why we climb mountains

(read part 1 to know how I ended up at the Everest Base Camp)

We've sailed daringly to unknown continents, built enormous machines to crack the atom, walked on the moon, constructed behemothic mechanical eyes to peer into the depths of the cosmos and sent envoys of mankind to the edge of the solar system. Why? All because our feeling of ignorance compels us to explore.

That may be why we climb mountains. We set our sights on the highest peak in the world, Mount Everest, and we dared to conquer it. When asked why he wanted to climb Mount Everest, George Mallory, one of the first people on the planet to attempt to climb it, said "because it's there." That sounds like a good enough reason to me. Everest is a universal itch. Climbing it requires months of training and savings and is not for everybody. However, getting to the Everest base camp is a more achievable and pocket-friendlier - if not friendly - goal, especially now that it's becoming a popular tourist experience.

I went to do Vipassana this year (you can read about it here). I cannot decide for the life of me which one of these was the more challenging experience.

I am choosing not to write a day-by-day account because I think this is a deeply personal encounter. I was the youngest in a group of 14 adults. We talked about which day we found most difficult. The answer was different for everybody for different reasons. Some days you desperately miss the smell of home-cooked meals; some days you long for the warmth of your mother's arms; every night you crave the comfort of your own bed, and every day you wish you were pooping at your house.

I am yet to begin talking about the actual trek. In nine days, we walked more than 100 km on an incline and climbed the equivalent of about 800 flights of stairs. Every day becomes more challenging than the last as the air gets thinner. And every day, you start believing more and more in Murphy's law: everything that can go wrong will go wrong. I don't mean to scare anybody off. Keep reading to see why it was all worth it but don't say I didn't warn you if you end up going. On a side note, we decided to go before the peak season to avoid bustling crowds but subsequently had to face extreme negative temperatures.

The trek started from Lukla, a small town in Nepal accessible only by a small aircraft. The flight to Lukla was a thrilling experience in itself as the plane navigated through narrow valleys and between towering peaks. Landing in Lukla, I could feel the chill in the air, and I knew this was just the beginning of a gruelling but rewarding journey. As we travelled North, the terrain got increasingly steep, rocky and unforgiving, and the altitude made every step a challenge but the snow-capped peaks, the icy glaciers, and the clear blue skies were a sight to behold. The trek took us through quaint mountain villages, where we interacted with the friendly locals and learned about their way of life. We stayed in tea houses along the way, enjoying hearty meals and warm hospitality. The evenings were spent huddled around the fireplace, chatting with fellow trekkers and sharing stories of our adventures.

As you ascend, the quality of the accommodations and air quote "facilities" decline for obvious reasons. Building power lines in the mountains is difficult since there's little construction material and huge transport costs. They regularly rely on the Sun for hot water and electricity, but the weather is erratic. Fruit and vegetables need to be carried uphill on foot for nutrition, explaining the popularity of daal bhat.

I have devised a new hotel rating system to help you humble your expectations if you ever decide to go.

We stayed at six hotels in total. The highest a hotel rated was 4.5, and the lowest was 3.

Rooms are typically small and cold with twin-sized beds. You'll spend most of your awake time in the common dining room around the heater. It is a good place to make new friends. There is a limited but sufficient food menu. We had a good stock of theplas and chikkis to keep us going. Some hotels also had heated mattresses which were an enormous luxury when there was electricity. The bathrooms were the most problematic part. The cold would often freeze the pipes, and we had to carry our own toilet paper.

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The climb:

I hated that gasping for air wasn't an unfamiliar feeling, but it's wondrous to think about how powerful the human brain is to be able to trick us so effortlessly when we’re anxious. And if it can do that when we feel the weakest, think about what it can do when we’re happy, well-rested, and grounded.

I have heard people talk about how the mountains changed their life. I didn't think that wasn't true, but I thought it would have something to do with witnessing the mammoth scale or perhaps the one-on-one solitude with nature.

I did not expect to feel like I was disintegrating, cell by cell, till the final day, standing under the shadow of the giants as a heap of dust.

Dust that could've been blown over by a whistling blow of cold, thin Himalayan air or maybe get carried away in a merciless snowstorm that frequents the mountains or simply get stepped on and remain as a footstep on the snow until the following day when the first rays of the sun melt me and wash me down into the soil.

But I miraculously stood my ground as a heap of dust. I wonder why? Perhaps so that every particle of my being could witness this very moment.

I wasn't worried about my short breath or my aching feet, I wasn't worried about dying, and I wasn't worried about living, which is more complicated. I wasn't worried about floods, forest fires, or alien viruses from China threatening the existence of our species. And most certainly, I wasn't worried about returning to college after taking a gap year, which seems to be at the top of my worry list these days.

I wasn't worried.

I had a profound sensation within me that made me realize the rarity and exquisite nature of existence itself. I felt an all-encompassing feeling of wonder and joy, and victory. It was as though the universe had been created solely for me to witness its beauty. I felt small but a part of something so much bigger.

Cut to flying back to Kathmandu, breathing in air full of oxygen, I looked at myself in the mirror for the first time in a week and thought, "I just hiked to the base of the tallest mountain in the world.” I am grateful that I had the opportunity to and because I could. Nothing and no one can take this away from me.