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| Trekking in Nepal |
I
wonder how I came to this place, and how just months ago I could not
imagine being in the midst of the majestic Himalaya mountain range.
I am from the Midwest where mountains are few and far between, ice is
measured only on our roadways, and the altitude is just a tick above
sea level. So what takes a person from the cornfields of Indiana to
the peaks of the Himalaya? Maybe it was the pending planetary
alignment
The
compulsion to travel to Nepal came from a single picture of a house,
nothing more. My first visit to the Himalaya focused on mountain
biking in the Annapurna
Trekking region. After about a week of riding, my guide
told me that I should definitely see the tigers in Chitwan National
Park. So I left Khatmandu and made my way to Lumbini(the historical
home of Buddha), and then finally on to Pokhara. It was a fifteen
day trip that was the most physically demanding and rewarding journey
that I had ever taken. From traveling downhill on thin mountain
passes at reckless speeds to rounding a corner with an angry bull
waiting, the biking was unlike anything in the United States.
Three
years later I find myself leaving Tribhuvan’s aging domestic
airport departing for the most dangerous airport in the world, the
notorious Lukla airstrip. Sitting on the edge of a cliff this small
landing strip is more a backwoods bootlegger than a domestic airport.
Lukla requires perfect conditions and a talented pilot just to keep
the plane in one piece. We departed from the airport, and that day
were within the confines of Sagarmartha National Park. It was given
world heritage status in 1976.
The valley floor starts above 10,000
feet, and contains the world’s highest peaks. It was an eight-day
walk to make it to the jump-off point for Island Peak, Chukkung. The
first major stop on the road was Namche Baazar, famous for being the
last portal to the internet and home of the $12 can of Guinness. It
is here that for the first time you can actually see Mount Everest
off in the distance. Even better, Ama Dablam appears to be so close
you could reach out and touch it.
Ten
cliff bars and gallons of Gatorade later, I was on the last leg of
the journey, making my way to the outpost. I was exhausted and the
guides were far behind me, so I lay in a field bordering the trail.
I had traveled more than 5 hours a day and gained more elevation on
one trail than I had accumulated in my entire lifetime for trekking
in nepal. Looking towards Mount
Everest we could see our objective off in the distance.
Island Peak received its name because it appears to be an island
rising up from a sea of ice. It’s actually an extension ridge of
Lhotse with the true summit topping out at over twenty thousand feet.
We would complete the round trip to the summit and back in less than
twelve hours, leaving little time for mountain shenanigans.
At
3am we left camp for the moderate climb up crumbling rocks. We could
see the reflections of headlamps far above from a slower Japanese
group. It was snowing lightly, and we were making good time. The
climb became somewhat sketchy near the top with exposed sections of
easy, un-roped climbing. When we made it to crampon point the sun
was rising above Ama Dablam, and I began to strap the futuristic
snowshoes to my gnarled feet. I shoved an opened cliff bar into the
top of the bag that held my headlamp, and documents.
As
we moved into the snow section of Island peak my senses went on high
alert. I walked a narrow strip of snow flanked on both sides by steep
cliffs. As we rounded the corner the field became flat and slightly
up hill. We had finally made it to the ice wall. The few groups
before us had cut fresh steps into the wall for the new season. At
first, I was worried about the number of people on the rope at the
same time. My concerns were quickly settled when my guide reassured
me that he had done this trek literally hundreds of times. The
Japanese group was slowing and creating a bottleneck near the top.
After passing the slow group, the climb itself was very nice and not
difficult. You simply had to step and set your feet.
The
final ridge is just ahead. It was a long way up to the summit, but
that only made getting there more rewarding. My friend Jangbu and I
found a place to sit and he managed to light a Marlboro Red. We sat
for several minutes silently looking down at earth, planning for the
hard part - getting down. Just a side note: when I got back to my
pack at crampon point the top of the bag was empty. After throwing
around blind accusations, evidence pointed at the circling ravens
that can open zippers. Believe me, it’s true.
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