Those last 15 feet...

It's funny - I put in my last cybercast from Nepal about two weeks ago, and just finished typing up the first one for Denali. For being somewhere else all the time, I sure feel like I'm always letting people know where I am!

Island Peak stands at 20,305 feet above sea level. We were joking while we were there that we should just bring a really tall ladder to make it to the same elevation as the summit of Denali, which is at 20,320', and how different the two climbs were. Island: a different language, rocky trails, animals to carry your gear, people to cook your food and carry the kitchen, a day from base camp to the summit. Denali: US land, entirely ice from the moment you start, 120 lbs of gear that you are responsible for moving up the mountain, a shovel for making your own sleeping place level (and protected from wind and snow), and 15+ days of walking slowly uphill carrying lots of weight, hoping the weather will give you a break so you can go back down. It would be difficult for them to be more different, but it's all the mountains, and it's all good.

So we're off, weather permitting, tomorrow afternoon. We'll spend the next full day at base camp, by the snow runway, going over crevasse rescue and building a strong camp and all the other stuff we need to be ready for the mountain. It will be a few days until we have phone reception and can call in again, but posts, as always, will be at www.alpineascents.com/denali-cybercast.asp See you soon!

Photos

More from Nepal and other places on my site at SmugMug. Enjoy!

(On the right side of the image, a little window pops out - click on "large" to see them as a slide show.)

Everest Base Camp / Island Peak

Three weeks? Really? Yep, we flew in on April 1 and back on April 20 - three weeks of walking up and down paths, looking at mountains and trees and yaks and kids and trying hard to fight off the various intestinal and respiratory bugs along the way. To Everest Base Camp and back, and a side trip to climb Island Peak for a few of us.

We actually had ridiculously perfect weather for most of the trek, just an afternoon of showers for us climbers and, unfortunately, some bad weather for the trekkers trying to fly back to Kathmandu before us. But the good weather meant lots of iconic views of all the famous mountains, Everest, Lhotse, Nupse, Ama Dablam, Pumori, as well as the less-famous mountains: Kangteka, Tamserku, Island, etc. The high Himalaya really are what they appear to be in pictures - striking, isolated, and BIG. Add some colorful prayer flags and timeless chorten monuments and stoic-looking yaks, and every picture is a keeper.

Interestingly, the challenge in climbing Everest is increasingly becoming not the altitude or logistics (that's what extra oxygen and amazing Sherpas are for), but simply keeping healthy in a valley with hundreds of climbers from all over the world (and thousands of trekkers), plentiful antibiotics, and lots of years for things to stew in a confined area. Everyone on our trip was sick in some form for some amount of time, and a few were hit badly enough to have to discontinue their ascent, meeting us only on the way down. Acute gastroenteritis (shit-barfs in the coloquial), respiratory infections, and the elusive Khumbu cough, a dry cough that doesn't resolve until you go down a LOT - these are often incapacitating and occasionally immune to antibiotic treatment. So train, yes, but carry a lot of drugs.

The main trekking route is indeed a Disneyland of sorts, and being in a large group made things much easier in many ways. The Sherpas (historical traders from Tibet who settled in the high valleys of Nepal about 500 years ago and are extremely strong at altitude) who porter, guide, and organize for us are amazingly hard working and attentive, and will run ahead to get tea or lunch started, load duffels on yaks, put bags in rooms, and a thousand other things that make our lives smoother. Most of them have a long relationship with Alpine Ascents, and the generosity of spirit they show is amazing.

We trekked up with the team of Everest climbers and guides who would be staying and climbing on the mountain for the next six weeks. It was a big group, but nice to get to talk to a variety of people, and interesting to get to know the climbers a bit before wishing them luck and heading back down. We had the opportunity to have lunch in base camp before heading back down, and the digs are nice!! They're there for some time, so the facilities (dining tent, outhouses, tents) are nice, and the food was great. We walked up close to the famous Khumbu icefall, a maze of shifting, broken glacier, and all agreed that we were glad we wouldn't have to walk through it!

