the Great Wall of China between my still comatose tent mate Chris and myself. 

North Col Acclimatisation Ascent

I smiled confidently at the dull thud of my crampon kicking into the well-packed snow and grunted in a rather un-ladylike way as I slid the jumar up yet another foot on the icy face of the North Col. The ultimate goal of today’s mission was to reach the top of the 500m ice face and spend 2 nights sleeping at the North Col. From there we were to make our way up to the 7500m ‘marker’ and then turn back to complete our final altitude push and preparation for the tremendous challenges ahead.

The rest of the group had already gone up the previous day but under the leadership of Chris, our guide, Nick, Jason, Stephen, Salam an I had decided to hang back at ABC an extra day to give those suffering from various tummy bug’s and coughs some additional time to recover. Unfortunately not all of the coughs and tummy bugs subsided, so on that morning, Chris, Nick and myself made up an intrepid group of three, braving the elements and, with each heavy, plodding step, further committed ourselves to the adventure ahead.

The journey up the steep, icy face of the North Col, begins with a 1 hour ‘walk’ over some rocky moraine from ABC to ‘Crampon Corner’- a ‘meeting point’ where climbers collect and deposit their crampons, harnesses and gear in big blue barrels strategically positioned at the outer perimeter of the Rombok glacier. Inevitably your crampons and harness - or anything that you urgently need - will ALWAYS be at the bottom of the barrel and will ultimately add an additional 20 minutes of ‘prolonging the inevitable‘ (otherwise known as faffing) - something that I have managed to get quite good at.

One can easily get to Crampon Corner wearing hiking boots but crampons are necessary in order to make the crossing from Crampon Corner over the cravasse packed Rombok Glacier to the headwall of the North Col. Navigating the icy glacier takes about 25 minutes, leaving you to stare up at the giant wall of ice, the obstacle for the next 4 hours, with a sense of both awe and dread. Normally, the entire ‘journey’ up to the headwall of the North Col is fairly uneventful, the biggest challenge involving jumping a few gaping blue crevasses and figuring out how to use the ‘self timer’ on a camera to get in a few token photos...

On this particular day however an additional level of complexity was provided by the blistering heat from the sun and radiation from the snow. It was absolutely sweltering and a bikini would not have gone amiss (apart from the obvious cultural ramifications!!). As I walked from Crampon Corner to the headwall I felt as if I was a ‘boil in the bag’ meal in my uber -girly pink gore-tex jacket and it felt as if the energy was being sucked out of my body by the heat with every step. Had we been planning a day at the beach or a day of tanning the conditions would have been perfect… (given my sunburn track record this option was quickly scrapped!!!). As I had already learned the hard way, the sun provided additional threats and challenges - sunburn, heatstroke, dehydration, radiation off of the ice and snow, snow-blindness and it also served to add an additional element of physical exhaustion to what was already a challenging climb.

With a ‘chilled out’ Canadian outlook, Chris and I ambled our way at a leisurely, relaxed pace up the North Col. It was a fantastic and thoroughly enjoyable ascent (I NEVER thought I’d say that!!) because (1) the ropes were incredibly quiet (we could have been anywhere!); (2) in spite of the heat the weather was fantastic; (3) because the snow was packed down it was easier to find purchase and move along the ropes and finally; (4) it was nice to take things slow and steady enjoying a long lunch (and a Baby Bell cheese!) whilst clipped to an anchor to break up the day. The gaping blue cravasses didn’t even phase me!

I was feeling strong well into the initial 3.5 hours of the journey - step, step, breathe, slide jumar up; step, step breathe, slide jumar up….. Every few metres I’d look around, smile and sigh happily and take in my surroundings - a brilliant blue sky, my fantastic team mates below, the giant wall of ice and snow with Everest looming ominously to my left. It was an awe-inspiring yet daunting sight.

That feeling of strength eventually began to dwindle. Heading into the final section of the climb I began to count down the steps and breaths to the comfort of my tent. Unfortunately we (I) had one major obstacle to contend with… a double aluminum ladder angled at 45 degrees and straddling a giant blue crevasse that would easily transport one on a rapid journey to the centre of the earth. Chris assured me that it would take me directly to Canada which was fortunate since I was craving a donut and a Tim Hortons coffee. I managed to ‘clip into’ the rickety ladder and make it across without any dramas. I did my best to ignore the fact that the only thing that was stopping me from a complimentary journey to the centre of the earth was a 3mm ice ledge, some 6mm cord and some high altitude, hypoxia induced Chinese engineering…. After crossing the ladder I nearly turned to ‘High 5’ Chris but then realised that it was neither the time nor the place…. Plus, I needed to maintain an image of mountaineering prowess in spite of the sweat, white knuckles and carabiners clipped into anything and everything in sight.

I won’t go into detail about the final 5 minutes of the ascent to 7000m except to say that when I finally saw the North Col camp I was soooo relieved. An oasis of orange in a sea of white. I was so tired that it seemed to take every ounce of will-power to put one foot in front of the other and I managed to muster about two steps at a time. Of course, in true form, as soon as I saw Zac and the rest of the team sitting relaxed and bronzed around their tents I was all smiles and all sense of exhaustion was quickly forgotten.

That night, reflecting on the experiences I’ve now had on the North Col I composed the following letter while Chris attempted to prove ‘best-tent-mate-in-the-world-status’ boiled the water for our boil-in-a-bag extravaganza…..

Dear Everest NE Ridge Tourism Authority,

Pursuant to last years correspondence, please accept this letter as my proposal for some significant developments for the commercialisation of the NE Ridge of Everest. I hereby whole-heartedly support the building of a high-speed escalator from Base Camp to ABC. I hereby also support the installation of a tow-rope from ABC to the headwall of the North Col (with snack bar selling sausages and waffles at Crampon Corner as well as crampon fitting service and massage bar). Please also consider this recommendation to build a heated gondola from the headwall up to the top of the North Col where an Everest themed bar with some lively, up-beat music would not go amiss. A zip-line can be installed for those with a stronger constitution. I would be happy to recommend some experienced Canadian commercial operators (look to the resorts in Western Canada as evidence of our engineering prowess) who would be delighted to help you with this project. Please do not hesitate to contact me with any questions or concerns. Thank you in advance for your consideration.

