Highs and lows of hiking through Nepal Winnipeg high school student Taschi Klaschka ventures to the foot of Everest By: Taschi Klaschka Posted: 7:00 PM CDT Friday, May. 17, 2019

Hey there, time traveller!
This article was published 16/05/2019 (2053 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

The Everest Base Camp trek, 140 kilometres in 11 days, is definitely not for the faint of heart.

Worth it? Absolutely.

Nepal was my first visit to a developing nation and the differences to Canada were apparent from the first step off the plane into the Kathmandu airport.

Customs was a textbook model of inefficiency: one line to get your visa out of a machine (only two of the five machines were working), one line to pay for your visa and a third line to have your passport scrutinized. By lines I mean masses of people surging in different directions.

As a theft-prevention exercise, to exit the airport you have line up again to prove every bag is yours by showing your airline baggage tag.

Stepping out of the airport, we were immediately assailed by what seemed like hundreds of people trying loudly to convince us their taxi was superior. Chaos doesn’t begin to describe it.

Miraculously our Himalayan Traverse Adventure guide, Dawa1 (the “1” differentiates him from another guide, who we knew as Dawa2) managed to find us, welcome us to Nepal with fragrant marigold necklaces, and corral us into a van.

The decaying van had no seatbelts, a sliding door with a faulty catch and a crumbly interior ceiling which rained chunks down on us over bumps. My friend Scott Mann and I were squished in the back with luggage on our laps. Larger bags were thrown on top of the van — and not tied down.

Kathmandu appears to be a city with few rules of the road. There are no traffic lights, no painted lines on the streets and cyclists, cows, monkeys and stray dogs intermingle with traffic. Cows are sacred, so it’s better to hit a human than a cow. Really.

Yet out of this madness there were some of the best drivers I’ve ever seen, avoiding accidents by millimeters. We arrived in Thamel district, at the Manang Hotel, shaken and stirred with our luggage surprisingly intact.

The first two days we explored Nepal’s capital, visiting humbling monuments in the UNESCO World Cultural Heritage Kathmandu Valley.

The Hindu Pashupatinah temple, the Buddhist Swayambhunath Stupa (affectionately known as the monkey temple), and the golden Boudhanath Stupa, one of the largest in the world, were highlights. I was surprised to learn 81 per cent of Nepali people are Hindus and only 10 per cent are Buddhist.

While it could be said we took in the sights, truthfully we also took in the competing sounds and overwhelming smells as well.

Our guides, Dawa1 and Dorjee, calmly gave us the historical background at the sites, while bodies burned in the background, wet garbage crunched underfoot and hawkers pushed their souvenirs at volume.

Actively learning Nepali, one of the best phrases Dawa1 taught us was, phonetically, “Nah-kid-nee,” meaning “I’m not buying.”

My favourite time in Kathmandu was just roaming the streets in awe of the sheer amount of Buddhist prayer flags. Imagine all of the paths at the Forks, including the stage and playground, being covered in prayer flags — that doesn’t even come close to compare.

Prayer flags always have five colours: blue to symbolize sky, white for wind, red for fire, green for water and yellow for earth.

We decided to wait to buy prayer flags until our journey home through Kathmandu (1,400m) to avoid having additional luggage trekking.

Trekking traditionally begins by flying to Lukla (2,860m), the gateway to Everest Base Camp and other Himalayan adventures.

Although we thought we had purchased plane tickets with specific dates to Lukla as part of our trekking package, it seemed like “luck of the draw” getting seats on the 40-minute flights with different trekking firms competing for seats. Our guides Dawa1 and Dorjee magically moved our names up to the front of the queue. There was one seat available on a plane just taking off, said Dorjee, so someone in our group would have to volunteer to travel separately. I literally crawled over the luggage weigh scales and ran through the airline staff area onto the tarmac to jump into the tiny plane – no luggage screening required.

The rest of our group (seven) managed to get the next flight out, but had to wait hours for fog to clear. We didn’t find out until later that it’s a crapshoot getting a flight to or from Lukla because the weather has to be clear to land and take off.

