After spending the past few weeks climbing some of the more technical 14ers, I wanted to take a break and knock out a couple of the walk up ones near Denver. I’d never done Gray’s and Torrey’s peaks, and figured it was a great chance to introduce a few friends to their first experience of hiking at higher altitude.

One really great thing about the front range peaks is that you don’t have to get up obscenely early to make the summit and get home at a reasonable time. We met at my place around 6:30 am, and headed out. We got there too late to get a parking spot in near the trailhead itself, but were early enough to get one not more than a few hundred feet down the road.  The trail was crowded, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as I’d been told it could be.

The weather was looking perfect, and when we finally hit the summit of Gray’s right around noon, there were still no clouds in sight, so we headed over the saddle to Torrey’s. We hit the second summit around 1:45 or so, and then started to head down.

Three of the group and the two dogs headed down the standard route, but I was feeling cocky after hanging out in the Elk Range so I decided I wanted a bigger challenge. I’d read about a class 3 traverse on Kelso Ridge that would come out near the main trail…I figured that it would be fun, and save some time on the main route down. Sarah decided to join me, so we headed off toward the ridge.

Well, the route wasn’t that easy to find. Somehow I got off route very early and ended up descending way too quickly. I’m still not sure exactly how it happened, but we ended up in Dead Dog Couloir. I’m sure this a great snow climb, but for a summer descent it leaves a hell of a lot to be desired. We worked our way down through some tricky down-climbs with lots of loose rock all around. Taking our time, we ended up down on the main trail about an hour later than the folks who’d taken the standard path down…so much for time saving!

Not much father down we came to a Stupa that was dedicated to Tenzing Norgay, the Sherpa who was with Edmund Hillary on the first successful climb of Everest. Soon after, we came around another bend and got our first glimpse of Cho Oyu, the 6th highest peak in the world. This would become a constant companion for the next few days as we followed the valley northward towards Gokyo, and one of those things that really makes you feel like you are some place special.

After about five hours of slow but steady climbing, we finally arrived at the village of Dole. Our guide was pretty impressed with our progress…according to him we were about an hour and a half ahead of the normal time to arrive. I spent the afternoon reading and wandering around. At this altitude the skies were not nearly as hazy, but the afternoons were bringing in clouds that covered the mountains, and the first really chilly weather we’d experienced. All heat in the lodges is produced by burning yak dung in a central stove, and I was very pleased when they finally fired it up and served dinner. It’s veggie fried noodles or fried rice for dinner from pretty much now on, but when you’re hungry it tasted like a real feast!

After coming from sea level to nearly 12,000 feet in less than a week, it was time to stop for a day and let my body adjust to the altitude. Nearly all trekkers stop in Namche for at least two nights; those who don’t have about a 50% chance of needing an expensive helicopter evacuation later on down the road! After yesterday’s uphill slog, the last thing I really wanted to do was to climb up some more, but working out sore muscles is the best thing for them, so it was off to do some exploring around the town.

Our first stop was at the Sagarmatha National Park headquarters where they had a pretty decent museum that talked about the sherpa lifestyle, the flora and fauna of the region, and the geology of how the Himalaya mountains formed. The museum doubles as an army checkpoint, and the helicopter landing pad gave us our first really good view of Mt. Everest and the other high peaks surrounding it.

The museum was only our first stop, and we headed up hill to the Syangboche airstrip, which was in even worse condition than the one in Lukla. There were two or three flights of 6 passenger planes per day in good weather, mostly ferrying rich Japanese tourists to the Everest View hotel where they can stay in rooms that have extra oxygen pumped in so they can mitigate the effects of the high altitude. We hiked up to a lodge near the Everest View where we stopped for tea and the best views yet of Mt. Everest. We hung out there for a while, just absorbing the scenery and taking tons of photographs. Eventually we decided it was time for lunch, so we headed back down to Namche for amazing pizza at a German bakery in town. The rest of the day was spent in happy relaxation and repacking as we got ready to leave the “lowlands” and really head up to the high country.