Kind regards,

Heather

Picture: North Col Camp

ABC

I’m about 120% positive that my least favorite part of the trip up to ABC is the section of the Moraine Superhighway after Interim camp. Interim Camp is situated at the top of a steep section of moraine which then falls away into a serac-filled jungle and a fast flowing stream and then a steep uphill climb onto a long, undulating lateral moraine which lies adjacent to Everest. These are the first three obstacles that one faces first thing in the morning after leaving camp (all that without the benefit of a Starbucks latte!!).

I’m generally a positive person, but I can’t bear the walk between IC and ABC – it drags on and on and on and on and on and on and on…. By about 11am I was so bored bumbling along the scree that I begin to video-tape my feet walking ’fast’ and then ’walking slow’ (note: there is no difference!!)… and the a few hours later decided to start writing messages in the snow with my trekking pole for Chris, Stephen and Salam (who were coming up from BC). These included – “Canada Rocks” as well as “Go Team Scotland!” and “Yaaa Bangladesh!”. I nearly killed myself falling into a snow-covered crevasse writing, “Almost There!” accompanied by a giant smiley face….

Geordie provided some entertainment at noon during the regular radio call. It’s difficult to learn to resist the temptation when utterly bored and starved of conversation to engage in an irrelevant full-fledged conversation on a radio that is to be use for check-ins only!

I was incredibly relieved when at 2:30pm one of the Sherpas from ABC came down to meet me with a drink of hot tea and some moral support. Then the final painfully frustrating hour passed when you constantly think you’re close to camp or you think, “it’s just over the next moraine” only to be disappointed time and time again by a frustratingly endless series of hills and fruitless climbs. I was incredibly relieved to see ABC and dive into the comfort of the warm and entertaining mess tent where I could unleash my frustrations about the giant toilet that is Interim Camp and attempt to rehydrate. 5 minutes later after a bowl of noodle soup, all was forgotten and I could smile and laugh once again. It was now time to prepare for the new challenges ahead! North Col ascent in 2 days!

Interim Camp – Yak Rodeo

I threw down my ‘North Face Blue Kazoo” sleeping bag and gagged. The absolutely overwhelming smell of yak dung and the fresh steam yak ‘welcome gift’ in my vestibule made me seriously question whether splitting the 21km walk up to ABC from BC on the Moraine Superhighway had been a wise move. To be honest, I’m used to at least a mint on my pillow….! Don’t get me wrong – I think yaks are great – big, beautiful, docile creatures without which the journey up to Advanced Base Camp would be significantly more difficult. I just haven’t particularly ‘warmed’ to their potpourri…

Back up to the North Col - The Graft Begins

It’s been a busy two days at Everest Base Camp and laying here in my tent eating chocolate covered raisins stolen from the luxury barrel (sorry boys!!) I contemplate the challenges ahead. Tomorrow we head back up the 21km Moraine Superhighway to ABC and will then spend 3 nights on the North Col. During one of the days we will make the grueling climb up to 7500m as part of the acclimatisation process.

For many reasons I’m trying to refrain from comparing ‘this year’ to ‘last year’ but I want to highlight the absolutely fantastic work done by our guides, Zac Poulton and Chris Szymiec. With their ‘Nothing New on Summit Day’ approach I feel prepared for the many challenges ahead. Everest is a tough and unpredictable mountain and both Zac and Chris have done what they can to enable us to control what we can and make informed decisions about the things that we can‘t.

Yesterday we had an intensive 2 hours of ‘oxygen and mask’ training where we were ‘refreshed’ on the basic principles of using oxygen systems at altitude. We were then tested on the application of this refresher by fitting cylinders to masks and discussing common and avoidable problems with the systems. Basic stuff but absolutely critical and can ultimately make or break a summit attempt -- and even go so far as to save your life. Last night we were then all hauled out of the warmth of our tents and into the cold wearing our masks and head torches to walk up the ‘Frozen River’ just outside of Camp to simulate the feeling of claustrophobia experienced during Summit Night in the walk up from 8300m.

It will be good to set out again for ABC tomorrow and complete the final stage of the acclimatisation process. When I think of all of the challenges and unknowns in the week ahead I can’t help but feel overwhelmed but know that no matter what happens it will be an adventure and an integral part of the experience of a lifetime.

Base Camp Hilton

Exhausted, weak, dehydrated (and still sunburnt!!) I stumbled down the final section of the Moraine Superhighway. A hazy yellow-gold mirage appeared before me amidst the dull grey scree and moraine. I rubbed my eyes with my snot covered Patagonia mittens. Base Camp. Could it be? Was it a mirage? The spring in my step caused me to stumble face first into the scree, narrowly avoiding a pile of rancid yak dung. It had been a long 21km walk down from ABC and my body was still recovering from yesterday’s ascent /descent of the North Col.

Hobbling with the aid of my trekking pole, I stumbled to my golden haven. My tent. My palace. My home. With my knees placed securely on my ‘Welcome Mat’, I unzipped the fly to the two-man tent (for one) and was immediately greeted by a warm, clean glow of loveliness. Thanks to the Dollarama-Shopping Extravaganza in Zheng Mu several weeks ago, my tent was a breath of fresh air. Martha Stewart eat your heart out…

To the far right of my tent is a small single mattress with my sleeping bag, the comforter and duvet cover purchased in Zheng Mu (bargain and serious style points!!!). The duvet cover is (still) white, lime green, aquamarine blue and turquoise striped. A huge rice filled lime-green ‘accent pillow’ (a mans worst nightmare) rests stylishly on the head of the ‘bed’. Next to the bed is the stool also purchased in Zheng Mu. Covered by a lilac handkerchief, it serves as my bedside table upon which rests a collection of books, cough candies, vitamin C tablets and my iPod.

