Trekking Nepal: The Khumbu & Kala Pattar

Kathmandu is crazy, but more of a fun crazy than a scary crazy. I was finishing up purchasing some last minute supplies and ended up leaving my ATM card in the machine, great. I called the number provided by the security guard (every ATM machine in these countries has private security) and a few hours later the machine's owner showed up and retrieved my card for me. So I had everything needed for the mountains & decided to go out to the airport early to purchase my ticket back to Delhi prior to my friends arrival... problem, the Kathmandu airport doesn't let non-ticketed passengers inside their airport, all ticketing is handled at the airline offices in the city or online, so I spent the next two hours making friends with the Metropolitan Police. They taught me more Nepalese & wrote down some "must-see" sights for me to check out when I get back from the mountains. Finally Scott Jablow & Andrew Gough arrived, I had been led through the normal waiting spot ahead of the rest of the taxi drivers and hotel touts so when they made it through immigration I was waiting with a cabbie and direction to our Hotel. After a short but exciting cab ride we made it to the Thamel District, exchanged some money & made it back to our suite for some drinks & reacquainting... we got a few hours sleep but it was an early cab ride back to the airport for our flight to Lukla. Once checked in we took a bus to our prop plane, loaded up and took off for 9200 feet. According to the pilot when we were seven minutes out our plane turned around since they couldn't see the runway, I guess this is a normal occurrence. We came back to the Kathmandu airport, chilled for a few hours before they canceled that flight, switched us to the next morning & after collecting our baggage it was another cab ride back to the hotel. We checked back in, found some lunch and after a nap wandered around an area called Durbar Square. (Considered one of those "must-see" attractions in Kathmandu.) Once the sun went down we caught a rickshaw (with the three of us in the carriage, that poor kid) back and passed out by 9pm since we had another early flight attempt the next morning.

Now Day One: After the same airport ritual I had a front row mountain-view seat in our ride up into the Himalayas, it was gorgeous although I wasn't sure exactly what peaks I was seeing. After 45 minutes and the craziest airstrip I've ever touched down on

(it's on the side of a cliff and uphill, probably only 100 yards long) we were in Lukla gathering our bags and heading to a tea house for some breakfast & repacking. Once on the trail we had our first experiences with Yak's, an animal very similar to the cow but with more dexterity & potential anger. (I hear, one of the trail warnings was that we were to always pass uphill since the yak has a tendency to check hikers off the side with their horns or massive loads.) The beginning was simple, mostly downhill since Lukla is situated on the side of a mountain and most of our trekking was in the Dudh Kosi Valley. (Kosi means river) This was also our first impressions of the local Himalayans, (a.k.a. the Sherpa People) who have the worldwide reputation as the toughest climbers that can tolerate the heaviest loads. They did not disappoint, because of the lack of funds and supplies in these higher regions they actually wear a strap connected from the bottom of their basket or makeshift framework around their forehead, an interesting method that contributes to some of the most developed neck muscles I've ever seen. This combined with the shoulder straps is the system that has been used for decades to deliver supplies to climbers and their supporting villages all the way up to over 18,000 feet. Anyway, down and up and down and up, winding our way through the small villages, across bombproof suspension bridges made for overly burdened yak herds and their handlers while spinning Buddhist prayer wheels for luck and staring up the valley at Kusum Kangguru, (20,889 feet) an amazing peak covered by snow reflecting the morning sun.

There are so many differences here, details only a culture this old and established could develop into a style that can always be added to, but never look unfinished. Huge boulders would mark important areas, and each of those boulders no matter what size would have carved & painted what I'm assuming Buddhist lettering hopefully protecting or blessing whoever might pass by. Broken stone tablets would line the path dividing herds from walkers, and prayer flags... I can't even begin to tell you how many of these colorful Tibetan banners were tied to the trees, roof tops & bridges everywhere we looked. It was unreal & overdone, but not in a trashy way, more like an overly protective way which in a range as serious as the Himalayas can never be a bad thing. After about three hours we passed through Phakding, our original first nights lodging but since we were now a day behind schedule we decided to push through to our second nights accommodation and location of our first rest day, Namchee Bazaar. It was far but we felt great, Jablow had over packed so we spread his load around and made a push past the gorgeous rock faces with their thread-like waterfalls through an ancient pine forest into the town of Mondzo. (A place we were warned not to go past on our first day since the final uphill to Namche is a bitch.) Anyway, we did and paid our 1000 rupee toll (just over $13) into the Sagarmatha National Park winding further up the valley and across a long bridge to the start of the final uphill where two rivers converged. I'm not gonna lie, this killed me, it was the end of a nine hour eleven mile day hovering around the 10,000 foot mark and my steps were small. Additionally every time I stopped gnats would swarm all over me and they bite! So the gnats would whip me on as I followed my friends slowly up the mountain's switchbacks for over 2300 feet of elevation gain till I finally rounded a corner and saw we had made it near the top. We saw a large guesthouse near the center of the village called the Khumbu Lodge and found three beds for just over $1 a piece, the catch is for that fantastic discount they expect you to eat there, which was fine since the weather was turning and the smells from the kitchen were intoxicating to our starving stomachs. We ordered the Yak Sizzlers, a cast-iron skillet with strips of yak steak, noodles & veggies brought out piping hot, it was awesome and when we asked if this was the type of dinners to be expected along the way they told us that the meat any higher can't be relied upon, bummer but a good warning none-the-less. We met several climbers who had just summitted, one was 17 named Johnny from Malibu, we were impressed and spent some time chatting about his last summit in Australia, (He's about to finish the seven highest summits on the seven continents) and what's been going on in the outside world since he's been on Everest for the past month and a half. That nights sleep was solid. The next morning my co-trekkers tried to wake me for a morning rain hike, I wasn't in, I needed some good food and chill time. During that rainy rest day we boiled water since the prices on bottled water were rising with the elevation, purchased some "waterproof" pants since the weather seemed to be leaning that way and had another great dinner before an early night to bed.
The next morning (Day 3) we had some breakfast, packed for a wet walk since the rain hadn't let up & stashed some extra gear we figured was not needed for our trek at the Khumbu Lodge since we knew we would be coming back that way. We were doing quite a bit of uphill this day & with all the rain came what looked like rivers of diarrhea from all of the yak dung liquefying on the trail... so glad I had decent boots with me. Even with the weather we got some decent views while traversing the valleys through a rhododendron forest and climbing another steep hill to Thyangboche, that nights destination four hours from Namchee at 12,687 feet. We found some cheap beds at the Thyangboche Guest House, warmed up by the yak dung stove with some mint tea & RA RA Noodles and spent the night drying all of our gear that had gotten soaked on the way up. During the evening our host (Lhakpa) directed us to the local monastery to watch a ceremony that was supposed to help the weather clear, higher elevations were still getting snow and this was messing with the yearly crop, it was an interesting mixture of monks praying and playing instruments. We went to bed with our own prayers that the weather would clear and around 5am we were not disappointed! There it was, straight north up the valley Mount Everest was visible to us for the 1st time! We packed our bags and got on the trail wanting to take full advantage of this break in the weather as quickly as possible.


It's now Day 4 and we were able to get some great pictures, the yak trains were moving past at regular intervals and we couldn't stop staring to the east at Ama Dablam, (22,493 feet) considered one of the world's most beautiful mountains... it has a very unique shape which changes significantly depending on where your looking from. We also passed many trekkers & climbers taking advantage of the weather break and descending along the Imja Khola River until we came within sight of a mountain I'd only ever really read about, Lhotse (27,890 feet) which we knew dominated the valley of our next destination. Once we crossed that river we ascended to the Snow Lion Lodge in Dingboche at 14,272 feet. Mingma was our host, we were the only inhabitants of her establishment and we threw our stuff down in a triple before ordering some food & taking a nap. We were getting up there and waking up meant a dry throat and minor headache which in turn meant dehydration due to elevation, time for dinner and lemon tea, it seemed to solve our problems. We made it another early night since Mingma had warned us that the weather would be turning bad again and if we wanted a view of the "big one" we might want to fore go the acclimation day and push forward, strange advice from someone who had no customers and seemed to enjoy our company, but she was a Buddhist Sherpani and we figured it best to heed her advice.

