It's a layered thing

Controlling one’s temperature through proper clothing is a time-consuming task on our daily walks. Starting out in the morning we have at least two layers on our legs and three on our upper bodies. Depending upon what Manoj says we will likely get into during the day, we may increase that by a layer on each half of our bodies. Carol has just resigned herself to the fact that she’d rather be too hot than too cold. The thermals which she wears each day will “wick” the sweat off the body, but if she gets too cold, then there’s nothing she can do about that. Rain gear must be carried in the day-packs because we don’t know what is in store for us, and gloves, two types of hats (wool for warmth and brimmed for protection from the sun) have to be carried. In addition, there are ear protectors, snow gaiters, scarves for the throat, and whatever else we can think of to ward of the cold at high elevations, are carried.
Getting warmed up by climbing, usually means that we start shedding layers after a half an hour or so. Then we spend the rest of the day mixing and matching to meet the conditions. We’ll take our jackets off because we’re too hot, then we’ll pass through the shadow of a mountain and the lack of sunlight chills us so we adjust. Later, we get to an open area where the sun beats down on us in the thin air, and we shed clothes. Then we’ll pass through a snow field, and the wind whistling off the snow is cold, so layers go back on. So it’s a constant take on - take off clothing. The morning temp when we start is usually just above freezing, and then warms up to the 50’s and 60’s as the day warms and we get into the sunshine. Sometimes when we take a break, we’ll just find the spot with the most sunlight, and just literally bask in the warmth.
We have down jackets which are provided by the outfitters, but we only use those for camp. They’re just too hot for the trail. In the evenings after getting our sponge bath and putting on our “Cleanest dirty shirt,” we wear the down jackets in and around camp because it means that we can wear less clothing and still be warm. Again, depending upon the general weather, the tent can get toasty warm when the sun beats down upon it and we take off the jackets and can actually sit around in tee shirts.
But we rarely go outside the tent without our big jackets.
Adjust, adjust, adjust. That’s the keyword.

Trek day 7
This morning as we were climbing to see the base of Everest, I was really digging for breath as we passed the 16,500 foot mark. Manoj asked me why I was having such a hard time. “Cause it’s hard, Manoj, that’s why.” He replied: “Every time I ask you how you are, you always say, you‚re okay.”
“Well, I am okay, but that doesn’t mean that it's not hard.” We talked about the physical differences in last year’s Camino over 30 days and this one concentrated in 10. In the end we agreed that it’s just the altitude that changes the whole mix. We climbed in Spain, but not at anything approaching these altitudes. We walked much further every day in Spain, but not at these altitudes.
We awoke this morning at six to check the weather and see if it was worth going to see if Everest would show herself in total, as she was want to do yesterday. It was clear as we ate breakfast, but then the fog started rolling in, and it seemed very discouraging. Ran, the cook, who has done this many times, said it wasn’t worth it, because if it was like this at camp, the base of Everest would only be worse. Manoj left it to us, and we decided that we had come so far, that if we didn’t try, we’d regret it all our lives. So we packed lunch and set off in the overhead fog.
As we continued it seemed to us that the fog was getting thinner, and soon off to the left, we could see the wall of mountains that had been our guide for several days. It sat there partially hidden in the fog, but coming clearer as we went. Sort of like Salome with her seven veils, each one revealing more and more. It looked very ethereal. Then we could see Everest in front of us, hiding behind that last veil which she finally took off and showed her beauty. This was what we had come for and it was worth it.
Everest, Lhotse, and Lhotse Shar are seemingly all connected in one mountain, with Everest being the jewel, but that’s in height only, because she’s not a mountain that would stand out by herself. Lhotse, on the other hand, is full of crags, and jagged peaks, and is a much more technical mountain to climb. At 27,923 she is the fourth highest mountain. The most striking thing about Everest is just its massiveness. It is just huge. Other mountains are more jagged, some just jut into the air like pinnacles, others have beautiful contours. But Everest is just BIG!
When they did the first calculations of mountain height in the mid 1800’s this mountain that was just designated as peak XV was not deemed to be anything special. Then the head office got an excited call indicating that they had found the highest mountain in the world by using triangulation from several different points, taking into consideration the curvature of the earth, refraction of light and all the different scientific variances. Well, surprise, the Nepalese and the Tibetans already knew this. The Tibetan name is Chomolongma (spellings all vary in this part of the world) which means: “Goddess, Mother of the World.” The Nepali name is Sagarmatha, which translates to: “Goddess of the sky.” It always amazes me how “Primitive” cultures always get it right without all the stuff we use to figure it all out.
