Month: March 2022

A couple of nights ago, Jill dropped me at Logan airport and I repeated the same journey I made a year ago: Qatar Airways to Doha, an eight hour layover in one of the nicest airport lounges on the planet, then another Qatar flight to Kathmandu. There was a great view of the Annapurna range out the window shortly before landing.

When I arrived in Kathmandu last year, my frame of reference compared it to a place I had experienced in the early 1980’s and 90’s, when I soaked up the Shangri-La vibe and used it as a base for outdoor adventures that became cherished life memories.

My return this year feels different. My frame of reference is strongly linked to last year, when I arrived in Kathmandu eagerly preparing to climb Everest, and then returned after almost two months, replaying in my mind an aborted summit attempt and a challenging descent through a blizzard. The post climb week I spent quarantined at the Yak and Yeti hotel, with the city in full Covid lockdown, was intense and full of reflection; one of those intersections of time and place that stay with you for a long while.

So when I arrived yesterday at Kathmandu’s Tribhuvan airport, I wasn’t thinking about how it looked when I first landed here in 1982. Then, I stood outside a small customs building on a grass-lined runway, savoring the mountain air and the sunlight filtering through the trees. Instead, as we left the crowded, sprawling airport yesterday and drove through chaotic streets full of cars and motorcycles, I was thinking back to last year’s arrival. We drove the exact same route to the hotel. The sights out the window were the same. It had the feeling of ritual. As I re-entered the Yak and Yeti, I felt like I was being teleported back twelve months to that same intense intersection of time and place.

It is good to be back. I continue to mourn the population growth, vehicular traffic, and air pollution that have turned what used to be an exotic valley town into a crowded Asian city. But Kathmandu remains a fascinating place, and the Nepali people remain astoundingly friendly and polite. I am also excited about what I am here to do, which includes more than just repeating last year’s climb.

A different approach

I am climbing Everest with a different team this year, and will explain more about that in a future post. I am also approaching base camp by a different route, accompanied by good friends Bob Burnham, Ann Burnham, and Brad Brown. Here is a photo of Bob, Ann, and I upon arrival at Kathmandu airport:

Brad had arrived a couple of days ahead of us. Here is photo of him taking the town by storm:

Our trek will take us through the relatively remote territory east of Everest to the base of Makalu, the fifth highest mountain in the world. Brad and Ann will then helicopter back to Kathmandu and fly home. Bob and I will continue over a series of high passes and drop down into the Everest region. The remoteness of the area requires us to be self sufficient, with porters assisting in carrying all the supplies and gear necessary for the three week journey. The high passes will involve some technical climbing at altitudes around 20,000 feet, as well as extended glacier travel. We will be supported by experienced Sherpa guides.

Here is a photo from Google Earth that provides an overview. The red line shows the standard trek route from Lukla to Everest base camp, through the heart of the Solu-Khumbu region. This is the approach I did last year, and the approach the rest of my Everest team will do this year. The blue line shows the route Bob, Ann, Brad, and I will follow through the Makalu-Barun region, starting from the village of Num in the lower right corner. (Num is not labeled. It is at the top of the squiggly yellow line, which is a dirt road built recently to facilitate construction of a dam on the Arun river.) Makalu base camp, where Ann and Brad will depart the trek, is located on a glacier near the “M” in Makalu. The village of Dingboche, where Bob and I will conclude our traverse of the high passes, is in the upper left, where the blue and red lines connect. I will meet my Everest team here, and then head north on the red line to Everest base camp. Bob will head south on the red line to Lukla, from where he will fly back to Kathmandu.

As mentioned in a previous post, the “Makalu Three Passes” trek has intrigued me since hearing about it over thirty years ago. When I decided to return to Everest, I liked the idea of injecting a new element of life experience into the equation. The area is far removed from the trekking mainstream, the terrain will be stunning, and the idea of climbing over high passes from one mountain region to another excites me. It will also be great to share the experience with friends. At the same time, I need to be mindful and conserve energy. It will be important to arrive at Everest base camp with mental and physical batteries fully charged.

The past day and a half have been filled with tactical details: obtaining stacks of rupee notes to pay the porters, submitting paperwork for permits, doing a final gear check, and handing off a large duffel of equipment that will be sent directly to Everest base camp to await my arrival. I am leaving a small duffel here at the hotel, with clean clothes and other items, for my return in a couple of months. As I packed it, I was thinking about how much will play out between now and then, and how many hopes and dreams are in the mix.

We fly tomorrow morning to a town named Tumlingtar, in the lowlands south of the Makalu region. From there we will hop in a jeep for a bumpy five hour ride up to Num, spend the night, and then start walking. The flights are notorious for weather-related issues, and the one to Tumlingtar was cancelled yesterday and today. We are hoping for better luck tomorrow, but will get there one way or the other.

In contrast to the Everest region, internet service in the Makalu-Barun is essentially non existent. The next time I post something will likely be from Dingboche, which Bob and I should reach around April 20. I should have lots to report.

Thanks for following along!

The winter has flown by. I leave for Nepal in a week. Time is accelerating and the days are filled with endless pre-departure details. Things like final gear purchases, reviewing packing lists, doctors and dentist appointments, and tying off responsibilities so I can spend two months off the grid. I am also in the final stages of my training, pounding out the last leg burning hill climbs and strength workouts, while lightening the overall volume to assure I get on the plane rested and ready to go.

