Everest Base Camp Trek - Day 7: Dugla Pass and the Trek to Lobuche 11:45 PM

To read all posts on my Everest Base Camp trek, click here for the complete series.

The beautiful paths situated between Dingboche and Lobuche. My guide Madan is the blue figure on the right.

Day 7: June 4, 2013

I decided to start the day right with a bucket shower.

I don't know about other trekkers, but I would not have been able to survive the whole 12 days without a single bath.  I am simply not programmed to give up any precious opportunity to have a shower. During this trek, I've been lucky so far to be staying in teahouses where the common toilets are situated inside, and not in outhouses that would require you to run out into the brutally cold night with headlamps on to answer the call of nature. (This also has a lot to do with how good your trek agency is in reserving teahouse rooms for you, and I feel lucky that Himalayan Planet Adventures always made sure I had a good bed and decent toilet waiting for me at the end of each trekking day.) And I was also able to shower 8 out of the 12 days on the trail, which ain't pretty bad!

A bucket shower, I was to learn, is different from a gas shower--the latter being quite a luxury and practically non-existent this high up on the trail. The bucket shower, while very basic, has its charms.

The amazing bucket shower -- Nepali-style

My bucket shower at the Dingboche teahouse consists of this contraption: a huge water drum on top of the teahouse roof with a hose connecting it to a shower head inside the common bathroom. Someone from the teahouse heats up water from the yak stove, carries the hot water buckets up to the roof, and fills up the water drum. All I need to do is switch on a valve inside the shower room and there you have it--hot water flowing from the water drum and right out of the shower head. It's really and truly a bucket shower! Quite ingenious and worth the price of 500 Nepalese rupees (USD 5-6). The rest of the world--especially in areas with no running water--stand to learn a lot from the Nepalis.  I simply had to tell my UNICEF colleagues in the Water, Sanitation and Hygiene Section back in Manila about the bucket shower.

I breakfasted on milk porridge (otherwise known as oatmeal!) and hot chocolate that day.  For the next few days until I returned to Kathmandu, I could not stomach anything else in the morning except oatmeal and hot chocolate. And I could never, ever finish my breakfast. Madan, ever the watchful guide, had this sort of disapproving look on his face every time I pushed away my bowl of barely eaten milk porridge; he would remind me that I needed energy to keep me going through the trek. What could I do, my appetite has failed me, I'd always say. I could only manage, at best, a few spoonfuls of oatmeal and a small cup of hot chocolate.

I had also gone without coffee for days, which was difficult and mind-blowing for a coffee addict like me.  I had to actually stop drinking coffee around Day 3 because it was contributing to the palpitations I was already feeling high up on the trail. High altitude + coffee is a disaster waiting to happen.

We left Dingboche at 9:00 am, and even with the cold and mist, it was still a pleasant walking experience. The road to Thukla, our lunch stop, involved a green hilly landscape that eased my trek-weary state a little. But even with the easy rolling path, I had to stop walking every 10 minutes or so to catch my breath. The air was getting too thin for comfort.

Five minutes away from Thukla, we had to cross this horribly makeshift bridge of uneven rocks right above the river. Some parts were rocks, a short stretch involved thin rickety planks, and then there was some wire wrapped around the rocks to keep these steady and from eroding. Trip on those wires and you might end up falling into the river.

I wasn't able to take a photo of this bridge because I was, uh, busy keeping my balance and trying not to scream in terror. I've borrowed a photo of this Thukla bridge from another blog just to give you folks an idea of what the bridge looked like. (It really looks scarier in real life, to be honest.). Special thanks to Kwok Yeen Cheah of Outdoors Malaysia, who also writes about his Everest Base Camp experience.

Bridge at Thukla. Photo Credit: Kwok Yeen Cheah, Outdoors Malaysia (2012)

I thought the bridge was going to be the highlight of Day 7, but the Himalayas had more in store for me apparently. After lunch, I went through what I felt was one of the toughest uphills I've ever encountered. It was the same brand of misery I felt on Day 2, and the climb to the top of the hill is something I can't forget.

I was stopping every two minutes during that climb to gasp and breathe in lungfuls of air. It didn't help that my nose was terribly clogged and it hurt to blow my nose all the time. The difficulty of that afternoon's walk had nothing to do with the terrain, which looked like your typical rocky hill with some steep inclines. But the altitude level had gotten so bad that no matter how I tried to fill up my lungs, I realized to my dismay that not much air was flowing in. And I had actually thought that the air back in Dingboche was already thin to begin with.

The cold and the thin air left me numb. I was on auto pilot, dragging my feet up the hill and regulating my breathing as best as I could. It reached the point where I was solely, desperately focusing on breathing in, breathing out while my arms and legs went through the automated motions of working the trekking poles and climbing up the path. Nothing else mattered to me except the sound of my attempts to breathe evenly. I thought about all those hours I spent in the 40-degree heated bikram yoga studio back in Manila, doing all those breathing sessions--and I fervently thanked all my yoga instructors then and there for teaching me how to breathe properly.

