‘All truely great thoughts are conceived whilst walking’- Friedrich Nietzche
Dingboche: 4360m. Our second acclimatisation day, our first day of being shrouded in cloud, and my 25th birthday.
Various physical challenges were increasingly grumbling, with the power of Dahl baht, and for some, even diamox now being questionable. The real challenge to make Everest Base Camp was becoming apparent: the mental one. Our teahouse cheerily reminded us of this fact; called ‘Good luck’.
Altitude and the challenges ahead were on everyone’s minds as we set out from our teahouse in the mist. Horror stories relayed by those returning on foot echoed in our minds as breaths became shorter and rest breaks longer. No other choruses of yaks or groups passed. Silence hung in the thinned air, and was only broken every so often by those already struck by the dust-induced Khumbu cough.
The Khumbu cough is an irritant that can linger once home. Stubbornly it resists reality and attracts a few concerned looks in its wake. At times I welcomed the interruption to my day, as it was a spark to jolt me out of my return to normality. My physical reminder of the sublimely-magical experience had, in the absence of the valleys and peaks where it came from.
The second acclimatisation day was one of the first opportunities to reflect, and face any creeping doubts, as we wearily trudged up the path, with the odd cough in tow, and unsure of what was to come.
I usually welcome misty mountain hikes in the UK, but the Himalayas had presented not a single mountain, but a multiple sea of them. A wild landscape that speaks without humanly constraints, to induce utter joy, awe, and be a welcome distraction from our own insignificant- but still at times physically and mentally painful- existence as we aimed for Everest Base Camp.
This day however, took hiking back to the introspective journey, with the destination soon forgotten. The limited and unremarkable visibility only allowed for a focus on the next step and one’s own thoughts. Many conflicts came into my mind what surprised me. From a desire to return to Dingboche for apple pie, to whether I would make it to Base Camp. Deeper reflections that had been developing since I started the hike also arose. After all, the meditating rhythm of walking each day, and the spiritual nature of the mountains often unveils the most unexpected realisations.
As quickly as the clouds come, they melt away. By the time we reached Nagartsang at 5080m the sun was out, and awestruck exclamations interrupted introspection as we reunited in wonder at what we could see. Colourful prayer flags fluttered in the wind with stonewalled Dingboche below, and the mountains – ever present, back in view.
‘Will I make what’ I reminded myself. I had made it.
Highlights include dancing as we walked, and belly laughing hysterically (definitely influenced by the lack of oxygen). All the ridiculous moments which still make me laugh, such as waking to my roommate screaming at suspected rats. Similarly I tend to remember all the glorious souls I met, the deep connections, my surprise birthday cake, and clutching at warm tea in smokey teahouses. And the overwhelming silence when I walked alone. For these reasons reaching Base Camp is far from the only memorable moment. Instead it is a piece of the constellation.
Letting go of this that day reminded me of how much more mountains offer asides from an end goal. When one remembers this, glorious moments tend to arise from all directions, as the rest of the hike confirmed. Not forgetting that apple pie of course.
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