bedheadchicken

Well it seemed like a good idea at the time.

That's pretty much how I would describe my trip to Nepal. Let me start out with some advice- when traveling around the world to do something physically grueling in a third-world nation, being woefully unprepared adds a certain amount of surprise and unpredictability to your trip. It's definitely the way to go.

In case you have some time today and are looking for a story involving lots of gross human bodily functions, here it is! Finally!!!

(This is my way of catching up with people).

Let me back up, a few months ago when my dear friend, and human muscle, Kacey Chapin, told me that she was going to go to Nepal and hike to Mount Everest Base Camp, I decided, based on no knowledge whatsoever of what that involved, that I was going to accompany her. Because I find that life is most exciting when I base major decisions on nothing.

Well not REALLY nothing. But when my friend Ann asked me if I was worried about the physical requirements of such a journey I looked at her like she was an idiot. "NO!" I yelled. "Why would I be worried?! We're just walking! I do that every day!" I then took up the train to my cape, draped it over my forearm, and took off in a huff.

I'd show her!

I took off the day after I finished my last stupid job and flew 14 hours to New Delhi, India. There I had a 10 over layover before taking the 2 hour flight to Nepal. That was all a delight. AND, I should mention, that my shoulders were sore after the short walk from my father's car at Newark Airport to the check-in counter from wearing the backpack from my that I was to be wearing while DOING all this hiking. I was off to a good start.

Kacey had proceeded me by 3 days and had arranged for a car to pick me up from the Kathmandu airport and take me to the hotel. So when someone met me outside and said "I take you to hotel now?" I was delighted.

"Oh! Are you the car Kacey sent? Are you looking for Chris Collins?"

"....yes. no problem"

"Great"

I took off my bag and handed it to him. He put it in the back of a car nearby.

"You give me $20 bucks. No problem"

"For the ride?" I asked. Seemed a bit steep over there.

"For the bag. I help you"

Just as the confusion registered on my face another small man in sandals came running up to me holding my name on a piece of paper.

"Chris?"

"Yeah. Wait..."

And the other guy was holding out his hand. Just looking for $20 for taking my bag from me and putting it in a random waiting cab.

Welcome to Kathmandu.






Kathmandu is batshit crazy. It's filthy, smells like shit (literally), TEEMING with people, incredibly alive, and exhausting. I've put some pictures up in a photo album here. That can be your visual guide for the trip.


Almost everyone advises a rest day in Kathmandu to get over the jet lag and stuff, but I couldn't wait to get out of there and start hiking. The journey to Everest Base Camp, however, begins not in Kathmandu, but in a town called Lukla. And one must FLY to Lukla. And the tickets to that plane ride (which were about $300) had to be paid for in CASH. (More on the cash situation later). Nepal is crazy.

Anyway, Kacey and I bought said tickets and the next morning we departed in for Lukla in a plane that looked and sounded like a lawnmower with wings.

More terrifying, however, was the Lukla Airport. If you care to look up "World's Most Dangerous Airports" anywhere on Google, odds are the Lukla Airport will come in on top of that list. No kidding. Try it!



If you look closely you can see a very small runway that ends in a sheer cliff. Right beyond that terrifying drop are a number of mountain ranges. Coming into Lukla one must negotiate these mountains and then drop down onto that tiny runway amid the cloud cover. Taking off from Lukla one must pull up right away in the same clouds to get over the mountains. If any crosswinds are going on at the time this is made far more difficult. It's not really an airport. It's more like a bike ramp that someone happened to land a plane on.

And I should mention that it is only recently that the runway was PAVED! It's fun!!!

We did survive the Lukla Airport, however, and we met up with our guide, Bikash (who Kacey had made arrangements with earlier, as Bikash had guided a friend of Kacey's in a visit to Nepal back in December). Strapping our backpacks with all of our needed belongings to our backs (see picture!), we eagerly set off.

The first day's walk was easy. It was about 3 hours and mostly downhill. I could do this! Easy! That night we stayed in our first guesthouse along the way with a nice Indian tour group (who I originally mistook for a family). One of them was a snake-handler! fun! This was gonna be fun!



