Trekking to Everest Base Camp – 'because it’s there'

3:52pm Monday 19th March 2007

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Novice trekker Suzanne Holiday conquers the ultimate challenge of a lifetime in the Nepalese Himalayas

It's always up there in the top places to see before you die. Everest - the tallest mountain on Earth.

Not only was I going to see it, I was going to trek in the footsteps of the great explorers to the base of it, covering a total of nearly 100km over 13 days to a height of 5,364 metres.

I had no idea what to expect from this trip - was I fit enough? Would I suffer from altitude sickness? I was a complete novice at high-altitude trekking, and trekking in general, but what better way to find out if I had a head for heights than in Nepal - home to eight of the world's ten highest peaks.

Leaving the infectious chaos of Kathmandu behind I flew into the precariously located mountainside village of Lukla, the trekker's gateway to the Himalayas.

The 45-minute flight onboard Yeti Airlines was an adventure in itself particularly landing on the world's shortest airstrip at a mere 450-metres long, not wide!

Days one to four, height: 3,440 metres

The first couple of days were spent leisurely meandering through woodland at a gentle gradient walking over Indiana Jones-style rope bridges and past small villages donned in colourful Buddhist prayer flags. Air not too thin.

"It feels like your head is in a vice. Take it slowly, drink four to five litres of water a day and eat plenty of garlic soup," our guide Sherpa Gopi was describing the effects of altitude and how to combat it!

With this advice in mind it was time to head high. It was from Namche Bazar (3,440-metres) - a colourful trading town with a large resident yak population - that the real challenge began.

We stayed a night here in a comfortable tea-house' lodge to acclimatise and to quite literally catch our breath!

The tea houses were basic but adequate and the Sherpas did a sterling job cooking up vast quantities of noodle soup and the local favourite dal bhat (rice, vegetable curry and lentil soup) over a steaming yak-poo fuelled stove.

That night I chatted to a German couple who had not made it to Base Camp and who had to descend having fallen victim to altitude sickness. Perhaps naively, it hadn't occurred to me that I might not reach my ultimate goal of Base Camp. This just made me more determined to make it.

I like to believe I have a reasonable level of fitness, putting in countless hours on the gym treadmill in the run-up to this trip but would my training regime, including taking the stairs instead of the escalators on the London Underground, pay off? I was about to find out

Days five to eight, height: 5,140 metres

Beyond Namche our guide Gopi led us slowly upwards along dusty tracks past increasingly dramatic mountain views with regular rests for hot lemon and ginger tea en route.

Onward and upwards, the decrease in oxygen was becoming apparent - I couldn't quite catch my breath and the pounding headaches were kicking in.

Pausing at the monastery at Thangboche we continued onto Gorak Shep. From here we would embark on the tough five-hour journey to Base Camp. I was already feeling rotten with the altitude.

Day nine, height: 5364 metres

Awoken with a mug of sugary black tea I crawled out of my sleeping bag in the sub-zero temperatures to face the challenge ahead.

Although apprehensive, this was the day I had been waiting for.

That morning my fingers were numb and like blocks of ice. Until that sun rose, wow it was cold! As the sun peeped out from behind the mountains the temperature immediately rose.

Walking in silence, the rough terrain to Base Camp was difficult, rocks and rubble taking all my concentration to put one foot in front of the other. This coupled with the lack of oxygen meant my pace was down to a mere shuffle.

I was physically exhausted. After two hours of pigeon steps aided by my shiny new high-tech trekking poles, the mountains opened up to give clear view of the mighty Khumbu Glacier.

Making my way across the glacier, past ice lakes and ice pinnacles, I was amazed to hear protesting groans and creaking sounds echo round the valley - the glacier I was standing on was shifting (it moves at a rate of up to 300-metres per year).

As I neared Base Camp the famous and feared Khumbu Ice Fall appeared.

Everest Base Camp is an inhospitable place. The vicious winds that whip up without warning and unremarkable, barren landscape is what I image being on the Moon to be like.

I lifted my head and the last nine days of hard uphill slog made it all worthwhile. With the awe-inspiring view of the Khumbu Ice Fall and the windswept summit of Everest in the distance (you can't see the summit from Base Camp), I felt insignificant and humble in its presence. Pure Himalayan magic.

The scene of many tragedies and triumphs, I felt an overwhelming respect for this mighty peak that had welcomed Sir Edmund Hilary and Sherpa Tenzing Norgay on its summit half a century before me.

The last thing I could think of as I stood there exhausted was attempting to climb it as so many do year after year, though only a handful survive the oxygen-starved Death Zone to reach the summit.

Disappointingly there is no sign or statue to acknowledge the fact that I had reached Base Camp, just a line of bright prayer flags. Out of season for climbers to attempt a summit climb, we had the entire Base Camp to ourselves. I spent half an hour enjoying the incredible views and taking lots of photos, posing with a weary smile before turning my back on Everest.

The trek to Base Camp pushed me to my absolute physical limit and I had at least a two-hour walk back over the rocky terrain. It was now all downhill to Kathmandu. I could barely believe the swiftness with which the effects of altitude lifted. Descending just 500m I felt human again, if a little tired.

From start to finish, the mountain scenery was simply spectacular and the sun shone and the skies were clear blue.

My extreme experience thankfully was a triumph, not a tragedy. It tested me to my limit - but the rewards were worth it.

I am by no means an experienced trekker or superfit. I walk to the station in the morning in my high heels like any other female commuter.

Trekking experience does help with a high-altitude trek but what really counts is a huge amount of determination.

So why do this trek to see Everest if you are not a seasoned trekker? Well as famous fateful explorer George Mallory said: "Because it's there."

Would I do it again? Probably not, but I would most definitely recommend it as a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

By Suzanne Holiday