TO EVEREST (ALMOST) AND BACK: Guest Post by Caroline Hatton at The Intrepid Tourist

Week 7: 52 Places to Go

Mount Everest (in the middle) beyond the Hotel Everest View (in the trees)

My friend and fellow children’s book author Caroline Hatton, one of the most adventurist travelers I know, went trekking in the Everest region of the Nepal Himalaya in November 2018. Here is her report of the trip. She took all but one of the photos in this post. For info about her books, visit www.carolinehattonauthor.com.

I didn’t know that rooms are not heated, even in freezing November temperatures. When I had read about “tea house” lodging, I had pictured rooms above hot kitchens and warm dining rooms. But even the kitchen staff often wore insulated jackets and fleece hats. And dining room stoves were lit for only a couple of hours at dinner time, with people huddled around like Emperor penguins in an Antarctic blizzard. My sleeping bag, rated for 0 ^oF (~ -17 ^oC), saved my life.

Why go in November? Because it’s the second most popular month, after October, for Himalaya treks. As the days pass, it’s less likely to rain, but the clear weather grows colder. It was a good trade-off to avoid peak crowds.

The trail crosses the river between Phakding and Namche Bazaar

My sightseeing itinerary along the only trail toward Mount Everest, through the homeland of the Sherpas, was standard. I flew from Kathmandu to Lukla, hiked to Phakding and Namche Bazaar, back to Lukla, and flew back to Kathmandu. Namche is ~13 miles (~21 km) from Lukla, or less than a third of the way to Everest Base Camp. Yet I saw Everest from one point near the trail between Phakding and Namche, and the following morning from above Namche.

First glimpse of Everest (with top in cloud) between Phakding and Namche Bazaar

I slept no higher than 11,300 ft (~ 3444 m) in Namche, a familiar altitude after decades of California Sierra Nevada backpacking. No altitude sickness, no rock climbing, but also no wilderness or isolation on the ancient trade route between villages. This classic “Everest Panorama Trek” takes at least five days round-trip from Kathmandu.

Hikers need at least 11 days round-trip to reach Everest Base Camp (17,552 ft ~ 5,350 m), or longer for the Three-Passes Trek past turquoise-colored Gokyo Lake.

Arriving in Namche Bazaar. Photo courtesy of guide Sangam Shresta

In contrast to the nightly cold, my first “hot shower” was heaven, but the instant I turned the water off, I was plunged back in ambient room air, barely above freezing. Even though I dried myself and got dressed as fast as possible, my feet turned purple before I could get socks on. No more showers for me! Why bother anyway, since I had only one shirt and one pair of pants for six days? Thank goodness for wet wipes, perfect for keeping important parts sufficiently clean.

On several occasions when I was outside, teeth-chattering temperatures became forever associated with favorite sights: peak tips ablaze at sunrise, clouds on fire at sunset, or racing fog tearing open to reveal a snowy height in blinding sun. Then it seemed worth freezing to the bone in exchange for the hope of getting a good photo. My camera’s Vibration Reduction Technology neutralized my shivering.

Mount Ama Dablam (22,349 ft ~ 6812 m) from the Sherpa village of Khumjung (12,402 ft ~3780 m)

The notion of hiking toward Everest, which had existed solely in my imagination as a reader, became reality. A thrill that had involved mostly brain cells became physical, from head to toes, skin to muscles to heart and lungs and guts, with the universe pressing against me with sun glare, gravity, and cold, shaping my experience, reshaping me.

Buddhist mani stones (inscribed with mantras) in a Khumjung street

On my favorite day, I hiked a loop from Namche to the village of Khumjung. I saw Everest for the second time, when I stood by the statue of Tenzing Norgay, who summited it with Edmund Hillary in 1953. The trail soon led straight up a steep slope. Loaded yaks marched straight down without hesitating or slipping. At the Hotel Everest View, I sipped the obligatory tea on the terrace, taking in the clear sight of the top of the world. Onward through fir forest, with the snow capped panorama scrolling around me, I thought nothing could ever make me feel as exalted. Then I saw Khumjung, with its big gray stone houses and green roofs and stone-walled fields in between, spread in the warm sun.

