Mt. Hood and CFBC

photo by Colin Stapp

A Mt. Hood Climb to Fight Breast Cancer was on my calendar the second weekend of June. This spring, I had been lucky enough to spend four weeks in Nepal, where I trekked to Everest Base Camp (another Climb to Fight Breast Cancer) and reached the 20,305-foot summit of Island Peak. Near the end of April, I returned to Seattle elated but tired, and I knew I still had the Mt. Hood climb ahead of me. I rested briefly but then kicked my training back into gear, distracted by recent events. Prior to the Hood climb, I had endured a variety of family crises—losing my dad in January, the sudden early death of a beloved dog the first weekend of June, and the discovery of my mother’s congestive heart failure just days before the climb. Friends were flying in from the East Coast to climb with me, friends with whom I had scaled other peaks. I felt a bit overwhelmed and unfocused.

But then an eternally optimistic friend put it all in perspective for me. She said, “You don’t have to climb Mt. Hood this weekend. You get to climb Mt. Hood this weekend.” Once I wrapped my mind around that, I knew she was right. Between phone calls to the East Coast to check on the condition of my hospitalized mother, I began to gather my gear together. I made my last trip to Feathered Friends to rent a cozy but lightweight down jacket, and I stockpiled snacks for snow school and summit day. My friends and I hopped in the car on Friday and, battling horrendous rainsqualls along the way, ventured south to Oregon’s Timberline Lodge.

This was my 7^th Climb to Fight Breast Cancer. Back in early 2007, I opened the front page of the Seattle Times and noticed a small blurb about a meeting at REI for people interested in climbing a mountain and raising funds to support breast cancer research at Fred Hutchinson Cancer Research Center. My husband and I had each lost a maternal aunt to breast cancer, and we both had countless friends who had also been touched by the disease, so the project caught my eye. I asked if he’d be interested, and we decided to attend the meeting. Thus began my journey with Climb to Fight Breast Cancer.

Through the years, I’ve climbed Adams with my husband, Tom; Rainier with our youngest child, Maggie (to celebrate my 50^th birthday); the Volcanoes of Mexico; Baker; and Kilimanjaro, and I journeyed to the base camp of Everest at 17,500’. Most rewarding, I’ve raised more than $106,000 for breast cancer research. I’m confident that my efforts have made a difference.

And here I was at Mt. Hood, under snowy gray skies, the wind howling. Despite the challenging weather, there was an extraordinary feeling of camaraderie amongst the fourteen Hutch climbers and five guides. We got to know each other as we reviewed rope team, ice ax, and crampon skills (or learned them for the first time) during snow school on Saturday. After being transported by Sno-Cat up to the Silcox Hut later that afternoon, we enjoyed a feast of a dinner, introduced ourselves, and explained our ties to the cause. We celebrated climber Lynn Lippert’s countless years of dedication to the Hutch and her upcoming 70^th birthday. Lynn will always be my hero.

We ventured out into moonlit skies at 1:00 AM the next morning, but we knew our chances of reaching the summit were slim. With relatively warm temperatures, a blanket of about 8” of new snow, and wind gusts of 45 mph, the avalanche danger would be too high during our descent. But it didn’t matter. We pushed 2,000 feet upwards before the guides deemed it prudent to turn around.

Yes, it was sometimes a challenge for me to stay upright, but I witnessed a spectacular sunrise, marveled at our up-close views of some of the mountain’s stunning landmarks, and got a great workout in…all before breakfast. I was reminded of why I climb—the beauty, the challenge, the reward. I’m hooked on the combination of physical challenge and fundraising for such a worthy cause.

Until another day, Mt. Hood.

Sporting some clashing colors at snow school

With Lynn Lippert, 70, who has Stage IV cancer

Journey home and aftermath

My trip home was far longer than my trip over. My first flight was from Kathmandu to Delhi, a mere 1 1/2 hours, which can seem longer when you are continually jabbed by the large Indian woman to your right. And there's never any acknowledgement of a jabbing, nor apology. We pulled up to a jetway at the Delhi airport but were instead offloaded via the front right door of the plane, right down to a waiting bus. That's a first.

