These things aren't meant to be easy, I kept telling myself as my luck ran out up Mount Everest. It at least held up for the landing at Lulka, possibly the most ludicrous airport in the World, with a short length of tarmac pasted onto the mountain as a sort of "impact strip". Shortly afterwards though, and after 2.5 months of eating Neplai food without a single problem, I got food poisoning. For the next 2 days I crawled up the valley almost on my knees as, unable to keep any food down, the energy drained from my body and I became rather dehydrated. Fortunately, by Day 4 in Namche Bazaar, I could at least stomach food again and promptly began shovelling as much rice, sugar and water down my throat as I could. It did the trick and as we climbed higher, my strength started to return.
As we continued our Yak dodging ascent, Everest and Lhotse loomed ever larger, and after enjoying a ceremony in Tengboche Monastary, we prepared for the next day's trek above 4000m. As we strolled into the lodge, I came across agroup of "mature" trekking ladies, struggling to teach their guides a song. "We all seem to know a few words to this song" they told me, "but we can't quite think what it is. It's a bit before your time, but we don't suppose you know it perhaps? By some chap called Denver we think..." Pretty soon of course, as Mt Everest sank into the darkness, another small corner of Nepal echoed to the immortal words of the great man again.
Next day we pressed on, with temperatures dropping and blizzards increasing. It seems we reserved whatever luck we had left for the weather though, as it cleared again and blue skies pointed the way upwards. I sat back at the end of Day 7 wondering if my illness would affect me as we climbed higher. Several trekkers had already succumbed and we were now at 4800m, then suddenly it hit me. Not altitude sickness of course, but the hefty load of a clumsy porter as he dropped it on the back of my head. In a moment of rare carelessness, I had taken my multicoloured safety hat off so this hurt, a lot. With a 4 day headache and constant neck pain then, I'm not sure if I ever suffered from altitude sickness or not, but we persevered nonetheless.
We reached Everest Base Camp at 5300m, and the next morning I donned my multicoloured safety hat, picked up my big stick, and made the final push up to the highlight of the trek - Kala Patthar at 5550m, about 18300ft. Cold air but blue skies provided a perfect backdrop to Mt Everest as my luck returned and I gazed out at the top of the world, an unobstructed view across to the summit, and back down the Khumbu Valley.
Success then, and all that was left was to retrace our steps back down the valley, until Mansing, my ever reliable guide suggested another "walk" on our spare day. Without checking the map, I carelessly agreed and spent most of the next morning regretting my enthusiasm as I dragged my tiring legs and gasping lungs over 19000ft to the summit of Chukhung Peak, almost 1000ft higher than the supposed high point of the trek. Fortunately, I was still able to focus and we were rewarded with a complete absence of other trekkers, and spectacular views of Lhotse, Makalu and Cho Oyu, all huge 8000m peaks towering above the Khumbu Valley far below.
Finally, and long after my clean clothes had run out, we did indeed descend back down to Lukla where I promptly ordered a bottle of Nepali Khukri Rum. Unfortunately I could find no-one to share in my celebrations, but at least I slept well, and another small corner of Nepal learnt a little something about John Denver...
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