The Path to Base Camp – Nepal

It’s quite simply one of the best treks in the world

My heart felt like a Tibetan gong, beating down the seconds to my last moments. I clutched the staircase’s handrails as tightly as my perspiring hands would allow and boarded the 19-per­son Twin Otter aircraft. There was no turning back; the infamous 35-minute flight from Kathmandu to Lukla was imminent. A bamboo hamper filled with cotton balls was shoved into my lap; I took two swabs and buried them deep in my ears as the aircraft accelerated.

Lukla’s Tenzing-Hillary Airport has one runway, which is used for both take offs and landings. The History Channel, along with countless other authorities, has dubbed it the most dangerous airport in the world. Upon arrival a pilot is received by an airstrip that slopes 12° upward and is only inches from the edge of a cliff. Once the pilot touches down, he or she has 527m to bring the plane to a stop before the airstrip reaches a near-vertical mountain wall. (By comparison, a Boeing 737 requires a minimum of 1,418m for a successful landing.) There are only two types of commercial aircraft capable of nego­tiating the short runway, and without radar or navigation equipment at Lukla, pilots rely on their line of sight to land. If clouds roll in unexpectedly, they’re flying blind, which is why if there’s any doubt about the weather, planes are grounded.

Our pilot earned our applause as our flying metal sarcoph­agus touched down safely. The first thing to do in Lukla was get our TIMS (Trekkers Information Management System) card and a Sagarmatha National Park entry permit, which my partner Sylvie and I did at the park’s registration booth, a short walk through the town. Two ‘missing person’ posters hung on the windows – trekkers who had simply disappeared. We had hired a porter to come with us on the trek, although in hind­sight we felt we would have been fine by ourselves.

My bag felt light despite being jam-packed with unwieldy winter clothing, camera equipment and extensive first-aid. The first day’s hike, starting at the relatively low altitude of 2,860m, snaked along an established path with tree-flanked foothills on one side and modest settlements with unassuming homesteads dotting the other. This was the undulating land­scape of the Dudh Kosi Valley, where countless frighteningly long single-stay steel suspension bridges guided us back and forth over the raging river below. There was congestion at these single-person-width bridges as villagers and herds of mules carrying goods from Lukla patiently waited their turn to cross. Most of the supplies arriving in Lukla are transported from Jiri on the backs of animals. Before Lukla airport was built, trekkers and mountaineers also had to hike from Jiri, adding more than a week to their already lengthy venture.

Unlike every other hiking trail I have tackled, the main pur­pose of the path from Lukla to Everest Base Camp is not recre­ational. Although hundreds of adventure-seeking trekkers use the route every month, it is firstly the highway linking remote Sherpa communities together. After being bashed by a porter’s 40kg load a couple of times, I quickly learnt trail etiquette – a porter always has the right of way. They get compensated based on the weight of their load and for how far it is trans­ported. Every item, no matter how insignificant, must be con­veyed in this manner: everything down to rolls of toilet paper and cans of Pringles must be supplied via arduous week-long backbreaking hauls.

Everest first revealed itself on the second day, after a bout of uphill switchbacks on the hike to Namche Bazaar. Called Sagarmatha in Nepalese and Chomolungma to Tibetans, the highest mountain on our planet sits at 8,848m above sea level – and the first glimpse of it made my spine tingle.

Namche Bazaar is a Sherpa village that acts as the main trade and administrative centre of the Solukhumbu region. When we arrived are looked for a teahouse. Teahouses are the only accommodation along the Everest Base Camp trail and are typically small, family-run lodges comprising basic two-bed dormitories, shared lavatories and a central gathering room that functions as both a reception area and a kitchen. All rooms have thin mattresses accompanied with meagre pillows and are barely illuminated with a single low-wattage light bulb. There are no power outlets and the crude window frames do a lacklustre job of blocking the sub-freezing nighttime gales. I was thankful I had rented a down jacket and a -20°C sleeping bag in Kathmandu.