Day 2 is where I learned to think very differently. The first 3 hours or so were difficult, but manageable. We were heading up into the mountains but not drastically. After about 3 hours, however we crossed a bridge and the trail shot straight up. For 2 1/2 hours, with 30 pound backpacks on our backs, we walked at what I'm pretty sure was a 90 degree angle straight up into the sun. At least that's what it felt like. And you couldn't stop to take a breath because the trail was so packed with hikers, Yaks and porters. At the angle we were walking at we were all ass to mouth on the trail. It was torture.

There are NO cars, no roads, no vehicles leading up the mountain from Lukla on. The ONLY way up or down those mountains was to walk. And the only ways to get things up or down that mountain is to carry them. By yak or by back. And so, what you see are these porters who have the most GIGANTIC loads on their backs (I've included a picture ) climbing up mountains!! This never ceased to amaze me. Or startle me. One we got to Namche and we saw this incredible town built into the side of a mountain (picture included), I found it all the more remarkable when I realized that everything up there had been CARRIED up there.



Anyway, when we finally reached the Namche we collapsed out of sheer exhaustion and crawled into the first hotel available. Namche was kind of a wonder. It was filled with shops, hotels, a few bars, a movie theatre (kinda), and even internet cafes. Again- everything has to be CARRIED up that mountain. Incredible.



It's mandatory, according to everyone, that you stay in Namche for 2 days for acclimatization purposes. Your body needs some time to get used to the altitude. Bodies do odd things at those heights. People get dizzy. It's hard to breathe. Some people starting feeling sick as early as Namche (we had a long way to go from there) and I even spoke to some people who couldn't go any higher than there. Who knows if it was the height or the food, but this is when terrible things started happening with my stomach. Let's leave it at that for now. Well, for RIGHT now.

Staying at Namche for 2 days let us get to know some of the people we were hiking with better. Kacey and I hired Bikash independent of any group or anything. Most people go through an agency in Kathmandu and hire a guide and a porter. But everyone who leaves at the same time as you is more or less on your schedule, so you get to know people in groups and other individual hikers pretty well.

But this is how I bonded with my first friend- Diarrhea.

On the first night in Namche terrible things started happening to my stomach. I was in and out of the bathroom about 10 times that night. And all of the hotels (called "Guesthouses" or "Tea Houses") along the trail are pretty much the same. A common room to eat in- common bathrooms and a bunch of individual, non-heated rooms to sleep in. So I was in an our of the common bathroom. In fact, for a while I just sat outside it, knowing I'd have to go right back in soon enough. And I kept passing this guy who was clearly having the same issues as me.

The next morning at breakfast he was sitting next to me in the common room. We reunited like long lost brothers. It was so good to know that someone else was struggling too! We happily discussed our bowel movements, and then introduced our groups. ("Kacey, I want you to meet a friend I met while shitting!"). His name was Michael. He was from Germany and was traveling with his girlfriend, Dany. Also in their group was an Australian journalist named Courtney, who had just come to Nepal after investigating and following sex trafficking rings in southeast Asia, (which is different from what I was doing before I came to Nepal).

Also included in our new informal group was an Australian father/Daughter combo named Roy and Amy. Amy had dropped out of University in Australia a few months back and was out exploring the world. Apparently she got a taste of it and her tours through Vietnam, Cambodia, Laos and other countries went on much longer than expected. Roy contacted her and offered to do this hike with her on the condition that she come home with him after. I liked Roy a lot because he had the same growing sense of "What the fuck did I get myself into?"-type fear that I did.

We met a pair named Jen and Thomas, who were both Canadian, but were modeling stars/actors in Thailand (?????). Weirder than that, Jen had started an orphanage in Thailand, and they were traveling with two OTHER girls (from Canada and California) who at the time were something like professional wanderers but met in their journeys and volunteered at Jen's orphanage. Their names here Kat and Hillary and I ran into them again and again and again- including on the bus back from Chitwan at the end of my trip. They were not movie stars in Thailand, however. Bummer.

