A Walk Among Giants: Part III

Read Part I
Read Part II

Finally the day dawned and after an early breakfast, we stepped out into the freezing morning to head for base camp. A trek of a couple of hours in each direction, that takes you first up gradual climb and then along a ridge, not much wider than a car in most places, that runs alongside the Khumbu Ice fall. The morning was bitterly cold but clear and the deep blue sky and clear air meant that we had an absolutely spectacular view of the summit of Mt Everest and the surrounding peaks.

Everest Peering through Lhotse

Sharya, on the approach to Base Camp

To see this gigantic mountain up close and personal was a dream come true. It was emotional and it was powerful. It reminded me of my insignificance in the scale of the earth and it renewed by admiration for those who have the courage to take it on.

Chehan, Sajeda, Jothi and Johann set off in front with Suresh, Sharya and I behind them. Amanda and Dila, Vassa and Steffan brought up the rear with Marlon accompanying them. We took our time to stop and savor the beauty of our surroundings; we took photographs and we spent time reflecting on where we were and what we had achieved and it felt good, but I was exhausted. The nine days on the trail had taken its toll and It was some gentle prodding by Suresh and the desire to reach the end point with my son, that kept me getting up from the may perches I found and get on with it.

I do admit that I had two occasions where if my memory serves me correct, I told Suresh, “I came to see base camp, I can see f****ng base camp, I am not taking another f****ng step”. Sharya’s presence and Suresh’s persistence changed that and we plodded on. After what seemed like hours, we were finally at the pile of rocks and the prayer flags that symbolized the end of the Everest Base Camp trek. We waited for the whole group to gather, and then there were hugs and high fives, photographs and tears. We sat around savoring the moment and enjoying the view. Twelve of the fourteen of us who started off from Sri Lanka had made it. This was more than we expected and special mention needs to be made of Dila, Vassa and Steffan who were exceptional. Most of us may have been fitter and faster, but they faced serious physical and emotional challenges and through sheer grit, and determination, and in Dila’s case, with a little help and encouragement from an amazing husband, they made it.

The twelve of us, at Everest Base Camp.

Sharya and I missed having Ashani with us, but we picked up a souvenir pebble for her and savored the moment the two of us had together. My son is now an adult, who is weeks away from leaving home and heading out to start his own life and this moment meant a lot to me.

Father and son, celebrate.

In most climbs the descend claims the most number of casualties. This is because most people are fatigued, relaxed as they have accomplished what they came for and because going downhill is sometimes much tougher and prone to more accidents than going uphill. We reminded ourselves of this, and in pretty much the same order we came up, we headed back to Gorak Shep.

Within sight of Gorak Shep I made a mistake. Sharya had finished his water, as had I and he was starting to feel de hydrated. He took a few sips of Suresh, but since he was running low as well, asked me if he could press on to the lodge, which was now within sight, but still a fare distance away.

Although I did tell him, that no one died of dehydration from being thirsty for a few minutes, I did let him take off on his own, and he broke into a near trot to head back. This was a huge mistake. Although we were descending, we were still well about 17,000 feet and exertion at this height can result in a variety of problems.

When I got back to the lodge I noticed Sharya was not doing too good, and I made him drink more tea and water. He drank this, and said he had to get sick and walked out of the lodge with me. I was holding him while he brought up his water, but noticed that with every retch, the color was turning from pink to finally, a bright red. Throwing up blood was not a good sign and I brought him back into the lodge and sat him down. He was perfectly lucid and had no signs of losing his bearings, but the sheer exhaustion brought on by the unnecessary pace of his return to the lodge had brought this on.

Marlon, Amanda and I made a quick conference and called for a chopper. The weather was bad and we couldn’t get an evacuation for that afternoon, so there was little choice but to take Sharya down to lower altitude. We looked for a yak, a pony or any means of taking him down and almost magically two young Sherpas walked in and offered to carry him down.

In what seemed like a couple of seconds, Sharya was piggy back, on the Sherpa, and taking off out of the lodge. I hastily grabbed my equipment and followed. Jothi and Suresh, immediately followed suit to support me and we headed off behind the fast disappearing form of my son, hanging on to the back of a Sherpa as they disappeared over a ridge and onto Loboche.

I have to admit that seeing them go and the reality of the situation dawning on me, resulted in a mini melt down. I had flashbacks of leaving my younger son Sachin, in a pre op room in a hospital, before he had surgery on his heart. The same feeling of terror and helplessness gripped me and for a moment, I felt myself falling into an abyss of despair, losing total control. This is not a nice feeling and thankfully, it left me as fast as it hit me, and I was back to mechanically [and with a lot more determination and effort], heading down the mountain to Loboche. Having Jothi’s and Suresh’s support helped in more ways than they would ever know.

We made it to Loboche to find Sharya, feeling better but resting in bed. This was a huge relief and I then set about re hydrating him with water and ‘Jeevani’ a rehydrating mix. He was unable to hold down more than sips but took in as much as he could.

