Day 10: Namche to Lukla (Part I)

I realized I completely forgot to cap off my trekking trip...

Of all 10 days spent on this trek, I'd have to say this one, the last day, pushed me the hardest, physically. Day 2, which took us from Manju to Namche — shudder — almost broke me mentally, but going from Namche to Lukla put me right at the outer reaches of my physical limits.

In the last post, I fired my shady porter-guide, Patti. Once I did, I felt like a big weight had lifted off my shoulders: I slept in an awesome teahouse right on the main drag in Namche, enjoyed soothing hot tea and free wifi at a bakery in town, and became friendlier with the owner and ended up getting awesome tips from him. But because I was now without a porter-guide, I was faced with the decision of either trying to hire one for the last leg, or going at it alone.

I talked to a bunch of sherpas in Namche, but they all listed prices I thought were too high to just get to Lukla. The bakery owner had a brother or friend's brother who worked the route all the time and was willing to do it for a reasonable price, but he was going to leave at 04:30; I'd just covered over 45km in two days and while I could have gotten myself ready for a day's hike starting at 04:30, I thought it'd be a better idea to get a full night's sleep instead. So, after talking extensively with the bakery owner and going over every inch of the terrain from Namche to Lukla (mostly downhill, except for the last bit from Ghat to Lukla), I thought I'd be able to slog it out myself.

What wasn't on my horizon was this...in the middle of the night, I woke up needing to go to the bathroom. Having experienced almost two weeks of this, I knew better than to try and go back to sleep, and resignedly scooped up my flashlight, shivered into cold shoes and down jacket, and trudged off to the bathroom. But there was a strange sound that greeted me when I got back — RAIN. Sure enough, when I looked outside my window (and really, what an awesome view of the Namche Bowl), the ground was soggy and there were rivulets of water running every which way. Sigh. Okay, so things would be a little, er, damp in the morning.

Hah.

When I woke up, around 06:00 or so, I checked outside the window to see if the rain had stopped, as I'd heard wet plopping sounds for the rest of the night since my midnight toilet sojourn. I suspected that, being around 11,500ft (3,500m) in altitude, the wetness would linger for quite a while and that I'd probably have to throw on a water-resistant layer or two.

I was right — sort of.

IT. WAS. SNOWING.

And not only was it snowing, but as much as I tried waiting it out, the bloody snow kept falling and falling and falling. The good part, if you can call it that, is that the snow didn't really stick to the ground. But then again, it didn't stop, either, and the longer I waited, the more I was forced into a corner. I had to reach Lukla that day — there was no other option for that — and there was only so long I could put off the inevitable.

I had to trek, sans porter-guide, for 6 to 8+ hours in cold, wet and snowy conditions. As miserable as it sounds, I also couldn't really complain because for the previous 9 days, I'd enjoyed pretty much perfect weather. That's 90% favourable conditions, which I think anybody would accept.