This is the End (Everest - Part 12)

Goodbye shades of blue. Despite my desperate need to defrost, I would have gladly stayed here longer.

We head out at 7am, as usual I'm only in a half-awake state. The locals have long been up and doing their business. An old woman with a stick is chasing after her yak herd and yelling something in Nepali. Yaks are stubborn creatures but with the cutest babies.

It starts out on a gradual incline walking around the lake to the far side. The lake is still, reflecting a mirror image of the mountains.

We climb higher and higher. Looking back I still have to remind myself that this place is real.

Higher and higher, dirt and shrubbery turn into rocks and snow. By now it's obvious - 3 or 4 false summits are in order. I'm somewhat ashamed to admit it's taking me this far in to figure out that prayer flags mark the top of the pass.

We get into the crater, covered with snow. I'm actually cherishing the trek this morning, despite my numb fingers and toes. For once my brain is oddly quiet.

It's the last pass before I go down, down, down - to the land of showers and central heat. When you have a cold, you tell yourself that you will never take breathing through your nose for granted again. I'm feeling similarly about warm toes.

I was fantasizing about helicopter rescues just a few days ago, yet now I'm saddened that my time here is coming to an end.

These mountains have been an unrelenting drill sergeant, bully, and abuser - and have pounded me down to my limits - no, past my limits mentally, physically, spiritually, and every other way.

But they have also been a teacher and a sage - providing an answer to the ultimate question of life, the universe, and everything - which has only spurred more questions.

Sounds like a classic case of Stockholm syndrome, eh?

Climbing onwards, the rocks increasingly covered with snow and ice. This is either the gentlest of the passes or I'm being nostalgic.

And finally the final push - I can see the flags and the little people up above.

3…2…1… and I'm at the top.

A charging station powered by solar is the landmark. Everyone is plugging in since down below the tea houses charge $7 for one charge. The poor station is overwhelmed - 20 minutes gets me an increase of 2%. Peachy.

I look back out at the lake and the Mountains behind it - Everest, Lhotse, Makalu, Cho Oyu. By now the clouds have come in so past the first line of peaks I get to leverage my imagination.

On the other side of the pass is a lake, more mountains, and a staircase to descend.

This is by far the gentlest pass of the three. While the stairs are covered in snow, they are not a match for my microspikes, and so I hippity hop down bravely.

Then it's a flat, down, flat trail along the side of a hill, towards the next set of Mount Dooms.

It's a pleasant walk, untrafficked, with no sounds except for our own footsteps.

A cloud is approaching, bringing with it tiny specs of snow.

Nature is in it's crying cycle again. I reach Lungden just as the snow stops - but looking at the sky, it seems there's going to be a lot of snow in the coming days.

Lucky for me, I'm running away from it.