I followed the signs for International Transfers and got in line at security, only to be told that I didn't have the correct boarding pass for my next flight yet. I was directed to a desk and waited in line. "Oh yes, I have your name on my list. Julia Hull, right? Take a seat over there." It was 4:45. I sat. And sat. I ventured over to the desk again to ask when I might get a boarding pass. "Air France will be here at 7:00." Huh? I'm supposed to stay put in this chair for more than two hours? I told him I had a business class ticket (I didn't admit that I used miles to get it) and would appreciate going through security so I could get some work done in the lounge. "Air France will come get you."

In the meantime, I witnessed a horde of people around the desk doing, you guessed it, absolutely NOTHING. By this point, I had decided I hated India. About an hour later, I was summoned. A goofy guy with big lips that practically drooled started slowly filling out my info in a handwritten ledger. Then he sat down at his computer and painstakingly typed, typed, typed. He hit "Print" and stared repeatedly at his printer. Then he stared at a few more people behind the desk. He switched seats with the guy next to him and then switched seats with the next guy down the desk. Somehow he actually managed to print my next two boarding passes for me and told me I could go to the Priority Lounge. Off I went to the "Ladies" line at Security.

There were no obvious signs to a lounge, so I stopped to ask at the Info desk. "Do you have a Lounge pass?" she asked me. I explained I hadn't been given one. "Well, they won't let you in without one. Let me make a call." She dialed the same phone number at least a dozen times, getting a busy signal or recording each time. At long last, someone answered, she explained the situation, and then directed me to the lounge without a pass. Go figure. Hard to get much done at the lounge when every website you click on is deemed a security threat. "This website is not secure. Would you like to continue?" An exercise in futility, and my flight wasn't leaving until 12:35 AM. I have never been so happy to board a flight. Ta ta, Delhi.

An Ambien allowed me to sleep most of the way to Paris, where we arrived at 5:45 AM. Once again, we pulled up to a jetway, and (you know what's coming) we descended stairs down from an Airbus 340 to the wet tarmac and the waiting buses. Not so funny anymore. I followed the signs for a transfer to the E terminal and ended back on another bus that stopped at every other terminal first. I only had 4 hours to kill this time. I asked an Air France employee about the lounge, and she haughtily looked down her nose at me and pointed me in the right direction.

I worked on my computer for a while and then decided a shower would be nice. Wonder if there was a reason I was assigned to the handicapped room. With good reason, I was not really looking forward to the last leg of my trip. Delta. An ancient 767, and flight attendants to match. 10 1/2 hours. Endless.

By the time I disembarked in Seattle (through an actual jetway), I didn't know which side of the world I was on. I breezed through the Global Entry kiosk, claimed my bags, cleared immigration, rechecked my bags to the main terminal, rode the train, and found Tom waiting for me.

Seattle, my house, my pets, and my husband have never looked so good. The weather was crappy, but everything was so green and vibrant. Our lilacs are blooming, the tree a friend gave me when my dad died in January is all leafed out, and my home looked particularly inviting. Best of all, the dogs really danced when I walked in.

In the last week, I did load after load of laundry, restashed all my climbing equipment, regained my appetite (I came home 5 lbs. lighter), and organized all my photos. I started to work out again almost immediately and can now almost make it through the day without a power nap. I sleep well at night, still reveling in the feel of soft cotton sheets, and continue to marvel at how nice our toilets are. Turning on the faucet to fill a cup with drinking water is still a great pleasure. Home sweet home.

Miscellaneous photos

the Island Peak climbers: Ben (guide), Daniel, and me

Phakding to Lukla to Kathmandu—April 21-23

One of my best nights of sleep—too warm for my sleeping bag, so I just slept under two comforters. Sometimes it pays to be dehydrated; getting up in the middle of the night wears on you. Before breakfast, I observed a large group of newbies on an REI trip getting ready for the day: a woman with silver hair in a perfect bun with a bandana tied "just so" around her neck, and a fanny pack; many with coordinated clothes straight out of the catalog; goofy brimmed hats; all very clean and coiffed. I pitied the one young guy (20ish) who had to hang out with all the others who were peers of his grandparents. As anxious as I am to be clean, I wear my stained, smelly clothes as a badge of honor.

