Evacuation from Everest Three Passes

One of the things that I love about travel is that you’re free to make it all up as you go along. Nepal wasn’t even on our radar at the beginning of this trip and it wasn’t until the experience with the family around Annapurna where we saw the Himalaya from some distance, that I became curious about what it might be like walking amongst the biggest mountains in the world.

So, after the family left for Austria I began planning and preparing by upgraded my wardrobe of T-shirts, shorts and sandals by borrowing, buying and renting equipment to keep me safe at the 5,500m altitudes of the Everest three passes trek. I fortuitously found a trekking partner in a Kathmandu cafe and we agreed on a simple arrangement to watch out for each other’s safety at altitude given that neither of us were traveling with guides or porters. As it turned out, we were one of the very few to go it alone and the arrangement was a valuable one!

I was somewhat apprehensive about returning to altitude as my only previous experience at these kind of levels did not end well. On that occasion, I was going over a 5,200M pass in Bolivia on a bus and ended up passing out with a simultaneous burst of gas from all directions, much to the amusement of others on board. Accordingly, I took all precautions that I could to prevent altitude sickness and had the time for the most important prevention – to ascend slowly.

Our intention was to complete the 20 day Everest Three Passes trek, consisting of three 5,500 metre passes as well as the Everest Base Camp and Gokyo region. We got about half way around until we were evacuated…

It was certainly a journey different from all other travel experiences. I found it amazing how the magnificence and beauty of the mountains, the inspirational stories of those around you, the physical exertion – magnified by low levels of oxygen, the focus on what is involved for the next leg of the trip, and the absence of internet means that your journey completely envelops and wraps around you. The outside world faded away into a distant background. Together with this were elevated levels of emotion (perhaps from the lower levels of oxygen!) and a kind of sense of spirituality from walking amongst these giants.

This was all broken open abruptly on the tenth evening when my hiking partner, Caitlin, began developing High Altitude Pulmonary Edima and Acute Mountain Sickness. It came on quickly and was unexpected given we had already been at our maximum altitude for days and had been very cautious with our ascent. Caitlin’s lungs began filling with liquid and her blood oxygen levels nose dived as the evening progressed. We were fortunate to be staying at a tea house that had an emergency oxygen supply (at a price!) that could keep her stable until early the next morning when a helicopter could fly in and evacuate us back to a hospital in Kathmandu.

The whole experience of the evacuation was surreal. Neither of us had slept the previous night. The helicopter ride was breathtaking. The ambulance with sirens blearing through the streets of Kathmandu seemed a little over the top. And then to the nitty gritty of dealing with insurance companies and some over zealous debt collectors in the hospital added to the ordeal! Thankfully, Caitlin has recovered fully and is now out of hospital.

Even though it ended prematurely in an unexpected way, the overall experience was quite a profound one. For me, my pay back was after day three when we got our first glimpse of Everest in a stunning walk out of Namche. Overall, it will certainly go down as one of my most memorable travelling adventures!

After a fatal crash at Lukla airport three days earlier, time spent reading the safety instructions felt well spent!

The runway at Lukla is remarkably short. This, together with the volatility of mountains on weather patterns and the high altitude has given this a track record of being the most dangerous airport in the world.

Prayer wheels on the way to Namche (3,400m) before we got dumped on by hail after waiting an hour at a permit checkpoint.

The weather cleared the next day for a beautiful acclimatisation walk around the surrounding Khumbu area…

…where we had our first glimpse of Everest (direct centre). I could have gone home happy at this point. From there, everything else felt like a bonus…

On day four we had another beautiful morning for our walk to Pangboche (4,000m)

Yaks with the stunning Ama Dablan in the background

Whenever my 10kg backpack felt heavy, I thought of this guy… Empty they are 15kg each. Full they are 30kg. Sherpas carry them up full two at a time.

On day five we had another acclimatisation walk to the base camp (4,600m) of Ama Dablan, one of the iconic mountains of the Everest region.

On day six we headed to Dingboche (4,400m)…

…and did a tough acclimatisation walk up to Nahnkartshang peak (5,100m)

We found that effort does not always equal reward and that was certainly the case in this instance where we arrived too late in the day when the clouds began to roll in, as they typically did in the late morning. However, sometimes we were rewarded for little effort, so it all balanced out.

On day seven we had a relatively less strenuous day on our way to Chukung (4,700M). It was refreshing to get away from the main tourist trail to Everest Base Camp, with just a handful of other trekkers taking the longer route.

And on our next acclimatisation day headed up on a strenuous climb to Chukung Ri (5,500m)

Day nine was a real gut buster as we took on the Kongma La pass (5,500m) to Lobuche (4,900m)

Coming down the other side of the pass was almost as strenuous as going up due to the loose scree and ice…

And navigating the glacier for the last Kilometer before Lobuche took the rest of what remained of our energy…

Exhausted, and in hindsight, probably feeling the first symptoms of the onset of altitude sickness, Caitlin rested the next day. I continued on to rejoin the Everest Base Camp tourist train.

With no real interest or time that day for visiting the base camp itself, I climbed Kala Patthar, overlooking Everest and the camp. The winds were near gale force by the time I reached the top and one of the cliff faces was a vertical drop. To say that it was exhilerating to pose for this photo was an understatement. As they say, if you don’t pee yourself a little, it’s not a real trek…

I returned to Lobuche late that afternoon and Caitlin’s condition began to rapidly deteriorate in the early evening. Early the next morning we flew by helicopter to Lukla (below) and on to Kathmandu.

Caitlin was not alone. We were amazed at how prevalent altitude sickness was. Almost all groups we met had at-least one of their members who couldn’t continue because of it. We also met several people descending after being unable to continue and saw several in delirious conditions, their eyes showing clearly that they were no longer on the same planet. Even in the hospital in Kathmandu, we met the guide of a Japanese group we met in Pangboche who had come down by helicopter with a group member.

And so, after one and a half months and with a few more days in Kathmandu to organise next steps, I’m about to leave this country with very mixed views on it;

On the one hand, parts of the country are spectacularly beautiful offering an unparalleled mountain experience. There is also authenticity and genuineness to the people that we have met, which seems to be encapsulated in the ‘Namaste’ greeting which feels like it has a depth and meaning far greater than in other parts of the world.

On the other hand, we have experienced both directly and at a societal level massive levels of corruption. At a societal level, it is sad to see this lead to degradation of the country’s environmental beauty which is Nepal’s greatest resource. We also encountered many attempts at direct scams, the worst of which was being financially extorted for oxygen in a life threatening situation. All of this is surprisingly disappointing in a country where the concept of ‘karma’ is so prevalent.

However, the bottom line for me though is that I will be back. The country has so much to offer and to explore that it feels only the surface has been scratched.