My Himalayan Trekking Adventure: Deorali Top – If I can make it there, I can make it anywhere

The weight of my pack is too much for me. Ravi has a full load himself. His pack probably weighs 3 times as much as my 10 kg pack. He takes half of my load. We continue on. I am grateful for some short stretches which are relatively flat although the ground itself is uneven and I have to stay alert.

We have just left Phedang. Next, we must climb over Deorali in order to get to Dzongri where we will camp for the night. Some elevations for comparison (from secondary and tertiary sources):

Chicago	176m (579ft)
Delhi	216m (709ft)
Bengaluru	920m (3,020ft)
Yuksom	1,780m (5,840ft)
Phedang	3,650m (12,000ft)
Deorali Top	4,100m (13,500ft)
Goecha La (1st viewpt)	4,600m (15,100ft)
Everest (N) Base Camp	5,150m (16,900ft)

Elevation of 1,500–3,500m (4,900–11,500ft) is considered high altitude. Every little increase in altitude makes it so much more difficult for the body to perform. This is my second day in high altitude. Everyone’s body is different and it may take days for it to adjust to functioning on less oxygen. This little hill will push my limits.

I feel like I am moving in slow motion. I am. Ravi is a few steps ahead of me most of the time. I consider if turning around is an option. No, I am too tired to keep going at all. Up or down. Might as well keep going up. I could die here. We are too far from civilization if I needed urgent care. I have to do this. No one else will do this for me. I am doing this. I am.

And thus the name of my blog: I say I am. Despite what others may say - including my own doubt and fear that I can't, that I won't, or that I'm not - I say I am. I move so slowly. I stop every 2 minutes to catch my breath. Everything is heavy. There is suffocating pressure on my chest. If only I could come out of my body. It's holding me back. 

I have to sit and rest every 20 minutes. Every 10 minutes. I don’t move very far in 10 minutes. When will this awful incline end. It is sandy, stony, grey. Shrubbery here and there. No more trees. I could be on the moon. Ravi is a few steps ahead of me. At my rate, he is a million miles away. He says, come on, let's go. I'm too wiped out to feel the irritation I usually feel when I hear him say, let's go.

I am sitting on a jagged stone. More like leaning against it so that it holds up the weight of my pack. Waiting for my breath to slow down. I look at Ravi. Yeah, I know, I see you. I will move when it's humanly possible for me. But my breath never quite recovers. 2 minutes. I can’t sit here more than 2 minutes. I know what the rush is. The sun is setting. It is dusk. Hard to see now. It will be completely dark before we reach Dzongri. We will have to maneuver our way through the dark. I know this, but I can't move any faster.

I sit on this stone thinking about that Bengali tiger a coworker joked about. I could be eaten alive right now. No, maybe a bear. Ravi says Phedang is known for Himalayan bears. Or maybe a vulture. I look at the sky to see if anything of the sort might have its eye on me. I have absolutely no extra strength at this moment. I can't run. I am barely sitting up. To die by suffocation. Helpless. I can't keep sitting. My breath will not recover quickly enough for this. It will be dark soon. I move.

I reach the top. We have to put our headlamps on. I make a note to myself to bring a more robust lamp next time. We walk silently. Complete darkness surrounds us. The path is level now. I see . . . light. Ravi sees it too. Someone is coming our way. Who is it? It is our cook. He meets us. He was worried about us and has come looking for us. Ravi asks the cook to take my pack from me. He takes it from me and puts it on one shoulder like it’s a feather. I am too drained to have any type of reaction to this.

I am walking. Or am I floating. I could be a ghost. We reach the camp at 6:30 p.m. I see our tents are up. I am so grateful. I climb into the tent, take my boots off, and lie down in a fetal position and rest my head on my pack. Ravi comes by in a few minutes and says you have to eat. What? I am resting now. The cook comes over with dinner. I prop myself up and eat, but I really don't have much of an appetite right now.

I have to take my sleeping bag out. Everything is a chore. Pee. I have to pee. I don’t know these grounds. It is so wide open here. I go straight ahead in the middle of an open field and turn off my headlamp. I return to the tent and fall asleep for a few hours. I have to pee again. I feel a little rested. I unzip the tent and I see a full moon. Wow. So still and silent. I almost don’t need the headlamp. I return to the tent and fall asleep again.

Next: Dzongri – A day of rest.

My Himalayan Trekking Adventure: Ha, and you thought the first day was tough!

