Operation 6000m 
In 2000 Liv and I (and the rest of our teenage gang) came to the Everest Region for 2 weeks of trekking and community service - so this is a return trip for me to some of the places of our last trip.
Unfortunately Operation 6000m would start at a cold disadvantage, as over the previous days I had managed to catch Liv's cold from her - this would put my acclimatisation process in jeopardy and haunt me for the entire operation.
Day 1 - Kathmandu - Lukla - Phakding (2652m)After yesterday's delay we succeeded in boarding a plane today though the hecticness of the airport still took a number of hours out of the day. The flight was a dramatic 40 minutes and took us into the mountain region where we descended into the now-asphalted Lukla airport. Here we grabbed our duffel bag and shuffled along the busy alleyways crowded with porters and Sherpas keen for work. We made it to Namaste lodge where we ate our first mountain meal and completed the trekking crew:
Boss Man: Maila Lama (Guide)
Smile Man: Sanjep (Porter)
Operation Man: Me (NZ)
Marley Man: Joe (UK)
Photo Man: Brendan (Oz)
Our first day's trekking was a chilled out wander down 200 vertical metres to Phakding. Along the way the camera memory card filled up with shots of porters and their phenomenal loads (some as high as 120kgs). The trail is a well defined "highway" of tourists, yaks, porters, and guides all here to make their way to Everest Base Camp (EBC). Coming into Phakding Vilage we were greeted by a sign declaring: "Welcome to the New Nepal" along with a hammer and sickle flag. We arrived at our lodge and just generally chilled out over hot drinks, lunch and later dinner. The in-between times we managed to explore the streets, enjoy the views and collect some Bob Marley, which led to bed time.
Day 2 - Phakding - Namche (3450m)
Today the trekking routine became cemented and for every day beyond we would wake around 6.30am, pack our gear for Sanjep, head down to the dining room for breakfast and start walking. A few hours walking would bring us to a tea or lunch stop and more hour walking would deliver us to our night's lodging.
Previous experience experience had warned me of today's effort, so a relaxed pace was assumed and we wandered along just enjoying the sights, sounds and experiences of the mountain region. It was weird to see a pack of porters suddenly down their loads and rip into bottles of fanta before continuing the slog up to Namche.
Namche hadn't changed much except for the height of the buildings and the availability of internet, and there was still a great market to wander around, particularly enjoyable when Pink Floyd's brain damage came waffling across the air.
Day 3 - Namche - Khumjung (3780m) - Khunde (3840m) - NamcheToday was an acclimatisation day and my first chance to follow a new track up to the Everst View Lodge where we would not see Everest because of the clouds, but then led us through a forest to the base of Khumjung village where we had years previous enjoyed hanging out at the Hillary School. We had an enjoyable walk along the rock walled alleyways of the village popping into look at the Yeti skull before arriving at the Khunde Helipad! 8 years ago our teenage gang worked hard lugging huge rocks to create the pad, but had reluctantly left before the project had been completed. It was satisfying to see the finished product and know that it's helping save lives - as without it helicopters cannot reach the region in winter.
A detour to pass the Khunde hospital and a steep descent gave us great views of the glacial valley that houses Namche Bazaar. A day of walking at 4000m had left us tired and ready for a feed and bed (once it's dark here around 6.30pm there's not much to do but sleep)!
Day 4 - Namche - Tengboche - Pangboche (3930m)
Heading off along the highway we were presented with Everest views about 10 minutes in, which stopped the show for far too long - I managed to keep my shots to 3, after taking rolls of film last time I was here. We continued around the mountainsides that gave beautiful views down lush green valleys shadowed by multiple 8000m peaks. We called the track a highway because it's no longer a small track to follow and often has traffic jams of people - a huge change from last time.
We arrived in Tengboche (a Tibetan Buddhist Monastery) which was closed for "unknown reasons", which meant we had another 2 hours of walking to reach Pangboche. It was almost disappointing that all the dodgy, wooden and crumbling bridges had been replaced by proper steel swing bridges - they looked wrong and semi-obstrusive in the environment, but are a neccessity for the over 250 tourists that enter the region per day. I was pretty stoked when we were nearing Pangboche and one of the old bridges was still standing, though dwarfed by the metal one above.
