As we reached the last of the three high passes on our itinerary, the magnificent Renjo La, I expected to feel relief. But instead I felt elated, stoked, humbled and in awe.
When we embarked on this hike more than three weeks ago, the three passes itinerary felt like a slightly ambitious project to tackle in winter. It is rated as a challenging hike due to length, altitude and ascent profile, as it takes you up 3 high passes and 3 « low » peaks, all between 5300 and 5600m, as well as to the Everest Base Camp (EBC). We had read plenty of accounts talking highly of doing it as this season: blue skies, fewer crowds and definitely doable. I couldn’t find any account from a female hiker though, all blogs had been written by male go-getters who seemed equally loving of rough conditions as Tim. Somehow not overly relatable for me (!).
So my confidence in success and my self-confidence was a bit low. As I read in « The Art of Happiness » by the Dalai Lama, fear and lack of confidence are a product of ignorance. In this case, we had no doubt our technical ability, strength and gear were up for the challenge, but this was unknown territory for us and we had no idea how we would react to altitude and tolerate the cold, and if the weather would remain on our side. But I let myself be convinced by Tim’s stubborn optimism and endeavoured to live up to the sticker I stuck on my drink bottle: « Faith over Fear ». I’m glad I did.
Choosing not to fly to Lukla was easy with our commitment to ground travel, and the fact that it is one of the most dangerous airports – or rather airstrips – in the world due to its altitude and mountainous location. Instead, we started walking from Jiri, following in the footsteps (though not quite all the way!!) of Sir Edmund Hillary on the 1953 expedition that led him and Tenzing Norgay to the summit of Mt Everest. This added 6 days of walking, but allowed us to build strength and gain altitude more progressively: we definitely think it set us up well for what was to come.
From Jiri, we walked Eastward towards the valley of the Dudh Kosi river. Walking across valleys rather than up meant that we did A LOT of big ups and downs that week, with big ascents and descents each day. The landscape was bucolic. We walked up mountainsides traced with the curvy pattern of terraces where green wheat was growing. Pretty white houses with blue or green wooden window sills, dried corn cobs hanging from under the roof and big woven baskets full of dried leafs dotted the slopes. Cute goats with very long soft ears, furry cows and smiley humans cheered us along the way. The going was tough at times but the sun was shining and we loved the effort.
The highlight of that week was going up Pikey Peak, a « small » peak at 4060m, with stunning 360°views over the whole Himalayan range. Big snow capped mountains as far as the eye can see. We were ecstatic to have walked up to this altitude for the first time of our life. Interestingly, the landscape up there reminded us of the Australian Alps: low bushes in dark greens and maroon colour, sandy dried grass, and rhododendron trees that looked just like snowgums, with gnarled trunks beaten by the elements and leaves that had a silvery glow in the sunny wind. We felt a bit at home.
That entire week, we saw no, absolutely zero, other trekkers. That did not help my self-confidence and I was wondering if we were the only two silly enough to go up that way at that time?! I was mulling over a lot and my anxiety grew. It was not a very nice mindset to be in. I shared my fears with Tim, we discussed it, and I was eventually reassured that we were on the same page and would not push on if we didn’t feel it was safe, and that we could always backtrack if needed. The night that we reached the main valley going up towards the Everest region, we met another fellow hiker: the lovely Tony, a tall and smiley lab researcher from Canberra about our age. We shared the first of many Dal Bhats together and I further relaxed knowing that someone else was going the same way as us.
From then and for the next week or so, we hiked North instead of East, going up the valleys that lead to the tallest mountains in the world. Our major next step was Namche Bazar, the main hub and departure point towards the high valleys. After a week in very basic teahouses, Tim and I were surprised to see the level of development and comfort provided to trekkers in the valley going up to the EBC. It’s sometimes a bit too much, and I think that trekkers should be able to live without Coca-Cola or Fanta in plastic bottles that are carried up the mountain on the back of porters or mules that look very sad. The fact that this valley is very popular also meant it was a lot cleaner than other areas we’ve walked though: despite the sheer amount of trash produced by trekkers, it seems most of it is collected and disposed of somewhere, somehow, out of sight.
Walking up to Namche (3400m), we were following the turbulent Dudh Kosi river, its bed dotted with rocks looking like giant versions of the pebble stones in Nice. We hiked through pine forests, encountering numerous mule trains and yak trains. After Namche, trees became sparse and rhododendron forests eventually disappeared, as we made our way towards the 4000s. The colour scheme became simple yet magnificent: the bright monochrome blue sky, the towering white peaks, the grey, brown, and gold of the dry and rocky slopes, and the icy blue of the river. We took our time to make our way up the valley leading towards the first pass, gaining altitude progressively and acclimatising well over a few days. Ama Dablam (6812m), with its perfect pyramid peak, was a constant feature of the landscape during that week. The views were stunning and there was something really exciting about getting higher and closer and closer to these mythical mountains.