Wild Himalayan tahr (Hemitragus jemlahicus) or “lion goat”

On the way back to Namche, wild Himalayan tahrs (Hemitragus jemlahicus), nicknamed “lion goats” because of their mane, were resting on grassy slopes. That day, on that side trip, I didn’t see too many other visitors.

In contrast, on the main trail toward and from Everest, traffic was lively with international athletes competing in the six-day Everest Trail Race from Everest Base Camp down to Lukla (not to be confused with runners in the Everest Marathon in May, also down from Everest Base Camp, but only to Namche Bazaar), climbers, photographers, plain old trekkers, yak or mule caravans lugging their stuff, or bringing food and fuel up the mountains, and assorted humans needing to find or lose themselves in the epic landscape.

Yak, race competitor, and porter on trail through Jorsale

Trail noises were a mix of trekking pole taps on stone, gravel, or dirt, international chatter among walkers, the pastoral melody of yak and mule bells, the whistles and shouts of their handlers, bouncy popular Nepali songs squirting out of cell phones strapped to young porters speeding along with heavy loads, and helicopters pounding up and down the valley with sightseers, supplies, and perhaps the occasional evacuee. As a writer, I also noted smells: eggs cooking, stove smoke, incense, kerosene, and tourists and porters who skipped showers.

Back in Lukla, my bedroom was on the ground level, two floors below the kitchen and dining-room. The chilly temperatures must have dropped by an order of magnitude per floor. After dinner, facing this descent, one trip mate with gaze fixed and jaws set, the embodiment of unshakeable determination, said, “Down to the permafrost!” Another grumbled, “What do you call hell when it’s freezing?”

Lukla: lodge dining room with black stove

Still, compared to my Poon Hill trek below the Annapurna, the other most visited Nepal Himalaya region, I liked this Everest region trek better because I found it easier and prettier. Trails had far fewer stone steps, let alone extra-high ones, the higher altitude meant cooler days, more evergreen than deciduous trees, and yaks instead of buffaloes, though I love both animals, and the highest mountains looked closer, which was more exhilarating.

Back home in Los Angeles, the following winter I thought of the Sherpas conserving resources, and set my thermostat down to 60 ^oF (~15 ^oC) or turned the heater off. It’s as if the stirring splendor of the Himalayas lit a fire inside me, which I can turn to for warmth and inspiration.

For more info

My excellent trip organizer, Adventure Treks Nepal, provided an excellent guide, Sangam Shresta, and two fine porters for our group of four.

Detailed trail descriptions can be found in the Lonely Planet printed guide book, and the essential parameters and profile are available online:

https://www.hikingproject.com/trail/7022086/lukla-to-phakding

https://www.hikingproject.com/trail/7022087/phakding-to-namche

https://www.hikingproject.com/trail/7022088/namche-to-khumjung

Visit Nepal 2020, a video by the Nepal Tourism Board. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j61j9X4xCnA

Visiting Nepal: the essential. https://www.lonelyplanet.com/nepal/essential-information

More posts at The Intrepid Tourist about Caroline Hatton's trip to Nepal: 

THE OLD GURUNG MUSEUM IN GHANDRUK, NEPAL, Feb 11, 2019 

A MOUNTAIN TEAHOUSE STAY IN NEPAL, Jan 14, 2019

All text and photos copyright Caroline Arnold 

 www.theintrepidtourist.blogspot.com 

TO EVEREST (ALMOST) AND BACK: Guest Post by Caroline Hatton at The Intrepid Tourist

Mount Everest (in the middle) beyond the Hotel Everest View (in the trees)

My friend and fellow children’s book author Caroline Hatton, one of the most adventurist travelers I know, went trekking in the Everest region of the Nepal Himalaya in November 2018. Here is her report of the trip. She took all but one of the photos in this post. For info about her books, visit www.carolinehattonauthor.com.

I didn’t know that rooms are not heated, even in freezing November temperatures. When I had read about “tea house” lodging, I had pictured rooms above hot kitchens and warm dining rooms. But even the kitchen staff often wore insulated jackets and fleece hats. And dining room stoves were lit for only a couple of hours at dinner time, with people huddled around like Emperor penguins in an Antarctic blizzard. My sleeping bag, rated for 0 ^oF (~ -17 ^oC), saved my life.