Day 5 started out overcast, but we pushed forward up the valley after a nice breakfast of apple pancakes. Our trail started past a few "Chortens" - Buddhist shrines on ridge tops seemingly built to watch over things. We traversed the Khumba Valley as a storm moved in and dumped mild snow, passed through the Yak Herders Village of Dusa and then dropped down to the main trail which crossed the glacial torrent (a rippin' creek) near the town of Dughla. Since the weather was turning for the worse we stopped into another tea house for some, and potatoes, then prepared for the more serious weather which we would be dealing with on our way to the next village. We hiked up a moraine, which is basically a random rocky creek bed created by the receding glacier, but at this point it was in white-out conditions and a creek had formed in the main trail. At the top were many memorials to lost Sherpas & climbers, the most famous one (that I'm aware of) being Scott Fischer who died in the 1996 disaster portrayed in Jon Krakauer's book "Into Thin Air," my first inspiration towards the Himalayas. After some chill time we progressed through the valley as the weather cleared and we had our first real experience with that thin air, or lack of atmosphere. Scott had been the only one vigilant against the harsh UV rays reflection off of the snow but Andrew & I’s noses both saw some sun. Along the way, since the melt was on and the snow was over (for now) I started to see some of the various wildlife as well as Pumori, (23,494 feet) the peak that towers over our eventual elevation goal of Kala Pattar. Additionally it seemed the Sherpas loads kept getting larger as we moved up the valley, this guy was taking a break every five minutes or so.

With plenty of daylight left we stumbled into Lobuche, almost another 2000 feet above our previous tea house at 16,175 feet… we had had the Sherpa Lodge recommended to us so we landed there for some more Ra Ra Noodles, Lemon Tea & what was turning into our daily nap. I was surprisingly refreshed when woken up for dinner which eventually turned into chatting with other trekkers about the Everest Marathon the next day, potential upper mountain conditions & surprisingly the regularity & consistency of bowel movements. (Yes, I guess these things do become general discussions among men AND women when over 4000 meters.) That night turned into our coldest nights sleep yet, I was very happy to have my down bag with me.

Day 6, we woke up semi-early to an incredible morning, Nuptse, the eastern cousin of Everest at 25,791 feet, was glorious. The sun was out and it was the 56th anniversary of Tenzing Norgay Sherpa and Sir Edmund Hillary's ascent of Mount Everest. (May 29, 1953) First thing we pumped water, but the water we found had a fuel-ee smell so we searched for "their" source and discovered it... there was no aroma which was an improvement I guess? No worries. Next I snapped some shots since the air quality was clearer than I've ever seen until the sun was fully up, ordered a pot of coffee with our breakfast & thought about continuing although officially today was supposed to be another rest/acclimation day. While waiting the marathon started running by, these guys are amazing, it had been 50 minutes since they'd left Base Camp (running down) and it was going to take us at least an additional six hours to ascend to that same spot! Later than usual (11:30am) but with a gorgeous day spread out before us & things seeming to run smoothly we decided to make the attempt on our final base camp, two hours north up and down ridges competing with yaks for trail space and forcing our lungs to breath the thinnest air we've ever hiked in, it was intense, and surreal, I'll never forget it. We knew that once along the Khumbu Glacier and into the valley at the base of (barely visable at the time in the clouds) Kala Pattar, our summit trail was waiting, and we were ready to summit whenever the weather offered the most likely view of Chomolungma. (The Tibetan name for Everest) We descended into Gorek Shep and checked into the Buddha Lodge, the highest place any of us have ever slept at 17,008 feet, and since the rooms were directly above the stove and warm we did just that after a small hike wandering this three teahouse village so close to the roof of the world while listening to the avalanches falling off of Nuptse.

NO REST DAYS, NO PROBLEM, mostly, I mean headaches are normal so if that's all that happens and we accomplish our goals does it really matter? I guess we shall see, that night I drank more Lemon Tea with a light dinner and passed out around 8pm.

It was Day 7, 4:30 am and was already starting to get light out. Gough was waiting at the base of the trail before 5am, Jablow & I met him there, it was clear and promising and looking like an amazing day. The three people ahead of us on the trail stopped at the first saddle, we powered through them since icey snow or not, we were getting up this supposed walk-up conditions trail weather permitting or not. Two hours later and my boots only slipped when I was busy staring at the amazing black pyramid called Sagarmatha by the Nepalese, and Mount Everest by the World. (29,028 feet) It's by far the highest and most windblown causing it to stick out from whichever direction it's being viewed... brilliant. I saw a brief cloud threaten to cover and sprinted to the summit of Kala Pattar, (18,448 feet) it nearly killed me on two accounts: Sea level dwellers should not run over 18,000 feet; and the western edge is a shear drop which thank the Buddhists, is well marked by prayer flags and stacked rocks. I shot some video and took way too many pictures as usual, high-fived my friends and enjoyed the hell out of the next hour or so. It was only the three of us on this summit with the most glorious sunrise over a mountain range I've ever witnessed, and we lived it up. Pumori, Nuptse, Llotse, Everest, all the great ones right there in my face. I knew this would be amazing but the shear magnitude of their presence was overwhelming in the most impressive way possible. As soon as someone else ascending came into view we started our descent, the one time I wished I had some sort of mountaineering protection on the entire trip - it was icey and my boots were worn smooth from years on SoCal rock, but I made it down with no problems and back to the Buddha Lodge for PB & Honey Pancakes.

OK then! Two hour nap, we were on a fucking mission to get to base camp and back before the weather closed in, it wasn’t looking good. Base camp was a four to six hour round-trip on rough terrain, right on, it was not easy especially at 18,000 feet. For those of you that have read my blog from New Zealand’s Mount Cook/Hooker Glacier area you’ll remember that I was in this situation before: Sometimes trails aren’t perfect, we ran into some acquaintences (Paula & Al, who just happen to be from New Zealand as well) and they warned us that they had just witnessed a rock fall (small avalanche) from above the trail hit a yak, no shit, we saw the blood on the rocks and everything! So of course we were very careful to always have an escape route should a boulder decide to drop onto the trail or further down onto the ice. Who would have known such a popular route could be so treacherous, we made it onto the glacier with no problems.
We passed the lower camp and made our way to the icefall, we were all draggin’ and by some miracle three plastic chairs materialized… we made good use of them while staring at the Khumba Icefall and the impending storm. After chatting with some local guides that seemed to be living up there we started down, and so did the snow. It got pretty thick so we made sure to stay close through the “danger zone” and after two hours and some swampy trails we made it back to our Lodge for some warming up & dinner with the Kiwi’s which we were now fairly chummy with but for some reason I never got their email address...

Anyway, the next morning was rough, we hadn't really gotten much sleep due to the headaches so we got our shit together to move down. It was crappy out, no summit views for anyone that day, and definitely not a time I'd choose to hike because, well, basically it started as a wet blizzard that tapered to a thick cloud, over four hours, down what it had taken us two days to ascend, our goal was Pheriche (13,911 feet) - somehow I was mostly dry at the end, but because we had come down so fast I was really sore for the first time. I think moving up so quickly numbed my nerves so physically I felt fine, as soon as they were bathed once again in o2 I was hurting, but the Himalayan Hotel, a decent grilled cheese and a nap made things quite better. This place, although we didn't stay very long, was classy and tasty, twas a shame the room was so cold even for a triple. We hung around the dung furnace till we hoped the headaches would stay mellow and made it an early night. It had cleared so we had high hopes of the next days conditions.