We finally arrived at Chukkung, were we did a couple of acclimatisation hikes, one to the first of three « small » peaks – Chhukung Ri (5546m), and one to a huge glacial lake that is being dangerously inflated by the melting glaciers around it. And suddenly, it was the day of Kongma La, the first pass, and the one deemed to be the hardest, at 5540m. Our confidence in our ability to do it had grown significantly over the past week: we were feeling strong and had no altitude sickness. The companionship of Tony and a few other hikers, some with guides, was another lovely and reassuring factor, and we left together at the break of dawn to tackle the pass. It was a long way up through a valley tucked beneath towering rock faces. We walked past iced glacial lakes echoing deep ethereal sounds. From the distance, it was hard to see how the f*** we were going to walk up that rocky wall to the pass! But we slowly and steadily made our way up the trail like mountain goats, and ended up reaching the Kongma La, high on endorphins, adrenaline and altitude. We celebrated with our fellow trekkers, cooked noodles, devoured a celebratory snickers and made our way down on the other side. I think this is when the relief popped out – we had achieved the Kongma La, I no longer doubted we could do the whole trek.
The next section of the trail led us across the Khumbu Glacier and up the valley that runs directly below Mt Everest. It was surreal to walk across this glacier – much more like walking through a labyrinth of rocky and gravelly mounds, occasionally glimpsing the ice beneath – and not at all like walking across a plain surface of white or blue ice with visible crevasses. These valley glaciers are covered in rocks and edged by huge moraines, which, when thick enough, insulate glaciers and slow melting. This debris cover builds up in part due to glaciers getting thinner, and moraines they built up in the past collapsing back on them.
At this point in the hike, we met a group of 4 Polish – Martyna, Michal, Greg & Marcin – and Adam, a British Polish and his guide. Together with Tony, this little group became a cheerful travelling community with whom we shared the trails, many stories and numerous Dal Bhats. It felt really nice meeting new people and somehow unsurprisingly, such trails bring together people with many shared interests. We walked up Kala Patthar, a « small » peak at 5644m, the highest point of our hike. It was a hard and steep walk up, but the views over Everest, the Khumbu icefall and the glacier took whatever was left of our breath away. The temperature up there was -28C. After running down a section of the hill, Tim experienced some mild altitude sickness, so he didn’t join us all the way to Everest Base Camp the next day. For me, the highlight of EBC was a gorgeous little pink bird, a Great Rosefinch, chirping away to welcome us. It made me think deeply of Deb and I just couldn’t hold my tears. I felt gratitude and sadness still.
Tim was feeling better so we made our way towards Dzonghla, the starting point of the trail to the next high pass lodged at the end of another valley. We spent Christmas Eve sharing some Polish borscht, fried potatoes with cheese (can’t go wrong!) and even treated ourselves to an apple pie! For Christmas the trail gifted us with a walk on a proper ice glacier this time, leading up to the second pass, Cho La. It was amazing to walk on the deep blue ice of the glacier with our crampons, I felt like a kid. This pass felt comparatively easy, and we had another celebratory snickers, this time at 5420m, before making our way down the other side.
After crossing another huge glacier covered in rock debris, we arrived in Gokyo, a pretty village on the shore of a perfectly turquoise glacial lake surrounded by rocky cliffs and peaks. We climbed up Gokyo Ri (5357m) and were rewarded with 360 views of Everest, Nuptse, Lhotse, Cho Oyu, Cholatse, the turquoise lake, the glacier… it was truly the best view of the entire journey. It deserved yet another celebratory snickers! We felt small and awed. On the way down, we watched the pointy shadows of the rocky peaks creeping up on the turquoise waters of the lake, beautiful and poetic.
And so the next day, we tackled the last pass, Renjo La. It was harder than expected, perhaps we had grown presumptuous to think the third would be easy peasy, but the mountain reminded us to be humble. We had to deserve the third pass, and so we did make our way, slow and steady, up its rocky trail. We relished in the views and the celebratory snickers while sitting at 5345m, sharing this moment with our trail friends and another Great Rosefinch. It was not without emotions that we made our way down, saying goodbye to the expansive vistas of the high mountains. We felt privileged to have been here, aware of the fragility of such imposing but fragile landscapes where average temperatures are increasing twice as fast as the global average. As all the locals told us along the trail: such dry and « warm » conditions are unusual for winter – nice for our hike, not so nice for the environment and locals. We witnessed the after effects of a glacial lake outburst flood (GLOF), the phenomenon where lakes created as glaciers retreat become so big they break through their moraine walls and rush down valleys. Half the picturesque village of Thame was wiped out in August last year by such a flood, farmland is gone, replaced by gaping canyons of erosion. Work is ongoing across the Himalaya to monitor such lakes and reduce their volume where possible, yet people who have contributed essentially nothing to bringing about the climate crisis will continue to suffer its impacts. More motivation for us to find impactful opportunities when we get back to a more normal life!
In the last few days of the hike, we retraced our steps back down the valley, farewelled our new friends, celebrated New Years just the two of us with improvised rum and ginger tea cocktails, and made our way back to Kathmandu.
With around 350km and over 20,000m of elevation gain, and loss, under our belts over the last weeks, we’re welcoming 2025 with hearts full of gratitude for an emotional and adventurous 2024, and for the amazing people in our life. We will embrace this new year with the same adventurous and optimistic outlook, and I have adopted « Faith over Fear » as my new motto! Lots of love to you all, may 2025 bring us together in some ways, and bring you daily delights.