Why go in November? Because it’s the second most popular month, after October, for Himalaya treks. As the days pass, it’s less likely to rain, but the clear weather grows colder. It was a good trade-off to avoid peak crowds.

The trail crosses the river between Phakding and Namche Bazaar

My sightseeing itinerary along the only trail toward Mount Everest, through the homeland of the Sherpas, was standard. I flew from Kathmandu to Lukla, hiked to Phakding and Namche Bazaar, back to Lukla, and flew back to Kathmandu. Namche is ~13 miles (~21 km) from Lukla, or less than a third of the way to Everest Base Camp. Yet I saw Everest from one point near the trail between Phakding and Namche, and the following morning from above Namche.

First glimpse of Everest (with top in cloud) between Phakding and Namche Bazaar

I slept no higher than 11,300 ft (~ 3444 m) in Namche, a familiar altitude after decades of California Sierra Nevada backpacking. No altitude sickness, no rock climbing, but also no wilderness or isolation on the ancient trade route between villages. This classic “Everest Panorama Trek” takes at least five days round-trip from Kathmandu.

Hikers need at least 11 days round-trip to reach Everest Base Camp (17,552 ft ~ 5,350 m), or longer for the Three-Passes Trek past turquoise-colored Gokyo Lake.

Arriving in Namche Bazaar. Photo courtesy of guide Sangam Shresta

In contrast to the nightly cold, my first “hot shower” was heaven, but the instant I turned the water off, I was plunged back in ambient room air, barely above freezing. Even though I dried myself and got dressed as fast as possible, my feet turned purple before I could get socks on. No more showers for me! Why bother anyway, since I had only one shirt and one pair of pants for six days? Thank goodness for wet wipes, perfect for keeping important parts sufficiently clean.

On several occasions when I was outside, teeth-chattering temperatures became forever associated with favorite sights: peak tips ablaze at sunrise, clouds on fire at sunset, or racing fog tearing open to reveal a snowy height in blinding sun. Then it seemed worth freezing to the bone in exchange for the hope of getting a good photo. My camera’s Vibration Reduction Technology neutralized my shivering.

Mount Ama Dablam (22,349 ft ~ 6812 m) from the Sherpa village of Khumjung (12,402 ft ~3780 m)

The notion of hiking toward Everest, which had existed solely in my imagination as a reader, became reality. A thrill that had involved mostly brain cells became physical, from head to toes, skin to muscles to heart and lungs and guts, with the universe pressing against me with sun glare, gravity, and cold, shaping my experience, reshaping me.

Buddhist mani stones (inscribed with mantras) in a Khumjung street

On my favorite day, I hiked a loop from Namche to the village of Khumjung. I saw Everest for the second time, when I stood by the statue of Tenzing Norgay, who summited it with Edmund Hillary in 1953. The trail soon led straight up a steep slope. Loaded yaks marched straight down without hesitating or slipping. At the Hotel Everest View, I sipped the obligatory tea on the terrace, taking in the clear sight of the top of the world. Onward through fir forest, with the snow capped panorama scrolling around me, I thought nothing could ever make me feel as exalted. Then I saw Khumjung, with its big gray stone houses and green roofs and stone-walled fields in between, spread in the warm sun.

Wild Himalayan tahr (Hemitragus jemlahicus) or “lion goat”

On the way back to Namche, wild Himalayan tahrs (Hemitragus jemlahicus), nicknamed “lion goats” because of their mane, were resting on grassy slopes. That day, on that side trip, I didn’t see too many other visitors.

In contrast, on the main trail toward and from Everest, traffic was lively with international athletes competing in the six-day Everest Trail Race from Everest Base Camp down to Lukla (not to be confused with runners in the Everest Marathon in May, also down from Everest Base Camp, but only to Namche Bazaar), climbers, photographers, plain old trekkers, yak or mule caravans lugging their stuff, or bringing food and fuel up the mountains, and assorted humans needing to find or lose themselves in the epic landscape.

