Ants in a sugar bowl

Trekking “Everest Base Camp + Gokyo Lakes” Nepal, November 2013.

Information that you can put into practice awaits you at the very end of the text. So if you want to know something useful about the Everest Base Camp Trek, it’s best to skip straight to the “Really Useful Information” section.
Below I will try to show the road to the base camp of the highest mountain in the world, as I saw, heard, felt and walked it. Make yourself comfortable, we're diving in.

Optional personal part

Flying to Kathmandu via Delhi is much more pleasant than flying via Sharjah. Indira Gandhi Airport is smaller, cleaner, and the flow of passengers is weaker. But otherwise everything is the same - a lot of staff, a lot of uncertainty about what to do next and how long to wait. We miss you together with a group of Czech tourists. There is nothing to do except lie on the backpacks, read or eat.

Or watch what is happening.

Here is an extremely pleasant American couple. In the 1980-1990s, they lived in Kathmandu and followed the main trekking routes to Annapurna and Everest. Now they live in Texas, and their son and daughter live on different coasts of the United States. The family decided to celebrate their daughter’s thirtieth birthday together, reaching, for old times’ sake, the Annapurna base camp.

Here is a lady in a sari trying to smuggle two plastic sabers, very similar to Jedi lightsabers. Three border guards ran with sabers. They fenced at them. They took it away for approval with someone. Probably someone agreed or fought with someone else. The sabers lay next to the inspection room, but not in the confiscated box. And finally, the sabers were returned to the passenger.

But a spa worker, thinking that no one is seeing him, rinses his feet in a pool with lotuses...

Finally our flight is announced. From Prime Minister Indira Gandhi we fly to King Tribhuvan. Non-vegetarian and vegetarian menus are offered on board. The Himalayan range is shown through the windows.

In Kathmandu, instructors Kirill and Sasha are waiting for us, meeting the guide from the Nepalese side, meeting with the group and a very exciting process - weighing the luggage. Sherpa porters will carry heavy items along the route. To do this, in Kathmandu you need to buy a trunk (here, in the tourist quarter of Thamel, with a reasonable bargain) and pack your things in it. The distribution standard for Sherpas is one porter for two tourists. The luggage weight limit is no more than 30 kg per Sherpa. But in order to fly on a local airline, you need to keep within 20 kg. In hand luggage, no more than 5 kg is allowed, and we have problems with this: one camera weighs 2. In addition, there are things that I am not ready to part with under any circumstances - a light down jacket and spare trekking boots. Dima has the same situation. As a result, our overall trunk does not weigh even 14 kg, but shoulder backpacks completely fit the 5 kg limit. About 3-4 more kilograms are put on and wound. Lakpa, the Nepali guide, reassures that this trick must pass.

Flying local airlines is fun. Early in the morning you go to the airport, to the local flights terminal. Already in the parking lot you are deafened by the chugging of engines. The runway is next to the road. You can see how twin-engine airplanes cheerfully soar into the sky. They run here like minibuses.

The air terminal building looks like a hangar. Tourists compete with locals with bags of potatoes and onions. Airline counters are located along the perimeter of the hangar and are named according to flight directions: Makalu air flies towards Mount Makalu, Manaslu air - towards Manaslu... Yeti airlines - universal.

There seems to be a schedule, but it’s a minibus mode. We wait our turn, sitting on the trunks and continuing to get to know our fellow trekkers.

Suddenly - enthusiasm among the masses! Tickets appeared in Lakpa's hands. We pass our simple luggage from hand to hand. Industrial scales show that we all fit within the limit. Which means we’re flying!

And here we understand why limiting weight is so important. The plane turned out to be really tiny. Let's get inside. Well, it really is a minibus. Inside there is enough space for 14 people and one flight attendant, who can even stand up to her full height to hand out earplugs and candy. Since there is no partition between the cockpit and the cabin, every action of the pilots is visible. The airplane soars, growls, runs up, jumps - and soars up. For pilots this is routine. For us, this is an unprecedented attraction that we will tell our friends about.

