SEPTEMBER 2016: WHAT IS EBC?
I was in Bangalore for an investor meeting, debating over important strategic choices for my game based learning venture, Kitki. Out of nowhere a long time friend, Puli, calls from Dubai and suggests trekking to Everest Base Camp (EBC). "No way! Not a chance!!".
It wasn't an easy decision though. In fact as I realised soon, I wasn't even decisive about it. The random idea of a Himalayan trek started growing into a deep thought and took complete control of my mind for the next two weeks. I could hear my brain screaming 'Not now!' repeatedly. But the heart couldn't care less. The mountains were calling and I had to respond.
It all began with a trip to Kinnaur, deep in Himachal Pradesh at the feet of Himalayas. I had been on several hikes before but this was different. I could just sit there at stare at Kinner Kailash all day long. The rocky terrain and the tall snow capped peak had a profound impact. I knew that was only a beginning back then. My heart heard the mountains calling again. The decision was already made. I had to respond.
Stretch. 10 mins of treadmill. 10 mins of cycling. Stretch. Done for the day! That's it? This is not too bad. I was feeling great. May be I underestimated my fitness. Day 2 and the real training began. Pushups, burpees, jumping jacks, crunches, squats. I never knew one could get cramps in so many places. I could hardly eat. The intensity only increased over time. I knew I saw a twinkle in the coach's eye when I said 'I'm all yours.'
A week to go for the trek and I decided to test my training. Broke into my new, heavy Quechua long trek shoes and went to the Golconda Fort in Hyderabad. Went up and down the long winding, steep stairs 8 times with a 10 kg backpack to try and simulate a 3 hour trek. It wasn't easy. But the test gave me immense confidence that I may be able to complete the trek. Unfortunately, it also gave me a niggle in the left knee. I also ended up catching cold from my wife just before starting. Nevertheless the day has finally come to start and I took off with a mixed bag of emotions.
DECEMBER 2016: THE DAY I CRIED.
We reached Tengboche the previous evening after a 3 hour long, hard climb. I thought that was the toughest of the trek until then. Next morning, I had a big serving of boiled vegetables for breakfast (I used to have roasted potatoes and toast for breakfast earlier but that felt heavy and caused acidity during the trek). It was a cold, foggy morning and as we already experienced, mornings are the worst part of the day. Everything feels cold including your hands, feet, clothes and even the shoes. Gulp your tea before it gets cold, slide on the multiple layers of clothing and rush outdoor to find the sun.
I was the slow one among our band of four (me, Puli, Hari Ranjith, our local guide from Kathmandu and Kancha, our sherpa who carried ~30 kgs of bags and still walked faster than all of us). So I decided to get a head-start and started walking while the others finished their lunch. A few turns around the hill and my companions already overtook me. I continued walking at my own comfortable pace for some more distance. Soon I felt a wave of breeze go past me. As I looked around I was not walking on a thin hillside path anymore. The trail widened as we entered a valley surrounded by high peaks with the mighty Ama Dablam overpowering the others. It was a flat plain land from left to right while we walked straight up towards Dingboche. The terrain has changed too. No more trees. The light brown landscape suddenly turned grey covered sparsely with small and low green and red bushes. No trekker to be seen within a kilometer's radius. Just yaks - most lazily grazing while one or two wondering why I was there. I wasn't lost. I can still see a clear trail ahead of me and with a bit of struggle I could see tiny specks of Puli and Hari walking far (far) ahead.
Time seemed to have slowed down. I wasn't walking in slow-mo but the sense of movement (based on things going past me) was lost due to the vast empty space. For the first time, I didn't feel the rush to catch up with someone. For the first time I felt that I was not part of any race - not just in the trek but even in life. I looked up and the beauty of the twin towers of Ama Dablam on a deep blue sky taught me the true meaning of wonder. Overwhelmed with excitement tears started rolling down my cheeks. In fact I started weeping uncontrollably unable to explain to my logical brain why I was crying in the first place. I felt I belonged there. The tough time spent in deciding to go to EBC, the struggle of a tough training, the hard, long, painful hours of climbing uphills - all efforts paid off in one moment.
The feeling of being one with nature was the true accomplishment of the trek for me. A golden sunset reflection on Everest from atop Kala Patthar or successfully making it to the Everest Base Camp felt good, really good. But nothing compared to what I felt on this day which once again manifested that it is never about the destination. It's the journey that matters. Always!
No number of adjectives or photographs may help to share this experience. I only hope to urge more to put their so called busy lives aside for once and go on a trek such as the one to EBC. It may truly change your outlook on life.
I was in Bangalore for an investor meeting, debating over important strategic choices for my game based learning venture, Kitki. Out of nowhere a long time friend, Puli, calls from Dubai and suggests trekking to Everest Base Camp (EBC). "No way! Not a chance!!".
It wasn't an easy decision though. In fact as I realised soon, I wasn't even decisive about it. The random idea of a Himalayan trek started growing into a deep thought and took complete control of my mind for the next two weeks. I could hear my brain screaming 'Not now!' repeatedly. But the heart couldn't care less. The mountains were calling and I had to respond.
It all began with a trip to Kinnaur, deep in Himachal Pradesh at the feet of Himalayas. I had been on several hikes before but this was different. I could just sit there at stare at Kinner Kailash all day long. The rocky terrain and the tall snow capped peak had a profound impact. I knew that was only a beginning back then. My heart heard the mountains calling again. The decision was already made. I had to respond.
OCTOBER 2016: WILL I BE ABLE TO DO IT?
