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.

Everest Base Camp Trek - Day 4: Pangboche and the Start of Altitude Sickness 8:21 PM

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

The wonderful view from my room at the Kyanjuma teahouse

Day 4: June 1, 2013

Woke up early the next day, sleepily making my way in the semi-darkness to the toilet.  There was no opportunity to take a bath, so I had to make do with wet wipes. For someone who loves taking a shower twice a day, being forced to go without a bath for several times on this trek was a reality I had to struggle with. I think I shed a tear or two that morning as I cleaned myself from head to toe with baby wipes.

Even brushing my teeth was a challenge, because it hurt to rinse using ice cold water. Oh, the perils of this trek.

We were on the trail by 8:30 am, right after breakfast. Fog, fog everywhere. No views of the mountains to be had that day, and it rained at times.  The path that morning was mostly descent, which was frustrating. The way from Everest Base Camp back to Lukla is the same way that one has just taken; you just do the trail in reverse. There are no shortcuts, no lovely cable cars to bring you back to civilization in a jiffy. Everything is done on foot. So any continuous downhills that I would encounter on the trek didn't feel like progress or a 'treat' for me, because I knew I would have to encounter these as uphills on the way back.

There we were, going down, down, down--all the way to the river bed. And then we had to go all the way back up at some point. We were doing some serious ups and downs on the hills. It was sheer madness. Who designed this blasted trail, I wanted to scream out.

Twenty-one-year-old Dhan Kumar was just pure Sherpa strength, hardly breaking his pace as he went way up ahead with my duffel bag. What a Legolas. I wanted to beg him to carry me on his back all the way up to Base Camp. But all I could do was sigh and trudge up the never-ending path to nowhere. Madan stayed with me, of course, and we kept each other company by telling stories and jokes. At least at this altitude, even with the crazy ups and downs, we could still afford to talk and laugh. On Days 7 and 8, the mere act of talking while dealing with the thin air and the rocky terrain became too exhausting to do.

Lunch stop was Tengboche, which was at an elevation of 3,867 meters (12,684 feet). It was cold and foggy; the temperature was about 5 degrees Celsius. Five degrees in a city like New York would be okay for me; five degrees up in the mountains felt like a different story altogether. Stood inside the teahouse's dining hall, shivering in spite of my three layers of clothing, a wool hat and fleece gloves. Even hot chocolate wasn't enough to keep me warm, and it was too early in the day to fuel the yak stove.

When we left Tengboche after lunch, we were laughing nervously because it was getting foggier by the minute, and it had started to rain again. As usual, the mud was a huge deterrent to our progress, and what should have been a 2-hour trek from Tengboche to Pangboche became a 4-hour one.

A dull, throbbing pain in my head was making its presence more and more felt as the minutes, hours ticked by. I suddenly felt so fatigued; it was the strangest feeling. I knew then that I was already in the minor stages of altitude sickness. Madan was watching me closely the whole time, probably looking out for other symptoms. He even drew a line in the mud and asked me if I could walk straight on it. God, I felt I was taking a sobriety test for drunk driving.

Fortunately, I managed to walk straight (and even crack a joke in the process), which was a relief to my guide.  When the two of us were around an hour's walk away from Pangboche, I was so happy to see Dhan Kumar come back for us on the trail.  He insisted on relieving me of my day pack and carrying it the rest of the way to Pangboche. (Yes, he is so fast on the trail, he can zip back and forth like The Flash. Who are these Sherpas and why are they so superhuman.)

At last we reached Pangboche (elevation: 3,930 meters / 12,890 feet), as dusk was setting in. I practically cried for joy when I saw there was electricity at the teahouse. (This homey teahouse would end up to be one of my favorites in the entire trek.) Sat down in one corner of the dining hall, trying to withstand the headache that was slowly draining my ability to think and speak. It even hurt to turn my head from side to side.

Dinner was vegetable momos (dumplings) and a small bowl of garlic soup. I could only down half of the soup and two pieces of momos. My appetite was shot--yet another sign that the altitude was affecting me. By this time, Madan had ordered me to take Diamox for the altitude sickness, and I was happy to oblige. He was talking to me quietly, but his words were stern. He was saying things like, "How are you now? How bad is the headache? Do not lie to me. If you're still feeling bad tomorrow morning, we will descend.  I will update Naba on your condition." He even gave his and Dhan Kumar's room number so that I could wake them up in case I was feeling really sick in the middle of the night.

I didn't even have the energy to laugh when he asked me to rate my headache: was it a 'small', 'medium' or a big headache? I wanted to say pain is relative, but I could only nod in agreement to his instructions and mumble, "Medium headache." Rain, mud, steep switchbacks, and yes, even jokepes had now paled in comparison to the all-too-real threat of high altitude--the effects of which are greater and more dangerous than most people realize.

It was a quiet evening as I sat there, listlessly looking at the books on my Kindle, too tired to even read. I wasn't ready to sleep yet, because I wanted to get a feel of how my body would react to Diamox while I was awake. There were two other female trekkers in the dining hall, reading on their own Kindles.

Suddenly, there was a ruckus in the kitchen where the family members who owned the teahouse were gathered. A fight had broken out between two brothers, and we could hear punching, shouting and some banging of kitchen pots. The boys' parents and a few other people started intervening, and we heard more shouting going on. The three of us trekkers could only sit, gawk and try to decipher what they were all saying to one another. The youngest girl in the family strode out of the kitchen, looking upset.

Some fifteen minutes later, the two brothers who had fought actually sat near us by the yak stove and conversed with me and Madan like nothing had happened.

There is never a dull day on this trek. Never.

I had realized that day that even the hassle of dealing with altitude sickness did not stop me from falling in love with Nepal and all it had to offer: the unpredictability of the trail, the genuine warmth of the people around me, and the beauty and sheer power of Mother Nature that I was to behold each day on the trek.

Bedtime was 10:00 pm and I slept like the dead--only to wake up at 3:00 am with an incredible urge to pee. Diamox is a diuretic, and I was shivering in the cold as I hurriedly bundled up and rushed to the common toilet to pee like crazy. Blessedly enough, the headache was gone by that time, and I was able to sleep right away when I went back to bed.

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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.