Flying to Lukla is an experience. Turbulence isn’t the right word. Think roller coaster on a never-ending loop. It was a very cloudy day so I couldn’t see much, but one moment the plane was flying through mountains and the next it was rolling up the tarmac. Yes, up. The runway is barely over 500m long at a 12 per cent incline designed to incorporate gravity to help speed up/slow down while taking off/landing.

In Lukla we met our guides Dawa2, Nurbu and Domi (a guide in training), who easily identified us by our Himalayan Traverse matching cargo bags. The guides hired four porters to carry our eight 25kg bags.

Let me tell you, I was grateful not to have to carry anything other than water, snacks and extra layers of clothing as we set out hiking at altitude.

The views were indescribable. Eight of the world’s 10 tallest mountains are in Nepal. To put it in perspective, we were trekking in places as high as the Rockies — with tall peaks still surrounding us.

“How tall is that mountain?” we’d ask Nurbu, who would laugh and say, “That not mountain, that hill.” The guides had a hard time understanding we live at sea level and there aren’t any hills in Winnipeg. They also didn’t believe the only hill we had is composed of garbage.

Our baby wipes were all blown up and our liquids were exploding in our hand luggage. We figured out we were hiking at the same height that a plane would fly over Winnipeg.

We got to know the Sherpas very well as we hiked along and inundated them with questions. Technically, Dawa2 and Domi were Sherpas and Nurbu was Tamang; tribes based on where they were born. Your tribe name is always your surname.

Scott and I initially got to know Dawa2 the most as we were out front with him. Interestingly, Dawa2’s favourite movie was Rush Hour 3. I started teaching him French. He was doing quite well until he was demoted by Nurbu to the back of the group for hiking too quickly and not giving us enough time to acclimatize. The guides take tourists’ health quite seriously.

We stayed the first night in quaint Phakding (2,651m). The next day we crossed many suspension bridges that stretch high over rushing clear water. Scott and I learned not everyone in our group likes jumping on suspension bridges as much as we do.

After walking about a kilometre of virtually straight up, we arrived in my favourite town of the trip: Namche Bazaar (3,438m). Built on the side of a mountain in a semi-circle format, Namche has something for everyone in its elaborate markets. I liked the German bakery, soccer courts and Irish pubs (note: Sherpas are very good at playing pool).

We had an acclimatization day in Namche, so we had time to explore. I’m saying “acclimatization day” as it seems more accurate than what our guides called a “rest day.” Even on the “rest days” you have to hike for at least four hours. Climb high, sleep low is the way to acclimatize.

From Namche, we set out to Tengboche (3,870m). Nurbu assured members of our group this hike would be “Nepali flat” and not straight up like to Namche. Turns out Nepali flat means “up down up down up down.” We should have read our Himalayan Traverse guide for accuracy: “This segment of the trek includes the famous descent to the Dudh-Koshi River and the equally famous ascent along the rhododendron forests.”

Here we saw our first snowfall and got into a full-on snowball fight with our guides. Sneaky Domi jumped up and shook a tree branch covered in snow, which completely covered Scott and me.

We think the Sherpas and Nurbu enjoyed having teenagers in their group as we didn’t think most tourists would challenge them to races up stairs or snowball fights.

En route to Tengboche we got our first glimpses of Mount Everest, Lhotse, Nuptse and Ama Dablam. It’s humbling to be walking higher and higher and the mountains don’t seem to be getting any closer. It really seemed like we were walking through paintings it was so stunning.

Be warned beyond Namche there isn’t any Wi-Fi and prices increase along with the altitude.

Our guide-in-training Domi laughed at Scott and me for paying 300 rupees for gum and showed us the same gum he’d bought for 50 rupees. After that, we’d take him shopping to get what he called a “Sherpa discount” on treats and souvenirs.

Domi told us if he ever comes to Canada to visit, then we can help him get the same special discount that Canadians get. We never did end up being able to explain that Canada has set prices and you can’t bargain — and you don’t get a special price for being Canadian.

From Tengboche we trekked to Dingboche (4,410m) for another “rest day.” It sounds trite, but virtually every step of the journey was rewarding. We visited monasteries, watched fields being harvested, took countless yak pictures, visited with other trekkers, drank cups of chai, ginger and hot lemon tea.