I dreaded this day—uphill all the way to Lukla, and the end of our journey through the Khumbu. At the same time, I eagerly anticipated this day—one step closer to a hot shower, flushing toilets, and a bed with sheets—the beginning of my trip home. We sped along the trail and arrived in Lukla in just 2 hours. The lower altitude and the weeks of hiking served us well. Devoured hash browns with cheese at 11 AM and crossed to a cafe for wi-fi. Moved into our rooms at the teahouse just in time for a lengthy thunderstorm and town-wide power outage. When the skies finally cleared, Daniel and I whisked off to The Wave for 2-for-1 drinks and a few games of pool. Ben showed up, figuring he'd find us there. Not much going on in Lukla, so we had high hopes that the planes would be flying the next morning.

In bed around 8:30, and when I awoke in the middle of the night and pulled the curtains aside, the Big Dipper stared straight at me. Yes, the planes would fly, I thought.

The scene at the airport the next morning was total chaos. I don't know how many people negotiate the system without insiders like Mingma and Kami (the teahouse owner). Our bags were weighed, and we were informed we owed excess baggage fees. Hmmm. Our bags were lighter than they were on the way in. Went through the "Ladies" line in security (one of the few places women have an advantage as the lines are much shorter) and hung out awaiting flights coming in from Kathmandu. After the slingshot takeoff down the short runway that drops into nothingness, and a few little burps of turbulence, the flight was quick and uneventful.

Re-entering civilization via a gateway like Kathmandu is especially challenging. The onslaught of humidity, pollution, insane traffic, daredevil motorcyclists, and filth is daunting.

between the airport and the hotel

The closer I got to my eagerly anticipated shower, the more I needed it right now (kind of like really having to pee the closer you get to the bathroom. I was practically in tears by the time the water ran over me. Miraculous that in just 20 minutes, three weeks' worth of grime can be rinsed away. Pure bliss.

And a stable toilet seat to sit on (when there was a toilet seat, it was usually a moving target)! Still getting used to throwing TP into the toilet rather than into an eternally overflowing plastic bin.

Headed to Rum Doodle for dinner with Jiban, the owner of Sherpa Shangri-La (the local liaison). Daniel and I decorated a wooden foot with snippets from our trek/climb and nailed it to the wall behind our table.

Skyped with Tom this morning but had a hard time talking. My voice and throat are still plagued by this nasty cold. At least my nose is no longer a faucet. Time to head home with long-lasting memories of the Khumbu and its people, and even more vivid memories of the peak I almost couldn't summit.

I will now follow the journey of my new climbing friends as they make their way towards the highest summit of them all (http://www.alpineascents.com/everest-cybercast.asp)

A Few Things We Take for Granted:
a toilet to sit on
a toilet to sit on that flushes and can handle toilet paper
a roll of toilet paper hanging near the toilet
a sink somewhere in the vicinity of the toilet
a sink with running water
a sink with running hot and cold water
a light in the bedroom
heat in the bedroom
heat in the common room provided by means other than a stove burning yak dung
cell signals/Internet access
clean drinking water that doesn't need to be treated
a shower with hot water whenever we want
clean socks and underwear every day
air conditioning in a hot, humid city
power available 24/7
shoes that fit
brooms that allow us to stand upright when sweeping
plugs in all the walls

Lessons Learned
Trek in the Khumbu in the spring, not in the fall when there are twice as many trekkers on the trail.
Always, always carry a hardshell jacket and pants in your pack, no matter what the forecast is or what anyone else suggests.
Bring a large towel if you want to shower. A camp towel does not suffice.
Get to know the Sherpa guides and trail crew.
Be ready to be cold and dirty. It's part of the experience.
Bring a deck of cards and other travel games.
Bring a 2nd pair of softshell pants for when you can no longer stand the smell of your first pair.
Bring a pair of jeans or sweats for the lodges.
Don't change more than $250 into rupees for bakeries, Internet, showers, and charging phones and iPods.
Always pass to the left side of stupas, chortens, and mani stones, even if you have to go out of your way to do so.
Wi-fi is usually more reliable and faster than Internet. Set phone to airplane mode, turn off all data, and hand it over. The Internet Cafe owner will enter the password.
Wet wipes, wet wipes, wet wipes.

