Machermo (Not Macho Mo!)
A short hike today, with an altitude gain of only 600 feet. (Note that I did not write "easy day" as hiking any distance is exhausting.) We make a pact that we will not reveal that we covered maybe 3-4 miles a day distance, yet are completely spent at the end of the day's hike. We are such wimps! I'm more "lung tired" than "leg tired", meaning that I recover quickly when resting; on the other hand, I am immediately panting and tired when we begin to walk again.
This is physically, mentally and emotionally exhausting. It's harder and colder than I'd expected. On the other hand, it is also more beautiful and more exotic than I'd expected. The gazing is unsurpassed in beauty, and today, arriving in camp by 11:30, we have all afternoon for it. Deep, deep blue skies with puffy white clouds gathering. Lots of snow blowing off Cho Oyo, the highest mountain presently in view, producing the long plume at its peak that is the sign of ferocious winds up there. Snow covered mountains in three directions, so glaringly white we can't look at them without sunglasses.
This is definitely not wilderness hiking. Every 1/4-1/2 half mile, we pass a "village", consisting of 2-3 buildings clustered like a single farmhouse with a few out buildings. But each village contains a lodge, granted that status by having a small bunk-house attached (heated by a stove fueled with dried yak dung) and a cafe, so defined by the presence of a glass counter containing half a dozen dust-covered Cokes and 2 kinds of candy bars along with a menu.
We are never alone on the dust-covered trail. At some points, I can count as many as 25 other hikers in view. Every 10 minutes or so, we must step aside and stand quietly to let another team of yaks pass. Still, it is less populated now, after we have separated from the trail that leads to Everest Base Camp. Surprisingly, however, we hardly ever encounter other Americans. Many, many Japanese, lots of Germans, French, Brits, and a significant portion of Aussies and New Zealanders. Americans seem to be the only people in the world who are afraid to travel here. A strange paradox--are we both the most powerful country in the world and at the same time the most fearful?
Seeking the diversion of any entertainment offered, we attend a daily lecture at 3:00 on high altitude issues given by a physician from England. He and his wife, also a physician, have volunteered their services for one month to develop and staff a Mountain Rescue Clinic in Machermo and are clearly having the time of their lives. The lecture is surprisingly engaging; little do we realize how vital the information presented will turn out to be to our group.
This is physically, mentally and emotionally exhausting. It's harder and colder than I'd expected. On the other hand, it is also more beautiful and more exotic than I'd expected. The gazing is unsurpassed in beauty, and today, arriving in camp by 11:30, we have all afternoon for it. Deep, deep blue skies with puffy white clouds gathering. Lots of snow blowing off Cho Oyo, the highest mountain presently in view, producing the long plume at its peak that is the sign of ferocious winds up there. Snow covered mountains in three directions, so glaringly white we can't look at them without sunglasses.
This is definitely not wilderness hiking. Every 1/4-1/2 half mile, we pass a "village", consisting of 2-3 buildings clustered like a single farmhouse with a few out buildings. But each village contains a lodge, granted that status by having a small bunk-house attached (heated by a stove fueled with dried yak dung) and a cafe, so defined by the presence of a glass counter containing half a dozen dust-covered Cokes and 2 kinds of candy bars along with a menu.
We are never alone on the dust-covered trail. At some points, I can count as many as 25 other hikers in view. Every 10 minutes or so, we must step aside and stand quietly to let another team of yaks pass. Still, it is less populated now, after we have separated from the trail that leads to Everest Base Camp. Surprisingly, however, we hardly ever encounter other Americans. Many, many Japanese, lots of Germans, French, Brits, and a significant portion of Aussies and New Zealanders. Americans seem to be the only people in the world who are afraid to travel here. A strange paradox--are we both the most powerful country in the world and at the same time the most fearful?
Seeking the diversion of any entertainment offered, we attend a daily lecture at 3:00 on high altitude issues given by a physician from England. He and his wife, also a physician, have volunteered their services for one month to develop and staff a Mountain Rescue Clinic in Machermo and are clearly having the time of their lives. The lecture is surprisingly engaging; little do we realize how vital the information presented will turn out to be to our group.
posted by Dave Fry | 9:25 AM
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