DAY 6
(March 24th, 2010) - Dughla to Gorek Shep 15,300 - 16,800 feet
(March 24th, 2010) - Dughla to Gorek Shep 15,300 - 16,800 feet
Towering over our small, insignificant teahouse the main mass of the Khumbu Glacier revealed our next leg of the journey - an almost vertical ascent over rocky screy and loose stone. Vulnerable to avalanches, rain, high winds and incessant foot traffic, the path is ever changing and the grade, ever more challenging.
Waking bright and early, we hoped for a clear assault to the top. Wrong. A long line of trekkers had already begun sidewinding up it’s face. Within the first hours of daybreak, the main artery leading up the rocky screy was hopelessly clogged by exhausted and oxygen deprived human roadblocks. Time to go off-roading…again!
Waking bright and early, we hoped for a clear assault to the top. Wrong. A long line of trekkers had already begun sidewinding up it’s face. Within the first hours of daybreak, the main artery leading up the rocky screy was hopelessly clogged by exhausted and oxygen deprived human roadblocks. Time to go off-roading…again!
It was on this ascent, that I determined my climbing style…like a car. If you leave the engine running, it fires up easy. If you turn it off, however, a few chugs are required to turn over. In other words, why allow your legs to stiffen with loads of rest stops? Capitalize on your muscles warmed, conditioned state and keep pressing on. Slowing when necessary but maintaining a forward advance at all times.
Left, right, left, right…shut up knee’s...shut up back…shut up lungs, we’re almost there! |
Victoriously cresting onto the glacial moraine, we took in the grand site. Extending north for miles through the wide Khumbu valley, this rock and crag strewn path became the physical means to E.B.C but it was the thick web of tattered prayer flags and small monuments that offered a glimpse into the spiritual path. Erected in honor of beloved Sherpa’s and mountaineers who perished on their treks, the power and force of Everest resonated deeper then ever before.
Just beyond the monuments we began a slow descent off the glacier moraine and into the forlorn Khumbu Valley paralleling it. It was here, that the real temperature dichotomies of Everest were realized. High-altitude sun countered by blistering cold Himalayan wind, movement induced body heat jousted by rapidly cooling sweat, Hot, Cold, Hot, Cold, you’re in a constant state of mountain menopause. Removing everything one minute only to pile it on minutes later. There’s no happy medium. Just extra crispy or still frozen.
Our next checkpoint village, Lobuche, was pretty uninspiring. A hodgepodge of simple lodges scattered along a dusty, desolate valley, we determined teahouse offerings would reflect the same qualities. Instead, we dined on large boulders just adjacent to the village. Munching away on a few granola bars and our last pack of beloved glucose biscuits an unexpected lunch guest arrived. Maintaining a dead stare on the 3 trespassers for the duration of our meal, the most exciting part of Lobuche came in the form of a large filthy yak. Whether he was curious, territorial or both, this over-confident yak was about to meet his match…Clayton Durrant. Entering into an epic staring competition, Clay slowly inched closer to the unmoving, unblinking yak until after a few tense minutes the yak surrendered. Snorting loudly he turned his large caboose to us and traipsed off.
Our next checkpoint village, Lobuche, was pretty uninspiring. A hodgepodge of simple lodges scattered along a dusty, desolate valley, we determined teahouse offerings would reflect the same qualities. Instead, we dined on large boulders just adjacent to the village. Munching away on a few granola bars and our last pack of beloved glucose biscuits an unexpected lunch guest arrived. Maintaining a dead stare on the 3 trespassers for the duration of our meal, the most exciting part of Lobuche came in the form of a large filthy yak. Whether he was curious, territorial or both, this over-confident yak was about to meet his match…Clayton Durrant. Entering into an epic staring competition, Clay slowly inched closer to the unmoving, unblinking yak until after a few tense minutes the yak surrendered. Snorting loudly he turned his large caboose to us and traipsed off.
