Day 2 - E.B.C.
Monjo (9,300 Feet) to Namche Bazaar (11,300 Feet) - March 20th, 2010
Having enjoyed a leisurely morning, complete with an unremarkable bowl of banana porridge and cup of luke-warm black tea, we set out on the 4-hour uphill assault to Namche Bazaar. Resting only 2,000 feet above, the distance was relatively small but the unexpected roadblocks were not. Yaks! Slowly plodding their way around the narrow switchbacks, dozens of stinky, sluggish yaks created a virtually impassable barrier of backsides. Strapped with crude, wooden framed saddles and overloaded with provisions, about the only thing the yaks weren’t carrying, was regard for trekkers. One over zealous step by hikers could result in a painful kick to the shin, or worse, a yak bump down the steep embankment. Dawdling tour groups also added to the long line of congestion, snapping photos of nearly every trekking nuance at a pace passable by even the yaks.
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Thankfully, we discovered the “top-secret” Sherpa path! Much steeper and more precarious then the “tourist trail”, what we avoided in tourist and yak traffic, was more then made up in porter traffic. Huffing and puffing the entire way up, we pushed our unconditioned bodies to keep pace with the speedy Sherpa’s. Yes, our loads were exponentially lighter, shoes much sturdier and ascent assisted by walking sticks, but nonetheless, we kept pace with their adept speed. A huge accomplishment in its own right!
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Arriving via the Sherpa route caused us to miss the traditional entrance to the Namche township where trekkers are welcomed by the, “Namche Prayer Wheel Circuit”. As tradition has it, all trekkers must spin each of the 50 plus prayer wheels to receive the necessary good karma for a successful climbing expedition. Uh oh, hope the mountain god’s take our honest mistake into account and offer good luck anyways.
Namche itself is what many trekkers consider their last chance for civilization. A charming Sherpa village, Namche buzzes with porters, yaks, trek leaders and hopeful expedition participants. Not to mention, overpriced internet cafe’s, bakeries, and pizzeria’s. Every sign boasted the, “highest something or other” in the world. For instance, the “The Highest Pool Hall in the World”, or my belly's favorite, “The Highest Slice of Pie in the World.” Not exactly what I expected on the road to the top of the world.
Commercialization aside, Namche maintains one of the most immaculate cityscapes in the Everest Region. Calming hues of hunter green, rust red and cool blues welcome you to the city while shimmering prayer wheels and brightly colored shop advertisements paint to life an otherwise monotone hillside. Clinging to a steep hillside, columns of broken stone steps follow the hills gradient upwards from the city center, bisecting row after row of terraced cobble stone streets. The vista is completed by a semi-circle backdrop of snow-covered peaks separated by a deep valley below.
Namche itself is what many trekkers consider their last chance for civilization. A charming Sherpa village, Namche buzzes with porters, yaks, trek leaders and hopeful expedition participants. Not to mention, overpriced internet cafe’s, bakeries, and pizzeria’s. Every sign boasted the, “highest something or other” in the world. For instance, the “The Highest Pool Hall in the World”, or my belly's favorite, “The Highest Slice of Pie in the World.” Not exactly what I expected on the road to the top of the world.
Commercialization aside, Namche maintains one of the most immaculate cityscapes in the Everest Region. Calming hues of hunter green, rust red and cool blues welcome you to the city while shimmering prayer wheels and brightly colored shop advertisements paint to life an otherwise monotone hillside. Clinging to a steep hillside, columns of broken stone steps follow the hills gradient upwards from the city center, bisecting row after row of terraced cobble stone streets. The vista is completed by a semi-circle backdrop of snow-covered peaks separated by a deep valley below.
To allow for proper acclimatization, most guides recommend an extra day and night in Namche, but feeling fit, healthy and strong we decided to carry on the next morning.
Choosing the cheapest teahouse possible, we settled in for the evening. Little did we know our humble teahouse owner would be serving more then just Dal Bhat (rice and lentils) that night. A retired mountain guide himself, "Bob" (short for his extremely difficult Nepali name) served us a plan! A plan to get off what we termed, “The Everest Superhighway”, and onto the road less traveled! Unfolding a crisp new map, his eyes glinted to life and as if out of a movie he proclaimed, “The most incredible route will also be the most difficult…are you ready?” Confident albeit naïvely, we exclaimed, “YES!”
Choosing the cheapest teahouse possible, we settled in for the evening. Little did we know our humble teahouse owner would be serving more then just Dal Bhat (rice and lentils) that night. A retired mountain guide himself, "Bob" (short for his extremely difficult Nepali name) served us a plan! A plan to get off what we termed, “The Everest Superhighway”, and onto the road less traveled! Unfolding a crisp new map, his eyes glinted to life and as if out of a movie he proclaimed, “The most incredible route will also be the most difficult…are you ready?” Confident albeit naïvely, we exclaimed, “YES!”