Every day we learned new lessons: always walk to the left of the decorative Buddhist mani stones, which were usually inscribed with the prayer om mani padme hum.

Even more importantly, it’s imperative for your survival to keep to closest to the side of the mountain on the narrow path when yaks pass by or they may push you off the mountain. I didn’t envy those yak-herders.

Yaks are used to carry lots of heavy expedition luggage. We also saw porters carrying loads on their backs that you’d have to see to believe — from entire “grocery shopping aisles” to an iron wardrobe complete with pull-out drawers.

The weather was variable — from ice inside the teahouse windows when waking up to shorts weather in the sun. We learned to ask the guides what to wear for the day; they either said: “One- or two-jacket weather.”

We loved acclimatization days because you’d sleep at the same teahouse and not have to repack your luggage. I’m sure our porters appreciated that our bags were getting lighter as we ate our snacks and gave away clothing and Canadian souvenirs along the way.

Scott and I only managed 30 seconds carrying the trekking bags. The porters thought it was hilarious we wanted to try and carry the bags; we could hardly put one foot in front of the other. Porters are born into the altitude is the only comeback we could think of.

Everyone handles altitude differently; you could be the fittest person on the planet but handle altitude terribly and vice versa. Scott is an elite track runner in Winnipeg, but altitude was not his friend once we got to Lobuche (4,940m). The guides monitored his condition closely. We knew if he was to worsen, he’d be going back down as the only cure for altitude sickness is to descend.

We actually met a lot of groups coming back down from Everest Base Camp where only part of their group had managed to get to the camp, with some members suffering from altitude sickness or other illnesses.

Without technology, we primarily entertained ourselves at teahouses by playing cards. Scott and I taught the Sherpas multiple games, but their favourite was definitely “President,” and were delighted when they were triumphant. Nurbu confirmed our suspicions the porters cheated by strategizing in Nepali.

Our longest day by far, hiking from dawn to dusk, was from Lobuche to Everest Base Camp then to Gorak Shep to sleep.

The day started out somewhat clear, but the Sherpas had warned us it was “all-jacket weather” and snow started falling lightly as we trudged towards Base Camp. Scott was still light-headed and some members of our group were a bit anxious with a narrow hiking ledge that had precarious loose rocks on either side. Nurbu kept a close eye on him.

Reaching Everest Base Camp (5,400m) was somewhat surreal. Grins all around — our group had all made it with memories to last a lifetime.

Base Camp is not like I’d seen in movies, with tents from the different expeditions condensed into a circle; the tents are spread out over a kilometer near the Khumbu Icefall. We didn’t get near the tents; we just saw them in the distance. You also can’t see the summit of Everest from Base Camp because it’s too high.

Astorm was rolling in so we didn’t stay very long, just long enough to take a couple of group photos, and one special one for the Winnipeg Jets, sending them “play-offs white-out wishes” during an actual white-out!

We descended quickly through a full-on snowstorm, finishing the day in Gorak Shep (5,170m) with some celebratory tea and dahl bhat, our favourite rice and lentil dish. We had become de facto vegetarians after Namche Bazaar because we’d been warned not to eat meat higher up on the trail.

The trek back down didn’t really have a required “slow” speed because we couldn’t get altitude sickness descending. Scott got healthier and healthier as we practically ran down the trails, even waiting for Domi, who was supposed to be supervising us.

We actually cut a three-day trek down to one and arrived in Namche Bazaar for a couple extra days to relax and work on our tans. And use the Wi-Fi, of course.

Of all the teahouses along the way, our stays at The Buddha Lodge in Phakding were by far our favourite. The Internet was fast, the food delicious, rooms spotless with real duvets, and amazing hosts who introduced us to Chaanng, a local rice beer. They even gave us special prayer scarves as souvenirs on our descent to Lukla.

After this trip, I feel like our guides are friends and part of our extended family. It was really tough saying goodbye.

Fortunately we created an Instagram account for Domi on his new iPhone 4, sherpa_lama_domi, and are following his climbing escapades online.

The guides say Scott and I are ready to summit Island Peak (6,189m) next year. Now we just need to convince our parents.

Taschi Klaschka missed two weeks of Grade 10 at Kelvin High School to trek to EBC — and it was worth it.