Day 9 WAS gorgeous, I was actually motivated to purify water and get the party started. I ordered some Chipati Bread, an onion & cheese omelette and with a little chili sauce had a makeshift burrito to start the day. We packed and got on the trail, again descending seemed like a healthy move and taking advantage of good weather is never really a bad idea, none of us were feeling more than muscle tendernous but it was "painfully" obvious we could use some advil or something to ease the aching. We crossed the creek from Pheriche (this is the view back up the valley)
and had an easy walk down until we came to the hill heading back up to Thyangboche, ugh. My motivation was a 60 year old woman carrying her 40 pound load and passing me, once to the top we could look back at where the black pyramid rose through the clouds, and the rest of the valley we had just walked through. We strolled back through the monk-filled village on our way to the edge of town for a lunch stop. (We still had some camper's meals to finish up before heading out of the mountains.) After that it was down a big hill, pump some water and up another huge hill passing sherpas carrying tremendous piles of wood on their backs. We had light loads so time seemed to be going fast, until the turn for Kumjung, a village a few thousand feet above Namche Bazaar with a good reputation that we felt we had time to check out. Serendipity placed us outside of the same Guest House our New Zealand friends were staying at, but we were on a mission to get down to Namche that night to collect our gear and be ready for a morning phone call to verify our flight the following day.
So on we hiked, up over the hill through a concert with some pretty hip house music if I do say so myself, (we were in the middle of Nowhere and anything short of Monk noises would have satisfied my thirst for something with more feeling, no offense Buddha!) over the hill and down into the Namche Valley, such a picturesque city from this vantage I had to include this shot.
So another hour or so down into the village known as the Sherpa Capital and again we run into a trail acquaintance, Mischa who we had helped out in Thyangboche seven days earlier with some Cipro, was wandering back from a monestary. So after checking back into the Khumbu Lodge and eating some dinner I joined him for a drink at the local watering hole. It was here I discovered Nepal has no drinking age, as twelve year olds played pool while I did whiskey shots. I didn't last long since we'd done nine I think? miles that day... so after a quick high altitude buzz I was in bed by 9pm.

The next day I wandered out early for some souvenirs and pastries since this area claims bakeries, the one I found open was nothing special and the trinkets I picked up to carry down the mountain have left a much more positive memory in my mind. We got a message through to Yeti Air with the help of Pemba (our host) and started our eleven mile descent to Lukla. I was too exhausted to enjoy this forest on my way up but I sure enjoyed it on the way down, the pine smell actually overtook the yak & mule scents and there were waterfalls drizzling down from the canyon walls to the west. Half way down we came to a small clearing and saw "it" one last time. Mount Everest with a pine frame from maybe fifty miles away? Here it is with mild zoom and no effects looking due north. Today the yaks seemed to have off but we saw plenty of mules and more sherpas carrying wood, I'm thinking their cold season is lasting longer than they had planned for. Eventually we came off the hill and hit the park gate, I snapped a picture of the trekker's totals board and it's ever increasing numbers, over 30,000 in 2008! Crazy, glad I'm getting up here before it turns into 60,000. A few more miles and we stopped for lunch, it took forever, over an hour and we were more tired when we walked out of there than ready for our last stage. At the top of one of the last hills we pumped some water since that was long gone and around 6:15pm (ten hours after we had started) we stumbled into Lukla and found the North Face Resort, an establishment recommended by our previous nights host. It was a nice place and we got a suite, some filling grub AND we got to DJ our dinner, it was a nice landing to what we knew would be a crazy morning takeoff.
5:30am Day 11, time for a makeshift breakfast burrito and an early flight, we were at the airport by 6:00 for our 7am flight. Security was as lax as ever, I actually had a switchblade in my carry-on, but whatever, I just wanted off this mountainside as safely as possible ;) Two planes came in from another airline before our green Yeti twin prop Otter strolled onto the tarmack... Yes! We loaded up and coasted off the cliff into the southern valleys of the Himalaya, 45 minutes later we were in Katmandu airport looking for a cab to take us back to Thamel, the Potala Guest House and our beds for some rest & refueling. We were back in Kathmandu two days earlier than scheduled and by my calculations some celebrations (as well as getting some laundry done) were in order... Rumdoodle here we come!

New Delhi, Agra, Varanasi & the Road to Kathmandu

Well that wasn't very long at all. I was home from Saturday night till Wednesday morning, never got a chance to sleep in since I had so much crap to take care of before I leave for this month. Again a sad goodbye at Lindbergh Field, seems this might be the last one for awhile since the rest of my summer travels will be with my lovely life-sharer.

The five hour flight to Newark "flew" by, a small nap, some reading and a new game I've been playing with myself when I get a window seat: Guess what state your over - I'm good till the Midwest, after that who the hell knows. In Newark I had over a four hour layover, so I considered going into the City since it's cheap and quick, but opted to get a shoe shine, make some phone calls and enjoy a few beers. I also did some extensive shopping for headphones, they broke on the SD to Newark plane so I figured it would be important that I replace prior to the fourteen hour flight I was waiting for. The best I found was $40, and $80 for the kind I like (normally $20 at Sam Goody) - anyway, I said F it and decided to make the trip with only one channel working since India is well known for its cheap electronics. When I got to the gate I realized that my flight was full, great, I had a window and planned on purposefully dehydrating myself so I wouldn't need too many bathroom breaks. The plane was 90% Indians, quite a few large families and the two gents I was sitting with had "people" in all parts of the plane. It was good I had the window, after watching "Bedtime Stories" I passed out for nine hours, woke up with two hours left, had some breakfast and landed. After a Swine Flu check & Customs my Hotel had a driver with my name on a sign waiting to bring me to the RAK International Hotel... that was the first time I'd had that treatment, I felt special.

So nobody follows traffic rules in India, just like Thailand but with more people & it seemed more construction. Also cows are sacred so they might just wander into the street when they feel like it. When we got to my area of town, Pajar Ganj, they were, and it was hilarious. I got checked into my deluxe suite, wandered to the rooftop patio for some beers & made friends with Jim, Richard & Erin. They were very helpful since they had been around India for much longer and seemed to have it dialed in, I figured it would work out like this but it's always nice to have confirmation to what had just been suspicions for the past few months.
The next morning I woke early and wandered up the street to the train station, bought my ticket ($1.80) to Agra (home of the Taj Majal) for the next day and found those headphones for $1.50 at some corner shop - on the way back to my hotel some guy noticed my Tevas were falling apart, I knew that. I had actually planned to find another pair along the way but this guy sewed & glued them so well that I think I'll get another year out of them. ($3, sweet) I had some breakfast, an onion & cheese omelet with toast and joined Richard the German for some Delhi Sightseeing. (Sidebar: most Indians are vegetarian, after seeing the way some of the meat is handled in the markets I've opted to be vegetarian as well.) We wandered toward the shopping district which also has some nice parks, Connaught Place, and he handled some errands while I checked some travel schedules on the web. (Something to note: Security in this country is everywhere, even to enter a park you go through a metal detector & have your bag searched. They didn't seem to care much about me but it seems they are truly trying to prevent terrorist attacks in public places.) After that we grabbed lunch and wandered an underground Bazaar, I'm looking for a nice light pair of pants, this place is HOT! Than we caught an Auto-Rickshaw (same thing as a tuk-tuk in Thailand) across town to the Red Fort, a military stronghold originally meant to protect Old Delhi, now an archaeological society tourist attraction. We wandered this during the hottest part of the day and eventually made it into the heart of Old Delhi, the craziest bazaar of them all where it seems a large amount of the world's imports & exports originate, I still didn't find any pants. Next stop was the largest mosque in India, Jama Masjid, and it lived up to its reputation. We lounged on the huge stairway in the shade of this enormous place of worship until we figured out our next stop, Raj Ghat. We took a bike-rickshaw about 20 minutes towards the river to this simple square platform of black marble where Gandhi was cremated following his assassination in 1948... it had an enclosed eternal flame and a ton of observers filed in while we were there, these peeps really love their Gandhi. Eventually we caught another ride back to our neighborhood, these little old guys sure can pedal some of the worst maintained rickshaws I've ever encountered. (If I had an allen wrench and some grease I would have hooked his ass up with a tuneup.) Anyway, after some back alley navigation skills, (Richard also carries a compass everywhere he goes) we found our hotel, I grabbed my 3rd shower of the day and passed out (unexpectedly, from all the sun) for three hours. That evening I had a late dinner, found Richard again and since I was leaving for Agra in the morning we decided to find a bar. Surprisingly Delhi doesn't have a thriving nightlife like every other large city I've been in, but we found the Green Chille Lounge and had a few. We met some folks and after the six of us got quite hammered together Mike, (a Punjabi born Canadian) offended Tricia, (Gary's girlfriend) which in turn started drama, Richard being the nice guy that he is, broke it up and we spent an hour or so talking these tough guys down from what could have been a bad scene. I slept hard that night and woke up with an incredible hangover, joined Antti (Finland) & Erin (Canada) for breakfast, packed my bag and went to the train station to start my three hour ride to Agra.