Sajeda, Chehan and Johann were already at the lodge when I arrived, but the others appeared at Loboche, well after dark. This was nerve wracking for us, but the skill of the guides and the easing up of the terrain meant the risk was minimized some. Amanda and Dila immediately took over the care from me, and helped Sharya take in more fluids. The two of them had decided to take a chopper back to Kathmandu, and had offered Vassa a ride back with them. There being a fourth seat available, they insisted Sharya would fly back with them and get to a hospital in Kathmandu as soon as possible. Amanda and Dila have known Sharya since he was a child, and I was very comforted by the knowledge that he was in such caring hands. This decided, the next morning the chopper was to pick them up from Loboche at 8.30 in the morning.

The next morning, Sharya was feeling better but could still manage only sips of water. Anything more could not be held, so there was still cause for concern. Sharya was probably one of the fittest in the group and it goes to show the importance of pacing oneself at high altitude. The slightest variation can result in dramatic reactions in your body. There is a mantra on Kilimanjaro that holds true on any mountain. “Pole Pole”, which means “slowly”. The slower you take it, the more likely you are to make it.

In the morning we bid farewell to the four who were departing, and I had decided that I would walk down to Periche and having picked Ashani, get a chopper back to Kathmandu myself. I had no idea of Sharya’s condition and felt it was best I got to where he was, as soon as possible. We were sad that the group had to split, but we had different plans of descending anyway as Sajeda and Chehan were leaving early to catch flights back due to personal commitments. We watched the chopper take off and went back in to prepare for the walk down. Jothi was very sick and had lost his voice, and I was concerned that he may have to rest an extra day in Loboche. Marlon was to stay back and walk down with remaining group and Suresh and I headed out, back to Periche. The climb down was a lot more fun the climb up. We were relaxed and kept a good pace. The familiar terrain meant that we didn’t need a guide and we enjoyed the beautiful morning and the views as we walked back.

The return took us longer than we expected, but we were relieved to be finally back in the lodge and able to take our boots off next to the warmth of the stove. Ashani was greeted and briefed regarding Sharya’s situation and the change in plans and we began preparing for our return.

The group was back together by evening. Sajeda and Chehan had headed on to Ama Dablam Gardens for the night. A challenging walk for a day, but it got them closer to their destination. The rest of us, were to spend the night at Periche. Geoff and Steffan were taking up the two remaining seats on the chopper which meant, Johann, Suresh, a now recovered Jothi and Marlon were to walk back alone.

They decided to try and catch up with Sajeda and Chehan at Namche and were to head out early, soon after we took off.

The trek ended differently to what I had in mind. Leaving by chopper was sad, and I felt that the round trip was incomplete, but as in life, plans change. We consoled ourselves with the anticipation of a hot shower and clean clothes. My mind was at ease, as by night fall the day before we had news that Sharya was cleared by the doctors and he has just suffered from exhaustion.

Transportation arrives.

We had the entire group of porters and guides come to bid us farewell. It has to be mentioned that the effort these young men put into carrying our equipment back and forth, and helping us reach our destination, was invaluable. We hugged and shook hands and finally when the chopper arrived, stepped onboard, leaving behind us, an amazingly beautiful piece of nature’s creation. We left the pristine air, the clear skies and sound of the mountains to be transported within a short period of time to the surreal mayhem that is Kathmandu. The adjustment was tougher than I thought, but checking into the lovely Grand Hyatt, having an ice cold beer and stepping under a hot shower changed all that.

Our main man Nava in the centre.

Being back in Kathmandu was almost surreal. We decided to stay at the more comfortable Hyatt, needing a bit of pampering after our time on the mountain and were not disappointed. There is a period after a long trek of this nature that you truly appreciate the little luxuries we take for granted. Clean sheets, hot water showers, flushable toilets, clean clothes, all seem like special treats. The effects don’t just stop there.

Above: The man who made it happen, in his favorite footwear. (It should be noted that the temperature was hovering around 0 Celsius at this point.)

There is a deep feeling of accomplishment, of satisfaction and a quiet pride at what you have achieved; and this give you an amazing platform of confidence for all you take on in life. I don’t enjoy walking long distances, I don’t enjoy climbing or and I don’t enjoy heights as I have mentioned before, and so why I do I make these high altitude treks? I guess I do enjoy seeing and experiencing some of the most amazing sights in the world and the experience of pushing myself beyond my comfort zone; but most of all; I love the lessons I learn about myself. If you had asked me if I was ever going to do another high altitude trek, when I was up at 18,000 feet, you would have heard a barrage of profanity that would have made a sailor blush. You ask my now, and I would say yes. Without a shadow of a doubt, I would, and I am already working on our next trek. Would it be the last? Probably not; it’s something I would like to do for as long as I am able and well into the sunset years of my life. Hopefully, that’s still a few years off.