I am going on a two week long trek with only one month left. I am all yours" I said to my gym coach. I knew I was in no shape for a trek like EBC. Long time since a trek and my sweet tooth took over my diet. Tummy was pushing ahead like an athletes nose crossing the finish line. One look at me and the coach said let's start tomorrow. For some reason I heard it as 'Challenge accepted!'.
I am going on a two week long trek with only one month left. I am all yours" I said to my gym coach. I knew I was in no shape for a trek like EBC. Long time since a trek and my sweet tooth took over my diet. Tummy was pushing ahead like an athletes nose crossing the finish line. One look at me and the coach said let's start tomorrow. For some reason I heard it as 'Challenge accepted!'.
Stretch. 10 mins of treadmill. 10 mins of cycling. Stretch. Done for the day! That's it? This is not too bad. I was feeling great. May be I underestimated my fitness. Day 2 and the real training began. Pushups, burpees, jumping jacks, crunches, squats. I never knew one could get cramps in so many places. I could hardly eat. The intensity only increased over time. I knew I saw a twinkle in the coach's eye when I said 'I'm all yours.'
A week to go for the trek and I decided to test my training. Broke into my new, heavy Quechua long trek shoes and went to the Golconda Fort in Hyderabad. Went up and down the long winding, steep stairs 8 times with a 10 kg backpack to try and simulate a 3 hour trek. It wasn't easy. But the test gave me immense confidence that I may be able to complete the trek. Unfortunately, it also gave me a niggle in the left knee. I also ended up catching cold from my wife just before starting. Nevertheless the day has finally come to start and I took off with a mixed bag of emotions.
DECEMBER 2016: THE DAY I CRIED.
I was half-way through the trek to the Everest Base Camp. About a week since we started and it has already been an exhilarating experience. The ride in a small, rickety aircraft that nonchalantly landed on a tiny strip at the edge of a cliff at Lukla. Crossing a roaring Dudh Kosi via thin, long hanging bridges. Beautiful monasteries, huge prayer wheels, stupas and mani stones with black and white inscriptions. Breathtaking views of snowcapped peaks like Kusum Kangru, Thamserku, Kongde Ri and Ama Dablam.
We reached Tengboche the previous evening after a 3 hour long, hard climb. I thought that was the toughest of the trek until then. Next morning, I had a big serving of boiled vegetables for breakfast (I used to have roasted potatoes and toast for breakfast earlier but that felt heavy and caused acidity during the trek). It was a cold, foggy morning and as we already experienced, mornings are the worst part of the day. Everything feels cold including your hands, feet, clothes and even the shoes. Gulp your tea before it gets cold, slide on the multiple layers of clothing and rush outdoor to find the sun.
Until this day, most of the trek involved climbing long stairs of uneven stones, thin dusty paths skirting the hills intercepted by regular traffic of trekkers, cargo animals like donkeys, mules,and cross-bred yaks and even sherpas carrying heavy loads of wood and gas cylinders.
But this day was different. The initial part of the trek from Tengboche was downhill. The path was flanked by Rhododendron trees covered in strings of Spanish Moss. Creepy yet beautiful with Himalayan Monals in the foreground and snow covered peaks in the background. I wished to wait and photograph the birds but this side of the hill was covered in shade and my feet were desperate for some sun. We moved at a brisk pace and about 30 minutes later started climbing the next hill with the sun on our backs finally. Thanks to the non-oily breakfast, tummy was happy which meant the climb felt a bit more comfortable. Having discovered my comfort food, I had boiled cabbage, carrots and potatoes for lunch as well.
I was the slow one among our band of four (me, Puli, Hari Ranjith, our local guide from Kathmandu and Kancha, our sherpa who carried ~30 kgs of bags and still walked faster than all of us). So I decided to get a head-start and started walking while the others finished their lunch. A few turns around the hill and my companions already overtook me. I continued walking at my own comfortable pace for some more distance. Soon I felt a wave of breeze go past me. As I looked around I was not walking on a thin hillside path anymore. The trail widened as we entered a valley surrounded by high peaks with the mighty Ama Dablam overpowering the others. It was a flat plain land from left to right while we walked straight up towards Dingboche. The terrain has changed too. No more trees. The light brown landscape suddenly turned grey covered sparsely with small and low green and red bushes. No trekker to be seen within a kilometer's radius. Just yaks - most lazily grazing while one or two wondering why I was there. I wasn't lost. I can still see a clear trail ahead of me and with a bit of struggle I could see tiny specks of Puli and Hari walking far (far) ahead.
Time seemed to have slowed down. I wasn't walking in slow-mo but the sense of movement (based on things going past me) was lost due to the vast empty space. For the first time, I didn't feel the rush to catch up with someone. For the first time I felt that I was not part of any race - not just in the trek but even in life. I looked up and the beauty of the twin towers of Ama Dablam on a deep blue sky taught me the true meaning of wonder. Overwhelmed with excitement tears started rolling down my cheeks. In fact I started weeping uncontrollably unable to explain to my logical brain why I was crying in the first place. I felt I belonged there. The tough time spent in deciding to go to EBC, the struggle of a tough training, the hard, long, painful hours of climbing uphills - all efforts paid off in one moment.
The feeling of being one with nature was the true accomplishment of the trek for me. A golden sunset reflection on Everest from atop Kala Patthar or successfully making it to the Everest Base Camp felt good, really good. But nothing compared to what I felt on this day which once again manifested that it is never about the destination. It's the journey that matters. Always!
No number of adjectives or photographs may help to share this experience. I only hope to urge more to put their so called busy lives aside for once and go on a trek such as the one to EBC. It may truly change your outlook on life.