The Brits had a practice of using local names for peaks when possible, but in this case, the head of the “Great Trigonometrical Society of India” decided to name the peak after the previous surveyor general, Sir George Everest. And so the name sticks. Apparently even today the Sherpas refer to the mountain as Everest, even when speaking their own language amongst themselves. But it’s Chomolongma in Tibet, and the mountain is sacred to them.
We met three French climbers yesterday who were trying to get back to Yuba where we started our trek. They were part of a group of eight who had split, five going back with most of the gear and the last three remaining to try to do a couple of last peaks. Their luck ran out, and one of them had severe frostbite on his lips. Manoj said that if he didn’t get medical attention within 48 hours he’d lose them. Not to diminish the fact, but lips, I guess, better than fingers or toes. What with modern plastic surgery, he could come out of it looking better than Mick Jagger. Manoj gave him some medication to alleviate the pain and stop the blistering, but we parted with hope that he would make it to help in time. Help is not just around the corner, here in Tibet. In Nepal, climbers are often airlifted out to safety and to care, but if anything happened to anyone of us, the whole group would have to return. There’s just no other alternative. That is something which has given us pause for consideration. If anything happened to one of us, the trip is over for us all. There’s no splitting up, some going on, some going back. We succeed or fail as a group. Naturally, that weighs a little heavier on the minds of the old farts than it does on the young bucks.
Under the “tragedy and despair for some are lucky breaks for others” category, our yak pas got the information from the French as to what they were climbing and what gear they had left behind in order to simply survive, and that night guided only by the moon and their own instincts and knowledge they went up the mountains and found the stash that had been left behind. They brought back ropes, stoves, food, and general equipment which they simply carried out. They had Manoj’s permission to do so. Not that they needed that, but Manoj’s position was that they left it behind, it would only decay and become useless if left there, and besides it was an ecological offense to leave things behind in the mountains. Manoj is very serious about the mountains. He doesn’t like swearing in them because it desecrates the mountains. They are holy to him. Jim slips up sometimes, surprise, surprise. Like when we encountered the 60% grade over the rock slide. I didn’t know what else to say when he said: ‘That‚s where we‚re going,” besides: “Holy Shit!”
So the yak pas returned with their loot. Some of which they understood, some of which they were poring over trying to make sense of the next day.
As a note of their innocence and naiveté, they returned with about 500 feet of really great climbing rope that had some real monetary value. The rope was colored by sections so that the climbers could tell how much of was left and exactly where they were in climbing. Well, the yak pas liked the colors so they cut it up into three sections by color and divided it. Then they wanted to sell it, but by cutting it up, they essentially rendered it useless for anything beyond tying the lead yak to some big rock and similar uses. Marketing geniuses they are not. Good people they certainly are. But then, I guess being a marketing genius might just disqualify someone from being a good person:-)
Our elevation today reached 17,237 the highest we had physically walked over ourselves so far on the trip. It was grueling, and a reminder of what lies ahead since we have started on our way back to the jeeps and our starting point. Tomorrow we climb for the entire day, since we lost all that elevation on our return here today. Then we’ll go over the highest pass at something over 17,500 plus.
It took us six days to get to the Kangshung face, and will take only four days to return, since we’ll do the short cut over the high pass instead of totally retracing our steps.
Whereas yesterday we climbed that incredible rock slide and gained a thousand feet in elevation, today we had to come down that same treacherous route. We tried to decide whether it was easier to go up it or come down it, there wasn’t any general consensus.
Carol got her hair washed with a little help from a friend. After seven days she was feeling pretty rasty. We try to keep as clean as possible but that is such a relative term. We’re at the point where we’re figuring out how many more shirts we need, whether we make it back to Katmandu without washing more. The question simply comes down to how much can we stand each other and ourselves. We have three more days of trekking, then two days of camping while traveling by jeep, one night at the Tibet/Nepal border hotel (basic) as it is described in the brochure. We’re getting close enough now that we’re trying to figure out when we hit the Radisson in Katmandu, are we going to the bar for a beer first and then a shower, or vice versa. Right now, the beer seems to be ahead; however, a new approach, which is gaining considerable momentum, is to head straight for the pool bar, order our beers, and then jump all together into the pool and see what happens to the filtration system.
Time will tell.
Carol and Jim