Dhan Kumar had gone way ahead and I was to see him later after a few hours. I asked Madan to stay in front of me, as always, because I relied on him to show me the path amidst the fog that was enveloping us on all sides on that hill. Because there was no energy left for talking during that excruciating climb that took more than an hour, I just concentrated on breathing.  When I stopped along the path to take a break and blow my nose, I would allow myself the most banal of thoughts, like if something bad happened to me, I'd probably never find out how Holmes cheated death in his fall in Sherlock's Season 2. I also wondered, fleetingly, how the rest of the world was reacting, now that HBO's Game of Thrones had just aired the Red Wedding episode a few days ago--and if it was as graphic as the scene in the novel.

When I finally made it to the top, Madan was waiting for me by this long rock ledge that was momentarily blocking out most of the wind. I gladly sat down beside him to take in more breaths of air (which was barely there) and take stock of my surroundings.  What I saw sent a little chill to my heart.

At Dugla Pass, a place full of memorials for those who died on Everest

There, on top of that hill, in the swirling mist, was a graveyard of sorts. The place is called Dugla Pass, and it was where many of the memorials are placed in honor of those who summitted Everest and died shortly thereafter. It was depressing to wander about and read the epitaphs--sobering reminders of how deadly and treacherous Mount Everest can be.

One of the many memorials at Dugla Pass

It was only 3:00 pm, yet the fog and dark sky that day made us feel that we needed to hurry along and reach Lobuche as soon as possible. Mercifully enough, the next one and a half hours was spent on a rocky, yet relatively flat expanse of land. Dhan Kumar, always with a boyish smile on his face regardless of the weather and surroundings, came back for us and took my day pack even though I was not having a hard time with it. In fact, anything after that climb up to Dugla Pass felt like a breeze.

As we neared the little town of Lobuche, I was treated to wonderful views of Mounts Nuptse, Kangtega and Thamserku--beautiful and majestic mountains in their own right yet sadly dwarfed by the ever popular Everest.  I said a little prayer of thanks for getting through yet another challenging day.  And no matter how hard a day's trek would be, the sight of the Himalayan mountains always thrilled me to the core.

We arrived in Lobuche (elevation: 4,928 meters / 16,164 feet) at 4:30 pm, with enough time to rest, eat dinner, and prepare for the big day tomorrow--Everest Base Camp on my 33rd birthday.

Yes, this small settlement is the entire area of Lobuche already. Elevation: 4,928 m / 16,164 ft.

My view from my room at the Lobuche teahouse

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If you want the same Everest Base Camp trek experience I had, visit Himalayan Planet Adventures and go for the 16-day Everest Base Camp trek package.

Everest Base Camp Trek - Days 5-6: Acclimatizing in Dingboche 8:42 PM

To read all posts on my Everest Base Camp trek, click here for the complete series.

O Little Town of Dingboche - Photo by Gina Sales, 2013

Day 5: June 2, 2013

Today did not turn out to be so difficult as I had expected. Or perhaps, by the fifth day on the trail, I may have had become trek-hardened already.

Whatever. As if.

The 'medium' headache was completely gone that morning, and I happily breakfasted on hot chocolate and apple pancakes--which I still could not finish. (I swear, people who want to lose weight may seriously consider climbing the Himalayas; one can barely eat anything at such high altitude.)

I had also taken a gas shower early that morning at the Pangboche teahouse, so I was feeling squeaky clean and chipper.  Gas shower, when I first heard about it, sounded like something really awful (think Holocaust!) but it's just the casual term that Nepalis use when referring to an LPG tank-powered water heater connected to a shower head.  For the price of 300 Nepalese rupees, or around 3 US dollars, a gas shower at a temperature of around 40-42 degrees Celsius in such cold weather was marvelous.

As I ate, I was on the phone with Naba, who wanted an update on my condition; he was glad to know that I was doing much better compared to last night. However, since I was heading for Dingboche that day, it meant I would be going past the 4,000-meter elevation mark. Naba was advising me to be more and more attuned to my body's response to the high altitude and to take greater precautions. After all, reaching 4,000 meters and above (13,123 ft+) was no laughing matter anymore.

The scenic trail from Pangboche to Dingboche. Dhan Kumar ahead, as always.

The three of us walked at a good pace, starting at 8:30 am. The first two hours of the trek were pure sunshine and good wind. The itinerary indicated it would be a 4 to 5-hour trek from Pangboche to Dingboche. Days 5 and 6 would be my favorites in the trek simply because of the good weather and the fact that I was feeling a whole lot better, thanks to Diamox.

Sure, Diamox made me pee like crazy, and it caused a bit of numbness on the toes and tingling sensations at the tips of my fingers. Those were the expected side effects anyway. But anything that made me sleep well at night and helped improve my breathing pattern in order to adjust well to the altitude was certainly welcome. I was deathly afraid of getting those headaches again.