Directly behind my bed is the conservatory, accessed via a zippered ‘bay window’, which offers one of the most incredible views in the world (no, neither Jason nor Ben’s tents!!) Looking out of the ‘window’ you can’t help but not sit mesmerised by Everest, standing solitary and grand with its snow white cap and plume of spindrift against the clear blue sky. It’s no wonder that the mountain is still considered sacred.

On the floor of my tent, a slick silver strip down the centre, is a roll-mat purchased in Kathmandu. I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to have the dull blue boring side up rather than the flashy metallic silver side but I figured that the tent color scheme could handle it.

To the far right of my tent (about 2 feet from my bed) is my giant red closet… better known as my ‘kit bag’, filled with all the fashion essentials needed for the Base Camp cat walk. Plus batteries, a box of Kraft Dinner, my Maximuscle energy gels, and protein bars. At first glance one would think that the kit bag / closet would clash disastrously with the lime-green accents found throughout the tent however the color scheme works remarkably well and the red adds some ‘pizazz’ to the entire ‘tent’ suite.

The ‘piece de resistance’ in the tent is the light-and-airy feel achieved through the creation on the ceiling. I’ve taken 4 prayer scarves received from various llamas and guest house owners along the journey and have hung them from the centre of the tent out to its corners, like the inside of a circus marquee. Delicate, cream-colored giant white sashes contrasting against the golden ceiling of the tent and also doubling as a useful ‘hammock’ to cameras, sunglasses and head torches, easily accessed while laying in bed.

To ensure that the oasis stays smelling fresh and clean I regularly roll my ‘Issy Miake’ industrial sized deodorant stick along the canvas walls so that the tent is filled with the fresh and clean smell of spring (rather than stinky trekking boots and clothes that haven’t been washed in over a month) as soon as the sun hits the tent in the morning. It’s nearly as good as waking up to the smell of fresh coffee…. Or fresh bread…. (but not quite).

I can’t complain about the neighbours either. Dubbed the ‘Chelsea of Base Camp’ my tent real estate will only sky rocket in value with considerate neighbours such as Jason and Ben who have since come to me for interior-design advice and to exchange recipes… (ok, perhaps that is a slight exaggeration). Either way, my golden oasis of warmth in the heart of Everest Base Camp is definitely my home away from home and I can’t imagine anywhere I’d rather be.

It almost sounds civilised. If only we could do something about this mountain climbing malarkey….

North Col Day

Armed with my ‘Big Girl Boots” trekking poles, several layers of down, and the most positive attitude that I could muster up under the freezing cold windy conditions, I began my 1 hour ‘slog’ to “Crampon Corner” and then onto the headwall of Everest North Col. It was precisely 8am and whilst I felt I was moving well I was definitely missing my Starbucks vanilla latte and read of the morning papers to help get me in ‘the zone’.

I’d spent a rather restless night worrying about the ascent. To say that I was nervous was an understatement. I’d been in this position before -- I’d already climbed the North Col - twice last year… - but still I needed to take the time to put that sense of the ‘unknown’ and ‘uncontrollable’ into perspective. A climber was tragically killed in a serac collapse last year on what was a seemingly ‘routine’ day out on Everest. His tragic death was a stark reminder never to underestimate the power of Mother Nature and the sheer risk and unpredictability involved in high altitude mountaineering (or any mountaineering for that matter!). If you’re unwilling to accept or face that element of risk or unpredictability you’re climbing the wrong mountain.

Bohlle, the Camp Manager kindly assigned a Sherpa, Norbu, to accompany me up the North Col. This made me feel significantly better knowing that I was not going to head up on my own. Norbu and I left ABC up the moraine to Crampon Corner. Crampon Corner is a ‘landmark’ on the NE Ridge route where climbers ‘gear up’ and ‘gear down’ picking up or dropping off their harnesses, crampons etc. enroute to the ‘headwall’ or the start of the North Col.

Sitting at Crampon Corner geared up and baking in the blazing sunshine (Yes I was wearing SPF 50 and not a cm of skin was showing!!!) I sucked on a frozen chocolate “Maximuscle’ energy bar and weighed my options. This was made easier by the fact that I really didn’t have many options to weigh. It was a simple case of get the hell up the Col, get the hell down and get the hell back to ABC so that this 7000m milestone could be checked off the list.

I looked up at the headwall of the Col. It’s 400m blue-ice face glistened menacingly in the sunlight as ice crystals bounced off its surface. A steady stream of people could be seen making their way up and down the wall. I clipped onto the white rope and thought, “Let’s get this done and over with’ and pushed the jumar upwards as I felt my crampons bite into the thick blue ice and snow. For the next 20 minutes, although it seemed like an eternity, I managed to find a rhythm of: three small steps, an arms length slide of the jumar up and then a three second rest.

Step right, two, three, four; Step left, two, three, four. Rest, two three, four… (Admittedly I was quite liberal on the three second breaths which regularly stretched anywhere from five to ten seconds in duration.)

Every ten metres or so there was an anchor where I would clip into a new rope and tie off the old one to continue onto a new section of the climb. Norbu stayed with me for the ascent, quietly encouraging me and also acting as support during some particularly tricky sections where the traffic flow on the up and down ropes seem to resemble a New York city traffic jam. Looking back, I don’t remember much of the 3-hour ascent apart from focusing steadily on the various ‘landmarks’ that had been flagged in conversation by the team which had gone up before me - the first crevasse, the second crevasse, the ice serac that collapsed last year… Each of these frozen landmarks passed but I didn’t even have the energy to feel a sense of achievement.

When we reached the final ladder crossing a 4-foot wide crevasse marking the top of the North Col I felt an absolute sense of relief and achievement. I looked up at Norbu who sat next to my splayed body eating his packed lunch and whistling a tune as if he had just climbed Primrose Hill / Ridgetown Hill. It felt fantastic to reach the top - 7000m mark, a point that I’d struggled to reach a year ago. With the sun beating down on our heads Norbu and I shared a ‘Bounty Bar’ to celebrate our successes before beginning our descent.

