Kathmandu, Nepal

Spoiler Alert: all six of us successfully made it to Everest Base Camp at 17,600 feet.

cuz we’re straight up gangsters

This trip, with these people, was exactly what I (didn’t know I) needed.  Exactly what the doctor ordered…… along with Diamox, Ibuprofen, and expired Vicodin from past knee surgeries.

After loving the past three months of travel freedom, I didn’t anticipate that seeing familiar faces in a foreign land would fill me up to the brim with so much love and comfort a strong desire for touchy-feely physical contact to make sure they were really there (sorry not sorry).  Linsea.  James.  Bobby.  Mike.  Jess.  (And who can forget Dawa & Mingma, our guides, and Wong-chu, Zang-boo, & Yo-gis, our porters.)  The Dream Team: 24-hour Dal Bhat Power.  I can’t imagine hiking through Sagarmatha National Park with anyone else.

This is the true story of six friends, who did little to no training and thought Everest would be a good starter hike.  They agreed to test themselves, have their struggles photographed…… and find out what happens, when people stop taking showers and start vomiting their lunch after three-hour climbs straight uphill.  Real World: fried macaroni Everest.

For those of you confused why we didn’t attempt to SUMMIT Everest, no one on this dream team wanted to die.  Nor did we have $40-80k laying around, 2-3 months to complete the necessary acclimatization, mountaineering and survival training, OR enough granola bars and goo packets.  With a 1.6% mortality rate and a nickname of the ‘highest graveyard on planet earth’, can you blame us?

everest base camp was hard enough.

Let’s take it day by day to give you an accurate picture of the grueling 12-day trek through the Himalayas, because the major issues started right away.  Day one.  At least for me, cuz I had tummy troubles (aka tummy woes, aka Delhi belly, aka macaroni tonies, aka traveler’s diarrhea).  TMI?  Too bad.

