The upward Journey at a glance

The distance from Lukla to Everest Base camp is about 60km and at sea level could be comfortably covered in a day or two. Our itinerary however would allow for 8 days including two full rest days. 

After our first night in Phakding we continued northeast up the Dudh Khosi valley to Jorsalle.  Here, at the confluence of the Duhdh and Bhote rivers, the valley narrowed and we crossed a towering gorge by means of a steel rope bridge strung 200m above the river.  For the last few hours of that second day we ascended 600m through a fragrant Blue Pine and Juniper forest to Namche Bazaar, trading hub of the Solu Khumbu.  The terraced town of Namche nestles amidst such mountainous splendor that, when the time comes to continue the trek, one is reluctant to lay aside its relative comforts.  As the nerve center of the trekking and mountaineering industry, it is the last outpost of civilization and offers a feast of comforts and distractions – not least of which are its pubs and bakeries that serve first-rate food.  Namche is a beehive of stone staircases and secret back alleys that contain a treasure trove of souvenir stores, outfitting depots and bookshops.  We spent two nights in a place called the Yak Hotel, an establishment that would turn out to be sheer luxury compared with what was to follow.  The acclimatisation walk included, amongst other things, a visit to the newly opened Tenzing Norgay Memorial as well as the Everest View Hotel that overlooks the Khumjung valley. 

Nighfall over Namche Bazaar, trading hub of the Solu Khumbu

Tenzing Norgay Memorial - behind are Everest (left) Lhotse (centre) and Ama Dablam

Our rest day behind us, we continued northeast and, following a lunch break at the confluence town of Phunki Tenga, crossed the river again to begin a soul destroying 400m climb to the monastery settlement of Tengboche.  The Monastery here is more than 500 years old and entrance is permitted both to its courtyard and its ornate sanctuary.  Here we removed our shoes and sat quietly in the chilly, dimly lit interior as the monks, clad in maroon gowns, performed their priestly duties before a brightly decorated altar. 

The Monastery Town of Thyangboche

On the Fifth day we descended through a primeval Rhododendron forest into the icy depths of the Imja khola valley crossing the river on a makeshift bridge – a substitute for a much bigger one destroyed in a recent avalanche.  With the crossing came another climb, this time to Pangboche and then Dingboche (4410m) a town located at the foot of Ama Dablam (6856m) in the east and a stone’s throw (or so it seemed) from the towering south eastern walls of Lhotse (8516m) and Nuptse (7861m).  Dingboche is a forlorn place – devoid of any meaningful vegetation, its people scraping a modest living out of the rock-strewn moonscape mostly by farming root vegetables and breeding yaks.  I did not relish spending two nights there but took full advantage of a rest day hike that took us to a scenic viewpoint at 4900m.  Apart from the thrilling panoramas, I was heartened that I’d coped well with the altitude and any lingering doubts about the road ahead were dispensed with.

Looking down to Dingboche

On the seventh day the trail turned sharply to the northwest and continued up the Lobuche Khola valley, home to some of the trek’s most spectacular scenery.  In the south towered three +6200m mountains the slopes of which plunged dramatically into the yawning expanse of the valley’s floodplain.  After the welcome undulations of high alpine meadows we groaned at the prospect of another climb – this time a 300m ascent up the Thukla Pass atop which sat an eerie memorial to those who have died on Everest.  Now at nearly 5000m we journeyed along a surreal highway of dust, rock and glacial waste flanked by frozen streams and the forbidding barrier of the world’s highest mountains that ripped a jagged skyline in the cobalt sea of the stratosphere.  We spent the night at Lobuche where it was so cold we were grateful for the double-glazing on the windows. 

The Lobuche Khola Valley

En route to Lobuche

A stone’s throw from the settlement was the lip of the great Khumbu glacier.  I rustled up a team of trekkers after lunch and we made the short climb to the rim where we gazed north in hushed silence to the infamous icefall that tumbles off the southern slopes of Everest.  The Icefall is by far the most dreaded and deadliest obstacle in the quest for the summit having claimed countless lives over the past 8 decades.  Its most recent paroxysm took place at the height of the 2014 climbing season when, on April 18, 16 people (most Sherpa ice specialists) were pulverised by a massive serac which detached itself from the western shoulder of the mountain and landed on the exit to the Western Cwm.  National Geographic described the tragedy as the “darkest day in the history of the world’s highest mountain” and there’s little doubt that nearly a year later its shockwaves continue to ripple through both the social and economic structures of the Solu Khumbu region. 

We were subdued and rendered almost speechless by the sheer sweep, scale and drama of the Khumbu where the inexorable action of water, rock and ice had visited such violence on the landscape it looked as though the creator, upon considering his handiwork, had seen to a few last minute adjustments with a perfunctory sweep of his hand.  I was reminded of the opening lines of a Wilfred Owen poem:

 “It seemed that out of battle I escaped

Down some profound dull tunnel, long since scooped

Through granites which titanic wars had groined”

Alpenglow on Nuptse

On the eighth day we began the final leg – the climb from Lobuche to Gorak Shep, last outpost before Everest.   Gorak Shep (literally “place of the Ravens”) is a God-forsaken place, situated between the western flank of the Khumbu Glacier and the brooding summits of Kalappattar and Mt Pumori.  The strangest feature of the place is a vast dust bowl the size of about 4 rugby fields that, I suspect, was a shallow lake a few hundred years ago.  Today it is a featureless chalky expanse punctuated by small clusters of yaks and two frozen ponds.  In 2009 it was the focal point of a strange sporting record - a team of English cricketers trekked to Everest and played a full one-day game there in aid of charity (though where they found the strength to do so I do not know).  Water is in short supply up here and so desert-like the conditions that the yaks trample holes through the ice to get a drink.  When I noticed a group of young Sherpas from our lodge filling their jerricans from the same source, I concluded that this was Goraks Shep’s only water source and, questioning its purity, temporarily abandoned my usual habit of drinking purified tap water in favour of buying bottled water at USD3.50 a litre.

Chris Harris with a bat that 4 Aussie cricket fans left at Base Camp to remember Phil Hughes, killed by a rogue bouncer in a match two weeks previous

After checking into our lodge and drinking a cup of tea, we completed the last few kilometres through the glacier to base camp, a round trip of three very tiring hours.

Objective Achieved!