A fundamental difference between cycling and climbing is that with cycling you always have the thrill of a downhill to look forward to after a gruelling uphill. The wind in your hair, the feeling of sheer weightlessness… Unfortunately this is not the case with high-altitude climbing where going down is often more treacherous than going up. Every time I watched as the rope slid through my abseil device as I slid down the sheer ice face, carefully moving from one section to the next I could feel my lungs aching for breath and my feet longing for the stability of solid ground. When my feet finally hit solid ground and I could unclip from the fixed lines, I was incredibly relieved and managed a high-five with Norbu..

The descent took 1.5 hours and as I looked up at Everest in its 3 o’clock shadow I had a newfound respect for the mountain. Needless to say, sleep came relatively easily that night..!

Top Picture: North Col. Bottom Picture: North Col Headwall.

An Hour of Irresponsibility

I’m hesitant to write this blog entry because it epitomises the definition of stupidity and I am truly embarrassed to include this incident however will do so in the hope that others may learn from my utterly stupid mistake (cue Mom shaking her head already)….

Advanced Base Camp

ABC sits on a rocky base of loose moraine just a few kilometres south of the Rombok glacier in a valley at about 6200m. At this altitude, it is the highest base camp in the world - roughly 300m higher than the summit of Mt. Kilimanjaro in Tanzania, the highest point on the African continent. At this altitude even taking 5 consecutive steps is a struggle so, although during those first glorious moments when ABC is first spotted it seems, at first sight, tantilizingly close, it is still about an hour of tricky moraine-navigation away. The highlight however is that a comfortable camp and a warm sleeping bag is at the end of it.

The Adventure Peaks camp is one of the first of the small village that is ‘Advanced Base Camp'. This means that it’s well protected from the howling freezing cold wind that sounds like a steam engine rushing off the glacier and down the valley.

There are two long blue mess tents that form the main ‘hub’ of ABC social activities and camp life. Whilst we don’t bask in the lap of luxury as we do at Base Camp, the tents are well heated with a soft ‘foam-like’ insulated floor, have a long communal table seating 15-people with plastic garden chairs in each. The tents are lit by several energy efficient light bulbs which storm into operation as soon as the temperamental generators are switched into action - usually when the sun goes down and the temperatures plummet to unbearable levels.

Our bright yellow two-man tents are scattered haphazardly from about 5 - 15 metres of the mess tents separated by some treacherous terrain. A quick trip from the mess tent to the sleeping tents easily leaves one breathless. There are 2-people per sleeping tent (a definite bonus from the warmth-perspective) and mattresses are supplied for extra comfort and to ensure a restful, blissful, 6200m nights sleep.

We have one bright green marquee-like toilet tent in the centre of camp. Reaching the toilet tent is an acclimatisation process in itself as both are on a small knoll of lose moraine. Planning to use the tent requires foresight (never go without toilet paper!) and a strong sense of balance to ensure that gravity doesn’t conspire against you and, most importantly, never look down, never breathe in, always bring toilet paper and never rely on the zipper to protect your sense of modesty.

Top Picture: Everest and Advanced Base Camp Position. Bottom Picture: Advanced Base Camp Layout.

The Moraine Superhighway

It felt good to be back on what I’d dubbed as “The Moraine Superhighway”, under the blazing sun and in the shadow of Mount Everest. Acclimatised to 6000m, kit bags packed and yaks loaded we were ready to go.

Our timing wasn’t quite impeccable as we set out from Base Camp at exactly the same time as a colourful train of about 40 heavily laden yaks carrying up fully stuffed kit bags, burlap bags bursting at the seams, tonnes of food, gallons of water, gas, generators, tents mattresses up to Advanced Base Camp (ABC). A colourful 21 kilometre congo line up to 6400m. The yaks are truly magnificent creatures - docile, strong and steady with their thick coats, giant horns and sure-footed steps along even the most challenging rocky terrain. The yak trains of 6-8 yaks per 'group’ are managed by 1 or 2 local Tibetan men with their dark hair tied up in braids, sporting oily old North Face jackets and the most basic of footwear - even to the point of flip flops. The Tibetans who follow the yaks’ steady pace and ensure they stay on the loosely defined path. Should they veer off the path they are whistled and shouted at causing the yaks to duly oblige.

I spent about 1.5 hours trailing behind the yaks hypnotised by their steady steps and the rhythmic sounds of ‘clanging’ of the giant bells around their trunk like necks. The weather was perfect and the scenery stunning.

The 21km trail from BC to ABC winds its way around beautiful turquoise glacial lakes, ice seracs that have stood frozen in time for thousands of years and along narrow rocky ridges that offer a stupendous view of the valley and Mount Everest itself. The moraine superhighway follows a trail carved out of the glacial valley. While the path is clear to follow it is made up of loose flat rock or ‘scree’ that shifts annoyingly and unsteadily underfoot. The valley is lined on either side by towering brown rocky cliffs that send down rock falls on a regular basis. Giant ice seracs are also found lining the trail as the altitude increases. If it wasn’t for the altitude, associated shortness of breath and overpowering stench of yak dung, the loose rocky scree with risk of 20 tonne bounders falling on your head in rock-fall it would really be an absolutely stunning walk...

About 9kms into the route to ABC is ’IC’ or ‘Interim Camp’. This camp is used as a ‘resting stop’ on the journey up to ABC if the 21km walk can’t be made in a day. Facilities at IC are pretty basic - a tent and basic facilities for the local cuisine - dahl baht - or rice with lentil soup and a sort of spicy vegetable ragu. Delicious. In spite of its very basic facilities, I like Interim Camp and am not sure if hiking from BC to ABC in one day would do me (or my sanity!) any favours.

The team is doing well -everyone is in good spirits and raring to go. Stomach bugs have cleared leaving the next physical challenge to be altitude. It felt great to get out and get going. With the first few steps I found my rhythm and up the moraine super highway I go.

Picture: Route up to ABC.

CBC.ca | The Bridge | We check in with Mt. Everest adventurer...Heather Geluk . She's now at the Base camp and the weather isn't good.