Our final weeks in Vermont were great. Jill and I moved from a rental house in Stowe, where we spent the first half of the winter, to another in Greensboro, where we enjoyed interacting with the rugged Northeast Kingdom landscape, interesting people, and a vast cross country trail network. I headed out for multiple hour skis; crossing fields, ridges, and valleys; marveling at how much terrain I could cover between villages. There were endless kilometers of trails that looked like this:

I also continued to put in at least one solid hike a week, carrying a pack weighted with water jugs. As I have done each of the last few years, one of them was up Mt Washington, where a winter ascent provides a big mountain experience unique to New England. When you get above tree line on Washington, you are truly in the realm of the mountain gods. Here is a photo of my friend Graham, half way to the summit on a perfect bluebird day:

And here is a photo of where I am soon headed, taken last spring on one of our acclimatization hikes. This view thrilled me when I first saw it thirty years ago, it thrilled me last year, and it will thrill me again in a few weeks:

Past readers will recognize many of the features in the photo: the base camp tents at the bottom, the Khumbu icefall in the middle, the Lhotse face in the upper right, and Everest’s summit in the upper left. Last spring, we got to Camp 4 at the South Col, in the notch at the top middle, before the second major cyclone to hit the mountain in a month forced us to turn around and descend the Lhotse face in a blizzard.

Here is a photo I encountered recently of that cyclone as it made landfall on the Indian subcontinent, while we lay in our tents high on Everest hoping to climb to the summit before the storm hit.

This photo reminds me of how much our fate last year was determined by the weather gods, and how much I hope they smile on us this year.

Mountaineers talk frequently about having their gear “dialed in”, by which they mean that they have fine-tuned every detail and are calmly and confidently ready to put it to use. For me, this concept applies beyond gear. The months and weeks leading up to an expedition are a continual process of optimizing the tactical, physical, and mental factors that will be required for success. I am happy to report that I am feeling dialed in.

On the tactical dimension, I like what I know about the small, experienced group I will be climbing with. I have methodically planned my approach to the mountain, including how I will acclimatize, where I will use bottled oxygen, and what kind of Sherpa support I will engage. While my gear is largely the same as last year, I have made some small adjustments. As shared previously, I felt really good about our approach and team last year. The only thing that didn’t go as hoped was the weather, over which we had no control. The changes I have made this year reflect a combination of fine tuning and “mixing it up” on a few dimensions. I will describe these changes in detail in a future post.

On the physical dimension, I am right where I want to be. Again, I was really pleased with how my body performed last year, but a few adjustments to my training program have me feeling even more ready this year. Those of you with endurance sport experience are familiar with the stage I am at now. After ten months of heavy base training, on top of three years of prior preparation, “the hay is in the barn” and it is time to taper toward a peak. As I lighten up the overall training volume, interspersed with a few high intensity sessions, my body is starting to feel rested and turbo charged. It is a great feeling, and an even greater feeling at age 62, where holding one’s own against the passage of time is a challenge. I was reflecting today that, depending on the choices I make after I return from Everest in June, I may never again be at this level of fitness. It was a simultaneously gratifying and wistful realization.

I am also feeling good on the mental dimension. First and foremost, I am glad I am returning to Everest. The passage of time brings clarity to decisions, and this one is feeling right. Family and friends continue to be wonderfully supportive. This means the world. It is also striking how beneficial having experienced something previously can be. I picture clearly what I am heading into. This streamlines the mental energy involved. I know where I am going, I know why I am going, and I know what I need to do when I get there. I am dialed in.

Yet there are still moments when I wake up in the middle of the night and realize I am thinking about the mountain. Sometimes it is about mundane logistical details, but more often it is about moments up high, where you are pushing your physical limits to the edge in a foreign and hostile environment. A former astronaut who climbed Everest some years ago described his summit night as the closest thing to a space walk that he would ever experience on earth. Space walks can be both exhilarating and challenging. While this climb is a gift and a life long dream, there are occasional feelings of dread in the mix.

One thing that will be different this year, involving no feelings of dread, is my approach to base camp. As described in a previous post, three friends will join me in trekking through the remote valleys east of Everest to the base of Makalu, the fifth highest mountain in the world. Two of us will then climb over three 20,000 foot passes and drop down into the Khumbu Valley near Everest, where I will meet my climbing team en route to base camp. This trek will be an adventure in its own right and I am really looking forward to it. Stay tuned for details.

I will start posting more frequently as things unfold in Nepal. For those of you who followed my climb last year, I will focus on what is different this year. For those of you new to this blog, who when streaming a second season on Netflix find past highlights helpful, a quick scan of the archives from last spring will provide relevant context.

Last year at this time, just before leaving for Nepal, I did a final traverse of the Presidential Range with son Will, including Mount Washington. Reflecting on it afterward, I wrote: “This day was all that I cherish in the mountains: exhilarating beauty, physical challenge, spiritual connection with nature, and the reward of shared experience……All of the Everest prep I have been doing would have been worth it if the only thing it did was get me in shape for (this)”. Here is a photo of me on Mt Washington recently. I was feeling exactly the same way.

I fly to Kathmandu on March 27. Lots to look forward to!