The trains seem organized, my name was on a printout on my car and I found my seat which was also a sleeper. Once the train was underway I crawled into the top bunk to nurse my aching head. (I really don't drink that much anymore, I doubt the heats helping.)

I arrived in Agra and priority one was how was I getting out? I wanted to go to Varanasi next, a town kind of on my way to Kathmandu on the banks of the Ganges River. The trains were sold out, fuck. OK, now of course there's a local that says he can get me onto that train, OK, how much? I go with him to an Auto-rickshaw with another guy for a 20 minute ride to a travel agent. Seems these agents pay the train people for VIP status, so I end up paying three times what I should ($14) to catch a twelve hour overnight train the next night. OK, now take my ass back to the train station because I need government confirmation that this "e-tickets" real. 20 more minutes and a short line later the man behind the glass said I'm good to go. Sweet. Take me to my hotel! These guys have it all worked out, they tell me that this evening we're going to the backside of the Taj to watch the sunset, after that we'll have a drink, in the morning they'll wake me up for sunrise on the Taj, then we'll go to Agra Fort, after that more drinks and they'll make sure I'm on my train. I was hypnotized, they'd done this before and I was falling for it. They waited while I checked into the Taj Plaza and when I saw my room, the Taj Majal from the roof, and the air conditioner blowing all sorts of goodness onto the double bed I literally ran down three flights of stairs to catch my "guides" and tell them I'd see them in the morning. I was NOT going anywhere anytime soon, what's my hurry? They're whole point is that it's the off-season and if I'm pulling rupees out of my wallet they want them in their able hands. My point is if I feel like I'm getting rushed piss off, I'll figure it out on my own. I relaxed, showered and wandered around the Taj's outer walls, the "touts" as they call the vendors here are crazy obnoxious and I had fun coming up with different ways to blow them off. I found a park, Shahjahan, and spent a while chasing the most gorgeous peacock I've ever seen in the wild. I also saw a wild boar, camels, tons of parrots and a monkey. I watched the sun go down and made my way back to my room for an early night, ordered room service and flipped through the channels till I passed out.

I only slept four hours, it was hot regardless of the A/C and I was excited to watch the sun rise over the Taj. Around 4am it started getting light so I started getting myself together and left my room by five. My "tour guides" had told me the sun came up at six, they were wrong so I ditched that meeting and was one of the first people through the gate at 5:30am. After shooting some exteriors I positioned myself on the east side of this awesome mausoleum and watched it change color as the sun did it's thing. It was brilliant, everything I'd heard about and maybe more, I hadn't expected it to be so enormous and the amount of labor it must have taken to create the exquisite perforated marble screens (to allow some light in) must have been intense. I spent almost five hours wandering around taking way too may pictures and lounging in some shady archways reading my book and filling out some postcards. When I finally made it back to my hotel one of the "guides" was there, and pissed. I told him if I would have listened to him I would have missed the sunrise, which I hadn't, and if that's the type of guiding he's selling I'm not buying. He stormed out of the lobby and the concierge was cracking up, I apologized for the drama and his response was that I was completely right, and he's just lazy used to taking advantage of the more ignorant tourists. Score one for me :) After that I had some breakfast, packed my bag again and stashed it with the hotel. It was time for some errands so I hired a rickshaw "driver" - he took me around for things like an ATM stop, the post office, we went to a shop where I got a light scarf since these were the fashion for keeping the sun off, as well as that pair of pants I'd been looking for. Eventually I made it back to my hotel where I gathered my bag and went to the rooftop restaurant for my last meal before the twelve hour train ride. It was only 6pm, my train was at 11:30pm. On the roof I met Sabrina from San Fran, she had been traveling for a while and gave me some good insight into other places in India & Nepal. We chatted while staring at the Taj as the sun went down until I eventually had to go to the train station. After making friends with the Agra Boxing Club (Four huge Indians intrigued my my "french" style goatee? Who knows) I got into my sleeper class top bunk. The guy next to me was working hard at cleaning some nasty residue off of his bunk so I offered him some Clorox wipes I had with me, he was super grateful and they did the trick, so for the next 14 hours (trains never run on time in India) this cat & his bro's had my back whenever some random would get pushy or overly friendly. I love how the little things can make all the difference. That reassurance actually meant I felt OK sleeping, I probably got four hours total, not bad for someone traveling solo using a backpack as a pillow.

So for those of you keeping track, that's four hours the night before and four hours on the train, when I got into Varanasi I was exhausted but made my way to a travel agent the LP had recommended. They told me that my plan to go to Kathmandu the next day wouldn't work, I would need to wait till Wednesday. Whatever, that was my backup plan, I needed to get some down time so I caught a tuk-tuk towards my guest house.

This town is very strange, the Ghat's are where they burn the bodies. Varanasi is where people come to die, the Hindu belief is that if your ashes are thrown into the Ganges, the most holiest of rivers, that the cycle if reincarnation will end. (Pictured above: Stacks of wood & piles of ashes next to river.)There are many hospices or if you have money your family has your body brought here when you do pass... following me? So now there are many types of wood that can be used to burn the bodies, the type of wood depends on how much money you have as well. As you wander the streets you see wood getting carted along and bodies getting carried on stretchers (wrapped in cloth) - so, I got dropped at the edge of the Ghat District, the streets are so narrow that even the smaller vehicles are not allowed. Of course I got lost on my way to the Schindia Guest House but eventually found the Ganges River and was pointed in the right direction. I found my place, checked in, met my "roommates" (geckos are everywhere, but they're nice and eat the mosquitoes) unpacked and after slamming some water passed out for fourteen hours. At some point (this ones for the ladies ;) I used my toilet and when I flushed a gecko fell into the whirlpool, he must be used to this and swam his little ass off until he finally made it back up under the rim of the toilet. Also I failed to mention the many warnings I'd received from the managers that I was not to leave things on my balcony (I was a few floors up overlooking the river) or any doors open due to the fact that monkeys like to steal. Awesome, it didn't stop me from leaving my door open at night, monkeys or not I needed to sleep and Varanasi was the hottest place I'd been yet.

In the morning I was offered a boat ride up and down the river, it is interesting seeing how these people enjoy bathing in the same place where all of these ashes, the cities sewage & animal carcases are being deposited. I also witnessed plenty of monkey's and a herd of a Water Buffalo entering the river for their morning bath, an animal I've never really watched, and for their size seem extraordinarily graceful when submerged. When my ride was over the pre-agreed upon price of 30 rupees turned into 80 so after cursing him & his karma I walked up and out of the Ghats to catch a ride to the train station. I decided to take a train as far north (towards Nepal) as possible, a town called Gorakhpur, and from there wing it by bus. My $2.25 train was to leave at 1pm so I went back to my guest house, packed my belongings and started towards the train station. I need to sidebar again: I was hungry, but the smells of death and sights of all types of feces were repulsing me, I couldn't stomach anything so just felt the need to get out of this town ASAP and figure out my hunger problem along the way. At the train station I found out my train was running late, the Tourist Police are everywhere in the transportation hubs and are very helpful, it makes me happy that these guys are around, they point you in the right direction & keep the more obnoxious locals off your back while also keeping you in the information loop. So to kill some time I found some chips and another large bottle of water while shopping for postcards. (There were none, sorry sis) This town was not making me happy so when the train arrived an hour late I was stoked to climb into my bunk for the seven hour ride north. This train had delays, at times it just stopped I assume due to another train ahead on the track, and everyone would jump out and wander the fields until it would go again. At 8:30pm (well after dark) it arrived in Gorakphur, and I found a $1.00 bus to Sunauli, the border town three hours away. This bus was interesting, the door kept falling open due to the crazy horrible roads, people kept jumping in and out regardless of whether the bus was moving or not, and at times I wasn't sure if we were going to make it back into our lane past the horse cart before the big rig smashed into us. (That's just one example ;) The driver was blasting his Hindi music and would just pull over whenever he had the urge to relieve himself, I guess that was our cue to do the same. Eventually the bus was empty except for myself and the crew, and shortly after they dropped me at the only light I had seen for miles which also happened to be a hotel. The owner seemed to be waiting for me, and for $10 I had a double room with a private bath and a swamp cooler... awesome, I was starving but my exhaustion overpowered that so after slamming more water passed out for a good five hours.

