Tom's Climbing Blog

To expect much coherent thought after 28 hours of travel and an eleven and three quarters hour time change is unrealistic, but suffice it say I made it to the Yak and Yeti hotel without any drama, and I’ll leave it at that. If all goes well, I’ll be flying to Lukla tomorrow.

Forgive my slow start to this blog. I’m still adjusting to the 11 and 3/4 hour time change. Mercifully, my tour operator got me out of the city quickly allowing me to get on the trail. After 29 hours in Kathmandu, I boarded a helicopter and flew to Lukla. Regular fixed wing flights are still the norm, but those flights no longer start from Kathmandu, rather, they involve a 5 or 6 hour drive that starts in the wee hours of the morning. If I may go on a tangent here: there’s a certain allure to just starting where the road ends… my father started his trek to Everest base camp back in 1979 from the end of the road in Jiri. 15 years ago Dede and I took a 10 hour bus ride to the Rolwaling valley… but there’s a lesson to be learned that comes from these experiences: driving on Nepali roads sucks. This year I elected to just fly in a helicopter from Kathmandu.

Lukla (9300’) has the famous runway that ends in a cliff, and is the normal starting and end point of treks and climbs in the Khumbu valley. After handing my 3 duffels to porters (2 duffels go straight to base camp, the third duffel goes with me for the next 2 weeks), we started a relatively easy 8 mile hike that ends at the same altitude that we started. This is walking up the main “road”… well, it is a road, only instead of cars, it’s people, yaks and donkeys. It’s most definitely not wilderness. There are people everywhere.

If you look at the video, you will notice that it’s hazy. Farmers in India burn their fields in the spring, making the air toxic. When I pulled up a weather app in Kathmandu, the weather app starting giving me air quality alarms (AQI = 191). I had experienced this back in 2000 and knew it was coming. I should be climbing above most of the the haze tomorrow, but we’ll see. Today the clouds blended with the haze, and you couldn’t see any of the high peaks. The air smells foul. I hiked with a mask on.

Of course the advantage of being lower down in the valley is that this teahouse has relatively good internet, and power outlets. That should continue for the next three days, and then all bets are off. I’ll enjoy it while I have it.

That’s all I have for tonight. I’m still too jet lagged to even think about the fact that this is the first day of a two month journey… yikes. Time for bed. Goodnight.

Namche Bazaar is the largest town, and in most respects is the centerpiece of the Khumbu valley. My memory is that it hosts a weekly market for Tibetan goods on Saturdays, hence the “Bazaar”, but I saw no sign of that as we walked in around lunchtime (did Amazon put them out of business?). Anyway, today was an easy 3.5 miles and 2100’ of ascent. It only took 2.5 hours, and at least 20 minutes of that was spent doing paperwork at the two government checkpoints. The final hill up to Namche is a dusty trail through the woods, and a very good friend of mine says that this hill seems to be a common source of the Khumbu cough, so I wore a mask and tried not to breath too deeply. Since we’re still in the elevation range of the mountains I trained on in Jackson this winter, this wasn’t a problem.

Acclimatization is a slow process. At this point, there’s nothing to do except to let the body adapt, and that takes time. Thus the days are short. Here I am attempting the highest mountain in the world, and I’m walking slowly up an easy hill, and then calling it a day. It’s all very counterintuitive.

Namche exists where it is because it has a large and reliable spring. When I was here 8 years ago, this fountain was under construction.

My hotel room is at about 11,300’. We’ll stay here for 3 nights to acclimatize before moving on. This is the calm before the storm. My hotel room comes with an electric blanket, unlimited power and relatively good internet. Once I leave here, it will become much more primitive, but only for the next 7 weeks or so.

A lot of you have been emailing me questions, and I will attempt to answer all of them over the next few days in these posts. Email is the best way to reach me. Tetonclimber@gmail.com.

It’s tea time.