Moreover, the entire flight takes 40 minutes: 5 minutes taxiing, 30 in the air.

Below there are several winding roads, then they disappear too. Lakpa shows his village: there is a regular bus from it to Kathmandu (10 hours on the way), and another 4-6 hours to the stop. But that’s good, this didn’t happen before.

The landing at the airfield Lukla can be called soft: the pilots have enough space to brake, turn around at the end of the runway, and taxi towards the airport building. While we jump out, our things are taken out, the things of the next group are brought in and the next passengers are launched, I manage to read that the airfield is named after Sir Edmund Hillary, the Everest climber (and, in parentheses, Tenzing Norgay. Tenzing’s name will generally appear very often on the route).

The airport appeared in the 1960s, during the construction of a hospital in the nearest large settlement of Namche Bazaar. Nobody thought that he would become so in demand. Now this place is widely known - primarily thanks to video recordings of airplanes deftly taking off from a runway that begins with a wall and ends with a cliff.

All of Lukla is one long street consisting of shops and hotels. We have lunch and immediately go out onto the road. Today the program includes an overnight stay halfway to Namche Bazaar.

The road to Namche is the basis of the circulatory system of the Himalayan tract. Every chocolate and cola that is bought at the top passes along this road. A dense multilingual and tanned crowd is coming towards us. Attempts to say “namaste” are frowned upon.

I would really like to say that the main impression of the first day on the route was the incredible beauty of the rivers and gorges. Or long suspension bridges (although those too). Or endless cabbage fields. But no. The main impression of the first day of the trek was the cattle. Buffaloes, oxen, donkeys in all shapes and forms. Loaded with straw, gas cylinders (I REALLY hope they are empty), food... They are everywhere. They walk side by side, in front and behind. All of them, with the exception of donkeys, are very peaceful and really don’t notice people. But they take up space and wander so leisurely that you want to yawn. You have to maneuver as best you can and squeeze into all the garden fences in order to overtake and not be overwhelmed.

Our first lodge is called Shangri-La. A magical country, a real Eldorado. Well, it's a promising start!

On the same day we accept the “rules of the game”:

1. In the morning and evening we will measure your pulse and blood oxygen levels. Kirill has a special device, or “clothespin”;
2. everyone should drink more than 3 liters of water per day. Preferably hot tea;
3. we solemnly undertake to eat oatmeal or soup for breakfast. We start the route at an altitude of just under 3000 meters, and hot liquid food is the stomach's best friend.

The next day we climb the first “steep climb” - 600 meters of curved steps. If on the trek to Annapurna Base Camp the road is laid out carefully, almost lovingly, pebble by pebble, then on the route to Everest the slabs lie... and thank God.

For the first time, from afar, we see Everest. And we officially enter the territory of the Sagarmatha Natural National Park. Lakpa handles all the paperwork, and our role boils down to stomping forward and declaring in response to local questions: “Lakpa Sherpa!” If the spell does not work, we sit down and wait for Lakpu himself. Fortunately, you don't have to wait long.

Namche Bazaar climbs up a mountain funnel. We have not yet gotten used to civilization, but neon signs, an Irish pub with souvenir T-shirts (“I was drunk at 3500 meters!”), an Internet cafe and a coffee shop with its own pastries are in stark contrast to everything we have seen and will see on the route. Namche is also the last chance for a careless tourist to equip himself properly and stock up on warm clothes.

Civilization is inexorable, it lies in wait for us in the rooms: each room has its own bathroom, and on the third floor you can take a hot shower for 300 rupees per person.

The shower always lurks in the most unexpected places, takes different forms, but they all do not promise comfort in different ways. A gas shower is a cabin made of roofing felt or any available materials. Inside there is usually a column, a hose, you - and nothing more. You turn the handle and the room is filled with clouds of pleasant hot steam. The problem is that as soon as you turn off the water, the steam cools down. Therefore, you need to dress at a sporty pace. And in “cold” lodges it is better to neglect the shower altogether.

