Everest pre-arrival:
So I’m going to attempt to climb Mount Everest this spring. Everest has been a life-long dream for me, and I’ve had a tendency lately to seize the day; who knows how much time we all have left to do stuff like this? Trying my best to strike a balance between that attitude and some semblance of stability, I fought hard to retain my job after my 2.5 month hiatus, escalating to higher ups and offering to take unpaid leave, but my employer ultimately wouldn’t bite, so I resigned in order to climb Everest. YOLO, right?
I decided to go with IMG, the same group I climbed Rainier, Cotopaxi, and Aconcagua with.
My friends and family were initially skeptical when I broke the news but eventually came around with their full support.
My parents even threw me an Everest party! They printed out tons of information about Everest and my expedition specifically for guests to pore over. My aunt concocted Everest cocktails: made up of gin, cream of coconut and curry powder. I brought my gear over for a climbing gear petting zoo.
My mom made this epic Everest cake that was even to scale!
It was emotional and powerful gathering together extended family, the boyfriend, family friends, and old neighbors I hadn’t seen for years and even decades. It was Everest preparation I didn’t know I needed. It felt amazing to be on the receiving end of so much genuine love and support. It will certainly be drawn upon when I’m challenged high up the mountain.
In my typical procrastinating state, the past few weeks (ok, more like days) consisted of a flurry of last minute equipment ordering, getting everything working or broken in, and other logistical scrambling. My sheepish email questions sent to the IMG guides at the eleventh hour were met with politely restrained admonishments. “Yes, it’s really getting close!” “You should move heaven and earth to get this fixed before you leave the USA!” Many of my last walks with Oscar in the Boston Common included trying to get my new Satellite phone up and running while Oscar gave me his lethal side eye.
The Common also turned out to be a perfect stomping ground for trying out my crampons too.
The day before I flew out, I went to an Allston machine shop to have my crampons fixed so they wouldn’t get caught on the rungs of the ladders I’d be crossing crevasses on. By some miracle, I got everything squared away and packed in time for my flight (Oscar pulled out all the stops to try to make it into my luggage).
Outside of the scramblings, there were bittersweet moments. I treasured every last walk with Oscar. He’s getting older and the two and the half months I’m away computes to around 1.5 dog years :( Every last healing bowl of pho, moment with my loved ones, my comfy bed, my perfectly pressured hot shower. Normal things I would miss so dearly while I was busting my ass and living much more rustically on that mountain.
The evening before my flight, a farewell dinner with my amazing friends who gifted me this inspiring plaque and one last racuous barcrawl with my awesome coworkers left me feeling especially touched and vulnerable.
I closed up all my bags and my family saw me off to the airport.
After getting to my gate, I once again “lucked out” (thanks David :P) with unbelievably lavish flights (my Boston to Doha flight consisted of a lie flat seat in my very own QSuite compartment.)
I feasted on a decadent dinner of herb-crusted seared tuna with chimichurri dressing to start and seared Chilean sea bass with roasted garlic sauce for my main.
I watched a couple movies I’d been meaning to see. Got plenty of sleep too. They even gave pajamas and nice bedding and basically tucked me in for bed! There were fancy lotions included too that I’ll bring to combat the awful dryness of Everest Base Camp.
When I arrived in Doha, I got access to the state of the art Al Mourjan Lounge, complete with a reflection pond, five-tier chandelier, multiple excellent restaurants (all free!) and stunning murals.
It was actually too fancy for me. When I first got in, I opened my suitcase to grab my charger and forgot about how precariously everything had been packed. My trail mix exploded all over the marble floor in this minimalistic, quiet, expansive, beautiful space. There wasn’t a trash can around so I had to ferry multiple handfuls of trail mix to the poor staff to dispose of in their top secret trash receptacle.
My body was so confused, with the 9 hour and 45 minute difference I’m trying to adjust to for Nepal (that’s right, wtf is with the 45 minutes??!), my body clock was all out of whack. I sat down at the deli and ordered a sandwich, briefly entering crisis mode. What meal is this even supposed to be? I got over my meal hang ups pretty quickly and gorged.