I haven’t talked about Galzn, my Sherpa guide yet. That will come. For now, suffice it to say that we’re still feeling each other out. I think he envisioned today as a 2 hour stroll to the Everest View Hotel and back, and showed up this morning with nothing but a jacket. I, on the other hand, had other ideas. I wanted to hike up a ridge above the hamlet of Khunde. We had talked about it the night before, and I even pulled out a map to show him, but I don’t think it really sunk in. On the trail, he seemed annoyed that I kept wanting to go farther, and I had to coax him forward on several occasions. When we reached the summit he confessed to me that he had never been there before, and at some point I noticed that his body language had changed: he was having a good time.

Just to be truthful, it’s not really a summit. It’s just one of a dozen bumps on a longer ridge… you could go as far as you want, but this bump seemed to have more prayer flags on it than any of the others, so we declared victory.

Galzn on the way up with Everest behind.

The obligatory summit video

On the way up, we had ascended a very easy but indirect trail. To mix it up I wanted to descend a slightly steeper ridge but one that didn’t really have a trail on it. Galzn was very skeptical of the idea, and I got the impression that he was starting to dig in his heels. I think we were about 15 seconds away from our first argument when a young woman in running tights ran right past us and down the ridge. We never spoke a word to her, nor did Galzn and I say anything, but without further ado, Galzn just started walking down the ridge. The decision was made. Trekking in Nepal can be a journey into the past… and I’ll leave it at that.

Our “summit” today was about the same altitude as the Grand Teton (Gaia had me 30 feet higher). So far I seem to be acclimatizing well. It takes discipline to resist just putting it in gear and sprinting uphill, but I’m trying not to irritate my lungs. Most people around me are coughing, including Galzn. I don’t think it’s an illness… I think it’s just irritation. The trail is really dusty, and the wind blows the dust everywhere. Plus, the haze from the brush burning in India is acrid and feels toxic to me. Many if not most people hike with a buff over their mouth. I’ve worn a buff in the past, but I’m a little skeptical that it actually does anything. This year I’m trying to wear an N95 mask. We’ll see if it makes any difference. It’s only day 3.

Tomorrow is a rest day. That means walking around town for an hour, eating a pizza for lunch and then reading a book. I will leave you with a panorama video from the start of our hike. The internet isn’t working very well this morning (nor was it last night) so this might just be a link. Cheers.

Everybody has been asking me: who am I going with? Well, it’s not easy finding a partner to climb Mt Everest. I have a lot of friends who would love to go, and are certainly qualified and would make great partners. The stumbling block is the price. I don’t have many friends who have $50k to throw at the mountain (and when you add airfare, tips, rescue insurance and specialized gear that you’ll never use anywhere else such as a down suit and 8000 meter boots, you can probably add $15k to that). I thought that I had lucked out: I went to Pumori in 2000 with a friend who has the experience and a lucrative job… And he wanted to go. Because his daughter was graduating last year, he asked me to wait a year, which I did, but this February, after I had wired the money to Kathmandu, he decided to cancel. I have to admit that it threw me for a loop. Everybody I tell this story to justifiably has questions, but I’m just going to say that I don’t have the answers, and that it’s time to move on. Please let this one go.

So, this winter I had the choice to wait another year or two in the hope that I could find another partner, or just go solo. I had already paid in full, and I wasn’t getting my money back. Obviously, I’m here. The fact of the matter is that I’m 61… waiting has its downsides.

I’m not really going alone. I will have two Sherpas with me. One of them, Galzn, met me at the Lukla airport and will be with me for the whole expedition. The other is already at Everest Base Camp. I’ve been told his name but it went in one ear and out the other (did I mention the 11 and 3/4 hour time change?). I’ve not met him yet. Presumably he’ll be shuttling loads up to the higher camps while we trek around.