The next morning I woke around 5:30am, gathered my stuff, thanked the staff and wandered up the street 1/2 a kilometer to the border. The sight was reminiscent of video I've seen of the Gulf War, crumbled buildings with burning piles on either side of the road. I didn't feel unsafe, just motivated to get the hell out of that part of India. I got stamped out by their immigration, walked across the border, stamped into Nepal by their immigration, and walked about 20 more meters to a bus stand. Kathmandu is eight more hours away by bus, my ticket which I'm told I paid too much for was $7 and we left pretty quick. There was another American on the bus with me and we immediately made friends, Alex from Chicago. We watched each others bags during stops and chatted about our travels. The bus kept gathering people to the point where they were stacked on the roof with the luggage, at every stop people kept offering me food but I was wary and so close to "civilization" that I opted to stay away from it since I'd rather starve than be sick for my two week trek to Everest Base Camp.

Nepal is gorgeous, as we drove north and east we started into the foothills of the Himalaya, a jungle no where near as dirty as what I'd seen in India. Now, I don't want to spread the wrong impression here, I was in the most populous & traveled places in India during the hottest time of the year, there are regions to the east, north and on the that I hear are amazing but my experience so far was not pretty, Nepal was making up for it in a big way, until we got to Narayangarh.

The bus pulled over; every bus was pulled over for as far as we could see; everyone got out; vendors started selling us food & water, I finally indulged in some spicy noodles; we "heard" that someone was causing trouble; an Englishman on a motorcycle came from the other direction and saw us, the only two white dudes for miles and pulled over to chat; he told us that he had just zig-zagged past burning tires and rubble for the past five kilometers, this was one of those Nepalese protests the state department had warned me about, great. I told the Englishman I had considered buying a bike and doing the trip like him, his words at that point seemed hilarious since his motorcycle made it through the blockades just fine, "You shoud've." I agreed and he went on his way, we spent the next six hours wandering around, learning some Nepalese from our bus-mates and staring at the distant Himalayas. It was an annoying inconvenience but we were safe and assured the road would open back up at 5pm. It did and after the buses lined up and got through the inevitable "jam" we were back on our way. We drove past the blockade which might have reassured me that this was not some fabrication to bring commerce to an otherwise remote village, but I'm still not convinced. After four more hours we pulled into Katmandu, caught a cab to the Potala Guest House where I had a reservation and checked in. At this point we realized how much we, as Americans, take power for granted. Nepal is always in rolling blackouts, the gov't allocates electricity to its towns as needed and we arrived in the dark. We then wandered the streets in the dark to finally find some grilled beef sticks (I hadn't had meat in a week, and I needed it before passing out due to malnutrition.) before heading back to our place for a shower and a long nights rest. The next morning (Today) I had the most food I've eaten before noon in years, cereal, yoghurt, banana pancakes, eggs, waters... it was awesome and has given me the energy to write this. I'm stacking up on supplies for our trek for the next two days, than tomorrow evening Scott & Andy arrive for a few hours before we catch a plane up to Lukla to begin our journey to the base of the highest mountain in the world.

Mount Rainier, Smith Rock & back again

This was it, what I had been training for.

When this is over, I told myself, I can be considered a novice mountaineer.

There were four of us: Andrew, Jimmy, Tim and me. Andrew and Jimmy were college friends, who, like me, were originally from Pennsylvania. Jim knew Tim from upstate New York, where they both lived. Tim, having previously summited Rainier, as well as Denali, Aconcagua and even Everest, was our expedition leader – in short, the Man. We were going to do whatever he said in our attempt to summit Mt. Rainier, the most dangerous volcano in the United States.

The day started early as my lovely Dorothy dropped me at the airport before her daily commute. She’d graciously done the same on several previous occasions when I was heading off for some other adventure. Saying good-bye was never fun. Carrying a heavy backpack and fully stuffed duffel bag was no picnic either, but those were my loads to bear, at least until a few minutes (and $40) later, when they were checked behind the US Air counter, hopefully on their way to Seattle’s Sea-Tac Airport. I myself was on my way to Phoenix for a two-hour layover before I rejoined my bags.

The weather in Seattle was perfect – drizzling, which is exactly how it ought to be. The four of us met at REI, picked up some fuel, a quick wrap (yes, the Seattle REI even sells food) and discussed our climbing route. The road on the northeast side of the mountain was closed, so Liberty Ridge was not possible. We decided on our southern backup, the Kautz Glacier Route, a Grade II to III climb with an elevation gain of 9,000 feet. A few hours’ drive later, we stopped at the Hobo Inn for our last meal before we began our ascent. Burgers were the grub of choice. We proceeded up the Nisqually-Longmire Road into Mount Rainier National Park, but a short time after we began driving the wind picked up and storm conditions were evident. Tim made the call to go back down to where it was more pleasant for our night’s slumber. We found a dead-end road, pitched our tents under some trees and, after a few final phone calls, turned in for the night.

 

Morning was cool and clear. A very good sign. We ate breakfast bars and hydrated as much as possible while packing for what might be three full nights in the snow. A short while after we set out, we arrived at Paradise, an area known for incredible views and wildflowers (although the latter were in short supply at the time) and the location of the park’s main visitor center. We registered our backcountry outing at the Guide House, paused for our final bathroom break and started up the main trail.

It wasn’t long before the snow got too deep to walk on and we had to don snowshoes to cross the Nisqually Glacier, which was basically a snowfield – it was so early in the season no crevasses had opened up. We had also roped up and I was getting a crash course in glacier travel, an exhausting but necessary way to proceed. When we reached the base of the Fan, a prominent chute on the other side, we removed our snowshoes due to the steep incline, unroped to reduce party-inflicted rockfall and turned on our avalanche beacons. Above us, we could hear the constant and unsettling sound of careening rocks, loosened from the snow and ice by the sun’s rays.

We traversed a steep, exposed slope and made it to solid ground, continued up a ridge to the top of the Wilson Glacier at 8,200 feet and dug our first camp. I was exhausted from six hours of climbing but after catching my breath I picked up a shovel and joined in, clearing and packing a flat area in the snow roomy enough for our two tents. The weather had remained pleasant and we enjoyed the clear skies while we melted snow for water to drink and cook our meals. After ingesting as much as possible, we took our final bathroom break and crawled into our sleeping bags for our first night’s sleep on the massive mountain.

Morning brought breakfast bars and oatmeal. We took our time because it was a beautiful day and our goal was the bivy spot below Camp Hazard, just up the ridge but another elevation gain of 3,000 feet. After filling our water bottles, packing our tents and installing our crampons, I actually broke trail over a rocky ice-coated cornice-type ridge until Jimmy took over. That’s my M.O. -- blow my energy early and lag the rest of the hike. I stayed true to form. As we hiked, we noticed a strange saucer-shaped cloud hovering over Mt. Adams to our south. Tim identified as a lenticular cloud (often mistaken for UFOs; I could see why) and said it was not good news.

Onward and upward we continued, purposefully switch-backing to ease the gain, zig-zagging between a ridge and the Turtle, (a deep glacier just below our route to the Kautz) in an attempt to remain on rock rather than post-hole through the deeper snow. I was lagging badly. My three companions would stop just long enough for me to catch up and then take off again, leaving me with words of wisdom like “drink” and “eat.” I took their advice but, glancing behind us, noticed that the weather seemed to be closing in. I wondered whether the increasing clouds were due to our elevation gain or whether there was a real storm blowing in from the Pacific. Either way, visibility was definitely decreasing. Ignorance might be bliss but as the fog grew thicker and landmarks became invisible, I found it more and more difficult to determine just how far forward I was moving, if at all. My exhausted brain searched for excuses to continue at my sluggish pace. I wished for an altimeter. Or a GPS.  Finally, I caught up to a conversation: We were going to ascend for another 30 minutes. I could do that.