Lying exhuasted in our room we dreamed of hot teas and Joey and I wondered out loud if a call to Maila would produce him - we jokingly gave the call a shot and were immediately greeted by a "yes, yes what can I do???!!!" - now that's service!
Day 5 - Panboche - Pheriche (4252m)
2 hours ahead of schedule, we left a little later than usual today and made the 2 hour journey to Pheriche where we lodged along side a river in a wide open valley overlooked by a 360 degree mountain range. With time on our hands our crew played hacky though finding the thinner air rather taxing on the body, the games didn't last long. This was probably lucky because after lunch Maila decided we needed to gain altitude and set off for a walk up a mountain where we were astounded by views of Island Peak (Imja Tse) the focus of Operation 6000m. The peak must have had an effect on us because we soon were lazing on the cliffside in the sun, with prayer flags flapping a melody in the mountain winds.
At night we ran into Charley who is part of an American Med School experiment on altitude sickness (which I was not allowed to partake in due to the intense cold I was suffering from and altitude related headaches I already had). Brendan and Joe however were prime candidates. I tried to enforce our planned rest and acclimatisation day here, but was out voted by the rest of the group, and with dark falling we did what we do everynight and headed off to the warmth of our sleeping bags.
Day 6 - Pheriche - Lobuche (4930m)Well before 5am struck Boss man charged off ahead to claim us a lodge room in the extremely busy Lobuche - mainly due to the fact that everyone passing through on a variety of treks has no option but to stay here. So, we managed to delay our departure an enjoyed some lazing in the sun before following Boss man 2 - Sanjep - (the smile on his face when referred to as "boss" made it hard not to keeping referring to him as such).
We made our way up a steep pass that left us humbled in the middle of a Sherpa and climber graveyard - those familiar with the 1996 Everest disaster will know Scott Fisher who is one of the many greats that now exist in these grey piles of rocks. We waited here for I'd hate to think how long for our resident photographer who would for the entire journey constantly be pulling up the rear from a large distance. We than made our way long the river edge to our room, made up of our 3 beds and room for nothing else.
In the evening the snow began to fall and a little white fever struck us, so we stood in the cold just absorbing the environment around us and those of us who choose to exist in it from the wee flowers, wild dogs, and crazy tourists. But as usual darkness and cold (we're starting to hit below freezing now) sent us scurrying to the sleeping bags.
Day 7 - Lobuche - Gorak Shep - Everest Base Camp (5357m) - Gorak Shep (5184m)
Just as the day previous, mighty Maila took off today at 3.30am to secure a room for us and wait a number of hours to rejoin him. We on the other hand started at a leisurely 7am. We covered the usual 3 hour distance in an hour less, stormed through a mountain feed (every lodge has the same menu and you basically choose between Dhal Bhaat, macaroni, soup, or fried potatoes, then headed off for EBC.
The journey to EBC would be an extremely eventful one, the terrain was difficult where we descended and ascended rocky morain landscapes as well as moving glacial ice hidden beneath our path. We followed the Khumbu Glacier all the way until the colours of EBC tents became beacons drawing us to the final stop. At EBC we were shocked at the positioning of tents set up on the rocky ground, but it was a pretty lifeless place anyway.
Joey decided to celebrate and break out the Marley, which proved too difficult to refuse and probably played some part in the decision for birthday suit poses on rocks. This proved to be a bad decision when some campers threw rocks at us because nakedness was not something to do at the base of a sacred mountain. WHOOPS! Even though we had asked our guide if it was ok.
The day was getting cold so we headed back to Gorak Shep. Along the way Brendan suffered from severe altitude sickness, and fell and injured himself. Joe and I made our own way back to camp and left the mighty Maila to guide Brendan home. We knocked back a feed and crashed out about 7pm. Around midnight I sat up to find Brendan curled in the foetal position and in agony, and Joe beside me declared "fuck it, I'm getting stoned". Basically at over 5000m and in the intense cold, very few people get any sleep up here, but it did amuse me to see Joe cross-legged, stoned, playing drums on the candles while I tried to rest my body on the small bed we had to share.