Yak, race competitor, and porter on trail through Jorsale

Trail noises were a mix of trekking pole taps on stone, gravel, or dirt, international chatter among walkers, the pastoral melody of yak and mule bells, the whistles and shouts of their handlers, bouncy popular Nepali songs squirting out of cell phones strapped to young porters speeding along with heavy loads, and helicopters pounding up and down the valley with sightseers, supplies, and perhaps the occasional evacuee. As a writer, I also noted smells: eggs cooking, stove smoke, incense, kerosene, and tourists and porters who skipped showers.

Back in Lukla, my bedroom was on the ground level, two floors below the kitchen and dining-room. The chilly temperatures must have dropped by an order of magnitude per floor. After dinner, facing this descent, one trip mate with gaze fixed and jaws set, the embodiment of unshakeable determination, said, “Down to the permafrost!” Another grumbled, “What do you call hell when it’s freezing?”

Lukla: lodge dining room with black stove

Still, compared to my Poon Hill trek below the Annapurna, the other most visited Nepal Himalaya region, I liked this Everest region trek better because I found it easier and prettier. Trails had far fewer stone steps, let alone extra-high ones, the higher altitude meant cooler days, more evergreen than deciduous trees, and yaks instead of buffaloes, though I love both animals, and the highest mountains looked closer, which was more exhilarating.

Back home in Los Angeles, the following winter I thought of the Sherpas conserving resources, and set my thermostat down to 60 ^oF (~15 ^oC) or turned the heater off. It’s as if the stirring splendor of the Himalayas lit a fire inside me, which I can turn to for warmth and inspiration.

For more info

My excellent trip organizer, Adventure Treks Nepal, provided an excellent guide, Sangam Shresta, and two fine porters for our group of four.

Detailed trail descriptions can be found in the Lonely Planet printed guide book, and the essential parameters and profile are available online:

https://www.hikingproject.com/trail/7022086/lukla-to-phakding

https://www.hikingproject.com/trail/7022087/phakding-to-namche

https://www.hikingproject.com/trail/7022088/namche-to-khumjung

Visit Nepal 2020, a video by the Nepal Tourism Board. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j61j9X4xCnA

Visiting Nepal: the essential. https://www.lonelyplanet.com/nepal/essential-information

All text and photos copyright Caroline Arnold

A MOUNTAIN TEAHOUSE STAY IN NEPAL Guest Post by Caroline Hatton at The Intrepid Tourist

Nani's Teahouse in Tolka, Nepal

My friend and fellow children’s book author Caroline Hatton went trekking in the Annapurna region of the Nepal Himalaya in November 2018. She took all but one of the photos in this post. For info about her books, visit www.carolinehattonauthor.com.

For the grand finale of a spectacular hiking trek in the Annapurna region of the Himalaya, our Nepali guide, Gyanendra, gave our group the option of staying at a small teahouse instead of a big tourist lodge. My husband and I and the other couple in our group all jumped at the chance.

Our guide, Gyanendra

(Selfie courtesy of Gyanendra)

When we arrived at the teahouse in Tolka, the hostess, Nani, welcomed us warmly. Our duffle bag was already in our room. It contained our night stuff (sleeping bags, towels, toiletries…). Our porter, Vishnu, carried it on his back all day every day, then delivered it to our room every afternoon.

Our hostess, Nani

We dropped our two daypacks in our room. These contained what we needed hiking all day: water, snacks, sunscreen, jacket, first-aid kit… same as when day hiking at home in California. We never carried lunch food, because every day, we ate lunch at a restaurant on the way.

Everything at Nani’s teahouse was basic but impeccably clean: rooms, beds, one shared toilet, and one shared shower. The shower water temperature was exquisitely hot at 42^o C (~108 ^o F).

Room for two

“Would you like to see Nani’s goats and buffalo?” Gyanendra asked, bravely—he knew, after guiding our group for a week, that I love animals and can make him wait forever while I take photos. Two of us followed him up steep stone steps to visit terraced fields where Nani grows different crops (spinach, millet, chilies…). Above the chicken coop level, steps carved in the brown soil led up a slope that felt nearly vertical. I’ll never be able to go down this, I thought. But I didn’t say a word because I really wanted to see the animals.