At an altitude of 3,440m, the air at Namche Bazaar con­tains only 67% of the oxygen at sea level, and I quickly felt fatigued walking the vast network of stairs within the hilly settlement of 1,600 people. Most hikers spend two nights here to allow their bodies to acclimatise, ourselves included. It’s recommended to limit ascents to 300m a day to ward off alti­tude sickness, also known as acute mountain sickness (AMS), which can occur at altitudes as low as 2,400m. I also took the prescription medication Diamox, which increases the rate at which the body acclimatises. Other advice includes drink­ing plenty of water (five-plus litres a day), avoiding alcohol, getting plenty of rest and climbing high during the day but descending to a lower altitude to sleep. But for extreme AMS, and the potentially fatal HAPE and HACE, the only cure is to descend immediately. Helicopters in the Khumbu Valley make hourly emergency evacuations, speckling the clear blue skies as they caravan the ill to nearby hyperbaric chambers for treat­ment, until midday when they’re grounded for poor visibility.

As I trekked higher and deeper into the Himalayas, the environment transformed. The vegetation disappeared as snow-capped massifs consumed me. Trees no longer concealed the mountains’ weathered exteriors, parallel striations hinting at their ferocious geological history. The majestic vistas were ornamented with mani stones carved with Tibetan Buddhist mantras and with strings of colourful Buddhist prayer flags, which fluttered as the gales delivered the believer’s prayers to the mountain gods. The clanking of cowbells cut through the wind giving last minute notice of passing yaks, the region’s well-adapted work animal.

In Dingboche, on our sixth day of the trek, I attempted an acclimatisation hike up Nagaijun Hill (5,050m). A recent drought had left much of the Himalayan soil scorched dry, and the loose ground made traversing the peak hazardous. I was glad to return to the safety of our teahouse where I savoured a pot of Coca tea – a keepsake from previous travels in Peru said to aid the prevention of AMS. I slept well after gorging on a large portion of dal bhat, Nepal’s national dish of rice and cooked lentils, and woke the next morning eager to continue.

After stopping in the scant settlement of Dughla (4,620m) for a small bowl of garlic soup, a local remedy to ward off AMS, we scrambled up a rocky slope for 45 minutes before reaching the Dughla Pass. Here there were dozens of tombstones com­memorating people who had perished on Mount Everest over the years. Among the names was Scott Fischer, one of 12 who died during the 1996 disaster. I had just finished reading Jon Krakauer’s book Into Thin Air, a chilling account of the events that led to the largest catastrophe on Mount Everest prior to the 2015 earthquake, which killed 24 people at base camp and over 8,000 people in the rest of the country.

We didn’t see any signs of the earthquake along the path, although we did see a large void on the side of a mountain from an avalanche. Tourists have started returning for the 2016 trekking season although the volume has not returned to pre-earthquake levels – it didn’t feel busy along the trails, apart from at the last two lodges where there were only a few to choose from.

High in the mountains where towering peaks obstruct direct sunlight, temperatures plunge well before official sunset. The evening before my push to Everest Base Camp was spent in Lobuche (4,910m), huddled around an antiquated furnace in the centre of the dining area. Staff members routinely picked up patties of yak dung drying in the corner and threw it in the poorly ventilated steel incinerator. Conventional fuels are too expensive for nonessential trivialities such as heating. I learnt that the transportation fees for a propane tank accounted for up to 80% of its total cost. This information further cemented why food was getting increasingly expensive. At the teahouse before reaching base camp two hard-boiled eggs cost me US$5 – quite expensive when you compare that to the flat US$2 fee for a night’s stay at a teahouse.

By 6am I was en route to Gorak Shep (5,164m), the last settlement before reaching Everest Base Camp. Even wearing three pairs of socks and two pairs of gloves, my extremities were numb and the mere act of reaching for my water bottle was too painful. My lips had been perpetually chapped for the last four days and my face ached from windburn.

We stowed our bags at Gorak Shep and advanced towards Everest Base Camp (5,364m). I was glad to have left my hiking poles behind, as I needed both hands to negotiate the un­predictable boulders and ice chunks on the path. The final 15 minutes to the camp were breathtaking. A small manmade stairway led over a frozen lake on to the Khumbu Glacier, which base camp is on top of. Reaching it felt a big achieve­ment, because we know that so many people turn back due to altitude sickness, coldness or fatigue. But it also gave us greater respect for those who climb the entire mountain. Reading Into Thin Air had also made the experience much more ‘real’ – about 10% of the book is about the journey from Lukla up to base camp.