Day 8 - Lobuche - Kala Patthar (5550m) - Dingboche (4410m)At 5am with zero sleep Joe and I left the sick Brendan at camp and made the killer, completely uphill trek to the famous viewing point of Kala Patthar where the worldwide known panaorama of the Everest section of the Himalayas is shot from. With Operation 6000m growing closer, I took off up the slope at warp speed ... well, as fast as I bloody could at this altitude, reaching the summit in under an hour and resting on a frozen rock at the peak for another hour while Maila and Joe worked their way up. The views are everything you'd expect and watching the sun rise and coat the tips of the looming mountains in gold was spectacular.
Making the descent was a lot easier - at the base we picked up a slightly recovered Brendan and back tracked down the Thokla Pass and then veered off over a windy ridgeline to Dingboche. Here we killed time in our room, utterly exhausted from the last few days' work but captivated by the soaring Island Peak that dominated the view from our window.
Day 9 - Dingboche - Chukkung (4730m)Only 2 and a half hours uphill walk today resulted in a lazy start and deposited us in Chukkung at perfect time for lunch. Afterwards farewells were made to Joey who was heading home to Katdu, and Brendan and I set to relaxing and conserving energy for the Operation that would commence tomorrow morning. Here we met our climbing guide, Janak, who looked over our gear and declared the crampons shit - mine were held together by cellotape, so we hired new gear and then Janak did a brief going over of the equipment and how to use it. The inadequacy of this information and teaching was huge and left me particularly thankful that I'd spent years playing with ropes and climbing back home in NZ. The only other major task for today was to discard all the irrelevant gear to be left in Chukkung and pack for 6000m.
Day 10 - Chukkung - Island Peak Base Camp (5100m)
With mighty Maila hours away taking Joey to Pangboche, Brendan and I set of to IPBC with Janak. Ambling along the base of many soaring peaks we walked a relatively easy 2 and a half hours squashed in a valley where a mighty river forced its way downhill. Suddenly our new home exploded out of the boulders above us and we were there! There we stayed for the rest of the day sucking in as much oxygen as possible at this height.
We dined on tasty but small portions of 2 minute noodles, spent countless hours laying in our tent, occasionally walking around the camp or ascending small sections of the valley hills for views of the 5000-8000m peaks that shadowed our valley. Amusement came in the form of watching strange packs of noisy birds exploring the camp or deadly black crows absorbed in a graceful yet daring game of them verse the air currents and valley walls. To be honest I didn't really enough energy to do more than eat and watch birds, and was on strict orders not to sleep till darkness fell.
When darkness did fall and the temperature plummented we went to zip up our tent only to find that this wasn't going to happen and the night was going to be significantly colder than anticipated. During the day I'd packed all my summit gear so about 7pm I crawled into my sleeping bag and hid from the cold that surrounded us.
Day 11 - Island Peak Base Camp - Island Peak Summit (6189m) - Chukkung - Dingboche (4410m)
Summit Day:
12am pulled around way too fast today as despite crawling into my sleeping bag at 7pm I had managed only an hour or so of sleep after a particularly irritating internal argument with myself on whether or not to go outside and take a leak in -10 degrees. I really did have to go and afterwards never really warmed up again and so never got back to sleep. After a breakfast of two minute noodles and tea (the same thing we had for lunch and dinner - and not really adequate for the energy we are about to expend), the three of us climbers (Janak, Brendon and myself) began our assent at 1am.
The ascent got off to a bad start for me as my physical fitness was a lot higher than Brendon's and despite being plagued by an intense cold the whole trek I was also better acclimatised. I soon found myself waiting on Brendon which sucks at this temperature as you are soon extremely cold. In the end I took off ahead of the guide on my own, finding my personal route up by head lamp. This meant I was able to push on at my own consistent pace and take breath catching stops that are short instead of ambling up and taking long rests that put the heart in an up and down cycle of pumping and chilling that is inefficient for a mountain climb. However this also meant that at the high camp point (5600m) I had to wait over an hour for the other two members to arrive and then sit stewing while they rested for what seemed like an eternity! When the crew was finally ready to move on we ascended up the edge of an old glacial path that had steep rock sides that called for a bit of rock climbing - a little scary in the dark and cumbersome in ice boots but at the same time pretty fun to be doing something that gets the adrenaline flowing as we had no ropes and a mistake could mean ... well ...
