11/18/19
To infinity and beyond
It was a brutally early morning with so much excitement that we all were wide awake at 3 am with a 6 am departure time. With the sounds of early morning roosters and brawling dogs we slinked down to the dark lobby to meet out guide who was going to take us to the airport for our flight into the mountains. We arrived on time and were pleasantly surprised to be joined by gaggle of young adventurous trekkers catching their various planes into the mountains. they wrangled us all on the buses in a very hurry-up-and-wait situation. As we sat, multiple buses behind multiple planes on the tarmac, waiting for...?? The sun to come up? The ground crew to finish their coffees? Or, as we were told, “for the airport to open”. Or insanity to set in... to this day no one is quite sure. But miraculously they waved us on to this rickety 12 seater plane serving grandma’s toffee hard candies and cotton balls (for our ears). We took off with out issue and the flight was jaw dropping as we weaved between gargantuan mountains carved from the Earth by massive glaciers and tectonic mood swings. But the most spectacular part of the trip, maybe my entire life, was our landing in Lukla. As we veered left and right our tour guide points dead ahead stating, “see Lukla!” And sure enough through the pilots’ front window directly in front of our plane, thousands of feet in the air, was the village of Lukla! Before my mind had an opportunity to process what I was looking at.... BANG! Our wheels mad contact with an invisible runway jutting out from the cliff face and with a 20 degree incline and as long as a typical driveway with the village and a mountain as the emergency crash stop. With our hearts pounding and our flight crew donning coy smirks we shakily disembarked. My father the pilot assess the situation instantly and exclaims for all to hear, “boy, you only get one chance at that and then you’re dead. There is no way to abort a landing.” We later learned that it is one of the worlds most dangerous airports to land in. So after that pure thrill we met up with our porters. I must take a second here to describe a porter. These are young men who haul tourists bags up and down the mountain for them. By bags I mean, 3-6 full backpacks (150 lbs) at once up one of the world’s most difficult treks using their heads and necks instead of shoulder straps. I have never felt so impressed in my life.
So it began, the day was chilly but sunny with clear skies and trekkers brimming with excitement. According to Ben this is our easiest day with a net negative 1000ft drop in altitude over 5 miles. But the views... it feels like you are on top of the world. The air is refreshing with every breath, and our legs are eager to start the climb. Mom and dad hiked together at the rear taking it all in at their own pace as Ben, Viv, and I surged ahead. It is a crowded trail with hikers passing us in both directions, porters carrying jaw dropping loads, and the occasional donkey train. Another oddity was the frequent helicopters about one every 10 minutes. Our guide explained that the majority are rescue flight retuning hikers that could not finish. We hiked on and on but I must admit I felt great, granted it was mostly down hill, until Ben astutely pointed out that our last leg of our entire trip will be all UP hill... About halfway we stopped for lunch with a breathtaking view of the valley and several mountaintops. We had Sherpa Stew which was a hearty stew made from vegetables and herbs grown behind the restaurant. Salty and flavor packed it hit the spot. We then finished our first leg of the trekk in Phakding. As the temperature drops and we peeled off our dusty boots from our ripen feet and sat back in wooden chairs enjoying hot mint tea we reflected on the days trek and smiled.
No comments:
Post a Comment