Finally our group was rounded out by two Dutch guys. One was named Frank, who I termed "The Thoroughbred". Frank was blond, blue eyed, built like a tank and didn't appear to be human. He never tired, never slowed, never needed rest. He taught skiing in the Swiss Alps, and I suspect boulder-throwing as well. Just for kicks.

The funny thing is the OTHER Dutch guy was Daniel, who was the complete opposite. Fussy, sickly, miserable and full of utter despair at all times, Daniel looked like a prisoner who was doing this against his will. I liked him.

It was good to find some other people to talk to and travel with, and within a few days we were ALL discussing our various bowel movements, ailments, disgusting goings-on, etc. It was great. Well all except Frank, who just ate out of his feedbag at the end of each hiking day and went to his stall, and Daniel, who was full of despair and looked out the window with sad eyes like he was in a Jane Austin novel. The rest of us got along famously.

And we needed all the support we could get. Cause after day 2 in Namche our hike REALLY began. We left Namche via a staircase in the middle of town that went straight up into the clouds. I'm not really exaggerating. I think this staircase went straight up for 17 miles. And let me take this time to say this to the Nepali people "STAIRS ARE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE 4 FEET HIGH! IT'S REALLY, REALLY DIFFICULT TO CLIMB STAIRS WHEN YOU NEED TO USE YOUR HANDS AND FEET TO DO SO. AND I'M TALLER THAN ALL OF YOU!! WHAT ARE YOU THINKING!?!??!?!"

ok, thank you.



From that stairway into the clouds we went up and up. The air got thinner and thinner and it was increasingly harder to breath. It also got colder. MUCH colder. Each day we would hike for about 5 hours, then collapse into a teahouse or guest house, and shiver in the common room until they put a fire on (around dinner time), we'd eat Dhal Baat (which was a rice and veggie dish that is everywhere in Nepal), tell some stories, and then go shiver in our sleeping bags until the next day. Some days were excruciating. Hiking uphill for 5 hours every day is hard enough. Doing it in increasingly thin air is harder. Doing it after having diarrhea for 5 days added to the fun. There were days I would step outside in the morning and be winded. I'm not kidding. Actually, this is a list of things that made me winded in high altitude:

1. Getting into bed
2. Blowing my nose
3. Coughing
4. Walking up one or more stairs
5. Drinking water
6. And so on.

But we saw some incredible things. In a town called Tingboche, high in the Himalayas, we came to a Buddhist Monastery that was over 500 years old. We got into the town of Tingboche at about 3PM after a very steep climb that day, at at 4 we heard horns coming from the Monastery.



"The monks are doing monk things!" said Kacey!

They were!



We asked Bikash if it would be ok if we watched the monks do monk things. He assured us that it would be. So we ran over to the monastery (out of breath), ran up the stairs (more out of breath) and went inside. Everyone was sitting all cross-legged on the floor and the monks were chanting. It smelled like shit and feet. Ew. The chant seemed to be circular because I began to recognize parts of it over and over again. And it was punctuated by horns and drums on occasion. We watched silently and reverently for a while and then said "Fuck this" and split.

Monk stuff!!

In another town Bikash and I got into a fight because he wanted to stay at a teahouse different from everyone else, clearly because his choice was run by a friend of his. This town was another place we would have to stay for 2 days to acclimatize, and I put my foot down. It's not that his friends place was just different, it was a shithole. When Bikash got mad at me for not wanting to stay there I said "I've been shitting on my HANDS for a week. I've been filthy and cold and this is my VACATION! I'M STAYING WHERE I WANT!"

Classy!

After 9 days of hiking we finally reached Everest Base Camp.


First of all, let me say this: never in my life have I given a fuck about Mt . Everest, climbing it, looking at it or similar. But for 9 days that's all we talked about. Well, that and shitting. But here I was. In base camp, where people who want to climb to the PEAK of Everest (I'm sorry, I can't use the word "summit" as a verb. It just sounds dirty) wait in tents until: 1. the weather is right and 2. the Sherpas have gone ahead of them, setting the ropes and ladders and bringing all their equipment up.