The next morning started out extremely pleasant, with clear skies and nice cool weather. Ian and I headed out at a nice clip, just lazily letting the miles go by and enjoying the scenery. The trail had a bunch of river crossings, which were made on steel bridges that had been suspended over the river and anchored into the banks with concrete. Impressive construction, and even more so when you consider that every bit of them had to be carried either on the back of a person or a yak. Many of the bridges had been designed and constructed by the Hillary foundation to replace older rope construction that had been washed out during monsoon floods many many times in the past. Modern engineering allowed the newer bridges to be built higher, avoiding this fate, not to mention just being inherently stronger. Crossing the bridges when yaks were around was always a challenge; several times we had to back up and retreat when a fully loaded train of yaks would come through setting the bridge swaying. The bridge floor had been designed to be solid enough to support the hooves, but it also had enough holes to let the worst of the yak dung fall down to the river.

After lunch, the character of the trail started to change pretty significantly. The nice gentle slope up turned into a steep ascent with lots of stone stairs. I found myself struggling more than I would have expected to at this point…being at sea level for so long had completely robbed me of my altitude acclimitazation, and this was the first time where I really felt it. I was amazed at the locals who were carrying 80 pound loads just climbing up the steps like it was flat ground…the adaptations of the Sherpas for altitude is truly amazing!

Eventually we made it up to Namche and found our accommodations for the next two nights. I went out for a wander and checked out the weekly Saturday market. That explained the large number of people and yaks we’d seen on the trail…each Saturday porters come from higher up in the valley to get their weeks supplies, and then head back up again carrying everything that all the guesthouses and locals will need for the coming weeks.

Namche is almost as touristy as Thamel, but twice as expensive. Still, its the last place to really stock up on supplies before heading out, and when you need cold medicine, or a warmer jacket it’s the best place in the world. It’s also the last reasonably priced internet service…at about a dollar for 10 minutes. Dinner was a tasty yak steak, which would be the last meat we’d have for the next two weeks.

After a couple of days in Kathmandu, I was so happy to leave that I  wasn’t even annoyed in the slightest by the 4:30 am wake-up requirement to get to the airport.   Myself, Ian, and Deepak our guide all headed out in a taxi, and I got my first glimpse of how nice the city can be before it really wakes up.  The temples were silent and empty of tourists, with only a few early morning worshipers there to add some real atmosphere.   Unsurprisingly, this didn’t extend to the airport itself which was jammed with trekkers all vying to get on a flight out to Lukla.  There are about four airlines flying the route, and on good weather days, there can be up to 50 daily flights!  This isn’t the absolute peak of high season so we didn’t have to deal with that many people thankfully.  The airport in Lukla is tiny, and the landing strip is usable only by small planes holding about 20 passengers each.  One end of the runway ends at a rock face, and the other is a 2000 foot drop off of a cliff.  Not much room for error, but luckily there hasn’t been a crash since 2008!

The flight into the Solu Kumbu valley is spectacular, with views of Himalayan peaks in all directions, including above the aircraft.  The pilots fly a complicated path into the valley, swooping down between peaks so close that you can see people in villages above you on the mountain.  Landing was interesting, with the pilot slowing down as much as he could, then hitting the brakes as hard as possible before we collided with the cliff face.

We stopped for breakfast at a restaurant just outside the airport where we met our 2nd guide and our porter.  After my first of many servings of scrambled eggs on toast, we started our first days walk towards the town of Phakding.   The overcast day was nice and cool, and as we followed the valley of the Dudh Kosi river.  We got our first looks at village life, and the way that everything is supplied in the valley.  There are absolutely no roads or motorized transport in the Kumbu area, so everything must be carried in by either Yak or human porters.  We’d pause often for yak trains coming down, and would have to huddle against the wall of the trail to avoid being accidentally knocked off into the river below. 

