Dreaming Of Everest: Limitations Exist Only In The Mind

Not all those who wander are lost.  This famous aphorism holds true for a lot of us. Especially women seeking to expand their wings, explore the unknown, or the next big challenge.

In 2018, I was feeling restless. While I had returned from a month-long trip across Europe, I was missing a sense of thrill and adventure. After a lot of research, I signed up for the Everest Base Camp trek next spring. A 12-day, 130-km expedition in a region of outstanding natural beauty. At 5364 m, I would be at the foot of the world’s highest mountain. Being my first ever high-altitude trek, I trained hard. From running up 19 stories every morning loaded with a backpack to cardio and strength conditioning at the gym, I gave it my best. However, a nervous knot in my stomach would appear from time to time. I was not sure if I would make it. 

My heart pounded on the turbulent 15-minute flight from Ramechapp to Lukla, the starting point of the trek. After a failed landing, we hoped that round two would be lucky. Due to bad weather, the plane shook violently as we descended into the clouds. We braced ourselves for the worst, till the wheels of the plane skidded on the short runway and we landed safely. Delighted and relieved, we made our way out of the Tenzing-Hillary Airport in Lukla, considered one of the most dangerous airports in the world. Shortly afterward, mother nature had another surprise in store for us. Five minutes into the trek, we were caught in an unexpected torrential rainstorm that scattered the group. It was hard to walk on the slippery, muddy path while avoiding the steady flow of streamlets down the valley. Day One shook all of us. After this calamitous experience, two group members dropped out of the expedition.

My first view of Everest was momentous. On a chilly morning in Namche Bazar (3500 m), my group members and I gasped as we first laid eyes on Mount Everest, also known as Chomolungma or Sagarmatha. She stood tall, unassumingly amongst the other eight-thousanders. The most talked about mountain in the world. Its icy peak shone brightly. My heart brimmed with joy. A surprise encounter with Tenzing Norgay’s niece later in the day felt like synchronicity was at play. I looked for cosmic signs throughout the trek to reassure myself that I would make it. Be it a shooting star in the star-studded milky way, the calming sense of peace inside Tengboche Monastery, the largest gompa in the Khumbu region, a gentle breeze under clear blue skies or even bumping into an old friend in this far-flung corner of the world.

The trail ribboned through blooming rhododendron forests, across shaky suspension bridges and high mountain passes. Birdsong, extraordinary views at every turn, and the sweet fragrance of the alpine flowers kept me enthralled. It was a sensory experience like no other. I sighed, panted, and kept moving ahead. To cover daily distances of 8-9 km, we had to keep our rest breaks to a minimum. There was not enough time to enjoy the splendid views. 

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Now and then, I would encounter Acute Mountain Sickness (AMS) victims being evacuated to a lower altitude. The anxious knots in my stomach would reappear temporarily, till I ignored them. Along the way, I had a narrow escape on a couple of occasions as some of the donkeys nudged me off the narrow, precipitous path.  They were carrying food and other supplies up to base camp. I was amazed at how much load these animals carried. Up until, I saw young porters carrying approx 90 kgs of weight slowly, one step at a time, as I struggled with my 5-kg backpack. The beautiful scenery, observations, and quiet moments along the way made me ponder about life itself, and the proverbial weight that we carry in our hearts and minds. The high mountains had cast their indelible spell on me. The more altitude we gained, the lighter I felt. As if all the weight had been magically lifted. 

Tom Cruise is at base camp, someone shouted. I lunged my way forward over the lateral moraine, much to the surprise of my group members.

As we got close to base camp, my Khumbu cough became worse. I felt delirious, tired, and breathless as I sauntered on. My guide egged me on. I started at the deep, blue ice crevasses of the vast Khumbu glacier, with its icy pools scattered around. One misstep and I would find myself in the white abyss. Above 4500 meters, every step took gargantuan effort. I struggled to keep up with the rest of the group. None of the medicines seemed to be working. While I barely had any energy, I forced myself to keep moving. I was not going to give up now, when I was so close to the end goal.

  This sudden spurt of energy came out of nowhere. I could see the yellow tents at base camp up close now. Tom Cruise is at base camp, someone shouted. I lunged my way forward over the lateral moraine, much to the surprise of my group members. I reached a white sack saying ‘Everest Base Camp 5364 m’ tied with colourful prayer flags fluttering in the gale-force winds. My congested chest melted with undulating joy. I felt the soft brush of snowfall on my jacket as I stood there. I felt truly alive.

The author’s debut book, Dreaming Of Everest is out now and available worldwide. It contains a foreword from noted mountaineer Peter Hillary.

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