CBC.ca | The Bridge | We check in with Mt. Everest adventurer...Heather Geluk . She's now at the Base camp and the weather isn't good.

Challenge 7- Sacred Pilgrimage of Adventure

In this Challenge, students learn about the religious traditions of those living around Mount Everest, in particular the Puja Ceremony and the Tibetan Buddhist Monastery of Rongbuk, which was once the largest monastic centre in the region. For the Buddhist, Rongbuk is a sacred threshold to Mt. Everest and is set against one of the most dramatic views in the world. The Rongbuk Monastery was founded in 1902 in an area of meditation huts that had been in use by nuns and hermits for over 400 years.

Central to the Buddhist religion and forming an integral part of any Nepalese or Tibetan expedition is the ‘Puja Ceremony’, during which the Sherpas pay homage to the mountain deity. The ceremony is the starting point for all Everest expeditions. A local Llama (not to be confused with the animal!) travels from the Rongbuk monastery to conduct the ceremony, reading from a book of sacred prayers while sitting in front of a stone altar covered with offerings of cookies, chocolate bars, popcorn, rice and beer. During this ceremony all climbers and equipment are blessed before beginning the ascent of the mountain. Marking the end of the formal ceremony, ‘tsampa’ (a roasted barley flour) is thrown into the air and rubbed on the faces of fellow team-mates and everyone is given a silk scarf as a symbol of being blessed.

Fieldwork on behalf of students of Ridgetown District High School, Sevenoaks School and Future Hope School:

I knew something was up when Sonam, a quiet and humble Sherpa had an unmistakable glint of mischief in his eyes. The tiny Llama, dressed in a burgundy "Helly Hansen" branded jacket over a wine coloured 'robe' with grease stains along the hems began to chant louder in what appeared to be the climax of the puja as his yellowed fingers followed the Cyrillic liturgy on the prayer book in front of his knees. He sat cross legged in front of the stone "stupa" (a sort of stone alter) which was covered from top to bottom in offerings flour, cakes, precious oils, cut up Bounty bars, Mars bars, Snickers bars… as well as an assortment of beverages including Everest’s finest whiskey as a sacrifice to Chomolunga.

The Llama’s intonation increased to an even higher, louder decibel as he threw his arms in the air releasing handfuls of tsampa flour as clouds of yellow dust high into the sky. The Sherpas, fully prepared for the move, eagerly followed his lead. An arc of grey 'dust' flew through the air and for one brief moment seemed suspended in time - a halo of flour superimposed over the omnipresent plume of spindrift coming off Everest’s peak.

The Sherpas laughed at our surprise as the flour fell back down to earth and enveloped us in a giant cloud of dust-flour. It took about one milli-second for us to follow the Sherpas’ lead as we too thrust our handfuls of flour into the air - or rather, tactfully launched the handfuls of flour at a nearest possible victim. Screams of adrenaline could be heard around the camp as we chased each other around the stupa with the ultimate aim of covering the potential victim with the 'flour wipe' of good luck and good fortune.

There were about 45 of us who participated - the entire expedition team from all ranks and all walks of life - who participated in the puja. The ceremony lasted about 1.5 hours in total and ended formally with the flour throwing and informally with an afternoon of gorging ourselves on chocolate, beer and shots of whiskey as the snow began to fall. It was an extremely enjoyable and fun-filled yet richly symbolic morning. The end of the puja ceremony symbolised that we were officially allowed to begin our ascent of Everest and that the appropriate prayers, blessings and sacrifices had been made.

The whole expedition now seems even more 'real'. The 1.5 metre stone monument stands as a prime focal point in the middle of our 'tent city' giving the skyline a truly authentic look as 5-streams of prayer flags in the colors of red, green white, blue and yellow radiate from its core to various points in the Camp.

Before the Llama left to join the Sherpas for a last 'hurrah' and some of Everest finest brew in the Sherpa tent, we each received an individual blessing from the Llama, bending humbly on our knees as he placed a blessed silk scarf around our necks as well as a thin piece of red cord to be worn throughout the duration of the expedition. These symbols serve to protect us and lead us to a safe return after our individual summit attempts.

It felt "humbling" to be a part of something which is so clearly an integral part of the Sherpa tradition and Sherpa beliefs. There is a certain indescribable 'power' surrounding Everest that certainly puts into context the significance of such a ceremony. As I look out at the panorama from my tent - the stupa with its realms of multi-colored prayer flags flapping in the breeze against the clear blue sky and in the shadow of 'The Mother Goddess' herself, I can not help but feel part of her spell, her magic, her power.

Base Camp on Everest North

It was a fantastic feeling riding into Everest Base Camp today - a place I’d left only a short 10 months ago. It was as if I’d never left. Everest dominates the skyline - absolutely massive from Base Camp and there is no question about the fact that it is the highest mountain in the world. From its peak an imposing plume of spindrift can be seen trailing in the jet stream. The rock looks almost blue-grey against the clear-blue sky. The area set as the general ‘base camp’ for all teams attempting to climb Everest (first used by George Mallory in the 1920s) is carved into the landscape by the glacial activities thousands of years ago, leaving trails of scree and moraine in its wake.

A creature of habit, I quickly reclaimed my tent space from last year and was delighted to discover that the stone patio I built around my tent last year was still in tact and in need of only minor repairs. Crawling into my little tent and dumping my gigantic bags of kit, I immediately felt at home..!

The Adventure Peaks team base camp set up this year is identical to last year - a series of bright yellow Ozark brand tents clustered around 2 giant blue mess tents. Each of the two mess tents have 1 long table down the centre lined by 10 rather brittle plastic garden chairs. The tables are covered by a buffet of condiments including HP sauce, sketchily sauce, brown sauce, olives, mayonnaise, mustard, relish, various flavours of tea, honey, sugar, instant coffee, milk powder, instant lemon drink mix…. And so the list goes on. A key feature of the mess tent is the ‘Luxury Barrel’ - a morale booster which will send shivers down the spine of my dentist. The Luxury Barrel is full to the brim of all of the ‘creature comforts’ brought over from the UK. This includes (but is not limited to!) flapjacks, fondant fancies, granola bars, chocolate covered raisins, Bombay mix, mixed raisins, nuts, sultanas, Pringles of every flavor, chocolate bars - Bounty, Mars, Snickers, Kit-Kat - Lindt chocolates (for very special occasions!). It sounds excessive, but it’s shocking how little appetite you have at altitude and how quickly the weight literally falls off your body.