I spent a while taking photographs of mountains, yellow tents, prayer flags and the famous Khumbu Icefall, before descending back to Gorak Shep.

The next morning we were out by 5.30am to tackle Kala Patthar (5,645m), a prominence known for getting excellent views of Everest – Mount Everest cannot be seen from its own base camp. I summited just as the sun began to shine through.

I was standing at what seemed like the tip of the world with Everest, Lhotse, Nuptse, Changtse and dozens other peaks in clear view. At this height the air contained only half the oxygen found at sea level.

Over the next three days we trekked back to Lukla, stop­ping to rest in Pangboche and Namche Bazaar. With the risk of AMS to our backs there was nothing impeding our pro­gress as we descended a vertical mile in altitude before our first night’s rest. We took breaks at the numerous Gompas (monasteries) along the mountains’ edges and reflected on our achievement. I spun the prayer wheels and called out “Namaste” to passing hikers, wishing them good fortune as they embarked on the hike of a lifetime.

Let’s Go – Base Camp

How to Get There. Aim for Kathmandu, the capital of Nepal, where Nepalese visas can be obtained on arrival. From Kathmandu, there are two starting points to access the Everest Base Camp trail. The fastest option is to fly to Lukla. Allow a day or two before and after the hike in case your flight gets postponed because of the weather. From Lukla, the out-and-back hike takes 12 to 14 days for a casual hiker, but can be tailored to your fitness level. Regardless of fitness it is discouraged to ascend more than 300m per day.

The longer and cheaper option is to take a bus from Kathmandu to the town of Jiri where you can start hiking. This option will add at least seven days to your trek. People generally choose this option as a way to cut back on expenses, but it’s also the route that Hillary and Tenzing would have taken over 60 years ago.

Planning for the Hike. Anyone in good physical health can do this hike, although previous hiking experience is recommended. While there are a few stretches of the trail that contain challenging ascents, taking things slowly and breaking often at teahouses will help. Expect anywhere from four to six hours of hiking a day, increasing to more like eight hours a day on the return hike.

There are many companies that can organise a trip for you, but if, like us, budget is a priority over time, it’s best to wait until you arrive in Kathmandu before booking – organizing a tour in your home country will cost two or three times more than booking locally. Most tours include transport, a guide or porter, lodging and food. Make sure to check out a few tour agencies, as there are so many to choose from, to compare rates. And haggle – no matter what you are told, nothing is a ‘fixed price’ in this part of the world. If you book a porter/ guide remember that you are their em­ployer so you should ensure that they have proper equipment and insurance.

Food and lodging are not planned in advance, even during the high season. There are countless teahouses to choose from. Food on the trail is expensive compared to Nepalese standards but still affordable by western standards.

When to Go. The best times to hike to Everest Base Camp are March to May and September to December. The lower altitudes get very hot in May, just before the monsoon season.

What to Take. Pack light, as the altitude will make you tire quickly. Try to keep your pack under 10kg to 15kg. Thermal underwear, a fleece and a down jacket are essential. Bring synthetic or wool shirts to help regulate body heat – cotton is useless once it gets wet. Boots are best, although some people wear hiking shoes – if you do this make sure they’ve got good grip. Sandals or flip flops to rest your feet in after a day of hiking are a relief.

A-20°C sleeping bag is crucial, espe­cially during the last couple of nights. Also pack gloves, a hat and warm socks. Polarised sunglasses will help reduce the glare on the snow, while lip balm/Vaseline will protect your lips and face from the dry wind. You will have to rely on your own toilet paper and toiletries, though these can be purchased in Namche Bazaar if you forget them.

Plasters for minor scrapes and blis­ters are a good idea. To reduce costs and environmental impact, pick up a pack of water purification tablets in Kathmandu. Also tuck a few of your favourite teabags in your pack – a pot of hot water at a tea­house is much cheaper than a pot of tea. A few more essentials include hiking poles for steep ascents, strong sunscreen, a book and plenty of cash.

Talk to your doctor about Diamox (acetazolamide), which is medication known to speed up the acclimatisation process, if you are worried about or have a history of alti­tude sickness.