There are a select few western climbers who succeed in the Himalayas without Sherpa support, but it’s remarkably rare. Most western climbers hire sherpas, and dare I say it: ALL western climbers hire Sherpas on the easy routes of famous peaks (more on that in a future post). I personally have never stood on top of a Himalayan peak without a Sherpa. I tried once. I didn’t make it. Dede and I got to the top of Baruntse (along with a 3rd American) accompanied by 4 Sherpas, and a few years later I climbed Ama Dablam 1 on 1 with a Sherpa. Even with an American partner, my expectation all along is that we would each be climbing with a Sherpa. It’s just easier and safer that way. Remember that Sir Edmond Hillary made the first ascent of Everest with Sherpa Tenzing Norgay.

So who are these Sherpas? Wikipedia says that “the Sherpas are one of the Tibetan ethnic groups native to the most mountainous regions of Nepal and Tibetan Autonomous Region. The term sherpa or sherwa derives from the Tibetan-language words ཤར shar (‘east’) and པ pa (‘people’), which refer to their geographical origin in eastern Tibet.” Perhaps a more simplistic answer is that they are the people that live in the mountains of eastern Nepal. They are very well adapted to altitude, and, from my point of view, their lives aren’t easy. These two attributes translate well to mountaineering. Their strength and work ethic are amazing to me. 15 years ago I remember trying to keep up with a Sherpa (Nima Tashi) at 22,000’ on Baruntse. He was 10 years my senior and had a fused ankle but I wasn’t even close to keeping up with him. He was in a different league.

Galzn (full name Fur Galzn Sherpa) was born and raised downstream of Lukla. He’s 37, has a wife and two teenage kids in Kathmandu, and makes his living supporting and guiding westerners like me in the mountains. He’s summitted Everest 5 times, and has also climbed Makalu, Lohtse, Daulagiri and Manaslu. I seem to be in good hands. The only downside is that his English is only fair. We can communicate the basic stuff. I can ask him if I should drink the orange juice that was just put in front of me (the answer was no) and talking about what gear to bring seems easy, but asking him what is a “Sherpa” got me nowhere. On the plus side, he laughs easily and if I keep my jokes simple, he seems to genuinely laugh with me. It’ll be interesting to see how our relationship evolves in the next two months.

Since I might not have internet this reliable for the next 7 weeks, I thought I would do a photo dump this afternoon. I’ll start with the teahouses. Generally speaking, the lower in the valley you are, the nicer the lodgings. That has certainly proved the case so far.

These rooms look very western. They have a private bathroom with a shower, but you have to be careful… There is no heat or ventilation (except for opening the windows) and you have to assume that the room will cool off into the 40s at night. I know from past experiences that steaming up the room in the evening by taking a shower has its consequences. In this case I tried to game the system by taking a shower in the morning, but alas, the water is heated by the Sun… so close…

According to Galzn, all the potatoes are grown locally. Technically, I guess, they are organic, and there are many signs advertising this at the restaurants. The cynic in me wonders if these potatoes would pass organic certification in the US knowing that it was grown with human poop as fertilizer… best not to think too hard about that.

In case you’re wondering, no, you won’t see even the tiniest potato skin anywhere. Not even a speck. And we pretty much eat potatoes 3 meals a day.

Yes, they sell real north face products. Interestingly enough, you can buy brand new western goods here. I would go so far to say that if the airlines lost all you gear, you might be able to completely restock for Everest here in Namche. And the gear is actually cheaper than in the US. They had all kinds of Black Diamond packs and ice axes and slings. The La Sportiva Everest boots were 96000 rupees, which is about $740. Now the question would be do they have the right size…

Tomorrow, we continue up valley to Portse.

Day 5. Today we’re moving up the valley to Phortse. Once again, it’s not a particularly hard day. That’s the rule around here… going up the days are short. Tonight we’ll be sleeping a mere 1200’ higher than Namche, although admittedly to get there we have to hike up 2700’, and down 1500’… trails around here tend to go up and down a lot.

The first mile or two out of Namche is utterly spectacular, and has the rare attribute of being mostly level and not too rocky.

It is, however, very crowded. This is not wilderness. That’s why I call it the main drag to EBC.