Flora and Fauna
Pines, rhodies, cherry trees, magnolias
Lower in the Khumbu: geraniums, marigolds
ladybugs all over the trail
dzo, mules, yaks, horses
dogs
rocks, rocks, rocks
sand
crows, ravens, and a huge partridge wandering around Island Peak Base Camp

Food
eggs, toast, porridge, oatmeal, muesli, dense pancakes, French toast for breakfast
pasta, fried rice, chow mein, spring rolls, pizza, potatoes, fries
tuna sandwich
dal bhat (comes with free refills)
steamed veggies: cabbage, onion, carrot
soups before every lunch and dinner: Ramen, tomato, garlic, mushroom, chicken
yak steak
bread: dense and thick, Tibetan, chapati
apple pie, coconut cookies, chocolate pudding, fruit cocktail, apple "frittles"
candy bars: Snickers, Mars, Twix, KitKat, Bounty
Pringles, popcorn
black tea, milk tea, hot lemon, hot mango, hot orange, coffee upon request (usually instant)
ketchup, hot sauce, corsani, jam, honey, margarine (no butter)
napkins: almost never, what to do with sticky hands?
water treated with a SteriPEN

Namche to Phakding—April 20

This is not my favorite part of the Khumbu—no more views of the towering peaks, the trails are crowded, and I'm so dirty that I almost can't stand it anymore. As we descended the steep hills from Namche, it was clear that Friday and Saturday are market days there. The trail was not only packed with clean newbies, but also with hundreds of porters carrying goods up to Namche. Seemed as if many of the newbies had never walked on rocks before, as they painstakingly picked their way from stone to stone. I put on my iPod, which helped me dance down the rock stairways. Concentration is key, or a trip or fall is imminent. With the thicker air comes higher temperatures and a general feeling of lethargy. My nose is like a faucet, and my dry cough prevents me from sleeping soundly.

The day started out crystal clear in Namche, but clouds now hang over Phakding. On the way up, our rooms at Sunrise Lodge had attached baths. This time, we're in bigger rooms but have no bathrooms. Guess my first shower since April 2 will be in Kathmandu. A new personal record (personal "best" doesn't sound appropriate)—20 days (I think Aconcagua was only about 2 weeks). Even if I could shower today, I still only have my miniscule towel, and I'd have to struggle back into my rancid clothes. It will be far more satisfying to don some clean duds.

Up, yes "up," to Lukla tomorrow (about 600 vertical feet) and then an early-morning flight to Kathmandu on Sunday.

near the bottom of the steep trail to Namche

Pangboche to Namche Bazaar—April 19

Started from Pangboche around 8:30 under beautiful clear skies. Two big uphills to tackle today—Deboche up to Tengboche and Phungi Thanga up to Sanasa. My Khumbu cough morphed into a full-fledged snotfest last night, so I had trouble sleeping and gasped my way up the hills. Ate yummy hash browns with cheese for lunch. We were told it was almost flat to Namche. Ben's definition of "flat" must differ from mine. Wide trail with rolling hills encircling sides of mountains. As we get lower, we pass more and more newbies on their way up—still in clean clothes, pale faces smeared with white sunscreen. We discuss messing with them, "Base Camp is closed." "You're almost somewhere."

We catch snippets of conversations and accents from all over the world. Lots of Aussies and Kiwis; a group of Germans is at the Panorama Lodge in Namche. The rooms here now seem almost luxurious compared to what we had up high—floors are carpeted, rooms are lit, the communal bathroom even has a flushing toilet that actually flushes. A sink with running water sits in the hallway.

Delicious dal bhat for dinner and more Rummy with Ben and Daniel. Wish I could breathe out of my nose.

To Phakding tomorrow and then to Lukla. If there were just a way we could bypass Kathmandu on the way home... I'm not ready for the crowds and pollution. Will not have seen a car in almost three weeks.

Ready for a shower!

a last sighting of the summit of Everest (left of center)

Ben and Daniel on one of the 8 suspension bridges

the "road" to Namche

wide load

 

Chukhung to Pangboche—April 18

After a night's sleep, my vision was back to normal. Phew. Had a late start from Chukhung and stopped in Dingboche for wi-fi, bakery, and a chance for Ben to stash his climbing gear. Then down to Pangboche via lunch in Shomare (delicious tuna sandwich). Any little uphill stretch brought back yesterday's pain and breathlessness. Looking at Island Peak from Chukhung still made me feel incredulous that I was at its summit. I'm not nearly as sore as I feared I might be, but I took two Advil this morning just in case.