The wind picked up steadily from the West and so did the snow. We came to a small ledge next to a rock wall just under the Kautz Ice Cliff below Camp Hazard. I was surprised that the group had broken out the shovels and started building up the single ledge into two ledges large enough for both two-man tents. Tim was grabbing large boulders and tossing them to Jimmy to stack; Andrew and I built up our platform till it looked like it could at least fit us on it – hopefully, our nylon accommodations as well. We set up the tents at 11,300 feet, anchoring them into the snow with ice axes, ski poles, snow shoes, ice screws and whatever else we could find while tying them to rocks, each other, and filling them with our gear. Tim directed us to look down the slope we had ascended and raised his voice over the increasing storm, “Imagine an avalanche, heavy winds or icefall hitting your tent... what would that do?” I thought about it while staring downward, from this perspective that slope might as well be frozen wet marble. Nobody answered Tim, the answer was obvious, it would turn our sleeping quarters into a large closed-in vinyl toboggan. Yikes!

The vision was terrifying and educational, a reminder of why it was a good idea to trek with an experienced climber. Still, we never did take his advice to fill bags with snow, tie them to the tents and bury them. It seemed like a great idea but at the time it also seemed like it would take too long and we were cold. I think we were all convinced that the storm was going to blow over. The forecast for the next day had indicated that it would be the best day to summit. Andrew and Tim, still not content, continued to excavate. I focused on inventory making sure everything that wasn’t holding down the tent was accounted for.

 

After fixing some ropes over the upper ledge, Jim & Tim retreated to their shelter while Andrew & I headed into ours for soup and tea. The wind was ridiculous, gusting at random intervals, maintaining a strength and consistency that Tim later admitted he’d never experienced. None of us got any peace, at least once an hour somebody would climb outside & dig the snow buildup off the top and sides of the tents. The wind howled at 70 to 80 mph, gusting at times to over 100 mph, while the temperature dropped to 14 degrees Fahrenheit. When we attempted to eat our dinner around 9 p.m. so much snow blew into the tent we realized we had lost control of the outer perimeter and it was time to move anything we cared about inside including the stove to heat our water. The resulting heat melted the snow that had accumulated inside and soon most everything in the tent was briefly wet, and quickly frozen. The tent walls had become covered with frost and every time the wind shook our shelter it literally snowed all over everything. By 1 a.m. the blizzard was constant & unzipping the tent to clear the buildup was no longer an option, we could only lean into the walls hoping to maintain the tents’ integrity.

We could hear our neighbors yelling to each other over the wind, it had become so intense that they were being slapped in their faces by flattened tent poles.  It was miserable but exhilarating. I kept thinking of all the books I’d read in which hikers found themselves in similar circumstances, thankful for our proximity to rescue and civilization. Beyond that, Tim had proven his experience and gained our trust so subtly that it was hard to conceive something could go fatally wrong. Regardless, we remained constantly vigilant and, around 8 a.m., Tim shouted over the still-crazy wind that we were breaking camp and leaving in one hour to go back down the mountain to Paradise.

For a brief moment I felt confused, since I wasn’t the guide on this trip trusting Tim was my only option, and until he let us know we were retreating I’d never felt in any danger. Now I realized that control is only perceived, our focus was now switching from achieving to surviving. The realization that we were turning back triggered an instinct I’d never experienced. It was the defining moment that quickly molded my confusion into determination... I would not be beaten by this mountain today.

Since we never really slept, that night seemed like a dream. But it wasn’t lack of sleep that slowed us down in breaking camp, it was the white-out conditions. Finally packed, I ran through our essentials. Water, check. Helmut, harness, beacon, crampons and axes, check. Secured backpack, check. Goggles, check. Visibility… none. 

Down we went. Every 30 seconds a gust would pick up and knock me down. Tim instructed us to anchor ourselves when it got severe -- crouching near the ground and shoving our axes into the snow as deep as possible. It was nuts. Every step was against the wind. I took my time because I was still fairly new to crampons but I kept losing sight of my team and their tracks were filling up with snow. Soon we were wading through a waist-deep powder field, facing gale-force winds with 40-pound packs on our backs. I never imagined going down could be so draining. 

My partners were there for me at every turn, however, making sure I was okay before moving on. Nobody lost their temper and everyone was as helpful as possible when we could see and communicate with each other. I was the weakest link but I knew that a successful descent depended on continuing, for both getting down and for maintaining my core body temperature. One of my crampons came apart and I had to stop for repairs. The Velcro on my gaiters was no longer sticking so they kept falling apart. At one point a trekking pole split in two, although after a short break I was thankfully able to fix it. Nobody could see through their goggles due to frozen condensation and the storm, my own had turned into a face warmer. My hood was drawn so tight I could only see the ground in front of me. 

Seeing the goals didn’t require vision, once every system I’d hoped would prevent cold and wet had failed I just knew what to do.

We made it to our first night’s camp where I discovered that one of my water bottles was frozen solid and I started eating anything my freezing hands could open. The surroundings were familiar, however, and overall things were looking up. We just needed to get off the ridge and out of the insane weather. Tim lead us to a rocky outcrop and we started climbing down by walking backwards, kicking steps into the snow wall and relying on our axes to keep us upright. Once we got to the exposed area I remembered from two days prior, Tim started down again. I watched, awestruck, as his second kick started a snow slide that quickly turned into an actual avalanche. I froze – literally, this time -- as a stupendous and escalating wave of snow and ice hurtled down the Wilson Glacier below us. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing and it wasn’t until I turned to Tim and saw a smile on his face that I realized the avalanche was the best thing that could have happened. Twenty inches of newly fallen soft snow had just slid down the mountain, exposing the snow beneath it that had frozen before the storm. We were on solid ground.

We continued down the slope to a sheltered spot beneath a cliff and sent Andrew to scout our final descent. It was still quite foggy and after some discussion, we decided to bring him back up and hope for the weather to clear a bit. When it did, we found our path, tied our two 200-foot ropes together and evenly spaced ourselves. I learned a lot in a very small amount of time about snow climbing in avalanche conditions. Pickets, bollards, boot-ax belays, prussics, screws and all possible forms of snow protection – all the tools I’d read about – were being utilized.

We lowered each other down the steep parts and moved in a line down the Fan until we reached the Nisqually Glacier and then kept on going. Tim was on a mission. The weather had lifted and the end was in sight so he broke trail till I cried for a water stop. Across the glacier, the route climbed 500 feet, pretty much straight up. We were still roped together and Tim was not letting up on the pace. When we finally crested a ridge and arrived in Paradise Valley, I thought I was going to throw up. But there it was – our initial path through the gap. Once Tim gave the go ahead, I broke trail for a good 15 minutes. Everyone passed me, however, and I eventually caught up with them on a hill overlooking the parking area. Noticing that ours were the only two cars in the lot, we realized that we had literally broken trail the entire way, because nobody else had descended the regular or any other route that day. Elated, we headed for our cars.

I was now a novice mountaineer and it was time to get off this mountain.

Published 2010, Outside Online, 127definingmoments.com

"Sight Doesn’t Always Require Visibility"

A defining moment during extreme conditions on the Kautz Glacier Route

Once partially disrobed the kicker was that both cars had been plowed in, but easily dislodged, it was time to get down off this mountain. We stopped at that same burrito place which now had quesadillas & beer, perfect.