It's funny, but higher and further than Namche we will not see a single fat or dense person. This is probably a sieve city: all the fat people settle down in the pub and buy themselves hats with heroic inscriptions Everest Base Camp, Makalu, Kalapatthar 5545...

Our lodge is closer to the top of town and has incredible views in the evening. At night and early in the morning, a methodical, deep, soothing hum can be heard - someone is spinning a drum with mantras on the top of the mountain and striking a bell.

We religiously follow the rule “ascend as slowly as possible, descend as quickly as possible.” Therefore, an acclimatization trip to Kumjung is planned to look at the yeti scalp stored in the monastery. The scalp looks like the dried crown of a feral Nepalese. The road is incredibly boring. But everything is redeemed by the first viewpoint of the Everest massif and Ama Dablam.

The path from Namche Bazaar to Dole is a tiring “travel”. Slowly, up and down, through ordinary deciduous forests... Where is the fabulous riot of subtropics that amazed us on the way to Annapurna base camp? Where are the giant blue butterflies? Everything remains a kilometer below. Climate zones, like layers in a cocktail or layers in a pie, divide mountains into visible zones. I amuse myself by looking to both sides of the road and comparing my sensations with the “eyepiece indicators.” The incredible smell is probably that tree, similar to the Japanese cherry sakura. Yes, that's right - there are some white berries on it. And here is a strawberry tree, a little frostbitten. Here is the first ice on the waterfall.

When it gets hard to walk, I tell myself (and then the girls from the group) a motivating story. There, around the corner, is DOLE Resort&SPA. A huge outdoor pool with light steam rising above the water. Beautiful Nepalese girls serve cocktails to guests. The owner of the lodge has already come out to meet us with a bucket of hot soup... Oddly enough, the fairy tale motivates.

I somehow forgot that we are in a natural national park. Local craftsmen are good at drawing posters with various strange animals: barking deer, snow leopards, and almost dragons with basilisks. At least I could see someone! And here you go - to the right of the road a deer is peacefully plucking bark! Fortunately, I am part of the vanguard of the group. There are three to five of us, the road before and after us is empty and quiet. While the deer is feeding, we hold our breath and try to photograph her silently. Finally, she leaves with dignity. And around the corner four pheasants are waiting for us. Hunting is prohibited in the natural park. The animals simply did not see any evil from humans. We are getting used to this, albeit with difficulty.

We have officially crossed the border of 4000 meters - the village is at an altitude of approximately 4100 meters. I sleep great about this.

The path from Dole to Machermo is a clear illustration of why you need to set out on the route early in the morning. There is snow above us. Below us is the earth. During the night the road freezes, and it is convenient to walk along it. But as soon as the earth warms up, it’s all brown porridge underfoot. The walk takes a maximum of 3 hours, but it’s not easy: groups are also coming towards us, we need to miss them. The road turns into a brown direction. Some are trying to go higher, some are trying to go lower. It soon becomes unimportant which of the three or four sticky ruts is the “main” road. It’s terribly disappointing to see clean snowy peaks and champ your feet.

There is a first aid station inMachermo. Anyone can receive help for free - the center’s activities are sponsored by an international charitable foundation, and doctors work under a contract “for interest” and a line in their biography: in America, parts of European countries and Australia and New Zealand (where, by the way, our doctor-lecturer is from) this is a very prestigious point in the resume.

We listen to an open lecture about the effect of altitude on the body and the manifestations of altitude sickness (with pictures!). After a truly informative speech by the doctor, a representative of the International Association for the Protection of Porters' Rights takes the floor - there is one. Talks about the white man's burden (watch how many kilograms your Sherpa is carrying, what he is wearing, whether he is eating enough). “Do any of you have a porter larger and more powerful than you?” – the guy asked menacingly. "I have". – The tiny Indian woman squeaked.

At the end of the lecture, you can do several good deeds: measure the oxygen level in the blood for a symbolic 100 Nepalese rupees, buy souvenirs. We have gone even further: now in the first aid station there is a poster with signs of altitude sickness and in Russian.