Said goodbye to Ang Nuru this morning as he was heading back up to Everest BC. Just Mingma and two porters accompanying us now. Whenever we arrive at a new teahouse, Mingma brings us hot tea and hot lemon. Later, he brings our room keys, our duffels already stashed in the rooms. Now that there are only three of us, we order off the menus. I have a craving for tuna but still don't have a huge appetite. Clearly, I am also dehydrated. It will be interesting to see how much weight I lost.

Staying at Highland Sherpa Resort—the usual spartan rooms, but a cozy dining room with a great view down the valley.

baby yak

all the buildings are constructed of hand-chiseled stone

Island Peak—April 16-17

Slept pretty well despite a bit of Khumbu cough. Hiked about 2 1/2 hours up from Chukhung to Island Peak Base Camp, a camp spread with tents of all different colors and two foul-smelling stone outhouses. The weather was quite breezy, so we took refuge in the dining tent. Organized all my gear for the climb; I wanted it all to be ready for our start in the middle of the night. Ate dinner around 5:30 and got in my sleeping bag by about 6:30. Dozed on and off until Mingma brought me tea around 1:15 AM. Ate a bit of oatmeal and set off on the trail just before 2 AM, temperature a balmy 28 degrees (surprising at almost 17,000'). I was wearing a short-sleeved tech shirt, a zip-neck long-sleeved tech shirt, long underwear bottoms, insulated bib pants, a fleece vest, a Turtle Fur neck warmer, a buff over my hair, a hat over the buff, a Primaloft jacket, expedition mitts, sock liners, tall hiking socks, and a helmet and headlamp. Not long after we started, I had to take off the fleece vest.

Ang Nuru led, I was next, followed by Daniel and Ben. The first few hours, we climbed scree, steep scree, and sometimes had to cling to the sides of rock faces. A couple huge gusts of wind made me feel as if I would be plucked right off the mountain. Climbing in the middle of the night is always a bit surreal. Many times I glanced up and could see headlamps at an impossible angle above. Was there really that much more rock before we crossed onto the glacier? I felt jealous as we passed lights in High Camp. Sleeping at 18,500' probably isn't worth the payoff of knocking off 1,500 vertical feet from the climb, though.

Just as it was getting light, the coldest part of the day, we sat by the side of the trail to change into our plastic boots (Ang Nuru and Ben had been kind enough to carry our 2nd pair of boots for us so we could climb the rock and scree in our day hiking boots) and don our harnesses and crampons. I had thrown toewarmers into my plastic boots before leaving camp, and I could feel one's lumpiness in my right boot. In our haste to get moving again, I couldn't lace my inner boots correctly before cinching up the outer boots and zipping up the built-in gaiters. Me feet never felt right in my Millets the entire day.

negotiating crevasses on the glacier (photo by Ben Jones)

We clipped into a fixed line as we crested the top of the rock cliff and then eventually eased onto the glacier. We roped up and wove between the crevasses, jumping over a number of them. We turned the corner, and the headwall and summit ridge came into view. Holy shit. None of the photos or videos I had seen did it justice. The headwall was huge and very steep, the people on it mere specks. We made our way to the base, and it was immediately clear that there was a traffic jam. One group was trying to retrieve a fixed line; other people were attempting to descend without rappelling devices. Ang Nuru managed to skirt us around one group, and up we went. We clipped a safety carabiner onto the fixed line right above our ascender. The slope was so steep that I had to use my ascender to pull my weight up, often front-pointing because there was no other way to get my whole crampon on the slope. My hand began to cramp; my arm ached. At about 5 or 6 pickets or ice screws, we had to stop and change over to the next portion of fixed line.

the 100-meter headwall

from the top of the headwall, so steep you can't see the bottom

(photo by Ben Jones)

 Progress was excruciatingly slow as I struggled to heave my body over each shiny ice-encrusted 50-degree mogul. It felt as if we would never reach the summit ridge. Sometimes I had to stop to rest and breathe for what felt like 30 seconds or more before I could make another move. After what seemed like hours on that wall in the bright sun, we finally reached the ridge.

at the top of the headwall, about to start up summit ridge to the right (photo by Ben Jones)

