Shades of Blue (Everest - Part 11)

I'll take "places that don't seem real" for $1000, Alex.

The way I pick my adventures is... unsophisticated. While doom scrolling, I occasionally stumble upon a photo that makes me go "ooooo". And like a pesky virus, that thought implants into my DNA. The only cure is to see it with my own eyes, even if it's dormant for years.

This particular "ooo" cost me 18 hours of flying ~9,130 miles, a 30 min helicopter ride, and 14 days of walking thousands of floors.

Today is a “rest” day in Gokyo - a charming outlet surrounded by the most brilliant shades of blue I've ever seen. It'd be a great writers enclave, if only you didn't have to burn yak poo for heat in the sole room that has a furnace.

The day hike is a steep 1.7 miles up, 693m/2200ft up to the Gokyo Ri viewpoint. About 2-3 hours uphill. Of course it has 3-4 false summits, but by this point I know not to anticipate the end.

It's arguably the best view in the Himalayas: four 8,000 meter peaks on the left (Mt. Everest, Mt. Lhotse, Mt. Makalu and Mt. Cho Oyu) and the Renjo La pass on the right.

But what's most punishing is that Karen (my Garmin watch), while registering the mileage correctly, didn't award me the steps. What did Karen have to say about the excursion? 2.78 miles, 200+ floors, and… 5000 steps.

Training effect: Recovery.

Which meant the locals got to watch me pace back and forth on the one flat 30 foot strip of space in the entire town to maintain my steps streak. I successfully avoided eye contact and having to explain why I'm a slave to the bully on my wrist. 370 days strong 💪.

Some thoughts while pacing:

1. Amazing how wifi is available in every village via Airlink (running on solar power), yet central heat or proper indoor plumbing is nowhere to be found. So much attention is given to food - 3 hot meals a day with a carb-ladden permutation of rice-noodles-potatoes. While wires and pipes would surely freeze in the winter, why isn't there at least more insulation in the huts? The families that live here are not wearing more layers, they are just used to the cold.

2. By the poor hygiene standards, everyone, myself included, develops a hacking cough or stuffy nose. It's remarkable that there's not an outbreak of dysentery - though after a week of constipation I may secretly welcome that.

If there is even a sink, it is never anywhere near the toilet, and may have a container of water from which to take from. In the early mornings it may or may not be frozen. On the rare occasion there is soap, you'll have a grand time trying to get it off with frozen water off your frozen hands. I am of the generation that carries a tiny bottle of hand sanitizer wherever I go, but that's long been emptied.

Two types of toilets - the squatting (most common) and the western (a rare treat). Neither is ever connected to running water, so after you do your business, you grab a small bucket, dip it into the large barrel of water, and then pour that into the toilet. Because of this it's hard to tell if all the water around is a result of poor aim, or just “flushing”.

3. Yaks are practically gods and human life support. They carry supplies to and from civilization. Their hair is used to make clothes. They till land to grow the only thing that can grow here - potatoes. Since the last trees are a few thousand feet below us, yak poo is collected, dried on stones, and used as fuel for the furnace. You see it everywhere, pancaked piles of poo drying on rocks or slapped to the sides of huts facing the sun.