• DAY ONE (April 1^st): Lukla to Phakding
  • Let’s DO this thing!
  • Ready to rock, we were ALL ENERGY as we walked through the first few mountain villages.  Chatty Kathys, all six of us.  Bursting with excitement…… gawking at the panoramic views & snow-capped peaks…… buying snickers bars every time they were offered (every 20ft).  Spirits were high.
  • Was all the chocolate, nougat and caramel swimming through our systems giving us life?  Or was Bobby & James’ theatrical rendition of Beauty & the Beast’s ‘This Provincial Life’ responsible?  Whatever it was, I didn’t care.  All MY energy was focused on not sharting.
  • That night, we settled into our first ‘teahouse’ which was NOT a cozy pagoda with ornamental décor where monks served jasmine, ginger, or masala tea in-between prayer services. Not quite sure why I expected that, but these ‘teahouses’ were budget lodges with attached restaurants that served fried noodles, fried rice, fried eggs on toast, and fried Tibetan bread that tasted like funnel cake……… in buildings with no heat.
• DAY TWO: Phakding to Namche Bazaar
  • High- I was getting really good at holding a perpetual butt clench for 8-10 hours at a time.
  • Low- I sat in a big ‘ole pile of yak shit while wearing my one and only pair of hiking pants, forcing me to switch to a long underwear/crazy-colored shorts combo the rest of the week. (All that clenching for nothing……… what a shame.)
  • Other low- I tried to pop two pimples that night which then grew FOUR TIMES THE SIZE by the following morning.  See?  I told you I was dealing with a lot.
• DAY THREE: acclimatization day in Namche Bazaar
  • Tummy woes solved, 100% of my concentration shifted to the Villanova v Michigan game (which ended that morning).  NCAA mens’ basketball, baby!  (Did I mention I went to Villanova?!?)
  • After speeding through our four-hour mini hike, I purchased the $15 internet/hot shower bundle to call my family and tell them I was safe check the final score.  Turns out that $15 buys you 2 full minutes of internet and you can only access Facebook Messenger.  THANK YOU MALLOY FAMILY for Facebook Messaging the final score.  I used the other 1 minute 52 seconds to ugly cry in the hallway before joining my friends, relaying the good news……… and ugly crying for another 10 minutes at lunch.
  • A CELEBRATION WAS IN ORDER TO HONOR THIS MOMENTOUS OCCASION.
  • Would a bulk block of medical-grade edibles do the trick?  Yes, it would.
  • We each chunked off what appeared to be the correct dosages with a switchblade…….. aaaaaaand then we had the best day of our lives.  Walking around Namche Bazaaaaaar, shoppinggggg, laughinggggg, telling stories that made no senseeeee.
  • Were they the correct dosages?  I don’t know; I’ve never tried medical weed before.  All I know is that we went to THE SAME BAKERY twice in two hours, I tried to dip pie into the caramel-colored swirl design on the plate (twice in two hours)……… and I ate the equivalent of 4 pieces of apple strudel between lunch and dinner.  No regrets.
  • Also, while we’re talking about the $15 internet/hot shower bundle……… not to be picky, but the ‘hot shower’ was a little too hot.  The water heater was stuck at 43 degrees Celsius (which, if my math is correct, is way-too-fucking-hot Fahrenheit).  I had to jump in and out of the water so my skin wouldn’t melt off.  Maybe showers aren’t for me anymore?  Too early to tell.  I’ll let you know when my skin grows back.
• DAY FOUR: Namche Bazaar to Tengboche
  • Performed minor toe surgery on a red and swollen left big toe (cut it, poked it, speared it, lanced it) before smothering it with triple antibiotics and slapping on an entire package of bandaids.  Good as new.
  • Late in the afternoon, we wandered into the Tengboche Monastery to watch, in silence, as the monks chanted their daily prayers.  What an unexpected and otherworldly treat.
  • LATER in the afternoon, Linsea and I made up a fun, new game guessing the origin of the stains on our twin bed blankets. Was it tomato sauce?  Was it lead paint?  Was it yak period blood?  WhatEVER it was, let’s pull that blanket riiiiight up under our chins and settle in for the night.  Snug as a bug.
• DAY FIVE: Tengboche to Pheriche
  • Mental note: pre-hike stairmasters, thighmasters, buttmasters (heck, a-n-y-thing that Suzanne Somers advertised) would have been a good idea.
  • Mental note: my easy-listening music mix was SPOT ON except for a last-minute addition of the Get Out theme song.  Irma Thomas to Alexi Murdoch to Purity Ring back to Kitty and Jose Gonzalez could have done without a creeptastic choir whispering ‘Sinky Lisaaaaaaa’.
  • Once we stopped moving, my lower back and glute pains ramped up to omega-level agony due to a heavier-than-necessary backpack, days 1-4. *Shooting back & butt pains, on day five, was the lowest point of my trekking experience.*
  • After dinner, in prime-time pain time, Dawa (our main Nepali guide) offered to spray me with this liquid nitrogen, antifreeze stuff right at the table……… and I didn’t think twice about depantsing myself, right there in the middle of the restaurant, so he could get to my trouble areas.
  • The miracle spray worked immediately.  That’s when I fell in love with Dawa.
• DAY SIX: acclimatization day in Pheriche
  • After dancing up and down the mountain with my favorite dance mix……… I fell into a bush.
  • I got flustered as porters were trying to pass me, and ended up triple-axeling away from the porters……… right into a thorn bush.  Not surprised.  And not hurt!  (I’m really good at falling.)
  • That afternoon, the whole team got to attend an AMS acute mountain sickness seminar (hosted by a cute, volunteer doctor from the Himalayan Rescue Association) to learn about HACE (high altitude cerebral edema), HAPE (high altitude pulmonary edema), and, my personal favorite, HAFE (high altitude flatulence expulsion).
  • Day six of card-playing and vitals-checking.  My gin rummy game was getting more impressive by the hour.  If only we played for money and not sour cream & onion pringles from 1972.
• DAY SEVEN: Pheriche to Lobuche
  • Danced up the mountain again.  This time with James.
  • Got in trouble by our guides because we weren’t following the altitude principles, but I did NOT hear that cute, volunteer doctor explicitly call out ‘no dancing’ in the AMS seminar.  Agree to disagree on how to follow the altitude principles.  I hear you on the hydration and mini-breaks to catch your breath, but ‘no dancing’ seems a little extreme……
• DAY EIGHT: Lobuche to EVEREST BASE CAMP back to Gorakshep
  • The day of the emotional break, where FOUR out of the seven Englishmen we were climbing with got helicoptered off the mountain.  And one of MY teammates (who will not be named *cough* Jess *cough*) accidentally chose the helicopter landing pad, at Everest Base Camp, to drop trou and do her business while holding eye contact with one of the helicopter pilots.
  • We hiked next to glaciers (and wild dogs) most of the day, but the Dream Team morale dipped to record lows due to altitude issues.  Everything from raging headaches to bloody noses, gastroenteritis, Khumbu coughs, loss of appetite, and vomiting in the morning, noon, and night.  Basically, think twice about bringing a first date on this mountain.  Vanity goes out the window REAL quick…… and you’re left with a pooping, puking, crying, wheezing, sneezing, sniveling, snotting, coughing, easily-winded pre-Pepto-Bismol version of yourself that’s not appealing to another living creature.
  • On a positive note, you can blame all your farts on either donkeys, yaks, a yak/oxen hybrid we named ‘yaaaaaaaaax!!!’ or High Altitude Flatulence Expulsion.  It’s science.
• DAY NINE: Gorakshep to Dingboche
  • Everyone was hurting.  Talks of Chipotle ran rampant, and chips & guacamole took up 80% of conversation.
  • The three-day descent commenced with a 13km physically-challenging hike, up and down never-ending steep hills. Up 600m of elevation, down 600m of elevation.  Over and over again on treacherous, rocky paths AFTER your legs have turned to Jell-O and you’ve wiped out two more times on the boulder-heavy porter trail.
  • Hike-dancing was the only way I got through……… besides the kindness of porters’, who were the first ones to offer a helping hand, even when lugging 200-300 pounds of whatever biscuit or banana clip was strapped to their backs.  Those guys are amazing.
• DAY TEN: Dingboche to Namche Bazaar
  • We shuffled through another 21km hike (up and down and up and down and up and down) as our breathing patterns returned to normal.  We no longer gasped for air every time we took a sip of water, which was nice……… but that’s when the slaphappy giggles started up, so we couldn’t breathe anyway.
• DAY ELEVEN: Namche Bazaar to Lukla
  • How about another 19km hike to cap off the trek?  Why not, coconut!
  • As soon as everyone made it to Lukla, we cracked open our first Everest-brand beers and never turned back.  Celebratory dinner and drinks, with the porters & guides, turned into exactly what I’d been waiting for that whole dang week: A DANCE PARTY IN A DISCO PUB.
  • Dressed in my Sunday best every color of the rainbow, with long underwear pushed up over my knees……. and thick hiking socks pushed down to my ankles, that dance floor heated up FAST.
  • Whether it was my personal dance mix on the loudspeaker (which was dangerous for others since I know every isolated beat, neck pop and shoulder shimmy on that whole mix) or the flowing, 7% Nepal Ices that tasted like college……… conditions were perfect to CRUSH a solo spotlight performance in the middle of the dance circle.
  • And then, just as my confidence level was at an all-time high……… I fell through a fucking wall.
  • Why would the Waves Pub hang a tapestry over a monster hole in the wall?
  • Of course I would find it, try to rest my arm on it, and fall right through it (as everyone was still looking my way).
  • Lesson learned.  Next time, before truly exhausting myself on a dance floor, I need to complete a full inspection of the property.
  • Or not…… I’m a human Gumby at this point.
• DAY TWELVE: Lukla Airport back to Kathmandu
  • Did I mention that the Lukla Airport has been rated the world’s most dangerous airport for the past 20 odd years due to a short runway and nonexistent safety protocols?  No?  Well, we got the second-to-last flight of the day (at 11am) and thanked our lucky stars to be on the way back to big city livin’ (in Kathmandu).