Our next destination is the Gokyo Lakes. According to the description, these are the highest non-freezing lakes in the world. Some people in the group already feel the height: the average speed of movement has dropped, it becomes difficult to simply go up (and for some - down, everything is individual). But the view of the first lake is worth overcoming the unpleasant climbs and wind. Conveniently, at each lake along the route there is an “information desk”: the sign indicates the coordinates of the place and the dimensions of the lake (length, width, depth - average, minimum and maximum).

Surprisingly, the lakes are inhabited! On the second lake we notice scorched orange ducks. Since we are not the only ones who see them, there can be no doubt – they are real. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to photograph them - the lake was the size of a football field, and the ducks swam away to do their own thing.

While we were looking in vain into the lenses of the firelights, a very fat pika was running behind us. Her sisters later crossed the road in front of me more than once. Not fast - “at a comfortable pace.” I didn't photograph them either.

Gokyo greeted us with boots.

And “the highest mountain bookstore.” To find it, I had to work hard - go into the first lodge, go down to the first floor, go through the kitchen, go out into the courtyard with outbuildings, and there... Books in all possible languages ​​are displayed on the shelves, arranged according to the principle “on the right - about ascents, on the left - other things.” Among “other things” one finds “Birds of Nepal”, and “The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo” in English, and detective stories in Czech, and romance novels in Norwegian. There is a trade-in option: return a book you’ve read and get a discount on a new one. In addition to the books, you can buy adhesive plaster, handkerchiefs and the ubiquitous Digestive cookies. But in order to buy, you need to find the owner of the shop. Yes, all this time you were wandering around an open and completely unattended store!

I buy the book by Sir Edmund Hillary “Our Ascent of the Everest. “High adventure” (“Our ascent to Everest. High-altitude adventures”). I “dive” into the book right away - and I never regret it. She “makes” the whole trip, fills it with new meaning. We are walking through the same places that Hillary's comrades walked 60 years ago. We look at the same peaks, eat the same Sherpa stew. But where Hillary entered the endless seas of liquid mud, a well-trodden road awaits us. Where he and George Lowe made the raft, we calmly cross the river on a suspension bridge.

In the afternoon, the surface of the third lake of Gokyo begins to smoke - dense steam rises from the water. And we no longer react at all to the red helicopters that every now and then land on the site by the lake.

While approaching Gokyo, someone from the group pointed to a hill above the lake and asked what it was called. “Gokyo-ri, we’ll go there tomorrow.” There was a path along the side of the mountain, exactly as if following a ruler. I swallowed and hoped it was a joke. Lakpa generally had a good sense of humor.

But this was not a joke. And it's not scary at all. At 4 am the group moved towards the mountain. The goal is to walk as far as possible before sunrise so as not to get baked. The maximum task is to meet the sunrise at the top. The minimum task is to just get up. Still wooden after sleep, we wander behind Lakpa and the second guide Pemba.

At the foot of the mountain there is a sign with a note that if someone climbs in less than 40 minutes, he must be informed, and his name will be included in the local book of honor and respect.

A discordant string of lights is already moving up the mountain. The peak is not visible - it is buried in the inky Himalayan sky. Countless star lanterns shine from above. And we begin to climb.

At the beginning we walk on the ground and stones. Later, only frozen snow and stones remain underfoot. The main thing is to go without stopping. Here we are overtaking a German group, which seems to have forgotten to eat tasty pills the day before. There are a few single and double tourists left behind. Someone is changing clothes, someone is greedily gasping for air.

It’s impossible to get lost, there’s only one road going up and down. Therefore, you don’t have to concentrate on where “your people” are and just go. Just like during long runs, there is a great emptiness in the brain after a while. Stone... Left... Right... Man, go around on the left... I no longer know where the top is, or how long it is left to go. The last people were infinitely long ago and were left behind. "Need help?" - This is helpful Pemba. “No,” I try to speak as loudly and clearly as possible.

