In The Shadow of Everest

by Mark Owens

Walking in the darkness, my head torch permanently fixed to the person in front of me's feet, reflecting how much as changed compared to 10 days ago when I was strolling through the hot and humid streets of Kathmandu wearing nothing more than a T-shirt and a pair of shorts. It was here that I met up with the people that would be joining me on my trek to Kala Pattar, a 5545 meter peak by the base camp of Mount Everest. There was Jenna from America, Sheila from Scotland, Majan from Holland, Mikael and Niklas from Sweden and our guide Saran originally from Darjeeling.

After all the introductions had been made and we had talked for a while to get more acquainted, we embarked upon our city tour. This started at the Swayambhunath Stupa, more commonly know as the Monkey Temple because of the large population of monkeys who inhabit the place. The temple is a magnificent white building topped with a gold-coloured square block from which the watchful eyes of the Buddha gaze out over the valley in each direction. Set around the base of this Stupa is a continuous series of prayer wheels, which pilgrims who walk around the temple in a clockwise direction spin. Each one carries the sacred mantra om mani padme hum.

After admiring the view of the Kathmandu Valley from this hilltop location we were quickly whisked away to Durbar Square through narrow back alleys and main streets which had no apparent knowledge of the highway code, I think that the correct side of the road to drive on is the left, but I could be mistaken. Clustered around the central Durbar Square are the old Royal Palace (Durbar means palace in Nepali), numerous interesting ancient temples and the Kumari Bahal that houses the Living Goddess. This young girl was selected to be the town's living goddess, that is until she reaches puberty and reverts back to being a mere mortal. During our whole time at Durbar Square my fellow traveller Niklas was hounded by one of the local peddlers trying to sell him a silver bracelet, which he clearly didn't want but the young boy would not take no for an answer.

Enough of the reminiscing and back to the matter in hand. We were following the Western side of the Kumbu valley up in the direction of Gorak Shep, although we could not see the valley only the ground in the direction that our torches were shining in. Slowly but surely it became lighter so we could turn off our torches and packed them away in our rucksacks, by this time the tube that supplies drinking water from my platypus bottle in my pack had frozen solid so I was unable to use it to re-hydrate myself (it is very important for the prevention of altitude sickness to drink plenty of water), so I had to use my other water bottle which I had overdosed with Isostar energy drink. This was slightly frozen, but at -15 degrees C, this is what can be expected, a good tip that I have learned over the years is to store the bottle upside down, that way the liquid is still drinkable because the ice starts to form on the surface, so when you turn the bottle the correct way around to take a drink, the ice is at the bottom, allowing you to drink.

Upon arrival at Gorak Shep (at an altitude of 5160 meters) I decided to use the toilet facilities, bad idea. When I got there all I can describe it as is that an Egyptian architect had started work on the next pyramid in there. Gorak Shep served as the base camp for the 1952 Swiss Everest Expedition were Raymond Lambert and Sherpa Tenzing Norgay came within 800 feet of the 29,028 foot summit (one year later Norgay would make the first successful ascent of the mountain with Sir Edmund Hillary).

At Gorak Shep we rested for about 30 minutes and attempted to have some breakfast, I managed one slice of dry toast, but because of the altitude I couldn't stomach anything else. I tried to eat one of my Mars bars but it was frozen solid and any attempt to chew it would have resulted in the loss of a couple of teeth.

At about 8:30 we began our summit attempt. We started by crossing a wide open sandy space that looked like a dry lake bed, which I assume is used as a camping ground in peak season. We then began our trek up the steep dark hill that was Kala Pattar, a small (I say small, but at 5545 meters, bigger than anything in Europe) wind swept mound connected to the shoulder of the pyramid shaped mountain Pumori, but today, Kala Pattar was to be my Everest.

The walking was at a very slow pace to make allowance for the very low oxygen content of the air, 50% to that at sea level. I was now about as tired as I had been the whole trip, it was if I had been drugged, as though some kind of unnatural lethargy had polluted my body so that it was nearly impossible to take another step. It was at this point that the wind was really starting to pick up and Jenna and Sheila decided to call it a day and stop, take some photographs and then descend. From the original group there was only Niklas, Mikael, our guide Saran and myself left, each of us more determined than the other to make the summit.

We made good pace up the hill until about 100 meters from the top when we found a flat section to take our last rest before our push for the top. From here I packed my walking stick into my rucksack because the terrain was now changing from a compacted trail to large broken up boulders that slipped around as you walked on them, so we needed to use both our hands and feet to scramble to the top. I think that adrenaline took over at this point as all the tiredness in my body disappeared.

Then elation, I had made it to the summit, I had made it to the summit of Kala Pattar at an elevation of 5545 meters the highest I have ever been (excluding aircrafts). From the top we had spectacular views of Nuptse, Lhotse, Pumori, Chakung, Chumbu, Lingtren, Kumbutse, Lho La, Changse and of course, the behemoth Mount Everest.

At the top we all gave each other a high five and congratulated each other. After the elation of making it to the top it became apparent how strong the wind was blowing, we estimated it to be at least 60 mph and with a temperature of -5 degrees C the wind chill factor was below -63, damm cold! After a brief session of picture taking, which was difficult because the wind was blowing us off our feet we had a cup of hot tea, kindly supplied by the thermos of our guide Saran.

After only 10 minutes on the summit it got so cold and windy it was time to descend. My only concern now was to follow the same trail as the ascent and try not to slip, my mind wondering about how this has truly been a trip of a lifetime, not just for the wondrous scenery that surrounded me, but for the good friends I had made along the way.

About the Author

Mark Owens is a graduate student from Wales, who is more at home poking around in some obscure corner of the world than a classroom. He maintains a personal homepage at www.markowens.co.uk