The road to Dingboche is a good one--not too hard yet not that entirely easy as well.  Struggled a bit with the altitude but at least it was not a huge problem for me that day.  We reached Dingboche (elevation: 4,358 meters / 14,295 feet) at 1:00 pm, just less than 5 hours of walking, as promised by the itinerary and just in time for lunch.

Dingboche is a lovely little farming village settlement with rolling grasslands as well as stone walls separating crops like barley and potatoes. A white stupa with a bright yellow top and a big bungalow with the words 'French Bakery' charmingly written on its roof were the first ones to greet me. I felt at home in Dingboche right away.

Arriving at Dingboche. Home sweet home for the next one and a half  days.

Lunch was macaroni with garlic and creamy yak cheese. These Sherpas sure know how to cook. The rest of the afternoon was spent trying to stay awake.  The teahouse was quiet, with very few guests in it. I met there three French Canadians traveling together and a solo trekker from China. I chatted with them a bit and found out that they had been in Dingboche for two days now and would all be heading up to Lobuche the next day. I, on the other hand, had to stay behind and complete the required acclimatization or 'rest' day in Dingboche.

To while away the time, I started reading Jon Krakauer's Into Thin Air, which is probably what every trekker has inside his or her day pack while on the Everest Base Camp trail. It is a gripping autobiographical account of the disastrous 1996 Everest summit expedition. The book is sure to make you feel that your base camp trek problems are much smaller compared to what that expedition group faced at the summit.

Played cards with Madan and Dhan Kumar as usual, until it was lights out for us at 9:00 pm.  Because the teahouse was solar-powered, the use of electricity was limited in the evenings, and we had to manage with our headlamps on at night while in our rooms or on the way to the toilet.


Day 6: June 3, 2013

Woke up at 5:30 am, disoriented. For a moment, I thought I was back home in Manila.

Today promised to be an easy day because I would just be resting at Dingboche. But 'resting' is such a misnomer in the Himalayas. There is no such thing as a real rest day. I still had to peel myself off the bed, get out of my clean sleepwear, and don the same dirty hiking pants that I'd been using since Day 1. And let's not forget the morning cleansing ritual via wet wipes, shall we.

Rest Day on the Everest trek actually meant 'Get Out of the Cozy Teahouse and Acclimatize by Climbing Some Difficult Hill' Day.

The road up the said steep hill was actually right outside our teahouse in Dingboche. Since it was just a short half-day trek (2 hours going all the way up, and 30 minutes going down), there was no need for Dhan Kumar to join. At least he could stay in his own warm bed and have a true blue, honest-to-goodness rest day, while I had to suck it up and hit the trail at 9 o'clock that morning.

Waiting for Ama Dablam (6,812 meters) to reveal herself

The uphill trek wasn't actually that bad; Madan and I talked a lot in between catching our breaths. Talking really helped pass the time, especially since steady uphills can be such total drudgery. As I headed up, I had glorious views of the hills and the river cutting through the valley. I could see Mt. Thamserku (6,608 meters) in the distance and sneak previews of the greater Mt. Ama Dablam (6,812 meters), barely seen behind thick, passing clouds.

Although it was just a short trek, I could feel the thinning air and stopped to take a break once in a while, which is what every sensible trekker should do.  We were roughly at an elevation of 4,500 meters, I suppose, by the time we reached the top of the hill at 11:00 am.

Prayer flags flapped in the strong wind as I plopped down on a rock to guzzle down the contents of my water bottle. We snacked on chocolate biscuits and took turns watching for Ama Dablam to appear, as she remained hidden behind the clouds.

And then I gasped and pointed behind Madan, and he turned to look. The clouds had finally parted, and there was Ama Dablam herself in her full glory.

The majestic Ama Dablam, one of the Himalayan greats

My face was smarting from the cold and wind, but I was happy to be where I was at that point in time. For a moment, all my worries and fatigue melted away, and I just soaked in the experience of being brought face to face with one of the most striking mountains in the world.

We spent about 30 minutes at the top of the hill, taking photos and enjoying the good weather. It was a halcyon day, a great day--one of the brightest spots in my challenging 12-day trek. And it was exactly the kind of day I needed to inspire me to persevere. I knew I needed all the motivation I could get to make it through the next two days, which were the most crucial.

I was in good spirits when we returned to our teahouse in Dingboche by lunch time. Good weather, good trek, and zero signs of altitude sickness. That evening though, I could really feel the thin air. Tried hard to breath in as much as I could. My nose was stuffed due to a cold that wouldn't go away, and every time I blew my nose, there was some blood mixed with the snot (sorry, too much information).

But other than that, I was feeling good and strong enough, as my body was indeed reacting well to the daily medication of 250 mg of Diamox. Sleep came easy enough that night.

The great Ama Dablam and wee, hobbit-y me

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If you want the same Everest Base Camp trek experience I had, visit Himalayan Planet Adventures and go for the 16-day Everest Base Camp trek package.