A long, lean old man rushes past at cruising speed. I look after him with longing. Left, right... "Need help?" - Pemba, where did you come from?.. Go help the tiny German woman - she’s whimpering endlessly far below. Left, right... And then the sun comes out from behind the ridge of the mountains. I see only honey light on the snow, I feel the beam touching my back in my down jacket... And it feels like napalm. Along with the sun, the wind wakes up.

“Here...oops, why is there a stone here?” - it turns out I'm saying this out loud. And in response you hear: “Good morning!” So, we've arrived. I raise my head, focus... Well, yes, this flat area is probably the top. It turns out that at the top, a group of Korean photographers and five tourists from Moscow and St. Petersburg were waiting for Sasha (climbing time - approximately 1 hour 30 minutes) and Dima (1 hour 45 minutes)!

From the top of Gokyo-ri (approximately 5350 meters) Everest is visible, but poorly. It is blocked like a fence by a dense mountain range. In thin air, perspective is distorted. Qomolangma does not look impressive at all, rather Nuptse and Lhotse seem huge and powerful. The white blade of Ama Dablam generally plunges you into sacred awe. It is all the more surprising that the locals - Sherpas and Gurungs - always knew “who is the most important here.” We just didn't focus on the numbers.

Taking heroic photos. We see a series of Gokyo lakes, which turn out to be much more than five. A chain of people is crawling up the rise. I see Katya and Stas. Here is Andrey. Here is Ira. And here comes Kirill! Our new acquaintances immediately pounce on him - they are running out of time, and they will definitely have to storm the pass from Gokyo-ri to the base camp. They ask the experienced “pros, cons and pitfalls.”

We begin our descent and fully appreciate the wisdom of our decision to ascend in the dark. The sun melted the top layer of snow, and the road became covered with an icy crust. The martyrs are crawling towards us: two steps up, one step down. When you get tired of pushing and sliding on the trail, the two of you in Dima go off to the trails and begin to traverse the slope on your own. A real traverse is still not possible: the slope is pitted with footprints, like a Scottish field with cow hooves. You can walk for some time without falling or slipping. But the longer you “play elf,” the more offensive it is to go deeper into the snow than ankle-deep.

Here and there strange traces can be seen, as if something was being dragged. Suddenly a cry like “Watch out!” is heard from above. And followed by an approving: “Come on, Hans, come on!” Hans in orange pants, also probably tired of tramping up the slope, sat down on his butt and went with the breeze. Hey Hans! But this is an option!.. About 15 meters later, something strange lay on the rocks. These were torn underpants. Well, or light thermal underwear, to be more precise. Someone managed to be a fine fellow before Hans.

Happy and satisfied, we return to Gokyo. This is our first significant ascent on this route.

Kirill reports the latest news: the pass along which we planned to go from Gokyo-ri to Everest Base Camp is covered with snow. How passable it is is unknown. Lakpa advises to go down to the fork in the road and climb to the base camp on the other side of the gorge. Well, said and done. Knowing where the climbs were along the way, we rejoice in the descents. And we are looking forward to base camp.

Pretty soon we pass through the village of Drukla (Thukla). Almost everyone takes the most popular photo of this place.

Hurray – we meet a familiar group from Gokyo-ri! They successfully crossed to base camp via the Cho-la Pass and now hope to return to Lukla as soon as possible.

Meanwhile, we descend from the snow into green forests and get used to the warmth again. The smells have returned. To the side of the “main route” there are fewer lodges; Sherpa houses, schools, and vegetable gardens are visible. Above all this rise white teeth.

Along with us is an interesting character - a madam in white mountain boots. The boots squeak so much that many inevitably wonder if they are prosthetics. It turns out: a) not prosthetics, b) a madam from Krasnoyarsk and c) going to climb Island Peak (Imja tse). And she wears boots because she is too lazy to carry such a weight in her backpack. We follow the brave woman with our gaze. “If it hits them somewhere, to hell with it, not Island Peak.” – Sasha sums up gloomily.