We fed and decided to find a room to dry our gear and regroup, Andy knew this was his last night since getting back to work would make his trip to Nepal a ton easier and he would be leaving for Seattle before we got up. After a shower, hours of unloading, organizing and drying we got a great night sleep. (Mount Rainier Picasa Album)

The next morning our Continental Breakfast was Belgium waffles & OJ – unlimited fruit & bagels, awesome. Once the car was packed and we had moved out we met in the lobby and utilized the computer and locals to come up with a plan, actually Tim figured it out & I think Jimmy was just as surprised as me when he said that, since the weather was not going to get better around here, we were going to where it’s always dry, Smith Rock, Central Oregon & a place I’ve only read about in magazines & seen in climbing films. OK then, with me in the backseat as navigator we headed out of the Rainier Nat’l Park into South Central Washington. We stopped in Yakima so Tim could buy some climbing shoes and we could gather some beta, thanks Jablow for your web skillz in directing us efficiently to the rock shop. Beyond that we crossed the Columbia River Gorge, a beautiful valley famous to me for the Oregon Trail & its windsurfing. A few more hours, a Burger King stop and we made it to Terrebonne, Oregon, just 20 minutes north of Bend and the closest town to Smith Rock. Once we picked up a few beers we found our campground and started unloading the car. Basically in the desert, no chance of icy or wet conditions, and snow shoes, plastic boots & ice axes are falling out of the trunk… hilarious. We made a nice camp past the outdoor bouldering wall, enjoyed the local brews & watched the moon come up. Even in darkness we could tell this was a great state park, we walked to a river overlook and practiced bouldering stoked to climb the enormous monoliths surrounding us. I slept well that night.

The next morning was easy, we had some breakfast and filled up for a full day of rock climbing. This place is amazing, an easy walk from the car and although it is the start of their climbing season it wasn’t too crowded, we got onto whatever climbs our recently purchased guidebook would direct us to usually with no wait. At the end of the afternoon after all of us had got some leading in while exploring this andicite jungle we made our way into town and decided, since Bend is close, that we were going to check out a brewery that Tim had visited on a prior trip. After trolling through what I’m considering a very nice town we found ourselves at the Deschutes Brewery, the maker of many fine micro-brews I’m familiar with after over a decade of sampling what the west coast has to offer. I indulged and eventually Tim got us back to camp for another very solid nights sleep.

Since the recent storm had dumped so much snow on the Cascades our tentative plan of climbing Mount Hood had gone away, avalanche conditions were as strong as ever and with the spring sun beating onto the southern routes we decided to have another day of climbing at Smith Rock. I was warmed up from the day before and found myself stronger since now I was used to the unique features of these rocks. After a few hours of hard climbing we called it a day. (Click Here for a Fun Slideshow) I needed to be at the airport in Seattle, six hours away, the following afternoon. We decided that getting some of that drive out of the way would be comfortable, Tim had some friends in Portland that were welcoming us into their home for the night so we made the two hour drive past the base of Mount Hood into the heart of Oregon suburbia. We acquainted ourselves while Tim caught up with his old friends and eventually went out to the Bridgeport Alehouse for a great dinner & some cask-conditioned ale. I made friends with Deb & Jeff’s five month old son Will while enjoying our meals, I recognized how pleasant children are when they’re this young since they don’t really cause any havoc. (Avery is 19 months, and getting more difficult to take out in public, c’est la vie) After the walk home I found a nice futon in the basement and passed out exhausted and excited to come home the next day. As much as I was enjoying this vacation I couldn’t help but feel I was running out of time to prepare for my month in India & Nepal.

Saturday morning we woke up, I repacked my bags, had a bagel, said our goodbyes and got on the road north towards Seattle. Big thanks to Tim & Deb for having us and enduring my crap all over the driveway while I arranged myself for flight. Along the way we took a break to check out the Mount Saint Helens visitor center which featured spectacular views of the 1980 explosion remains & a short documentary, it was very informative and I hope to explore that Nat’l Park someday as well. Back on the road I navigated us into the downtown district where we eventually had a nice seafood lunch and a short tour of the market area. I must admit after so long in seclusion all of these people were freaking me out so once our hour parking meter was up we took off towards the airport, they dropped me off and I caught my flight through Vegas to San Diego. Donia picked me up and we had an early Saturday Night.

Sunday was Mother’s Day, so we met the family for breakfast and made a plan to make dinner at Avery’s residence for her Mom & mine. It’s been a blur, currently it’s Tuesday morning; I’ve handled my pics, this blog, packing for India, returning gear, meeting with my Everest Base Camp partners, emailing to finalize, registering with the State Department, paying bills and most amazingly of all, fixing the broken LCD screen on our camera. (I’d broken it at the beginning of Day two at Smith Rock) – Dorothy had researched and found online instructions to fix, so after finding the replacement screen in Kearny Mesa she installed it and now I’m good to go, hopefully for the next month! I have some finalizing to do today and dinner with my Dad, but overall I’m ready to go.

My next post will be from Asia after I successfully navigate my way through the Indian-Nepalese border to Kathmandu.

How do you say "see you later" in Hindi? Cheers ;)

Joshua Tree Reunion, San Jacinto Snow & More Plans

I've been in San Diego almost three weeks...
This is the longest I've spent in one place in five months...
I'm starting to freak out, it's time to get away...

Luckily my old friends Melissa & Mike, who now live in Tucson, have planned a get-together in one of my favorite places, Joshua Tree National Park. Even more fortunate, Dorothy has the entire week off for Spring Break. We packed the truck & departed the morning of April 8th, our first stop was Big Bear, I was hunting for the perfect jacket for Rainier in these mountain towns since the San Diego area had packed all of their cold weather gear up for the springtime. No luck up here either, this area only sells ski gear which is totally different from what I’m looking for, I found the one mountaineer supply store and he said my best bet would be in the town of Joshua Tree, another Nomad Ventures I had already planned on checking out. Once Dorothy & I stopped by a few more shops & the resorts we started our eastward drive toward the Mojave Desert.

When we were about to start down the grade, while searching for random wood we found a nice couple who were building a log cabin, they directed us to their current residence where we loaded the truck with as much fuel for a fire it could hold. At 8000 feet the mountains were freezing, we had already abandoned our original plan to camp that night in Holcomb Valley (near Big Bear City) & it wasn’t hard to predict that even in the desert, wherever we set camp would be a cold one. Down out of the north side of the San Bernardino Nat’l Forest we went, a very easy way since we were only dropping a few thousand feet, just over an hour later we were at Vons in Yucca Valley stocking up with food, water & booze for the next five days. After this I made a final stop at the two different Joshua Tree outfitters and although Nomad had a jacket that would suffice, I decided then and there to drop the loot on exactly what I was looking for with Patagonia directly.

We were the first to arrive at Jumbo Rocks Campground, our intended home for the next few days, and since we were arriving so late in the afternoon it seemed pretty bleak that we would be able to score even two of the hoped for five campsites in the same general vicinity. We made camp that night in a loop that seemed like it might clear out.

After unloading the truck and making camp we had some dinner, some wine, and started walking around the sites checking the tags for departure dates… it wasn’t looking good for this loop. Anyway we drank a bunch of wine, spoke with a neighbor for a bit and eventually passed out on what turned into being the coldest night of our stay. (We slept right through it, yeah Vino!) The next morning we both got up and started roaming through some of the other loops, the next one over was clearing out and after speaking with some of its inhabitants this turned out to be the place, campsites 20 – 24. We moved our site into the middle of it all and started blocking parking spots and dropping random gear on all the picnic tables. No worries, it was time to do some of that chillin’ we had been looking forward to. I rode my dirt bike around a little to search for a cell signal (no luck) and eventually took my truck out to the park boundary for a call to Melissa & AA sometime in the afternoon. I got through and let them know where we were, asked that an email be sent to the group with my weather update/location and came back to Jumbo. I decided no more driving since that roundtrip took almost two hours. (I had also called Patagonia to order that jacket ;) It was time for a beer. It was also time for Andie & Taj from Sherman Oaks to arrive, good timing too since I was tired of getting the evil eye from everyone driving by that were searching out sites for the Easter weekend. While she unloaded her car we entertained her soon to be six-year-old son (the next day was his birthday) on the rocks, I had wanted to check out this one spot all evening and since someone else was now occupying 20-24 we were good to go. We had a blast roaming next to the giant monoliths as the sun went down, J-Tree is just one big playground and if you have a headlight the darkness can be just as exciting. That evening we roasted some Hebrew Nationals over our fire while waiting for Mike, Melissa, Maggie (11) & the newest addition at six months old, Melody. Andie had enlightened us that a few more people had dropped out due to weather concerns and I had judged that the 4M’s would be arriving around midnight, I think they beat that guestimate by an hour or two. They arrived with a packed car and we all assisted however we could while reacquainting ourselves and watching out for the children. After getting everything set up & a few more logs on the fire we called it a night.