You might wonder why my pack is so big… after all, I have a porter. Conceivably I could be carrying only water and a rain jacket. Well, this isn’t that kind of vacation. I’m intentionally keeping 25 – 30 pounds on my back. This strategy worked well for me on Ama Dablam. Hopefully it works again. Galzn has told me that most people that he has guided have carried lighter packs than me.

About 2 miles past Namche, my route finally diverges from the main path to EBC. The red line is the main path. We’re going up the green line. Where the green line disappears over the ridge (at a hamlet called Mong-La), the trail drops down 1500’ and then climbs back up 800’ to Phortse.

My iPad is running out of juice, so I’m going to stop for now. Overall, it was an uneventful day. 5 leisurely hours to cover 6 miles with 2700’ of ascent. We had to stop a lot… the view was just too good and you definitely don’t want to stumble off the trail around here. After the first two miles we left the main road, and I must admit it felt great to get away from the crowds. Our path isn’t empty, but at least you can get far enough away from other people to pee. Up until this point, that just hasn’t been a possibility… yes, it really is that crazy. I honestly thought that springtime would be less crowded than autumn, after all, there’s this horrible acrid smelling haze…the air in October/November is much cleaner, but maybe the word isn’t out yet. Or maybe it actually is more crowded in the autumn, after all, it’s been 8 years since I was last here. Hmmmm…

It snowed a little last night… not much more than a dusting, but it was the first precip of the trip. Apparently the hill directly above Phortse can be scrambled, but it’s steep, and with the fresh snow, we decided on a mellower hiking objective. Remember, the goal is to acclimatize, not to beat ourselves up. So we aimed for the ridge above the hamlet of Khonar. It’s mostly grassy pastureland, but it still got us up to 14,950’… and no matter how you slice it, it’s a day hike in the Himalaya. It’s always spectacular. Overall, it took us 4 hours to go 5 miles round trip, with a tad over 2500’ of ascent. Galzn didn’t even bring a pack.

The obligatory summit video.

I don’t have a picture of it, but a hundred feet below the summit there was a few feet of exposed scrambling… steep enough to make you think, but not really hard. In descent, Galzn was going first, and after he down climbed the step, he turned around and asked to hold my trekking poles as I down climbed it. My initial reaction was: you have to be frickin kidding me! Here we are about to climb Mt Everest together – Mt Everest! – and you think I need help on a casual scramble, but…. …. …. I knew something like this was coming, and I had mentally prepared myself for this moment. You see, back in 2009, our Sherpas fixed about 100’ of rope up some easy 4th class rock on a pass called the Tashi Lapsa. Back then I was in my guiding prime, and it didn’t even occur to me to grab the rope… I just free soloed it because it was fun. Well, it turns out that the Sherpas took it personally. They thought I didn’t touch the rope because I didn’t trust them. It may seem trivial but it turned into a minor brouhaha and knowing that we had a lot of climbing ahead of us, I had to essentially grovel for their forgiveness. There’s no need to go through that again. I don’t know how Galzn would have reacted had I declined his help, but the fact of the matter is that I need him on Everest, and if this is what it takes, well, I’m not that proud. I handed him my poles. I don’t have a partner. I have a guide.

I wonder what Galzn would think if he ever read this blog?

Phortse is home to the Khumbu Climbing School. This school was set up by western climbing guides – Conrad Anker being foremost among them – to train the Sherpas in western guiding techniques. The school generally takes place during the Khumbu off season: ie, January. I know several guides in Jackson who have come here to teach (I would imagine it’s a little chilly then). During the Sherpa guiding season, ie, now, it functions mostly as a museum, with a library and a study hall. It’s beautifully built.

I know some of the guides who have worked here, and I can totally visualize them taking this mountain bike out for a spin. I get it. To an older rider such as myself, it looks suicidal… the side hilling is next level and the trails are rocky, but I get it, and seeing the bike here – in good condition – made me smile.

