Hiking up The Everest Base Camp

How does your body react to altitudes that are thirty to forty times a Bukit Timah Hill’s? It screams at you with the worst headaches you will ever experience. Some nights, they get so bad that not even popping four Panadol (and ActiFast at that) can lighten the throb in your head.

So you learn. You learn that prevention is better than cure. You learn from your peers to pop one tablet every four hours and wonder how many years of medical detoxification you will need before the tablets make their way out of your body.

First-aid talks aside, you also come to reliaze that, while your body reacts to the harsh Himalayan environment as quickly as its winds blow, you can cheat it into believing that are you taking a descent, when the opposite is the truth. Acclimatization days are the BEST because apparently, if you put your body at an elevation level just a few hundred metres higher in the day, make a descent and then go to bed at lower altitudes, the headaches, unfortunately, don’t stop, but at least you finally get to sleep an acceptable 5-hour cycle, instead of the usual two. We knew we would never be well-prepared for this 12-day trek, not especially when we found out we had forgotten to pack along, of all things, toilet rolls! Not even two weeks of shopping and packing sufficed!

The Himalayas welcomed us with its breathtaking views of rustic villages and snow-capped peaks as our 27-minute flight headed for the world’s most dangerous airport, Luka Airport. For the first three days, we were constantly awed by the lush greenery and torquioise waters. Occassionally, we crossed these gushing waters over metal bridges that hang 20-30 metres above. I swear crossing those bridges were the scariest things on the trek.

I reckon the amazing views we got at the beginning of the trek was a trap meant to lure us to venture further. As we inched closer to the base camp, the missing sight of cow/donkey/yak dungs indicated one thing - not even a hairy-ass yak can survive such harsh weathers. Barren lands, killer glaciers, unforgiving temperatures. What wildlife replaced the unfriendly donkeys that shoved me out of their way when I unintentionally stood in their way? Humoungous crows that are the size of our local, extremely well fed, cats and caw like puppies more than anything else. No joke. Everyone you see in the common areas started to don the same expression - cold, tired and sleep-deprived. For the lack of a better word, shitty.

On the eighth day, we woke up at 4.50am, ready for the ultimatum. We were told the summit push would constitute for the longest day, where a 9-hour hike across 16 kilometres awaited. Breakfast was again, uninspiring. Despite your best efforts, at 4,800m above sea level, you can’t really stomach anything. Subsequently, forcing energy gel down my throat was the only thing I could best do to counter the fatigue that was increasingly pulling me down.

By mid-noon, we made it to the Everest Base Camp at 5,384m. As adrenaline rush faded, I felt my knees weaken. For fifteen minutes, I couldn’t get myself to stand up. Surrounded by the vast Himalayan peaks and the world’s longest glacier, all that went through my mind was HOW and WHY did I get myself here? 鬼地方一个。(Horrible, horrible place.) Cold, dry and avalanche aplenty. Our guide, Deepak was probably more pleased than I was.

It was almost the end as the descent took a speedy three days! There has to be a serious distance-elevation ratio imbalance when you take eight days to ascend and three to descend. By the end of our second descent, I literally had five plasters on my feet to numb the blisters. Even on the last day, the hike was a slow and painful 19km (or 8 hours) hike. 还真是走到吐！(Nauseating!)

The 12-day hike was amazing in the sense that everyday was a mental war against oneself. 

“Do I get up after three freezing, sleep-deprived nights?”

“Should I pop four Panadol tablets to kill the headache or should I try getting used to this daily torture?”

“How do I force myself to eat so that I can go on?”

But our only option? To get our asses out there in the cold! The sun would eventually shine and its heat radiate.

Would I do this again? Despite my rants, I have a nagging feeling that, just six months down the road, if I receive another FB event invite knocking on my door, I’d still be the first idiot to sign up (and of course dragging my usual victim to suffer with me).