 We clipped into the new fixed line (no ascenders) and inched our way up the knife-edge ridge about 20 minutes to the small bit of space on the summit. It was overwhelming to sit in that amphitheater surrounded by Lhotse, Makalu, Ama Dablam, and other 7,000- to 8,000-meter peaks. I was so depleted—I'd never dug so deep or been physically challenged to that degree. Frankly, I was shocked that I was up there.

view from the top

prayer flags with names of women who have battled breast cancer

At the summit (20,300') with Daniel and Ben

Ang Nuru, without whom I probably wouldn't have made it to the summit

Ben reminded us that we were now halfway there. Rather than swear at him, I bit my tongue. Besides, I knew this was true—we still had to get off this mountain. We used an arm-wrap on the fixed line to descend the ridge and then started a series of rappels down the headwall. A couple times I slammed my right side into the ice as I tried to look down towards Ang Nuru, waiting for me at the next protection on the slope. Then I almost didn't clear a crevasse near the bottom. Finally, we reached the base of the wall after arm-wrapping the last bit of fixed line, and we roped up to travel down the glacier. I was so spent that I lost motor control, falling several times. Running on empty.

The descent seemed interminable, especially the scree. The wind was blustery and almost knocked me over. When we finally reached Base Camp, I found it hard to eat much of anything. My climbing food had consisted of instant oatmeal, a Bounty bar, a small package of coconut cookies, and a couple Shot Block cubes. Can't even imagine how many calories I expended. Ben informed us that we would have to walk the 6 to 7 miles back to Chukhung. I admitted that I didn't think I could do it. He said it would be better for me than crawling into my tent at camp. Plus, we'd run out of kerosene, so we had to move back to town. Bataan Death March under cloudy, gusty skies.

Definitely the most grueling physical experience ever. I still can't believe I made it. Ben's patience, Daniel's "up" attitude, and Ang Nuru's helpfulness got me there. Mingma kindly carried my light pack back to Chukhung for me. Crusty nose, parched lips, sore calves, and a stiff neck and upper back from the jumar and front-pointing. From the moment I put on my sunglasses at sunrise, half of my vision was obscured and fuzzy in my left eye. I assumed it was a smudge on my glacier glasses, but it was still there when I took them off at the end of the day. Rather disconcerting.

More tired that I've ever been, I crawled into my sleeping bag at 7:30. Beautiful bitch of a mountain.

Now we head down the Khumbu Valley—our aim is to fly out of Lukla on the 22nd.

Dingboche to Chukhung—April 15

We said goodbye to the rest of the trekkers, family members, and many of the Sherpa trail crew under beautiful blue skies in Dingboche. Ben, Daniel, Ang Nuru, Mingma, and I set off for Chukhung and Island Peak. We stopped at the cybercafe on our way out of town so I could send off a last email to Tom before the climb.

The trail to Chukhung was not steep, but I still felt tired, legs heavy. We checked into the Ama Dablam View Lodge—rather spartan, no lights in rooms or hallways, squatter toilet encrusted with ice. What the lodge lacked it comfort it made up for in views.

Island Peak just left of center

Ama Dablam

notice the Yellow Band of rock, just like on Everest

Ate a good lunch and then spent a couple hours rigging our harnesses, ropes, carabiners, ascenders, etc. I had so much gear hanging from me that I felt a little overwhelmed. Played lots of cards with Ben and Daniel. Laughed so hard we cried. Taught Ang Nuru ERS (Egyptian Rat Screw), which was very entertaining because he was mauling the cards and trying to cheat.

I feel more apprehensive about this climb than any others I've done before. Maybe it's the technical components, the altitude, or just that I feel a little worn down from two weeks at altitude in the Khumbu. I worry that the pace may be too fast because Daniel is clearly stronger than I. We have a day of leeway, so I wouldn't mind a day of rest at Base Camp. We'll see after we hike up there from Chukhung tomorrow.

