Somewhere in Kathmandu with the locals. Probably a place where one can purchase a kitchen sink.
We came across these kids following their 7-year old brother along the lake wall. Time-out as we reconsidered and realized they were probably safer than we were.
One of our earlier spottings of Mount Everest. Turns the emotions upside down...even now...maybe, especially now
As we follow the route of Tenzing Norgay and Sir Edmund Hilary, stopping before the real action, the ascent of Peak XV, since renamed Mount Everest, we continue to eat very large helpings of 'humble pie' each moment of the day. We also raise our hats to all those who succeeded in the ascent, those who attempted it and remember those who did not return. While a person may lie in bed at home and think of a possible attempt, the reality of an expedition is most sobering. Without Sherpa guidance, one wonders whether the feat would even be possible.
We mention the Sherpas (and/or porters) often enough as we move about Nepal. Well, here's a ditty that sums up our feelings:
"The Sherpa schlepps, the trekker treks; The Sherpa schlepps stoically, the trekker treks whining(ly);
The Sherpa bears extraordinary weight, the trekker bears extraordinary humility; The Sherpa strengthens himself daily, the trekker humbles him/herself constantly."
Not a day passes, as we observe these porters carrying burdens beyond comprehension up and down the mountains, that we are not moved to shed a tear, feel a tear of the heart or question the uneven struggles that various people suffer.
Passing along the cliff above the stunning Loboche base camp and peak. We stopped and viewed the sight in awe.
"Would you say about this high, Dipak?" A few porters sitting on wall taking a break.
'Three ants" (middle-right) make their way to Kala Patther Peak. We reached our highest level ever at 18,400 feet. It was an afternoon hike following the morning walk from the previous camp.
Peak XV (Everest) in background.
Getting close. Love these signs. They have so much 'emotional meaning' although we don't always understand why. We stayed at all four of the places on the board, three overnight.
Japanese Stupa above city of Pokhara. Monument of Peace, about 1,100 feet hike elevation gain. Looks like Jen is donating her boots...oh no!
A view of Kathmandu from the "Monkey" Temple in the city. (The name is derived from the apes that inhabit the area.)
Hiker on the long, lonely road home.
Where were we ...Ah...trying to get a plane to fly us to Lukla. It's proving to be difficult and not a little frustrating. With the weather in these high mountains erratic and uncooperative, one begins to wonder whether it's possible to fly into this mysterious airport. We also met many people in similar situations as our own which we suppose is not surprising. Those with time restraints are under pressure to begin the trek, this one to Everest, as each day lost is a day less for hiking. Unfortunately, because of air pressure issues and the physical demand of the trek, one cannot reduce the period by much unless one is in superb condition. Even so, the air can reek havoc on the body of even the strongest.
Being stuck in an airport, all with similar goals, builds a certain camaraderie on the day and fortunately develops further over the days following on the trails. We came up with a backup plan because of the initial delay, after 6 hours at the airport, but fortunately, did not need it as the authorities opened the runway for the next morning. In a little irony, we had originally booked an apartment for 4 days in Kathmandu and a flight for the Monday. When Jen learned some weeks previously that the runway was going to be repaired and thus closed, she arranged for a day earlier flight. We then cancelled the fourth night of our apartment booking. By the way, we were on the 5th floor without an elevator. Try lugging forty pound baggage ... I felt bad as I watched Jen carry our bags. I, of course had to supervise her, not an easy task in of itself but whose complaining.
We reverted back to the original arrangement after checking out earlier that morning by checking in again for a fourth night. The young manager, Gyan, was most helpful and accommodating. It was a pleasure dealing with him and we ended up returning twice more. The flight to Lukla, twenty-seven minutes, announced the cabin staff in a turbo-prop 16-seater, was the most interesting and exciting we've experienced. Take-off, views of the world's premier mountain range, the villages below in the valleys of this mountainous region, the skill of flying between mountains and a landing that could make the dullest of individuals sit up and realize something spectacular had occurred.
For the final approach, the pilot banked left, came around a mountain, brought the plane to just above the runway which sits in the mountains and slopes up at quite an angle, put the plane down smoothly, taxied for twenty seconds or so, swung the wheel hard right and left again and halted it and invited us to depart from the plane. Upon reaching the runway, it was as if we were in another world.
Imagine one of those mesmerizing opening scenes filling the big movie screens. Think of Paton, Lawrence of Arabia or an Arab bazaar where the camera is up close in the center of the action. The sound is loud and alive and one feels part of the scene as the locals jump into action to clear and prepare the plane. It was big, powerful, busy and surreal. Airplanes arriving on mountains, taking off on a runway sloping into hell, the color and noise of the locals, both amusing and fresh and the welcoming sign of Tenzing and Hillary—it made us shiver as we felt we were in another world and would try, although not walk in their footsteps, but deep in their shadows.
Making the turn toward the left and down into the sky. Huh?
Cheers,
Jenni and Jeffrey
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