I made it to the shelter where a baby goat and mama goat were busy sharing a meal of fresh greens with a buffalo. I took tons of photos. I would have taken more, but the buffalo kept giving me concerned stares, so I backed away, afraid I’d give it indigestion.

Nani’s goat and buffalo shelter

The sun was going down. It was time for me to go down too. But how? Slide down on my bottom? Instead, I turned to face the slope and climbed down, as if on a ladder. On the way, Gyanendra picked tree tomatoes and different chilies for dinner.

Front to back: tree tomatoes, balsam apples, chilies, egg

In the cozy kitchen, lit only by the wood fire under the wok and one electric light, Nani offered to teach us how to make momos, the popular, quintessential Himalayan dumplings. Filled with seasoned, minced vegetables or ground meat, they are steamed or deep fried, then served with chutney. One member of our group was thrilled to sink her hands in wheat flour and water to knead dough and roll it out to make momo wrappers. She minced vegetables for the stuffing and made momos, some balls, some crescents.

Gyanendra cut up buffalo meat and used a stone to grind seasonings for his secret curry recipe. As for me, my favorite part of cooking is inventing excuses to avoid doing it, such as the need to take photos. The two husbands peeked in from the open doorway.

Gyanendra cuts buffalo meat. Nani cooks vegetables.

Before dinner, Nani put away her goats to protect them from potential attacks by a tiger (bagh in Nepali) or leopard (chituwa in Nepali). Tolka is within the range of both wild cats, although it would be rare for either one show up. It would be more likely at night when there is no human activity.

When dinner was ready, the four of us guests were invited to sit at the kitchen table. The steamed vegetable momos had the finest stuffing of all those I’ve ever tried between Los Angeles and Kathmandu—tasty, rich with mixed, balanced flavors. And darn, now I’ll never know Nani’s recipe, since I was too lazy to help make dinner. The buffalo stew was delicious with rice, but too spicy for two of us with timid stomachs. Our two hardworking porters gladly helped eat it all up.

Up at 6 o’clock the next morning, we found Nani working quietly in the kitchen. “Go see the mountain,” she said, pointing up the trail, back the way we had arrived the day before. Two minutes away, from the top of the slope, where I’d seen nothing but clouds the day before, rose a snowcap gleaming in the rising sun: Annapurna South.

Sunrise on Annapurna South as seen from Tolka, Nepal

For breakfast, we sat at the outdoor table, facing the trail and the hills beyond. Our porters brought coffee, tea, eggs to order, big fluffy pancakes made by Gyanendra, jam, and honey.

I asked Gyanendra whether Nani grows enough vegetables for her needs. He said yes, and much more to sell. He and the porters bought from her, at prices lower than at home, soy beans, kidney beans, tree tomatoes, dried chilies, and buffalo ghee. They had ample room to carry extra weight back home, because all of us guests had minimized our overnight duffles. Each couple was allowed two duffles weighing a maximum total of 22 kilos (~ 48 pounds), but we had only one 10-kilo duffle for two.

                                                                                                                  

At Nani’s teahouse, we found the differences with larger lodges to be fewer rooms, so our group had the whole place to ourselves. We saw how a local person lives, grows food, and cares for her animals. She welcomed us into her kitchen for a hands-on experience. But everyone ate the same starter and main dish for dinner that night, not like at bigger lodges where we could each order from a menu of a dozen starters and two dozen main dishes.  

We are glad we chose Adventure Treks Nepal, from the list recommended by Lonely Planet, to organize our trip. It included only the guests of our choice, one guide, and one porter/couple of guests. Before the trip, manager Gyan Karki always answered e-mails within minutes. During the trip, everything went smoothly. We had a Plan A, but the itinerary was adjustable day by day, with Gyanendra contacting all the lodging places by phone in advance of our arrival. After coming home two months ago, I still wake up every day eager to relive my adventures, reread my trip notes, review my photos, and share the experience of a lifetime.

For more info

See more photos [https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.1643011845799564&type=1&l=13b5328fd3] of Nani’s teahouse.

Caroline recommends her trek organizer, Adventure Treks Nepal, https://www.adventuretreksnepal.com/.

Visiting Nepal: the essential

https://www.lonelyplanet.com/nepal/essential-information

All text and photos copyright Caroline Arnold