The final leg of Day 6 put us back atop the glacial moraine and with it, TONS of rock. Up and down, up and down… my feet were screaming. “Solid ground” they moaned but only boulders, pebbles, and opportunities to turn your ankles replied. Thank goodness for Swiss craftsmanship. The couple hundred dollars spent on LOWA boots was money well spent! Not to mention the fabulous trekking poles my parents, oops I mean "Santa", gave me for Christmas. Both items emerged this trips saving grace! |
After only a few hours of this tedious section, my hope that each rocky apex would be our last, completely withered. I was in state of trekkers auto-pilot. Just keep moving Reg, keep moving. Cresting what must have been our hundredth stony ascent of the day, Gorak Shep suddenly materialized, an oasis in a sea of rock and gravel. Rubbing my disbelieving eyes, the vision had to be affirmed by both Clay and Steve before I could deem it real. Gorak Shep (16,800 feet) our final nights camp before reaching ground zero, Everest Base Camp herself.
Formed by years of avalanches and glacial movement, Gorek Shep is strategically sandwiched between the Khumbu Glacier and a small mountain named Kala Pataar – an optional climb for the best view of Everest. Named after the “gorak”, a red-billed cough bird commonly found in these high altitudes, Gorak Shep literally translates to “dead raven”. Comforting thought, right?
Formed by years of avalanches and glacial movement, Gorek Shep is strategically sandwiched between the Khumbu Glacier and a small mountain named Kala Pataar – an optional climb for the best view of Everest. Named after the “gorak”, a red-billed cough bird commonly found in these high altitudes, Gorak Shep literally translates to “dead raven”. Comforting thought, right?
Descending into the forlorn valley we began the daily task of seeking accommodation. Four little teahouses inhabited the plane and in typical A.D.D. style, we had to analyze each one before making a decision. Room prices are not the huge cost factor up here, but amenity prices are! Considerably higher then elsewhere on the journey, prices can soar higher then the mountain themselves. It pays to shop around.
Frugal to the core, it’s not easy paying a lot for so little but we respected the reason for these inflated fees. After all, how do you think provisions, building materials and gear is transported up here? Helicopters and airplanes cannot fly at such altitudes so the only way to transport provisions is the same way Sherpas have done for years, by foot. Boxes of canned goods, baskets of produce, propane tanks, bottled water, and of course beer are the “easier” products to transport. But how about metal ladders, thick wooden doors and cement for new building projects? It’s very common to see a 14-year old boy, weighing no more than a box of beer himself, balancing a 50-pound door on his back while maneuvering up slippery screy in one strap Addidas sandals. Or, an old man with three metal ladders poised on his backside balanced and supported by a small piece of fabric tied around his forehead. Seeing what these amazing men and women carry on a daily basis is enough to leave you happily paying 7 dollars for rice and lentils.
Frugal to the core, it’s not easy paying a lot for so little but we respected the reason for these inflated fees. After all, how do you think provisions, building materials and gear is transported up here? Helicopters and airplanes cannot fly at such altitudes so the only way to transport provisions is the same way Sherpas have done for years, by foot. Boxes of canned goods, baskets of produce, propane tanks, bottled water, and of course beer are the “easier” products to transport. But how about metal ladders, thick wooden doors and cement for new building projects? It’s very common to see a 14-year old boy, weighing no more than a box of beer himself, balancing a 50-pound door on his back while maneuvering up slippery screy in one strap Addidas sandals. Or, an old man with three metal ladders poised on his backside balanced and supported by a small piece of fabric tied around his forehead. Seeing what these amazing men and women carry on a daily basis is enough to leave you happily paying 7 dollars for rice and lentils.
We chose the teahouse on the hill with a great view of the valley. The rooms were separated by thin plywood sheets and the windows leaked cold air but the common room was spacious and welcoming. Too bad the insolation didn’t match the jovial mood within. Brrrr! Wrapped in my down sleeping bag, I claimed a chair next to the yak dung fire early on. Lodging my bare, frozen tootsies just below the aged stove, the warmth soon rose through my body. Indulging in yet another plate of “bottomless” dal ghat along with a famous Gorek Shep apple pie, I was full, happy and ready for bed.
Curling up on the frost bitten mattress, the sleep my body so desperately needed was robbed by the paucity of atmosphere. Providing only half the oxygen as at sea-level, a “good nights sleep” was hard to come by. |