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!!

CBC.ca | The Bridge | Heather Geluk is in Kathmandu getting ready to make her second attempt at climbing Mount Everest. We'll hear what it takes to prepare for a climb of this magnitude....and we'll get a little lesson on acclimatization from one of the guides.

CBC.ca The Bridge Heather Geluk is in Kathmandu getting ready to make her second attempt at climbing Mount Everest. We'll hear what it takes to prepare for a climb of this magnitude....and we'll get a little lesson on acclimatization from one of the guides.

Message from Michael Palin to students of RDHS, Sevenoaks & Future Hope

It is with great pleasure that I pass on the following message from Michael Palin (http://www.palinstravels.co.uk/) to the students of Ridgetown District High School (Canada), Sevenoaks School (UK) and Future Hope (India):

 

"I wish all those taking part in Everest2 a safe and successful journey.  It won’t be easy and will require everybody to work hard and work together. But what they will learn from this expedition will stay with them for the rest of their lives.”

- Michael Palin, English comedian, actor, travel writer and television presenter