There are two toilet tents - both well constructed and fairly secure (thanks to some strategically placed boulders). Without going into detail, they are of a ‘squatting’ variety, which will take some getting used to again. When we’ve settled in I will likely construct a new and improved ’sit down style’ toilet out of one of the plastic garden chairs from the mess tent… Necessity is the mother of invention.

There is a ‘shower’ - but I use the term loosely. Anyone attempting to brave the winds, which are absolutely Baltic at the moment, is a brave (and desperate) soul. The shower basically involves a Sherpa or member of the kitchen staff pouring luke-warm water from a potato pan down a thin hose into a ‘tent’ (similar to the toilet tent) where the occupant is left to shiver and lather furiously hoping that the water doesn’t run out and/or that the wind doesn’t blow the shower tent over. Bathing in a potato pan in the relative comforts of your tent seems like a more reliable option.

Base Camp is a great little ‘community’ and no doubt will feel more and more like The Hilton as the expedition progresses and we are faced with much more difficult conditions higher up the mountain.

The Art of 'Faffing' on Everest

I’ve quickly learned that on a day out on the flanks of Everest, you have limitless opportunities for a good faff. Faffing is defined as:‘faffing’ (defn: FAFF v. & n. (Brit Colloq); -v.intr. (often followed by about, around) fuss, dither.-n. a fuss.).

The art of ‘faffing’, as any skier, hill-walker or climber will know, is an exceptionally fine art and one that requires significant amounts of time and training… Faffing can start as soon as you wake up. About half an hour before the sun rises and hits your tent make a few phone calls home from your mobile phone - the only link to the outside world. If the time change works in your favor, your friends should just be stumbling home from the pub. It’s recommended that you speak very loudly so that your voice is audible over wind buffeting your tent at Base Camp and the 10-decible clubbing music on the other end. It is recommended that you repeatedly shout, “What? What? Speak LOUDER. I can’t hear you. He was WHAT…?! OMG, are you SERIOUS??? He said that…?!?”.

Following the catch up with friends learning how many shots of jagermeister have been enthusiastically consumed and chat-up lines subsequently delivered, sit up in your sleeping bag and begin to sort through your bags. Do this as noisily as possible. It is helpful to have your gear in lots of plastic bags of the type that make a good rustling noise when opened. In spite of the fact you can probably smell them, you probably won’t be able to find your clothes in the dark, so flood the tent with light and mutter loudly to yourself.

Get up and empty your pee bottle as close to another tent as possible, stumbling over some loose scree on the way. Break wind shamelessly on the way, HAFE (high altitude flatulence is, after all, the sign of a true mountaineer).

Moving on to breakfast, the confined space of the mess tent is the ideal place for a faff. As your teammates stumble in from their high-altitude slumbers, lean over the sticky plastic table and rummage through the countless boxes of cereal, marmite, nutella and old tea bags. Always bring at least three large nalgene bottles to be filled with boiling water. Filling all of these will empty all of the thermoses of hot water and create a hot-water deficiency backlog will last all morning. Remember to knock over at least 3 white plastic chairs every time you go past. Ensure that you pour ‘sweet cream tea’ on your cereal at least twice rather than milk.

Insist on asking about the weather forecast and the summit window probability for the next 5 days every day of the expedition (from Day 1 in Kathmandu) at least 5 times per day, increasing with exponential frequency the closer you get to late May. Then move on to the favorite debate of what to wear on summit day.

Sit down to eat and engage in the usual breakfast conversation about whether or not to take Diamox and what you’re doing today. Don’t be pushed into making up your mind on whether to go on an acclimatisation hike. Instead, deluge the guide with questions like ‘What’s happening today..? Are we going to Advanced Base Camp today?’ preferably before plans have been finalised.

At about 10:00am, there will probably be some sort of briefing, during which the proposed acclimatisation walk will be announced. Be sure to ask how far you will be going, and how fast and whether or not you will have to wear a down suit and carry an axe and what sort of lunch will be provided. Insist on the exact mileage, to the nearest meter in altitude, and for full details of rest-stops, ice seracs, yak transport and other attractions on the route. Spend some time mulling over the answers and asking other people what they’re doing. Make a decision on whether or not to go on the acclimatisation walk (after all, you’ll likely have about 1.5 months of laundry to do or could have a monumental wash in the kitchen cooking pot). Have a look who else in on your walk. Then change your mind. This process can usefully be repeated a few times.

Always begin the walk wearing unsuitable clothing. If the weather is warm, put on all your spare layers. If it is cold, wear your thinnest base layer. When dry, start by putting on your goretex and down layer. In this way, you will need to stop after the first hundred yards and add or remove layers. Remember to put on gaiters at all times of the year because they are always provide a good opportunity to faff.

During the walk, the possibilities are endless. Particularly useful is your rucksack. Get everybody to stop while you look for your camera/water bottle/gloves/axe/Mars bar, etc, which you have stashed at the bottom of your pack. Accessing it involves pulling literally everything else out and then repacking it all again. For greater effect, when you get to the bottom of the pack you announce that the item is missing and, after a protracted period of thrashing about with a puzzled look on your face, you suddenly discover that it was in your pocket all the time.

Just at the crux of the route, when exposure is at its most extreme and only a .2mm stainless steel crampon tooth determines the difference between life and death, decide to take a photo to capture the view up (the backside of your partner climber on the route) and view down (a 1000 foot drop into a cloudy abyss). As soon as you get to a ridge no wider than 1 foot wide, decide to stroll around looking at the view, the vegetation or taking photographs. Only start on your food just before everybody else is ready to move on.

