Mountain Light



I am now on Day 3 of my extended solo trek to Cholatse base camp.

My couple of days in Kathmandu passed quickly. Holly arrived by bus from the Annapurna region and we had some fun meals together. I got all my gear sorted out. The second afternoon, I took a taxi to Boudhanath Temple, an epicenter of Tibetan Buddhism in Kathmandu, and walked around soaking it in.

Throughout my time in Kathmandu, I was happily surprised by the sunlight. It was the clear, mountain-like light that I recall from my first visit in 1982. On recent visits, the city has been choked by air pollution. I assumed that the striking sunlight which had made an impression on me was a thing of the past. But now it was back. Part of this was the season: Kathmandu in autumn has clearer weather than in the more humid pre-monsoon springs when I have visited recently. And part of it was due to a major holiday, which suppressed traffic and kept the streets relatively empty. Whatever the cause, it was comforting. Here is a photo of the afternoon light at Boudhanath.

The following morning, October 25, I flew to Lukla to begin my trek. I will meet Holly and the rest of the climbing team at Cholatse base camp on November 3. Given the unpredictable nature of commercial flights to Lukla, I traveled in style, sharing a helicopter with a climbing guide for another expedition and a cargo of their supplies. The chopper was continuing up to the village of Namche, which it would take me two days to walk to. I declined their offer of a ride, as I was looking forward to covering the terrain on foot.

Lukla is where the vast majority of Everest region trekkers and climbers begin their journey. I know a number of you have been there. I passed through it with Jill in 1990, and again in 2021 with my Everest team. In 2021, after being dismayed by how much Kathmandu had changed in the thirty years since I had last been there, I wondered what the Khumbu region would look like. I ended up rejoicing in how much of the magic remained. But I also noted that the Khumbu in 2021 was void of virtually all tourism, as Covid was still casting its long shadow. I wondered then how it would feel in a normal tourism year.

Well, this is a normal tourism year, and October is peak trekking season. Moreover, the first two days of my trek, up to Namche, would take me on the most trafficked two days of the most popular trek in Nepal. My expectations were muted. Worst case, it would only be a few days before I left the crowds behind and headed into less traveled valleys. I climbed out of the chopper, shouldered my pack, and hit the trail.

Writing this from Namche, I can happily report that the magic of the Khumbu endures, even on the most frequented trails in peak trekking season. While there are indeed far more groups, and more trailside lodges catering to them, the core essence of what I loved about Nepal forty years ago remains. The same beautiful countryside, the same simplicity of mountain villages reached only by trails, the same politeness and dignity of the local people, the same vibrancy of culture. It is remarkable to me that this had held up as streams of tourists pass through, but it has.

The first two days up to Namche were on many dimensions more satisfying than expected. The long lines of trekkers I kept having to pass were a minor annoyance, but no more than that. I decided to get an early start the second day to get out ahead of them, which worked great. Here is a photo of the view out my lodge window as I got ready to leave.

Ahead of the trekking groups, I delighted in sharing the trail with local porters, and in exchanging greetings with villagers working in their fields or sweeping their shop fronts. I thought about how wonderful the Nepali greeting “Namaste ” is: “I salute your divine qualities “; offered to strangers of all types, and unfailingly returned.

I also delighted in having to pull aside to let the yak trains pass; their drivers uttering the familiar guttural grunts to direct their charges. Equally, I delighted in hearing the bells of oncoming mule caravans, looking the way they did centuries ago carrying goods over the passes from Tibet, on these very trails. Only they now carry propane tanks and goods associated with the trekking trade to villages and climbing camps.

And then there is the mountain light. As with the light in Kathmandu, it is present with an intensity that I haven’t experienced in recent visits. This may be in part because I am in the middle of a stretch of great weather, but it also has much to do with the season. My Everest climbs were of necessity in the spring, but October and November are renowned for their clear weather, especially in the mornings. In ways I can’t adequately put into words, walking through crisp mountain air as the sun warms your body and hits the surrounding peaks is transporting.

I pulled into Namche yesterday afternoon and checked into the same lodge I stayed at in 2021 with my Everest team. The mother and son who run the place welcomed me back warmly. This morning, I was greeted with this view over Namche from my room.

I am staying two days here to help with acclimatization. After an early breakfast this morning, I hiked up the ridge above town to a popular spot from where you can see Everest. Here is the view. You will need to zoom in to see Everest itself, which is the small pyramid in the distant middle, rising above the mountain wall connecting Lhotse and Nuptse. It all looks much closer in real life.

When I stood at this exact spot in 2021, I remember looking up at Everest’s summit, as if I were looking at the moon, and saying to myself in awe: “I am going there”. It didn’t quite happen in 2021, but it did a year later. This morning, I stood at that same spot for a long time, looking up, saying to myself with deep satisfaction: “I have been there”. It was a feeling for a lifetime.

But here is something else. This morning, I looked up at the peak on the far left in the photo and realized it was Cholatse. I could see the exact ridge we will be climbing. I said to myself: ” Holly and I are going there”. Another feeling for a lifetime.

Tomorrow, I will leave the main trekking route and head into more remote valleys. My first stop will be the village of Thame, where Lakpa Rita Sherpa – our Sirdar on Everest in 2021- grew up. Every day, Lakpa walked the distance I will trek tomorrow round trip, to attend school in Namche. (But he wasn’t carrying a 35 lb pack!)

If all goes according to plan, I will cross the 17,500 foot Renjo La pass on October 31 and descend to the village of Gokyo. My guess is that Gokyo will be the next place that has internet, so I will likely post again from there.

All good so far. I am loving the mountain light.