I’m staying at the teahouse adjacent to the center. Phortse is not inline with any of the main Khumbu canyons, so this place gets only a fraction of the traffic. Last night and tonight I have the place to myself. I’m the only one here. On our hike today, we only saw maybe a half dozen people. The solitude likely ends tomorrow, so I’ll just live in the moment.

Alas, now that I’m moving up the valley, the rooms are getting more, well, you can see for yourself. I still have a private toilet, but you have to manually flush it by pouring water in it. There’s no hot water. There’s no heat. No more electric blankets. It was 38 degrees in the room when I woke up this morning.

Who picked the green paint?

Gokyo is widely regarded as one of the more beautiful destinations in the Khumbu. I had been here back in 2009, but unfortunately we had bad weather. The views from a bump above the town (Gokyo Ri) are reportedly 5 star, so I intentionally planned my route through here in the hopes of getting to see it with blue sky.. Plus, this allowed me to spend two days hiking up a valley that I haven’t been to before, and I’m always up for exploring.

On this day we’re climbing up 14,000 feet. Timberline is around 13, so this is the day that we leave the trees behind… for the next 7 weeks.

I was keeping my eye out for them, but unfortunately they must have passed us when I was using the rest room.

This was probably the hardest day so far, although it wasn’t that hard. 5 hours, 6 miles and almost 3000’ of climbing. The lodge is at 14,400’, which is historically where I start feeling the altitude.

There was no internet here so I had the day off.

One of the joys of trekking in Nepal is the burning Yak dung. At least it warms the room. The smell is unique to Nepal (at least for me). Yes, it’s horrible, but I associate it with good memories, and I’ll take it any day over the brush fire smoke from India.

Last night was the first night that I’ve seen a star. It took long enough. It’s been pretty cloudy except for a few hours each morning.

Gokyo is at 15,600’. While I have been blissfully unaware of the altitude up until this point, I now have a headache, loss of appetite and I feel tired and achey. (whose idea was this anyway?) I’m just sleeping the afternoon away, and honestly, it’s a bit of a struggle to write this post. I’ll talk more about the altitude another day. For now, I’m going to sign off and lie down. The plan tomorrow is to hike up Gokyo Ri, which is over 17,000’, and then return to here. If we were going to leave right now, I would pass. We’ll see.

Well, the weather is gorgeous this morning, but alas, we’re not hiking up Gokyo Ri. I came down with a cold yesterday. If this were at home, it would be unremarkable. At 15,600’, with my sinuses filled, it’s hard to breathe. It was a long night.

I made it to the night of day 8 before digging into my med kit. I’ve now started taking Diamox.

Does this mean that I don’t have to wear my n95 mask anymore? I thought I had a secret weapon… not.

Time to go back to bed. I knew that this was coming. I’m well prepared. It just sucks in the moment.

This cold is still hitting me hard but I really wanted to go up Gokyo Ri. It’s a pretty easy hike… about a mile and 2000 vertical feet. Realistically, If I couldn’t do it, then I might have to reevaluate our plans to go over the Cho La, which is a pass of about the same altitude which we plan to go over in 2 days. In a way, this was a test. Turns out, it was pretty easy. It took 1.5 hours up, and the views were worth it. And keep in mind that I literally chose to go up this valley for this hike.

Climbing at altitude is all about deprivations. This cold just brought them on sooner than I was expecting. That first night was pretty miserable. As I’m writing this I just had Dal Bhat for dinner and it was the first food that I actually wanted to eat in 48 hours. Assuming that the worst is over, this only put me back one day… these kind of delays are built in to any Himalayan itinerary. No big deal really.

When we got down from Gokyo Ri this morning, I tried to eat lunch. I’ve had good luck with the Pizzas around here… We’re not in NYC but I’ve found that they are pretty easy to get down. Despite going out of my way to specifically say that I only wanted a cheese pizza, this one came with tunafish on it. The timing of this could not have been worse. Did I make fuss? Nope. I ate a few bites and went to bed.

