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…!!