Clearly, the possibilities are endless… By this point your day has just begun and the fun has only started. If you survive the first week without entirely ostracising yourself from your team mates then you’re not working hard enough….

The Tibetan Plateau

We all piled 5-to-a-jeep early Friday morning happy to leave the Dollarama capital of the world that is Zheng Mu. Simon, Geordie, Chris and I sat in the jeep as our driver winked knowingly at us and tightened the nuts on the wheels of our old and dusty (circ 1990s) Toyota Land Cruiser. Given it had taken me about 2 months to recover from the psychological scars from last years journey up to Nylam I was not amused to see that there wasn’t a seatbelt in sight. I suppose that if the jeep were to career off one of the hundreds of steep switchbacks leading up to Nylam a seatbelt wouldn’t do much to save your life.

I was slightly apprehensive about the route today because it would be a physically demanding one, as we would be climbing from about 2800m to Base Camp at 5182m. A very significant altitude gain which would have been impossible had we not pre-acclimatised last week on the south side of the mountain. It would be a true test to see whether my red blood cells had done their job and multiplied as they should have…!!

The road leading up to Nylam from Zheng Mu will (I’m sure) soon appear in an episode of Top Gear (watch this space!!). The road is a feat of road-building engineering genius and can easily put many of the roads we find in the ‘western world’ to shame. Not a pothole in sight over the 15kms of switchbacks that are cut into the steep rock face. Last year the road was far from complete with water, cement mixers, pic-axes, and people spread chaotically along a muddy dirt track. A short 12 months later I’m astounded to se a fully completed road of engineering craftsmanship. A journey that once took 5 hours by car now takes 45 minutes…

We stopped briefly in Nylam, which was less 'built up' than Zheng Mu and had a rather bizarre 'feel' to it. Cows and dogs grazed together along the side of the dusty road, eating cardboard boxes and whatever garbage they could find while the local people went about their morning routines - rolling up their shop windows, washing their hair, dusting off their front steps whilst eating their dry chapattis ready for another day of business. All the streetscape lacked was a roll of tumbleweed bouncing down into the Himalayan panorama to make the 'wild west' image complete.

The journey continued to be absolutely beautiful as we travelled through the dry, dusty Tibetan plateau, reaching an altitude of 5000m on a pass marked by thousands of prayer flags flapping in the breeze under a clear blue sky. Views on both sides of the jeep were stunning and it was difficult to take everything in at once. Farmers, in traditional Tibetan dress, led their cows into the fields, the perimeters of which were marked by rocks and narrow shallow ditches. Women dressed in bright red scarves, long black skirts, adorned with feathers and decorated stones carried their children on their backs in brightly coloured bags as they travelled by foot from one small village to the next. The villages we passed were all 'gated' by a 5-foot wall, a wooden door and marked by flag-posts which seemed to sprout from each of the buildings, adorned by a red, blue, yellow and white flag. Our jeep shared the road with small diesel-powered three-wheeled tractors pulling a small wagon filled with children or yak dung which, when heated, is used to heat the homes.

As we followed a final series of switchbacks up over the 5000m pass, I felt as though I was now finally, 'on the roof of the world'.

We were here offered the first sight of Everest standing solitary and grand like a beacon above the rest of the Himalayan panorama. Next to it was Cho Oyu, looking equally impressive and ominous with spindrift swirling from its peak. Everest looked close enough to touch even though it was still 80 kilometers away. 5000m Pass

Our next destination is Tingri…A town which since the days of Mallory and Irvine in the 1920s has been renowned for its filth and disease.

The road leading to Tingri is however absolutely fascinating in terms of contrasts, particularly now that I can compare it to approaching Everest from the south.South approach

Lush, green, fragrant Khumbu valley

Yaks, friendly dogs and array of birds as wildlife

Smiling, friendly locals and hundreds of trekkers

Rainbows and sunshine

Everest, Ama Dablam, Makalu

North approach

Dry, arid, dusty Tibetan plateau

Rabid dogs, crows, thin cows as ‘wildlife’

Stone-faced locals and nervous looking climbers

Dust devils and clouds

Everest, Cho Oyu, Shisapagma

View across Tibetan Plateau

Tingri

For those who followed/were part of the journey last year, the name ‘Tingri’ will send shudders up and down the spine. For those unfamiliar with Tingri, or have not had the opportunity to visit this little gem of a ‘tourist trap’ on the Everest North route, let me attempt to paint a picture for you. It is a grim little town in the middle of the Tibetan plateau. One gets the sense that Tingri hasn’t changed much over the past one hundred years apart from the addition of a China Telecom shop to its central business district. A fine silty dust covers the town, which consists primarily of one long flat road. Lining the road on either side are a series of sparsely stocked shops (I bought a chocolate bar with a 2008 expiry date!), market stalls, and single room homes with dirt floors and plastic bags recycled to serve as windows. Buildings are all made of sun-baked clay crumbling into dust. Some buildings have been decorated with blue, red and yellow trim, which have since faded over years of weathering.

Perhaps the most disturbing thing about Tingri however is the number of sick animals - particularly mangy flea-bitten dogs, which roam the streets. I gripped my trekking pole in one hand and my yen in another and shuffled as unobtrusively as a blond, brightly dressed, down-clad, Oakley-wearing female could in the middle of a town of locals all dressed in blacks and browns. To the left and to the right mangy, flea bitten dogs eyed me conspicuously with saliva dripping from their jaws. A small tractor made its way down the road as one of the dogs dragged its lame and infected hind limbs over the road to avoid its path. A puppy ran through the raw sewage that lies in the ditch alongside a dirt sidewalk. Dust from the dry Tibetan plateau blew through the streets kicking up dust devils and leaving a trail of rubbish in its wake. I tried to remember the exact date of my last rabies shot. Locals went about their daily business, sitting outside their shops and catching up on the latest Tingiri gossip. As I entered the local supermarket I breathed a sigh of relief to have made it unscathed and paid for my chocolate bar with a 2008 expiration date.

Tingri is an extremely dismal place and I am grateful that we only had to spend an hour eating a ‘rice extravaganza’ this time round!