Above Drukla is one of several “memory fields”. Pyramids are collected on a flat area in memory of those who did not return from Everest or simply from any of the Himalayan mountains. This is a pyramid in honor of the legendary Rob Hall, one of the best guides on Everest. While we are resting, a young girl lights several incense sticks near his pyramid and begins wearing new stones, quietly humming something under her breath. The pyramid in honor of Hall's fellow rival, Scott Fisher, is just around the corner.

Quite quickly we get to the village of Gorak Shep. We caught up with Hillary and Tenzing - this village was the base camp for the ascent of Everest in 1953. By the way, “Gorak” is a crow. They really are here, and there are a lot of them.

In Gorak Shep, Kirill offers two options for the feat. First: today we climb Mount Kalapattar (5545 meters), from which you can clearly see Everest, and tomorrow morning we go to Everest Base Camp. Option number two - on the contrary, today we are trying to get to the base camp, and tomorrow morning we will climb Kalapatthar.

Today many are tired, and the path to the base camp seems long (it’s a shame if someone doesn’t reach the main point of the hike). And Kalapattar is here, here, nearby. Against the backdrop of the neat “sugar loaf” of Mount Pumori (7161 meters), Kalapatthar seems like a shapeless heap. Moreover, there is such a convenient path leading to it! We can even see from below how comfortable it is! Decided: today is Kalapattar.

Damn the day when I sat behind the wheel of this vacuum cleaner! The road really seemed very convenient. Only the height makes itself felt. Ten to twenty meters is a respite. The same amount of time - and again rest. You can only breathe through a mask, otherwise your lungs will fall off from the icy wind. Or rather, at first it’s just the wind. But once you cross the geometric middle of the mountain...

Kalapattar is “girdled” by a ridge of stones. Its width is at most 50 meters. But the size of the pebbles is such that you have to mince, step over or jump from one to another. This is not something you want to do at an altitude of about 5000 meters. Strength flows out of the body like water from a leaky plastic bag.

The most hated distance is 50 meters before the last 50 meters. “When you are in pain and your patience and endurance are running out, think of something else for yourself so as not to stop.” (c) Ryan Lochte, swimmer, five-time Olympic champion. You're right, Ryan! Only I can't think. I can wheeze and rest every ten to twenty meters.

A few meters before the top Andrey catches up with me. The presence of a living person next to me somehow stirs me up, and I finally take a step onto a flat surface. And it almost knocks me off my feet! The wind roars like a fast train rushing past. The “invisible hand of Kalapattara” rests on the chest.

Dima is already upstairs and is a little tired of waiting for me. Katya shrank in the stone grotto. Someone brave is sitting on a high rock next to the weather station - yes, there is a weather station on Kalapattara and there is the highest working webcam. Here it is: http://www.evk2cnr.org/WebCams/PyramidOne/everest-webcam.html

On many peaks there are thangkas - multi-colored flags with mantras written on them. The thangka (or lugtag, “prancing horse”) flutters in the wind, and with each clap of the flag the prayer “gallops” towards the Buddha. Here the flags hang not on a rope, but on a steel cable.

The wind dies down for a moment, and I notice two things: absolute, lifeless silence - and the fact that I perceive reality not as a continuous video film, but as a change of frames in a filmstrip. It's time to go down. The sooner the better.

It went down slowly and automatically. I remember Natasha and Kostya - they rise to meet me and congratulate me. I remember the stone ridge. It seemed to me that Dima was walking in front, but it turned out that he was behind me and was belaying me all the time. And I walked like a robot. Upon arrival, I ate a lot of Nurofen and Diacarb and fell into a heavy sleep for half an hour. This was the only time my evening oxygen reading showed me below 90 percent. This is probably what the first signs of altitude sickness look like. Or they don’t look like it - by dinner I feel like a cucumber, I eagerly eat my soup and momo dumplings, and the next morning I’m ready to wander to the highest point of the hike - the base camp.

At 4 in the morning we moved in a discordant line towards Everest. What can you say about the road? It goes up and down. Winds along the moraine. Walks around stones, as if scattered by giants during a game of dice. It only gets light on the way to the camp. But it is impossible to discern it from above: the climbing season is over, and the area, usually covered with tents, is empty. But we are lucky - there is a lonely yellow tent left. The Korean climber was either punished or took his place for next year. The mountain range above the base camp is the last place from which you can see Everest. Except for the slopes of Everest itself.