Kala Pattar, Gorak Shep to Dingboche—April 14

Toughest day so far. Man knocked on my door at 3:56 AM. I had to pack up my duffel and jump into my warm clothes for Kala Pattar. Five of us met in the dining room and choked down some tea, cookies, and half a Bounty (Mounds) bar. Off we went across the sand with our headlamps, then up, up, up. Mingma was leading, and he set a pace that was a little aggressive. Gene was struggling, so Ben asked Mingma to slow down. So hard to get blood and legs moving at that hour. The climb was only 1,400 vertical feet, but it was tough. I was a little nauseous but kept pushing on—rest step after rest step, pressure breathing about every 5 to 6 breaths. My feet and core stayed warm, but my lips could hardly move, and my pinkies were cold. The handwarmers never heated up. I made it to the top a little while after Mingma, Randall, Haley, and Daniel. Gene chose to stop just a little short of the summit. Incredible views of the top of Everest and the Icefall.

Kala Pattar—the little brown mountain in front

Didn't linger for long due to the cold and an impending need for breakfast. Zipped back down with Ben. Back to the lodge by 7:15. For the first time, I had lost my appetite, and we had a long day ahead of us.

view from the top of Kala Pattar of the Icefall, Everest, Lhotse, and part of Nuptse

We set off before 8:30, hiking from Gorak Shep to an early lunch in Lobuche, and then all the way down to Dingboche. By the time I got to my room in the lodge, boots on my feet for 11 hours, the tears came (which can happen at altitude). A nap, a hefty dinner, and a sleep 2,500' lower helped. I'm having a hard time wrapping my mind around Island Peak at the moment, but Daniel will be a good climbing companion (the third IP climber dropped out due to illness).

The trekking/family members group split off from us tomorrow morning to head back down to Lukla. Ben, Mingma, Ang Nuru, a couple porters, Daniel and I will turn towards Chukhung and Island Peak (aka Imja Tse). I'm hoping for a couple easier days so my body can rest and recover.

Everest Base Camp—April 13

Twenty degrees in my "room" this morning. The dog moved closer to me during the night but thankfully didn't get too close. Didn't sleep very well, but better than being in a room with the snorer. Hard to breathe at 16,900', and people kept walking through the common room to get to the bathroom, a floor down and in a different wing. Heard lots of yak bells during the night (don't they ever stand still?) and people rising early to tackle Kala Pattar at daybreak. When I got up around 6 AM, my water bottles and pee bottle were completely frozen. Tough to get dressed when it's that cold.

The climbers/family members didn't get down from Kala Pattar until about 8:30; we didn't get on the trail until 10. Only 400 vertical feet to Base Camp, but it took a full three hours. Lots of up and down, rocks, and scree to deal with. Once we arrived at the EBC rock, it was still another 45 minutes to get over to AAI's site.

en route to Everest BC from Gorak Shep

lenticular cloud over Everest

Base Camp

It was a treat to see it on a sunny day. Pretty powerful place. We passed all the different camps—AAI's was close to the bottom of the Icefall. Other climbers have to hike nearly an hour to start a journey through the Icefall. Each climber has a dome tent, situated on the rocks. There are three toilet tens; a couple kitchen tents; a Mountain Hardwear 800-square foot dome for socializing; and a huge dining tent, decorated with plastic flowers, centerpieces, LED lights, and carpeting on the floor. Still hard to fathom living there for about 6 weeks.

the dining ten

tents below the Khumbu Icefall

Sherpas erecting the last few tents for the climbers

duffels arriving, Mountain Hardwear dome social tent in the background

in front of the Icefall, so bright at it's hard to photograph

I made the right decision about the Icefall. I struggled for months last fall about whether or not to sign up for the Camp II climb. Photos of the Icefall do not do it justice. It is massive and dangerous—the Sherpa "Ice Doctors" looked like ants on it, and it was too bright out to see any of the ladders. Island Peak is a much better alternative for me. It will still be quite a challenge. While at Base Camp today (17,500'), it was hard to imagine ascending nearly another 3,000' to the elevation of Island Peak (20,300'). Joe offered, "But you get to go down first [to Dingboche]." Yes, Joe, but then we go back up to Island Peak BC at 16,690'!

Hard to say goodbye to the climbers. It was wonderful getting to know all of them, and I will follow every bit of their journey between now and early June. On the way down, we passed a Puja ceremony (asking for safe passage on the mountain) in full swing—singing, dancing, drinking, juniper smoke, and flour smeared on faces.

Puja ceremony

Arrived back in Gorak Shep, exhausted. We're waking up tomorrow at 4 AM for a 4:30 departure for Kala Pattar. At the last minute, Man found me a single room. Yay! So tired that I'm heading to bed at 8:15.