Shopping for Everest in Zheng-Mu, China

There are people (myself included!) who struggle to enter a ‘Dollar Store’ or ‘Pound Shop’ without resisting the temptation to purchase all of those essential life-changing items at rock-bottom prices… items you can’t live without like crocheted toilet-paper roll covers, glow in the dark salt and pepper shakers, bread baskets in the shape of swans….

In an effort to stretch our legs and experience the sights, sounds and shopping delights of Zheng Mu, Chris and I decided to wander up and along the towns switchbacks. We were on a mission to look for all of the essential creature comforts that one needs to make the 2 months spent on the flanks of Mount Everest as comfortable as possible.

We didn’t have much of a shopping list but with the yuan burning a hole in our pockets we managed to purchase and indulge in all of the absolute essentials:

1 x baby blue ‘Rabbit what makes you so happy’ pencil sharpener

1 x string of Christmas lights (indoor?) - half of lights flicker randomly

1 x kilo of garlic (for acclimatising)

1 x dusty, ripped, army green duvet

1 x bright spring-like, uber girly duvet cover

1 x soccer ball

1 x colourful striped welcome mat

1 x plastic, lime green chair / stool

1 x lime green rice-filled pillow (apparently ergonomic)

1 x string of green Christmas garland

1 x bungee cord

1 x plastic pink children’s mirror with dodgy looking Chinese man on back.

The list seems somewhat random but ironically, as I sit here in my tent and under my new duvet and duvet cover, I can very comfortably report that all of the above items have already been put to good use…!!

The Journey to Base Camp Begins

The team is in great spirits as we board the bus which will take us from Kathmandu to Zheng Mu, the Chinese border town separating Nepal and China. We are now well and truly en route to Everest Base Camp and there is a sense that the expedition has now ‘formally’ begun- the comforts of the Khumbu a far and distant memory. Our kit bags packed with all of our possessions for the coming two months are strapped precariously to the roof. Apart from a few tummy complaints the team is fit, strong and raring to go….

Looking left out of the cracked bus window I see rusty blue motorcycle with the exhaust cleverly secured onto the frame with some oily twine and strategically placed electrical tape. From the handlebars of the motorcycle hangs a series of brightly coloured streamers - blue, red, yellow - filthy from years of pollution and urban dust. Sat in the drivers seat of this powerful machine is a thin Nepali man dressed in a North Face down jacket (even though it’s a festering 28 degrees) ripped blue jeans and Adidas flip flops. Sitting proudly behind him are what I assume to be his 3 year old son, 6 year old daughter and 12 year old nephew - all barefoot and smiling as the motorcycle zig-zags its way through the chaotic maze of buses, cars, rickshaws, bicycles, and pedestrian traffic, oblivious to the health and safety laws which they would have been breaking had this been Canada or the UK! This sight is not at all uncommon in Kathmandu - give or take a child or two in the passenger seat.

The smells of Kathmandu do as much to awaken the senses - the rich fumes of gasoline and a milky sweet smell hang thick in the humid air. Wires are strung haphazardly between buildings and random poles, some electrical power cables are so heavy they hang to the ground like giant black skipping ropes. In the middle of all of this urban confusion stands a formally dressed traffic warden in smart blue trousers and matching shirt -his uniform - and a pair of bright white gloves and facemask to protect him from the pollution. With his shrill whistles, flurry of hand signals and confident stares he brings a ‘seeming’ order to the traffic rocketing down and through the streets.

As the bus leaves the chaos of Kathmandu we move to a more rural setting where dusty urban structures are replaced by houses made of stone and sun-baked clay. Traffic is limited to chickens, cows, and random dogs roaming the pot-holed roads which wind through some of the most spectacular landscapes I’ve ever seen… steep rocky hills covered in scree and masses of bright pink flowers, dull green shrubs, waterfalls around every bend.

As we drive through the small rural villages, a child can be seen running barefoot over the road with bright red cheeks, gigantic smiles and eyes sparkling with curiosity and adventure. The child’s mother doesn’t even bat an eyelid as the child darts along a cliff with a 100m vertical drop mere centimeters away.

Nearing the boarder to China one immediately senses a shift to a more industrial/commercial way of life. Roadside stands move from selling eggs and vegetables to giant woolen blankets, giant 5litre thermoses, and an array of brightly colored plastic ‘tat’ which can be found in Dollar Stores/ Pound Shops around the world.

With this shift to a more industrial economy comes an unbelievable amount of garbage scattered along the roadside. Plastic bags, old clothing, children’s toys, household waste…

'Friendship Bridge' Border crossing between Nepal and China

Formalities are followed as we reach the imposing border between Nepal and China. Separating the two countries is an imposing concrete bridge stretching over a river of white-water littered with garbage. The architectural differences between the two countries could not be more dramatic. On the Nepal side the shops and restaurants of the border town are made of old tin and wood with hand painted signs in basic lettering, faded with age and dust. Dogs roam the streets and women wait impatiently at the parking lot so that they can meet the busses as they arrive and carry the heavy bags over the boarder to earn an income (busses are not permitted to cross the bridge without extensive security clearance and permits). The Chinese Immigration hall is a solid, modern and imposing structure which is as regimented as it is chaotic. Our luggage is checked on industrial sized tables by Security and passports are checked and double checked. Eye contact is avoided.

We’re whisked into China by several vans and unloaded in the Chinese border town of Zheng Mu. Zheng Mu is a fairly large town built into a hill so that the town is spread over a series of about 8 switchbacks. It’s used primarily as a stopping point for trucks entering / leaving China. The stores and services lining the streets are primarily of the ’dollar store’ variety, the occasional telecom shop, nightclubs and brothels advertising all sorts of services not limited to the ever popular “foot bottom massage”. It’s an unusual town to say the least and certainly not part of the ’tourist route’. Having said that, we’ve checked into a hotel that is not altogether unpleasant (if you overlook the bed bugs, lack of toilet paper, and stained sheets!). Needless to say, I can’t wait to get to Base Camp in less than 24 hours!!