A few odd things: after leaving the little airport at Lukla, we didn't see another wheel or cart until we returned. The terrain is too steep and broken - everything is carried by humans or yaks (or mule or zopkyo, a yak/cow crossbreed). And for many days we never heard an engine - no generators, no flights overhead. It is odd to realize that you haven't heard anything far away except for rockfall - everything you hear is close to you, within eyeshot. Yet there was internet in literally all but two of the villages we stayed in - ha!

The rest of the trekkers headed down and four of us (one had gotten quite sick) took a 5-day side trip to climb Island Peak, only 15 feet shorter than Denali! But so much more accessible. It's rock and trail about 2/3 of the way up, then a bit of glacier and at last some steep ice, which Chewang went ahead and fixed ropes on so we could climb up safely. Nice to be on a mountain instead of down in the valleys for a while!

Back down here in Kathmandu, a good rain had cleared out the smog, so it wasn't so much of a shock to our system. Amazing how fast you can readjust to cars and signs and civilization. A good shower, some fresh fruit, and cotton, and it's almost like we never left. But it's interesting to have seen another corner of the world, another cultural reference that people talk about, another understanding of a common experience. I managed not to offend any locals too much, or accidentally do anything terribly sacrilegious, so hopefully I'll get to come back and lead this trip in the future...

Off and trekking

Well, I didn't manage to put this up before I left, but here in Namche, two days' hike in, there is high speed internet, so now I can put the link up. Cybercasts for the Everest Base Camp trek and Island Peak climb are at http://www.alpineascents.com/everest-trek-cybercast.asp

We were able to fly in with no issues on our scheduled day - the weather up at 9000' at Lukla is often windy or cloudy, and it's one of those runways you don't get a second chance at! But all was well, and we're on schedule for the trek. Lots of time before and on these first few days has been spent getting logistics communicated all around - two trekkers are coming out early, some are staying late with their Everest climber family members, and five of us are taking a side trip to climb Island peak after visiting base camp. Lots of supplies and people and arrangements in lots of directions! The Sherpa staff is amazing - this trip or the expedition could not happen without them.

I think this is the last internet connection for a while, so until we get back to Namche in two weeks or so, enjoy the cybercasts!

Nepal

Well, things are rarely what you expect - that's really true of almost everything (OK, except maybe some 9-5 jobs ;-). Nepal had been built up so much by other people and other people that the reality of what I found here on my own did not help my mood much for the first few days, but eventually the walking meditation that is long days and lots of distance helped bring me back to center.

In all honesty, I've found Nepal to be very much like India with two very important distinctions. One, there's a tiny fraction of the population, and two, there haven't been roads built to every village town. Yet. This means that you can have the idyllic trekking experience, away from roads but with lovely lodges and tea houses, in the high mountains, and there's a lot less waste and crowding. But there's still trash in the ravines and ditches. There's still one guy trying to fit his wife and two kids in the bus seat next to me. There's still tons of pollution, particularly in the city, and people still try to rip you off. They just do it with a smile instead of indifference.

All that said, it was beautiful most of the time, and I know how to get most of the above-mentioned drawbacks. I think many people who love the supposed Shangri-la of Nepal skip all the dirty parts, and just fly straight to Lukla and the Disneyland version of Nepal that is the major trekking circuits. There, kids don't bug you for handouts, the trails are wide, and businesses abound to serve your every desire as a trekker: chocolate cake, hot showers, telephone... you're still trekking, living rougher than we do at home, but things are pretty much oriented toward getting the trekker what he/she needs, and in a beautiful place.

The rhododenderons are in bloom, as well as white magnolia trees, and it's cool to see a forest sprinkled with white and pink and red across the hillside. I took a bus to Jiri and walked past Lukla (the fly-in point for our upcoming trek) to the edge of the park at Monjo in four days, then walked back in five. I didn't get to start seeing the really high mountains, but some glimpses here and there of snow-capped peaks are making me look forward to the scenery we'll get to soon.

Treading water

Not literally, but the last week has just been spent visiting with friends and trying to figure out what on earth to do with my two weeks of free time. A few plans made and fallen through, and ultimately my frustration with feeling like I was just here taking up time prompted me to change my ticket to Nepal. I'm tired of trying to figure out how to spend my time when I could be walking in the mountains!