It was a nice easy four hour stroll to Phakding, and when we got there I was still full of energy and eager to keep moving.  I’d noticed a sign pointing to the Pema Chholing monastery high up on the valley face, and got our assistant guide to join me on another couple hours walk.  The trek was rewarding but tough, and the monastery up there was tended by one solitary monk who for a small donation let us in to wander around and take photos.   This was the quiet temple experience I’d been expecting but not finding in Kathmandu, and I was very glad that I took the time to make the extra excursion. 

Dark comes quickly to the valley, and bedtime was beckoning…we’d be up early again tomorrow for our next leg of the journey.

Kathmandu is one of the most surreal places I’ve been yet. 1700 year old statues that any museum or private collector would love to have are just sitting in open temples with absolutely no security. Hindu holy men wander around, trying to bless tourists for donations, Maoist demonstrators are rioting in the streets, and quiet peaceful courtyards are scattered randomly behind ancient doorways that provide a welcome escape from the chaos and pollution outside.  It’s magical!

 I’m staying in Thamel, the tourist ghetto of Kathmandu.  For anyone who’s been to Bangkok, it’s the equivalent of Khao San Road with lots of fake North Face gear for sale, incense sellers on every corner, touts loudly offering Tiger Balm and trekking, and whispered offers of pot and “sexy massages”.  Of course there are also a bunch of shops selling what I’m assuming are fake antiques.  I’ll probably pick a few of those up on the way out…some of them are similar to what you’d see in world market or Pier 1, but at least they’ll have a better story attached to them.

I’ve got about 30 hours here to kill before I start my trek.  I’ve met my hiking guide and the guy I’ll be traveling with. Ian is a Brit/Aussie with an interesting story, and like me, visiting Everest is one of his big lifetime goals.   I’m spending my time just wandering around, absorbing the atmosphere and chaos.  The downside to a chaotic country like Nepal is that there is absolutely no regulation of traffic, fuel standards, safety laws, etc.  The pollution here is so bad that many of the locals walk around with dust masks over their mouths and noses.  There’s no organized garbage collection, so the streets are strewn with filth…most mornings you’ll see individual shopkeepers sweeping the street directly in front of their stall, but within a couple of hours it is hopelessly filthy again.   The poorer citizens will rummage through garbage piles looking for things to sell, but the remainder is left to rot, or to be eaten by the local stray dogs and cows that wander the streets.  Anything left over after that is usually burned in place which just contributes even more to the grey haze over the city.  In the very early morning you can actually see a hint of mountains in the distance, but by 9:00 am the pollution is so bad that they disappear completely. 

There are a couple of temples that I’ll want to visit after the trek, but other than that I can’t wait to get out of this city and into the countryside for some cleaner air!

The third stop on our trip was at Genovesa Island.  This was the longest sail we’d have to do on the trip, and was the worst nights sleep any of us experienced.  Our boat was comfortably sized for the 16 passengers plus crew, however during long open ocean crossings, the engine noise and the rocking made for a challenging night.  Even the icebreakers I’ve spent time on in the Antarctic were much smoother than this! 

Once we arrived it was immediately obvious why this was nicknamed “Bird Island.”  Just on the beach alone there were hundreds of boobies, gulls, frigate-birds, and of course the famous Galapagos finches.  We spent about three hours walking around the beach, probably not more than two kilometers total, but never for a second felt bored.  I was really enjoying myself, playing with all the settings on my camera, getting up close to the birds, and just smelling the salt air.    We went snorkeling again before lunch, and spotted another black tipped reef shark, along with our first Galapagos shark.  Pretty cool!

After a quick trip back to the yacht for lunch, we came out to another landing called “Prince Phillip’s Steps.”  Apparently if you’re a prince, people tend to really be impressed by where you walk.  No one really seemed to take my suggest to rename them to Henry Malmgren’s steps very seriously… 

The steps led to the top of the island, where we spent a couple of hours looking for the rare short eared owl.  The surface of the island was pretty spectacular..it was all old lava flows, and had huge cracks and crevices running everywhere.  The soil was extremely poor, and the vegetation was pretty sparse.  It was surprisingly hot, but we got to see the cooling behavior of the birds as they vibrated their throat pouches to generate a breeze.   We’d just about given up on seeing the owl and were on our way back to the boat when our guide spotted one way off in the distance.  None of us would have ever seen it, and it took my longest lens to even come close to getting a shot. 