I didn’t puke it up… so I got that going for me.

Ttunafish on a pizza is an abomination in the eyes of god. I’m sure it says that somewhere in Leviticus.

I’ve been warned that the next two nights might not have internet. Hopefully I’lll be back to my normal self for my next post.

Cheers.

I’ve been home for three weeks. The cold is finally going away. I still have very mild vertigo when I wake up, or perhaps more precisely: when I sit up from lying on my back. The vertigo lasts about 5 to 10 seconds and is then gone. There’s no nausea and I don’t feel it in the slightest when I’m up, but it does remind me that only a month ago I was as sick as I’ve ever been. I’m now skiing and hiking and soon to go climbing. I’m weak, but I’m on the upswing, and I’m looking forward to summer.

So what happened? There is no easy answer to this. I’ve had a handful of doctor appointments and consultations, including with some very experienced high altitude docs. What I had was probably just a viral cold that migrated into my vestibular system, which somehow triggered what is called “benign positional vertigo” (whoever came up with “benign” has a very dark sense of humor). No, this has never happened to me before. I’ve always been prone to motion sickness, and I’ve traditionally medicated myself when going on a boat, but this was something entirely new.

My symptoms aren’t textbook: nobody has yet answered why the vertigo mostly went away immediately upon descending to a lower altitude, nor does it explain my reduced level of consciousness which again went away immediately upon descent. The docs always ask if I have tinnitus which is commonly associated with vertigo. Of course my ears are ringing, and have been ever since that Who concert back in high school… are there any 61 year olds in America whose ears aren’t ringing?

The good news is that I probably didn’t have HACE. That’s the serious altitude illness that involves swelling of the brain. Apparently, if I had HACE it would have showed up on the MRI, and I’ve now had some of the best doctors in the country look at the MRI, and I’m deemed HACE free. I can also rule out a tumor and a worm in my brain. Phew.

It’s not over yet. I’m going to SLC next week to have a vertigo specialist take a look at me. We’ll see what they say. Unless they can find some pathology (which so far has not been found, beyond the simple sinus cold), the treatment for vertigo is time. So far that seems to be working. I’m feeling better every day. But it’s hard to grasp that only a month ago I wasn’t able to walk on my own 200 yards across level ground to a helipad.

Can I go back? Can I give it another try? Let me get back to you on that. Let’s see what the vertigo docs say. You know how when you recover from a cold, you pretty much forget how bad the cold was? Well, this isn’t like that. I’m a little shell shocked by how sick I was. The memory is still with me.

15000’ is not that high. I’ve probably been to that altitude at least two dozen times in my lifetime. I’ve always acclimatized well, especially compared to my partners. In this case, I never even had a headache, which is the number one symptom of any altitude illness. Obviously, I should be grateful that this happened at 15,000’ instead of 25,000’, but I would be even more grateful if it never happened in the first place. It’s all so humbling. I was still 4 days away from even reaching Base Camp. I had a long way to go. In Grand Teton perspective, it’s as if I was helicoptered out of the Meadows on my way up to the Lower Saddle. I wasn’t even close to the summit. Whenever I say this out loud, I can only laugh.

With that said, the summit window is starting this week. I won’t deny that it’s still burning inside me…

I paid for that forecast. Speaking of money, everybody asks if I’m going to get a refund. Does anybody know a good lawyer in Kathmandu to get my money back? In all seriousness, the money is gone. I don’t begrudge the operator – Shangri-La Treks – in the slightest. They had to set up base camp infrastructure, as well as camps on the upper mountain. The money was already spent. This is my third trip with this company, and they’ve always delivered. And in this case Global Rescue refused to fly me out (insurance companies only make money by saying “NO”), and after arguing with Global Rescue, Jiban just said I’m sending a helicopter now. That’s what I needed, and that’s what I got. Thank you Jiban. If I ever go back, I’ll go with you again. No doubt about it.

If….