I've basically just been hanging around Bangalore and Delhi, being social. Good to spend time catching up with people here - went to see the movie "Up in the Air" (interesting), met with some of the people involved in making Samim's RAAM ride a reality, finally went to Qutb Minar (a beautiful stone minaret in Delhi), and otherwise did a whole lot of... not much. I've gotten to exercise a little, but it's hard in crowded cities with bad air quality. So as always I'm torn between spending time with the people I want to catch up with and needing to take care of myself. Almost two weeks here reconnecting with friends, and it's time for me to run off.

So, tomorrow going to Kathmandu, then off to the hills. To avoid the possibility of being stuck in Lukla by weather, unable to fly back to Kathmandu to meet our trekkers, I'm going to take the bus to Jiri and trek to Lukla, then as far up the Khumbu as I can with the week and a half I have, walking back through Lukla to Jiri and the return bus to Kathmandu. That's the plan, anyway! I'll let you know in a week or two how it worked out...

24 hours, 701 kilometers

You know how sometimes you hear about people doing crazy things, amazing things that you can't actually imagine achieving, and you wonder how they got there? Samim Rizvi, a good friend here in Bangalore, has done exactly that, and it is even more amazing to watch someone you've seen work to get there actually achieve what they've set out to do.

I met Sam in 2008 at my first attempt at MTB Himachal here in India, his first time on a mountain bike. (He was in my posting then, and in the CNN-IBN video clip.) Some weeks later I visited him and several other new friends in Bangalore, and over the last year and a half we have become close friends. He's actually a road racer, and has had his share of drama and thwarted plans since then in getting to this point - a 24-hour time trial to qualify for the Race Across America (RAAM).

There's no qualifying races in India or close by, European races are prohibitively difficult for Indian nationals to get visas for, and the Cycling Federation of India is so mired in politics and chaos that it is non-functional for the purposes of officiating an event. So his sponsor, Bulldog Sports (for whom he also teaches fitness and training classes), organized a solo event with media and the support of the many people who have been there for Samim. At 8:14am on Saturday, Sam started riding 70km loops on the highway just outside town with a vehicle and several other riders following in support. The rules for a time trial prohibit drafting, so there would be no pace line, just one rider with his head into the wind.

The weather here in March is hot, so by 2pm he had slowed a bit, suffering in the heat (maybe 98 degrees?). Finally the sun went down around 6:30 and things cooled off a bit, but that's when the 12 hours of cycling in the dark start. Much of the hype has died down, the other riders are gone, and just the people staying for the duration are around to lend encouragement. His family and sponsors and cycling friends (and I) took turns riding in the support vehicle, taking video and trying to help with positive energy, biding time at the Cafe Coffee Day in between. If there are any support heros in this event, it is the driver and crew of the van who stayed up and functional for the entire duration. These seemed to be the hardest hours.

At 3am, six other riders arrived to join Sam on his circuits and provide mental and emotional support. You know who your friends are when they get up at 2am to ride 140km in the dark with you!! Wow. Again, no one was allowed to ride ahead, but talking to the rider beside you and knowing there are more behind helps keep the remaining energy in your legs flowing.

As the sun came up again, Samim completedin 23 hours the 425 miles (668km) required to qualify for the RAAM, in the middle of the plains with the crew and two riders who had stayed with him. What an amazing moment in the journey - a sweaty hug can mean so much. Then, he got back on his bike and kept riding to complete the 24 hour trial.

Back at the start point once again, Sam got off his bike at 8:13am, having cycled 701 kilometers. His sponsor was of course there, Mom and Dad and most of the people important in his life had come, as well as the media and a famous actor in local film, to congratulate him in this enormous accomplishment. No rest for the weary: interviews, questions, autographs both given and received, all these kept everyone busy for the next three hours. Those of us who got no sleep were nodding off on the way home, and I fell into bed at 12:30 and slept for 16 hours. I can't imagine Sam's exhaustion, and hope he has gotten some rest amidst the excitement of family and media.

More on the RAAM later, but in short, it's a race from Oceanside, CA, to Annapolis, MD, about 3000 miles in under 12 days. The qualifying committee still has to accept this ride to accept his entry, but he seems to be poised to come, with Ronnie of Bulldog Sports set on making it happen. The same crew will be coming with him, and I'll be joining the team, for the start on June 9. Until then, sleep, planning, and, oh yeah - more training. :-)