We moved up in altitude and into a particularly dangerous moraine of rocks, here I got annoyed at the slow progress of the group as rocks were falling and I did not want to end up flattened and we had heard two avalanches break free from the snowy glacier above and the noise of them is enough to make you piss yourself. We did end up above this section eventually, and were now at the edge of a glacier: one badly placed step could send you over the edge to a messy death . At the edge of the glacier we put on our crampons (which I put on myself after only seeing them a few days ago for the 1st time, this may sound a bit silly to gloat over but at the 6000m altitude and the -20 degrees cold that was freezing my toes and fingers to a black death it was a good accomplishment), harness, and extra puffer jacket as well as getting my weapon/ice axe ready.
Once geared up we finally put a rope on and began the tricky route through the glacier and its deep snow, succeeding at not falling into any crevasse along the way.
After 4 hours of climbing we were near the base of the most technical section: a 150m vertical climb using the axe and ropes.
Here Brendon decided to call it quits and so me and the guide ascended alone. This basically turned into me ascending alone as the guide was so badly acclimatised he was totally concerned with just making the summit himself and so I went about the climb in my own way. This involved breaking the fixed rope out of ice and guessing at the best technique, which I got wrong and soon found myself physically exhausted and gasping for air. I changed style and luckily managed not to screw up any of my rope changes and avoided a once and a life time slip and slide.
At the top of this vertical section I found myself on a snowy ridge that was like a knife edge only instead of deadly steel it was knee-waist deep powdery snow (maybe inviting on my snowboard, but now a huge obstacle)!
I continued ascending the ropes jamming my axe into the snow taking a few steps, sucking in some air and then repeating the process, an hour of slow, excruciatingly painful hard work saw me collapse on the small platform that is the 6189m summit of Island Peak (Imja Tse). For about 5 minutes I just kind of lay there stoked that I was there but at the same time not really there!
Slowly I came back together and began to look around: dwarfing me from above were a few 7000-8000m peaks that made me feel so totally inferior and proud that Sir Edmund Hillary had been the 1st to climb that 8848m goddess of Everest. Everywhere else I was at the same level of the 360 degrees panoramic mountain view I was immersed in, it was humbling and empowering and scary and just plain HIGH.
It was pretty hard to stand at the top as my safety was simply my axe slammed into the ice and my rope and karabiner clipped into it, the line was pretty short and felt like someone was pulling me down.
I used my disposable camera to try and catch some of the moment as my batteries on the digital had frozen about an hour ago along with all my water and my chocolate bar.
After letting out a primal scream of success (an ascending group from below even responded - cool) it was time to do the other half of the job and get my dehydrated, hungry, tired arse back down to base camp. Zipping down the ropes on the figure 8 was not even as easy as I had hoped, falling into waist deep patches of snow slow you down and if you let go of the rope you will be back on the slip and slide I had avoided earlier. I had taken off my outer gloves so I could work the rope and gear better and nearly burnt through my glove despite the rope being frozen!
Sitting at the end of the ropes waiting for my guide I had one of the million coughing fits that had been eating at my throat and lungs for the entire trip but that had got significantly worse at the altitude, then as I expelled what I expected to be another gob of gunk I got one of the most intense frights of my life spitting a disgusting pool of bloody fluid that violated the snow below me and stared me in the face as if to say "what ya gonna do bout it?" Only one thing to do, so I set off down the glacier at warp speed, easier now hat the guide was so drained he could not be bothered about a safety rope! We ran and jumped our way through the ice and snow, expertly missing all the bottomless crevasses that we could not see and in what seemed like no time at all we collapsed onto the rocky mountain edge. Here I tried to de-gear, which proved bloody hard as my mind could only focus on the red stained snow whispering to me "why are you leaving a part of yourself here?".
I managed to take my gear off, the sun had peaked over the mountains during our time on the summit blanketing the surrounding snow caps in a golden cloak that had been enchanting to watch, but now it was threatening to cook me inside out. The rocky moraine was even more terrifying in the day light as I watched rocks slide down and occasionally passed but I did manage to descend the slope and make my way over boulders until I bumped into Brendon and our guide.
I continued down the rocky slope and in about 2 hours I stumbled into base camp (it had taken only 5hours to summit including nearly 1 and a half hours of waiting) but the descent was a blur, I was totally starved, thirsty and had zero energy to work with. At base camp I dumped my pack, ripped of the layers and layers of clothing stuffing them into my dry bag then curled up into the fetal position in the sun where I convulsed in agony for the next few hours waiting for Brendon to make it back to camp. By 11pm we set out for Chukkung for a 2-3 hour walk over the mountain plains along a river trail and skirting the edge of a huge glacier that would eventually deposit us at our nights stop.