That evening after dinner we started sailing back towards our next destination…another mostly sleepless night, punctuated by a bit of excitement as we crossed over the equator.

Our second stop was small islet called Santa Fe off of the larger island of Santa Cruz.  This one was similar in geography to yesterday’s stop, but it had the largest variety of prickly pear cactus I’ve ever seen.  Normally they grow on the ground like shrubs, but these had evolved into tree like plants.  Their only predator on this island are the land iguanas that populate the island, but can’t climb up to reach the high succulent leaves.  Our guide said that the only islands where the cactus grow so tall are the ones that have tortoises and iguanas, both herbivores who treat their leaves as a favorite snack.  This has developed into an evolutionary arms race, where the tortoises evolved longer necks, and the cactus keep getting taller.  Unfortunately all the tortoises on this island were hunted into extinction by the 1800s era sailors, so it appears that the cactus have won this battle…at least until there are sufficient tortoises raised in captivity to repopulate the island!

After lunch we went for our first snorkel of the trip..the water was cool, but with a rented wetsuit pretty tolerable.  It didn’t take long at all before some of the local sea lions came over to investigate the new people who were hanging out.  They’re pretty curious creatures, but easily distracted…they see so many people on a daily basis that they don’t hang out very long.  I guess chasing crabs or relaxing on the beach is a lot more interesting to them than swimming with some pasty white tourists!  A highlight of the diving was our first shark encounter of the trip.  I’ve been fortunate enough to do more than my share of diving in a lot of different oceans, but these were the sharkiest waters I’ve ever been in.  I don’t think there was a day that we didn’t see a shark of one kind or another.

The final activity of the evening was going for a panga ride in a mangrove swamp.  It was pretty close to dusk, and we were on the lookout for sea turtles.  I figured we’d see a couple of individuals…never in my wildest dreams did I imagine that we’d stumble upon a turtle orgy of bacchanalian proportions!   We’d apparently come during the hight of mating season, and the turtles were going at it everywhere we looked.  It was crazy…one on one, three on one, we even saw one poor female trying to get away from five very determined males who were chasing her like she was this year’s Sports Illustrated cover girl!

The first stop on the Galapagos trip was a small little island just off the coast of Isla Santa Cruz.  It’s not the most spectacular island, but for a group of tourists who are very eager to get their first wildlife experience, it is in just about the perfect location.  After leaving the harbor, it took about 20 minutes of sailing to get there, and then it was off to the beach.

The name literally translates to “Wolf Island”, but our guide kept calling it Sea Lion Island.  Whatever the real translation was, there were plenty of sea lions to be found.  It is also a nesting site for the Blue Footed Booby, and the frigate-bird.  I’m really glad that we stopped here, as this was the only place during the entire week that we’d see Frigate-birds displaying their inflated red pouches.  Apparently we’d just missed prime breeding time, and we were very fortunate to see the last poor unchosen males still desperately trying to find a mate.

After months of sitting in the same location in Victory Base, I finally had the opportunity to get out of the office, and make a brief trip to the International Zone in the center of Baghdad.  The IZ was once the main hub of the US occupational government, but has been slowly turned back over to the Iraqi’s.  There are two FOB (Forward Operating Bases) still over there, and to get between them you have to drive in an unarmored truck on roads whose legal status can be described as “murky” at best.

Seeing the sights was a nice break..we ended up at most of the “tourist” places…Assassian’s gate, the Hands of Victory monument, the roof of the former Republican Guard palace.  Lots of fun, and on the way back home to Camp Victory, we got caught in the first thunderstorm of the season…very cool…at least till I found out about the mud!