I feel the sun rising and I wake up early. I am tired of sliding down all night due to the incline we’re on, and I can’t wait to get out of my sleeping bag. It feels really damp in the tent, too. I put on my boots and go up a hill behind some trees and shrubbery for some privacy. I come down and look at the view.

View from Bakhim toward Yuksom

This is one of the moments I remember very clearly. I am in a different world. It feels sacred. Silent. No cars. No airplanes. Even no people. Everyone is still asleep, except for an owl that was hoo-hoo hooting all night. She is keeping me company. We came this way. Hill after hill after hill. I enjoy this moment so much. The sun feels good, slowly drying the dampness out of me.

Bakhim campground

I see our cook is up and he sees me on the hill. People start to wake and stir. I see Ravi and he sees me and smiles. There are more trekkers who are staying inside the trekkers hut. We camped outside, next to the hut. Now, there is more foot traffic as people look for toilet privacy, that is, a good tree, or shrubbery in my case.

We take our things out of the tents and lay them out to dry. Everything feels damp. We eat breakfast, wash the dishes, pack up, and it’s time to get going again. It is 9:30 a.m. My body feels fine, but I’m not enjoying the weight of the backpack. Up. It’s the only way.

Today will be a long day. Although the distance we cover will be short, just 10km (6mi), we will make significant gains in altitude. From Bakhim (2,750m, 9,022ft), we will trek through Tsokha (2,900m, 9,500ft) through Phedang (3,650m, 12,000ft) over the Deorali Top (4,100m, 13,500ft) to Dzongri (3,950m, 13,000ft).

Tsokha

We make it to Tsokha within a couple of hours. Tsokha used to be a settlement for Tibetan refugees. It is silent and misty. This is the last village on this trek. It is cloudy or perhaps we are in the clouds. We rest at a wooden hut for a few minutes. I take a break from my backpack, have some water, and snack on some biscuits. And before long, it’s time to go again. Up. The village dog follows us for some distance.

Tsokha toward Phedang

Tsokha to Phedang is a longer stretch. It is getting tougher or maybe I am just getting tired. I am sweaty from the effort. Stopping for longer than a couple of minutes gives me a chill though. It is damp and cool. Must keep moving. I move much slower than Ravi. Often, I hear him urge me on very nicely, let’s go. I want to take breaks. Reluctantly, he agrees. The path is rocky and uneven, and, on occasion, very steep. I make a mental note to myself, next time bring only half the things.

Phedang seems so far away. We hear people ahead of us. They are up above. Have we reached Phedang?! No, it is only a clearing where a couple trekkers are taking a short break. We ask them how far to Phedang. We are only halfway there. I want to rest longer, but I know we can’t. I bite my tongue and keep moving.

While I was preparing for the trek, I remember reading about high altitude sickness and how, on the way to Dzongri, a girl got sick and had to descend to lower altitude. This was in the back of my mind all along as I was trekking, and I was continually monitoring myself for any signs: headache, dizziness, nausea and vomiting.

We take another break. Several mules and a couple porters are returning from Phedang. They are coming down the rocky path as we make our way up. One mule stops, and absolutely refuses to move. The porter tries to get the mule to go, but the mule is not having it. The porter says the mule has high altitude sickness. I understand. If it were me, I also would not move. The porter gives up and continues on, leaving the mule behind. These animals know the route inside and out. He will be ok. We must get going.

As we approach Phedang, the rocky, uneven path is so steep. It could be a wall. I am exaggerating, but it is hard work getting there. Slow, careful, and deliberate. I am relying on my walking sticks a lot, which Ravi let me borrow for the duration of the trek. They are a life saver. At last, we reach Phedang. A small trekkers hut is here. It is empty at the moment. Some candy wrappers are left behind, a sign of people who must have left not too long ago.

It is definitely much cooler here. No sun. Damp. I take my pack off.  It feels nice to give my shoulders a break. We have lunch. I am starting to get cold. I try to convince Ravi that we should spend the night here. I feel like I’ve exhausted all my energy reserves. My pack feels like a ton of bricks. No. We can’t stay here. Our gear is on our yaks and they are headed for Dzongri. We have to get going again. It is already mid-afternoon and we are still far from Dzongri. I put my pack on, and in a few steps, I can’t. I tell Ravi, I can’t. It is too heavy. It is my turn to play the mule.

Next: Deorali Top – If I can make it there, I can make it anywhere.