We still hadn't had any food or water so I literally stumbled over every blimmin' rock along the way allowing the wilderness to steal even more of my energy reserves as if it was playing with me in return for the snow I had trampled in my selfish attack on the white gold peak in what now felt like a dreamy past of years gone by.
Hours later I stumbled back into Chukkung and met the mighty Maila who feed me like a mother duck saving her duckling from starvation and hydrating me back from the internal desert I had been existing in since before the summit. At Chukkung I waited on Brendon presumably stumbling along behind me, and after he had been saved by our godly guide Maila (not the incompetent climbing guide who had taken off from base camp leaving us to fend for ourselves on the return journey) we were given the news that we could not stay in Chukkung tonight as the lodge was full and so we set off for another 2-3 hour trek down to Dingboche! This was easier now that we had something like energy but were still totally depleted from the summit. I followed in behind our porters who zipped along at a good steady rate and chatted the whole time, smiling to me as they turned to check on their human tail. We made it to Dingboche and once we had a room we basically sat on our bed like zombies. With some amount of what felt to me to be superhuman effort I managed to eat and drink my way through the evening enjoying a buffalo steak and chips as a success dinner and then zombie danced my way to be where I slept like a brick - you could have come and stomped on my head and I would have stayed asleep! It wouldn't have felt any different from the killer headache I've had for the whole trek anyway.
Day 12 - Dingboche - Phortse (3810m)
After enforcing a much deserved sleep in and enjoying a steaming coffee at the window while gazing over a sleepy Dingboche village we set off for the village of Phortse, which desperately clings to the edge of a mountain slope. As we passed through Dingboche the sleepiness eroded and the yak farming community got stuck into the day's work. Dingboche is one of the few villages that has successfully adapted to the tourists flowing through without compromising the natural and traditional way of life they've existed in for so long. The pace was slow as the effects of summit day were clearly evident, but we eventually strolled into Pangboche for lunch and with bloated bellies reluctantly headed off again.
From Pangboche we diverged off the main tourist trail walking through the old village also possessing traditional character and were soon making our way around the mountainsides with spectacular views of the valleys that house the Tengboche - Namche track, and particularly enjoying the fact that we were not one of the hundreds walking it that day. On the whole trip to Phortse we passed only 2 tourists - without having to defend our position (mainly from "stickers") in our walking line was likely a factor in the excessively slow day's walk, but we did eventually descend into a peaceful Phortse. The evening was spent watching in amazement as young boys carried huge rocks to new houses under construction - the contraption used to carry the rocks little more than a plank of wood and a piece of rope over their head.
Day 13 - Phortse - Namche (3450m)
Today we made our way through a peaceful forested valley whose small trail was carpeted in the falling leaves and eventually led us to an old crumbling bridge - a sure sign we were off the main tourist route. Here the peacefulness ended as we made our way up the Mong Pass - it seemed other tourists coming from Namche had worked out there was an alternative route to Pangboche, made even more attractive with Tengboche being closed to tourists. Basically we were back in position-defending mode with stickers surrounding us at every turn!
Suddenly our trail merged back with the main highway and we retraced our steps back into Namche Bazaar. A little bit of new excited existed here as the Tibetan market was under way and so I strolled around a little taken back by the difference between the Tibetans and Neplalis - the Tibetan face appears almost weather beaten and illustrates intense hardships their life consists of.
Day 14 - Namche - Phakding (2652m)Continuing the retracement of our path this time down hill from Namche to Phakding, was considerably more enjoyable that the upward journey. We basked in the beautiful core warming sunshine, smiling inwardly at the puffing punters making their way up! Despite so many days on the trail I continued to be amazed at the strength and endurance of the porters, and think perhaps I may have a few ideas for my clients when I come home! It seemed almost sudden that we found ourselves back at our lodge in Phakding where Maila produced a huge bag of complimentary Bob and said it's time to enjoy!