That's right- when you hear about a westerner who climbs Mt. Everest, know that a team of Sherpas has gone in front of him setting ropes and ladders, pitching tents, cooking food, etc. That's not the way it used to be, obviously, although a Sherpa was with Edmund Hillary when HE reached the top and have always been a part of the expeditions, but that's definitely the way it is now, now that these climbs are big business (It costs about $50,000 to go with a group to the peak of Everest! I am unclear what percentage of that the Sherpas get.)

Just sayin'

But we got there. Some had to practically crawl there, but we all got there. We looked at all the tents, talked to some people who were hoping to make the climb (when we were there nobody had yet attempted, it was early in the season and weather conditions were not right. After we had left a team died attempting to make the climb). And....that was pretty much it. I've included a picture of base camp in the photo album just so you can see the odd little tents.

The next morning was the real emotional peak of the trip, though. The real feeling of accomplishment. Kala Pattar is a peak not far from Base Camp. It's about 18,192 feet at the summit. And we climbed it. Starting at fucking 4 in the MORNING the next day, we set out in the dark, our little head lamps glowing, and hiked to the top. It took over 2 hours and my heart was beating through my ribcage, but I hit the peak just as the sun was breaking through the tops of Everest and the other mountain tops behind me. Pretty great, I have to say.



But then...it was kind of over. And we were just going back to Lukla.

Well, the REST of them were just going back to Lukla!!! Kacey, Frank and I (and our guides) were going to go back the HARD way, over another mountain range and glacier called the Chola Pass.

WHY did I agree to do this? Let's count the reasons:

1. Kacey really wanted to. And I had time. My ticket back to the states wasn't until May 24. This was May 12 or so.

2. Money. Let's discuss my money situation now. I had brought $500 in cash, my credit cards, and a BRAND NEW ATM CARD! My first!!! (Yes, I had never had an ATM card until now). I figured that was plenty. But when we got to Nepal I found out that NOBODY takes credit cards, I had to pay for my flight to Lukla in cash, and my ATM card didn't work anywhere there. In addition to that there was a general strike around the country and most banks were closed. So I couldn't even get cash in advance on credit or anything. So I had NO money there, and no access to money. Except from Kacey. Kacey's ATM WAS working and she had lots of cash.

3. That's about all the reasons I have for going back the hard way over Chola Pass.

So this begins the phase of the trip where I basically cry like a cartoon character for the entire time- with tears flying out of the side of my head and a gigantic snot bubble coming out of my nose as I blubber.

We say goodbye to the rest of our good friends and hiking partners and Kacey, Frank and I (and our guides) head towards the Chola Pass. On a stop in a teahouse along the way I have my first freakout and tell Kacey that I'm going to die within 5 minutes and that I'm going to go back by myself. But we got over that and hiked the rest of the way to the Chola pass, which we were going to conquer the next morning. At 4 fucking o'clock! Again!



The Chola Pass goes like this- you CLIMB up one side (hands and feet), then walk across a glacier, and then climb down the other side. I did ok getting up. I did ok getting across the glacier (Pics attached), but going DOWN I lost all composure, fell on my ass about 30 times, and flung my hiking pole out over the mountain in frustration. (As I watched it fly away I said out loud "Well, that was stupid of me!". Kacey retrieved it).

After Chola Pass I was done. Ready to go back. Finished. And then I heard this: "Let's go on to Gokyo and look at the lakes for a few days and climb..."

Yeah. No.

So I took Kacey aside and told her that I loved her but this was my exit. At this point, however, we were going back a different way. AND all of our friends had a 2 day head start now. If I hoped to catch up with anyone once I found the trail again I had better move.

Kacey gave me her map and some money. Bakish pointed me to a trail (???) that would leave me back. And off I set.