The next day after another good nights sleep Mike & I took off to the Split Rock Area to climb a few decent pitches and do some recon for the kids climbing planned for the following morning. A few hours later we were back and others had arrived, my old friends Missy & Nick had flown to LA from Northern Cali and arrived by rental car. After that Pat & Mike showed up from OB and then from San Luis Obispo Lisa, Dominique, their two year old daughter Lucy & five year old Luna (Missy & Nicks daughter). Eventually Adam & Danielle arrived from San Diego & after getting everyone’s tents set up, cars unloaded & witnessing a beautiful sunset... we got down to some serious drinkin’ – Vodka seemed to be the most popular since the wind had seriously picked up when the sun was going down. It was a good night with lot’s a reminiscing and laughter, the crew one by one drifted back to their tents as I eventually did, although I don’t remember.

The next day (Saturday) we woke up late (or just in time) for breakfast, Josh (Andie’s Man, also from Sherman Oaks) & his bro Chris (San Diego) had arrived late night, this morning it was time to set up a rope for the kids to play around on. Mike and I did that across the street and finally AA, Jenny & their two year old daughter Lilyana arrived to make our party/reunion complete. After a few hours of climbing Mike & I did another more difficult route that his daughter free-soloed around to meet him at the top of, she’s gonna be good. After that we made it back for some happy hour brews and sandwiches with AA & his ladies. They were only there for the day and unfortunately they left as the sun was going down. A little later we got together for dinner, most peeps had brought taco fixin’s, then the night becomes blurry again. I know there wasn’t much hard stuff involved since we’d drank most of it the night before but there was plenty of beer & picture taking. The last thing I remember from that evening is the mom’s handing us all egg’s and telling us to hide them around the campsite for Easter morning.

Sunday arrived and with it another beautiful day, we got pretty lucky with the weather since all it ever did was threaten & get a little chilly, no gale force winds or torrential downpours to endure this time around making Mike & Melissa’s 1st wedding anniversary/reunion a smashing success. We had one more stint of climbing for the grown-ups at intersection rock before heading back to San Diego for a quick shower and turnaround to my sister’s house for Easter Dinner. After getting there late and realizing we were exhausted we thanked them for the food and made our way home for some couch time and an early night.

The next few days I did some more studying, organized my pictures from the weekend and prepared for Jablow & I’s annual “End of Tax Season” Retreat, this year we were going to need crampons since our goal was the summit of Mount San Jacinto and it had four feet of snow on top of it. On April 15th our friend Dave showed up and started us on the sauce a little early, eventually we joined up with Jablow, Pat & some others for some food at the Arizona Café & drinks at Tony’s – I called it an early night since I was stoked to get out of town and start testing my new gear the next day.

April 16th arrived; I woke Jablow up in our spare room and got on the road north and east towards Idyllwild. After picking up supplies and obtaining our permit we parked the car, packed our bags and started the four mile uphill to Strawberry Junction, our intended campsite for the night. It was brutal with a hangover and an exceptionally heavy pack since I was carrying my new ice boots, so once we found our site it was time to chill. The next morning I donned a somewhat heavy pack & put on my new plastic ice boots for the 5.5 mile hike to the summit. This was also brutal, the boot itself was burly but I came to the conclusion that if I’m walking on flats & rocks, rather than straight uphill in the snow, I need a more flexible ankle. We attached our crampons and after what seemed like forever finally made it to the top for some hot noodles and a view of Palm Springs & her golf courses, the Coachella Valley with its hundreds of windmills& the desert that is Joshua Tree. Because it was so clear I could actually pick out different familiar rock formations within the park, I had been on San Jacinto twice before and had never seen so clearly! The summertime smog has kept me blind to this spectacle & now I’m feeling even more inspired to make winter ascents of these southern peaks. Since the sun was waning we started our descent, we had taken too long to summit so we had to boogie down the mountain. Crampons are fun and make one feel much stronger when pushing through heavy snow. Glissading is the mountaineering term for sliding down the mountain on your ass using an ice ax or trekking pole to stop yourself if you get going too fast, we experimented. After an hour or so we knew we would be good since we had found the trail and the GPS had not let us down. We filled up our water at a spring and made it back to our camp just after dark, slammed a flask of tequila Jablow had brought along and made some veggies with couscous for dinner.

The next morning my feet were sore. Most everything I had brought along to “test” had worked out; the pants, jackets, socks, climbing, cooking & sleeping systems were doing well but one thing was troubling me, I had formed “hot spots” on my shins from rubbing in my boots. I decided to wear the new boots the rest of the four miles down to the car for additional breaking in, now I formed blisters on my shins, great. This was why I was out here, to figure out what works and what doesn’t… I decided that overall I was doing OK but I needed to address other footwear options so my first priority upon returning would be researching that. Now it was time to check out the Stone World Bistro & Gardens, a newer establishment in Escondido and an expansion from one of my favorite local breweries. A few hours, a damn fine burger and many dark beers later we were basking in the sunshine of a wonderful Saturday afternoon. That evening, after a nice nap, I organized my pictures from the last few days and had a great nights sleep in what I’m truly appreciating as my own bed these days.

Life is funny, and this lifestyle is extremely liberating, big plans are getting made and decisions about what comes next are cropping up more and more often. April 20th is a day Dorota & I have designated to celebrate our anniversary, it’s been longer but in the beginning we had some “complications,” for lack of a better word, so exactly when has never been truly distinguished. That day we spoke about it, the conclusion that we came up with is that this summer may be our last summer (for a while) to “play” – I’m hoping to be employed and with that I may lose these freedoms, we spoke about engagement, marriage, a new place to live, children, the Future in general, our future together, we decided to take full advantage of her summer break. In my entire career summer’s have never been an easy time to take more than a week off, it’s my profession, nights and weekends become the norm and summer breaks are for the tenured. I don’t have a lot of money left but I do have the time and (I know your tired of hearing this) “you only live once” – we’re going to southern Mexico and Central America for three weeks. From Cancun we’ll be flying to Norfolk, Virginia for a week on the Outer Banks, and eventually spending a few weeks in Pennsylvania & New Jersey (where we’re from) with friends and family. After that I should be ready for work, since Alaska fell off the drawing board I’ve been looking to fill that gap and now I’ve done it with the one person I consistently feel bad about leaving.

I’m worried about my feet, my shins now have scabs from the weekend’s abuse and I’m not any closer to a solution. Long story short, after stressin’ for two days I’ve decided to buy an additional pair of synthetic “leather” boots with a little more flexibility than the plastics. Of course I can’t afford it but the beauty of REI is their return policy, and trust me at least one of these pairs of boots are going back.

Today we received a call from the Ranger assigned to our parties reservation, seems our determination to do a the classic route “Liberty Ridge” is not as easy as we thought, an additional 13 miles hiking each way may be required since the road may be closed at the park boundary. Mount Rainer National Park had plenty of snow this winter, awesome, I guess the good part is this isn’t my problem and it just adds that much more excitement. I’ll keep doing research, studying my rescue techniques and training whenever possible. I’m doing a bike & camp trip on Mount Laguna finishing up on the Noble Canyon trail this weekend, good cardio, my lungs need all the help they can get. After that I have less than a week before my departure, I’ll keep up the cardio & studying, eat lots of carbs, make sure all of my bills are handled and verify I have every possible piece of equipment necessary to help me get up this enormous climb.

It's surreal; Rainier will be the most physically demanding climb of my life and within a week of returning I’ll be traveling through India & Nepal on my way to Everest Base Camp, a walk-up requiring no special equipment, to hopefully witness the “Roof of the World.”