Everest Base Camp

Our day began with a five hour drive through the never ending alpine desert. We climbed a pass that made the previous ones seem like a bunny hill. At the top, we had a much closer view of the Great Himalayan Range.

"Which one is Everest?" I asked.

"Right there!" the guide pointed.

"I don't see any mountain there."

"Everest is that dark cloud."

Standing at the foot of Everest was supposed to be the climax of the pricey tour. I hoped that it would clear up while we were here. The other side of the pass descended the same distance down into the nearby valley. Tibet has some strange ideas of "passes" but I suppose it is the highest place in the world, so you have to do what you can.

On the way to the camp, we passed quite a few quaint villages and some old abandoned clay settlements and one built into a cave. We also passed the small Rongphuk Monastery, highest in the world. Finally, we arrived at the city of sturdy yak tents, the Everest Base Camp.

Every tent was a hotel/restaurant, with names such as Potala Hotel, HIllary Hotel, and my personal favorite, the Gardan of Eden Hotel. How a garden of eden, or any garden for that matter could grow above the timberline is a mystery to me. The insides were full of many couches, with brightly colored embroidered cushions. We had a lunch of plain fried rice with an egg. Yummy.

While we ate, an American and his Chinese girlfriend had a chat with us.

"You spending the night up here?" He asked.

We all nodded.

"Cause my guide doesn't want us to stay because of the elevation. He says it all starts with a headache, then at one AM, boom, that's it."

"What's 'that's it'?" I asked.

"That's just it, he didn't tell me. He just said 'that's it' "

"Sounds ominous."

"I might descend."

We decided to climb even higher.

The would be view of Everest was obscured by clouds, it looked like a Pink Floyd album cover (not really). We had planned on walking to the start point of the Everest climb, but the wind pummeling and the elevation killed our desire. We instead payed for the bus to take us closer to the great mountain we couldn't see. At the base was a prayer flag covered hill. We started for the top when an army man stopped us.

"You speak English" the soldier asked. The started without waiting for our reply, "Your permit has a name that is not your guide's name. You cannot enter."

"What? How is it not our guide?" Wen asked.

"What's going on?" I asked the guide.

"It is not my name on the permit."

"Then whose name is it?" Wen demanded.

"Another guide from agency."

"Why isn't it your name? We paid a lot of money to come here and now we can't go in? I want my money back! This camp was the whole reason for the tour!"

"Can't you reason with them?" I asked.

"No, they don't like me here. I already had problem before."

"I'm writing an angry email to the company. This is BS!" Wen yelled.

Our guide cowered from her wrath.

"Dude." I explained. "We aren't angry with you, don't worry. I am mad at your boss for putting the wrong name on your permit."

"It isn't that great on the other side of the gate. You can't see it anyway."

"I don't care if it is great of not. I paid for it!" Said Wen.

"It wasn't my boss fault. It was my fault."

"What?" Now I started to feel my temper flare.

"My friend picked up permit. The old rule say you need no guide name. Now they change rule."

We stood there, ready to destroy this man. He was a cool guy, but a terrible guide. If he wasn't going to teach us about Tibet, he could at least get the permits settled. Caroline and Evan had walked away to get some space. Jackie just stood there, taking more photos, unfazed by anything. Wen let out her fury and I'd calmed down quickly myself. We couldn't even see Everest, so being 100ft closer didn't really matter.

We started walking back, admiring the towering walls of rock on either side of us. It was a like a stroll through Mordor.

"I will take you to a very nice monastery. You can tie your flags there." Our guide was only a few inches tall at this point.

"I'm not mad anymore Calden; my anger goes away quickly. It's just a stupid hill anyway right?"

We walked an hour back down the road until we saw a small decrepit monastery built into a mass of rocks on the side of the road. At 5300m, the two stories of stairs towered hundreds of feet above as far as perceived distance. Hardest stairs ever. Our guide tried the door at the top.

"It's locked. Too bad, it is very nice." He just couldn't win.

"How many people live here?"

"Only one. He must be in town."

He directed us to a pole with prayer flags stretching in all directions, a rainbow spiderweb, sitting in the mountains. We all tied our rolls together, tied them between two nodes and let the wind take them into the air, adding another layer of color to the dense weaving. This done, I walked out of the grounds a bit. Then i saw it.

"You guys, come here!"

Poking out higher than the clouds, there stood the peak of Everest!

Wen was ecstatic. "Looks like our prayer flags worked!"

We all flashed photos, filling the peaceful place with the sound of incessant clicking. Just when we thought the view could not be any more clear, the clouds would open up a little more, showing Qomolangma even more. There are probably 10 photos of me in front of Everest with varying levels of visibility. We eventually went back to our tent to find the American and his girlfriend gone.

"We, that's it!" I joked.

Everest made its disappearing/reappearing act until the sunset made it glow bright gold. I tried to watch the whole sunset, but the weather had turned cold and the pummeling 50mph wind was getting hard to handle. I looked to the exposed peak and wondered how cold it was at the top and how much faster the wind would be without the hindrance of anything. I abandoned the already lost dreams of reaching the summit. Just basking at the golden glow at the base camp made life seem a little too wonderful to abandon just for another check off my list.

Once in the shelter of the tent, I had a bowl of noodle soup, topped with a fried egg. EBC was a gourmand paradise for sure. It is amazing how tired one gets after hiking for five hours at 5300m and hiding in the shelter of a yak hair tent from the winds off the world's highest peak, warmed by burning yak dung.

"You should sleep early, we leave early. Tomorrow is a long drive."

"Can we watch the sunrise?" Wen asked.

"No time."

"What time is sunrise?"

"Seven."

"And when do we leave?"

"Seven thirty."

"So we can watch the sunrise then."

"No time."

Wen opened her mouth to argue, but I stopped her. I think the guide just liked to tell us "no time."

The couches were also a quite comfortable bed, the back cushions became pillows. The owner tucked us all in with about four blankets each, which seemed unnecessary since the yak dung had warmed the tent to about 30C. He took special care to tuck me in, returning three times to make sure my yak blanket was in the right place. We turned out the lights and drifted off quickly, soothed by the sound of the wind outside, not entering our tent.

I awoke in darkness, needing to pee and my head was in blinding pain. I felt my way clumsily through the tent. Wen offered me her headlamp. My jaunt outside had me gasping for breath. I took two ibuprofen to kill the headache. One hour later, still awake, I popped two more; the first two did nothing.

Jackie, hearing the sound of the pill bottle, asked. "Is that headache medicine?"

"Yes Jackie."

"Can I have some," his voice quivering in pain.

I heard Caroline and Evan stir. I dared not look at my watch, but I knew it was 1AM: That's it! Turning over was exhausting and I could not stop turning because I couldn't decide which side had more air. I was gasping so much, I feared I would never sleep or maybe sleep forever. With the headache still booming, I laid on my back and did meditative breathing, while I waited for the ibuprofen to kick in. Yoga breathing was actually too slow to get enough air. After staring at the dark ceiling, praying for the sun to light it up, the headache finally dulled to a minor throb and I was able to sleep poorly.

We all awoke groggily and had tsampa and yak butter tea for breakfast. My morning urination was greeted with a perfectly clear view of Qomolangma. It looked quite small in all it grandeur, without the clouds to give it perspective. I was really too cold and tired to stare continuously at the sunrise. It was still a highlight of my life.