And there you have it.  An intense, life-altering, shared experience with friendships forged in the fire of adversity.  Everyone on this trip: please be aware that I’m (now & forever) obsessed with each one of you…… and will giggle myself to sleep with memories of the past 2 weeks.

I’m going to relive our conversations about life, love, spirituality, butt doubles, archery, and Lorraine Bracco in Medicine Man.  I’m going to remind myself to ‘don’t worry, chicken curry’ if I get Lestor-sized blisters or if a café doesn’t offer hot pineapple tea.  I’m going to think back on all the morning hallway singalongs or the ukulele sessions before dinner where Linsea, Bobby and James would hit The Lion King’s ‘Circle of Life’ crescendo right as a couple ‘a yaks rolled past the lodge window, as if on cue.  But most of all, I’m going to miss Mingma (our assistant guide) tricking Linsea into ordering whatever HE wanted to eat for dinner.

I love you guys.  So much.  Which is why I can’t resist another picture slideshow.

the team

the team plus one random creep on the left.  WHAT are you doing, sir?

sleeping on a twin bed felt DECADENT, but you still had to mummify yourself in four layers of clothing, a sub-zero sleeping bag, and tuck yourself underneath 1-3 thick, stained, and potentially disease-ridden blankets. #icecube

the cambodian leg hair threading friendship bracelets came in quite handy

because mountain friendships are the closest friendships

you can’t fake a love like this…

or a view like this…

because thaaaaat’s what friends are forrrrrr

well, that, and taking candid photos of you hiking…

and making sure you don’t fall over the railing of a suspension bridge…

and doing impressions of llama del rey

i have a million photos (thanks to James) and i’m incapable of choosing favorites

because we were hams for 12 straight days

and, clearly, loving life in between long stretches of struggle city

but how can you complain when villanova won the NCAA championship?!  v’s up, baby.

or when there’s voguing to be done

thanks for humoring me

And THANKS, Mom & Ryan, for sneaking in a few extra surprises in that hiking duffel I packed before I left the states.  Like those chocolate-covered marshmallow easter eggs.  And those Little Debbie pre-packaged cupcakes (embarrassingly, the only food I’ve missed, thus far, from home).  And, naturally……… a popsicle stick with my Dad’s face on it (aka flat Tommy).

flat Tommy loves veggie cheese & egg fried rice

Welp, it’s time to bid my friends goodbye, reestablish my role as Solo Susan, and travel out to the Nepali boonies for another week-long volunteering stretch of hard labor and zero connectivity.

I’ll miss you guys.

I’ll miss this hike.

And I’ll miss the plentiful shopping opportunities at the local Walmart.

Here’s hoping I don’t fall into any more walls between now and the next post.  No promises.

xoxo,

She Gone Girl