Sudden insight! The Vikings, living in snow and ice, knew the value of warmth like no one else. In their hell, Niflhell, there is eternal icy cold and the sun never shines. Everest base camp (EBC) is squeezed into a ravine, a huge rock towers above it, and the tongue of the Khumbu glacier rolls out onto it. The tops of the mountains were already turning pink, but near the pile of stones with flags there was a hellish Niflhell cold.

The photography technology here is as follows: you warm your hands for five minutes in huge mittens worn over the gloves. Then you quickly take out your camera or phone, make the necessary settings, shoot, put it back, right or wrong - it doesn’t matter. And again you warm your stumps. To simply feel my little and ring fingers, I needed to constantly clench my hands. Or - the complete feeling of icicles frozen through.

We listened to the Nepalese song “Slowly slowly” throughout the hike. It came from every phone of every porter and guide. Pemba turned on Slowly - and we slowly moved back. How good it was!

On each subsequent day of the hike, we walked approximately 20 kilometers. That is, the distance that we gained in two or three days. To the left and right there were absolutely Roerichian landscapes. Gray stone, pink mountains, strange highland barberry and pheasants right next to the road.

The Tengboche Monastery is located ingeniously - from this point there is an excellent view of the entire valley of the Dudh Kosi River, all the paths and all the main settlements are visible, except perhaps Gorak Shep. The person entering is greeted by a stone with traces left in it by one of the lamas of the Rongbuk monastery when he flew here in a state of meditation. In the courtyard, an old monk slowly, leisurely, conducts an educational conversation with an equally old dog. Inside, the monks slowly create a mandala.

I only began to appreciate the spare beauty of this route on the way back. It is not at all as spectacular as the path to Annapurna. Not overflowing with mysticism, like a trip to Kailash or Lake Tilicho. You spend most of your time, like an ant caught in a sugar bowl, among the white blocks. You feel uncomfortable, but you stubbornly crawl forward. This is a story not about a process, but about how to set a goal - and achieve it.

And now - really useful information

1. Gaining altitude and well-being

We climbed from Namche Bazaar to Dole, and from Dole to Machermo in three days, without gaining even 1000 meters. But this is “less than a thousand” at an altitude of more than 3000. On the way to Machermo, one could observe how one of the strongest “walkers” began to rest longer and longer and walk more and more slowly. No, she didn’t “drive” on purpose - she walked at a comfortable pace. But this comfortable pace became increasingly slower. Her appetite decreased—again, naturally for a girl: she doesn’t eat much for breakfast at home either. And then, at night, she was overcome: headache, nausea. The “victim” was the most puzzled. Kirill decided: we are monitoring the situation. If the symptoms remained the next morning, the person would be contraindicated to go further. Only down 500 meters or to where it was good last time. It would be a shame. But it is necessary.

In the morning the girl felt good and was determined to move on. But first she was sent to the first aid station. The doctor talked to her, examined her and rendered a verdict: everything is fine. We moved on with great relief.

2. Health

The most common illness on the route is a deep cough. Affects those who breathe through their mouths. Don't breathe through your mouth - or by the third day you'll be delighting your comrades with Darth Vader's breath. As a bonus, your voice may disappear.

It is extremely undesirable to go on a route immediately after an illness or without completing treatment - there is a risk that you will not be able to adequately assess your strength, and it will leave you at the most inopportune moment. For example, on a climb, when there are still a couple of kilometers to the final point of the route. In the villages it is possible to rent a horse or donkey. But if the owner of the animal understands that you either ride his horse to the overnight stay or stay here, the price will increase significantly.