Day 15 - Phakding - Chaunkharka - Lukla (2840m)Our final day of trekking had finally arrived and we looked upon it with both the joy of achievement and the sadness of something great coming to an end, but these thoughts drifted into the background relatively quickly and we began ascending the highway to Lukla. Battling passed the masses we made a decision to cut off the track and soon found ourselves strolling down a grassy path rarely used and completely secluded. We ended up in Chaunkharka with no tourists in sight, where nestled next to the village's main Buddhist stupa stood a quaint lodge where an elderly lady set about cooking us Sherpa stew from scratch, pulling vegetables from the fields and creating a flavour explosion with an artful sprinkle of hundreds of herbs. The best thing about the stew was that she continually came back to top up our bowls, that made it almost impossible to make the final walk back into Lukla.
Eventually we did make our way to Lukla village where we dumped our bags and zig-zagged our way through the stony streets stopping to watch intense games of flicks or simply observe the daily goings on of Lukla life.
A huge celebrationary dinner and a warm lodge made us feel like we were living in total luxury and our only major task was to pack our bags for our flight back to Kathmandu in the morning. This is something that brings a level of pain to any trekker in the region at the moment - weighing on our minds of the whole trip was the ill fated Yeti Airlines flight that had crashed into the mountainside the day after we had landed in Lukla, killing 18 excited trekkers and pilot who had not yet begun their mountain adventure. A stark reminder is the crash site where the remains lie exposed to the world leaving the mountains to look over and remember them for all time to come.
Day 16 - Lukla - Kathmandu - Liv
We awoke with no trekking to sap our energy and hung out waiting for a call from the nearby airport that would send us scurrying the last few minutes to load our bag, go through "security checks" (do you have any knives? yes. oh, ok then), and eventually jump on a Yeit plane that was soon racing down the runway leaping off the cliff edge and almost grazing the mountain side as we flew below the stormy clouds above.
We landed in Kathmandu airport, grabbed a taxi, and headed for the trail finder office where we said our goodbyes to the godly guide Maila. At the office a huge hug was waiting for me and with so much to talk about we soon left trail finder so return to local Liv's home and what I would soon find out is now Terrible Thamel.
The bus ride was less than comfortable, with the woman sitting in the aisle next to Adam throwing up the whole way into a bag and then dumping the open bag onto the floor by his feet - nice.
The dancing and singing was in full force again - along the main street huge sound systems blared while trucks full of dancing, singing, chanting happy people bounced along. Marching bands followed people holding massive 4m flag sticks while they performed tricks to entertain the happy Nepalis crowding the streets. 
In the evening we met up with Hannah and Miriam (another volunteer) for dinner and a final catchup as Hannah heads to Pokhara tomorrow.
Along the streets were oil lamps lit up to light the way for Lakshmi (the goddess of wealth) into their homes and shops, and garlands of flowers hung in doorways. 
At the main intersection a group made a huge flower out of coloured sand and petals, surrounded by oil lamps that were vigilantly kept burning all night.
Some of the larger groups had dancers and accompanying bands, and looked like they were making a bit of money too! We generally sat back and enjoyed the festivities and in the evening went along to Trailfinder for some celebrating where we were fed fruit and intensely sugary sweets!!! 
Afterwards Liv went home to read her new book, while Adam went out with Joe and Adam for curry and general hanging out, sneaking back to the hotel in the early hours of the morning.
(My terrible puppy, who is not so terrible now and has finally made some 4-legged friends).
(Lucy, looking totally gorgeous as usual). 
(My favourite - Tara - the paraplegic, who gets around by bouncing!)
(Grandpa - the punk dog!!!)
Passing over the Kathmandu river gave us nice views of the mountains in the distance and of the flowing rubbish dump.
Patan's homes are centred around courtyards where children play together and adults attend to daily chores like washing and food preparation. It is very common to see young girls/ toddlers with dark makeup around their eyes - this is quite unusual to us, but they look absolutely beautiful.
In Patan Durbar Square our eyes struggled to take in the busy scene, where old temples are crammed together and people (locals and tourists) crowd around to absorb the atmosphere and the sights. When Liv and Hannah came last week there was a little girl sitting on a chain fence swinging away for hours, and sure enough today the same girl was there enjoying the sunshine and her daily swinging schedule! 
It's really cool to see the locals almost making themselves a part of the monument, not just leaving them to be spectacles for the thousands of tourists!!