Within an hour I was saying to myself "This is the worst mistake I have ever made. I'm gonna die out here"

I couldn't find any sort of trail. NOTHING was around, and at the moment I was walking through a field of wild yak, any of which could kill me in a moment if they felt like it.

Apparently they didn't.

I pressed on and eventually saw some houses WAAAAY down the mountain from me. But it was the first sign of anything I had seen in hours. So I started walking down the mountain towards the houses. When I became more than a speck, some old man ran out of one of the houses, waiving his arms and telling me in no uncertain terms to go away. I made the pleading pose with my hands, waived my map and continued to approach. He continued to angrily point and waive me away. Remarkably, however, once I got close to him and showed him my map and it clicked with him that I was utterly lost he became extremely helpful. He motioned for me to follow him and he walked me to the other side of the mountain, pointed to a trail, pointed to the corresponding place on my map, and sent me on my way. If it weren't for him I would still be living in Nepal.

I walked back to Lukla by myself for 3 days. I walked about 7-8 hours a day. I was tired and dirty and disgusting. I remembered how easy the first day was because it was all downhill, and cursed it now on my last day coming the opposite direction. JUST as I was about to reach the start of the trail and the town gateway into Lukla someone digging a ditch mistakenly threw a shovel full of dirt, yak shit, and whatever else in my face and all over me. I was angry and bitter at the world when I came through the arch marking the beginning of the trail and ran straight into a group posing arm and arm outside the arch.

"Fucking noobies," I muttered to myself as I pushed by them.

"HEY!" I heard from behind. It was Michael, Dany and Courtney!

I checked into a hotel, had a shower for the first time in forever, and met them for a beer. I booked my flight from Lukla to Kathmandu the next day through our hotel operator (who ALSO managed the airline at the Lukla airport. Not sure if that was frightening or hilarious) and remarkably ran into KACEY later. She and Bikash had left the day after I did and walked 12 hours a day!!! Insane!

We all had a drink that night and watched a terrible Nepali action movie. We were done. We had done it. Thank GOD!

Back in kathmandu I tried to change my ticket to go home, and I think I told everyone how that went. When it became apparent I was going to be staying in Nepal I booked a trip with Kacey to Chitwan State park where we got to go on a safari and ride elephants!!!!!

And THEN our guide told us that if you tip the elephant trainers you can go to the river with them as the elephants bathe. This is what happens: you go into the river with the elephants, they submerge. They play around. They squirt themselves (and you) with their hoses. You climb on their backs. They submerge again and throw you off. It's quite possibly the most fun thing I've ever done. There is nothing that can bring out childlike wonder in you like playing in the water with elephants. It was pretty great.

ELEPHANTS!!!!!!



Kacey went on from there to another state park where she went paragliding and made friends with ex KGB agents. Or something. And I finally went home (where I discovered my stomach virus!).

Before we set off to Chitwan, however, we went to dinner at Bikash's house in Kathmandu. Our fight long over, he had invited Kacey and I and so we got a bottle of wine and met him in front of our hotel and followed him through the winding streets of Kathmandu to a little one room apartment. He and his wife and daughter lived there full time. His cousin was staying with them. His uncle was also staying at the time as well. His brother and HIS kid were in and out. The room was about 12 x 12.

Now I'm writing you about this trip I took that was all sorts of insane to me, but that's Bikash's JOB! He does that all the time! He was leaving to do it yet again the next day, as a matter of fact. The point is that Bikash works harder than anyone I have ever met. And he lives with his extended family in one room. It was another stark reminder of how insanely lucky I am. Every day. Again and again and again.

Dinner was great (although as the guests, Kacey and I were the only ones that ate- which made me very uncomfortable). Bikash's family was wonderful (although his wife seemed to be mute) and it was a great night. The power in Kathmandu went out around 7PM and we finished dinner by candlelight. Then Kacey and I walked the dark, dirty streets back to our hotel where a generator had the lights on and we were able to get a couple of cold, refrigerated beers before going to bed that night. Kacey's ATM worked, after all. And we had money. Like I said.