3. Diuretics

Or diuretics. They remove fluid and prevent it from accumulating, including in the lungs and brain. Doctors at the first aid post in Machermo also recommend taking them. The advantage of Diakarba and similar drugs is that it makes life easier for the body, but does not mask the symptoms of altitude sickness. That is, in a negative scenario, the victim will have time to realize that everything is serious and to descend 500-1000 meters. But you need to be careful: altitude makes the body’s reaction exacerbated. Someone ate pills by the handful. My only attempt to drink Diacarb ended with me running down a dark corridor three times that night.

4. Food

The owners of the lodges on the route to Everest know how to cook oatmeal. They cook it in water or powdered milk, so don’t rely on oatmeal with nachy (nak – female yak) milk: the yield from naky is small, the whole product immediately goes into yak cheese (nachy cheese).

In the menu you should look for:
- Sherpa stew – “grenadier stew”: everything that is currently in the kitchen is thrown into the soup;
- Mo:mo – dumplings;
- Roasty with egg – large potato pancake with egg;
- Chapatti – pancake. A simple chapati comes with access to preserves, marmalade or honey, although this is not advertised.

If you want to save money and eat to your heart's content, your choice is the dal baht. The hostess generously reports to the mountain of rice at the very first request. And without restrictions.

If you want something sweet - a flitter (an apple, a banana or even a deep-fried chocolate bar) or an apple roll (a generous cheburek with apple jam or pureed apple inside. Only super sweet, only hardcore? Your choice is a Snickers roll. Yes, there will be a whole chocolate bar inside the cheburek. With this fuel you can run to EBC and back.

If you want something weird, you can try yak steak, chicken Kiev (available on the menu of lodges in Gokyo-ri) and rhododendron tea (nothing special).

If your throat hurts, I highly recommend hot lemon, hot orange or hot ginger - hot lemon, orange or ginger drinks, respectively. A less extreme option is masala tea (a more familiar and familiar tea with mild spicy spices) or sherpa tea (Sherpa salted milk tea).

But the most popular product on the route is still hot water. In the morning you should take a large thermos (3 liters): enough for breakfast, and pour it into the thermos.

5. “Flow method”

Since Everest is the highest mountain, going to its base camp will face all the growing pains. On less popular routes, you can feel the interest of the lodge owners in each tourist. Here the flow of tourists is like a river that flows past and will continue to flow, even if the owner starts serving undercooked oatmeal in dirty plates for breakfast. No, of course, no one allows this here. But it could without much damage to business. The lodges are large, the dining rooms are like food factories. It is more convenient for different groups to sit down with “their own” and not mix, getting to know each other - which is a special pleasure.

6. Summer weather

The last obstacle that separates a tourist from Kathmandu is the flying weather in Lukla. If there are clouds hanging over the airport, you could be stuck in Lukla for several days with no alternatives (a bus that takes 10 hours and has to be reached on foot in a direction known only to locals can be considered an option for the desperate). In the meantime, more and more people will join in. On the expected day of departure, we rushed to Lukla at full speed to find out for sure whether the planes were flying. A couple of kilometers away we were relieved to hear the roar of engines. After that, we calmly checked into the hotel, spent the night, and from early morning we “sat on our suitcases,” waiting for a signal from Lakpa, who was waiting for a signal from “his man” at the airport. According to the tickets, we were supposed to leave around 8 am. In practice, we left after 12. But - they flew away!

Conclusion

You need to prepare for this route. Yes, it will be difficult. Yes, this is not only about the ability to do “left-right” and breathe regularly through the nose - it is also about psychological stability. For subtropical beauty, this is also not the place. So why? So that after returning to civilization, you can proudly flex your muscles and say: “I conquered Kalapattar / All that remains is to climb to the very top”? No. This is exactly why you should go to Everest - to understand that these mountains cannot be conquered, and to believe that everything here depends only on you is unacceptable, sometimes cruelly punishable arrogance. One of the strongest climbers, Anatoly Boukreev, said that mountains are not a stadium where you can indulge your ambitions. And this is true. Above is a whitish sky. Huge, blue-white blocks look at you from all sides. And the silence is such that it hurts your ears and, according to the principle of communicating vessels, you feel empty inside. And then you realize how full you are inside. And than.

This is what you need to come here for. This is exactly why.