Behind the Scenes
Journey to the Summit
The sun faintly begins to appear upon the horizon, sneaking through the jagged crevices of the Himalaya. It’s rays creating a stark contrast between the sun’s warm orange hue and the whiteness of the snow capped peaks that pierce through the sky. What was at first masked by darkness, became lit with wonder. Your eyes are gifted, rewarded from a weeks long hard work. Your legs struggle carrying your body, yet your mind is too caught up in the sight that is bestowed before you to focus on the pain. It’s a constant battle between the pain your body feels and the beauty that you can’t take your eyes off of. A moment of shear jubilation. You begin to finally feel that sense of accomplishment, that reason that people brave the harshest elements and roughest terrain all for just a glimpse.
My journey began in Pokhara after a 5 hour almost missed bus from Kathmandu. I met up with my guide, a Nepali man named Bebik. He exuded experience and wisdom, shedding light on how many of the nearby mountains he had summited and how many sherpas he had met. Sherpas are like kings within the mountaineering genre. Even amongst fellow Nepalis, they are elders that are admired and looked up to.
The first days began with walking through plush forest and vibrant rice fields. Often we would stop at local tea houses for food and conversation with others on the trail. You truly get a taste of a simpler life, watching as father and sons work the land, tending to their herds of goats and cows. The mothers outside hanging clothes, washing fruits and vegetables in preparation for that night’s dinner.
I couldn’t help but admire, envision myself among them. I could put aside all the stresses of my life back in the city and take up roots among the shepards. I stopped and pauseded with the thought before pressing onward.
Towards the end of the second night we had started to truly gain elevation ascending over 2000 meters in a manner of hours. Resting that night was even harder as the unforgiving winds rushed through my empty room. The bare walls creaked as the temperature fell faster and faster. My misty breath shrouded my room in a dense fog.
It was a cold I had never endured before. Though the night passed and the journey continued the next day and for the next two days we climbed until it was the eve of summit day.
The night before the summit was finally upon us. Our legs were tired as we sat around a fire along with 3 other hikers. The power went in and out leaving only the lummence of the fire to bring light into the room. We had a person from every corner of the globe that night, sharing stories and laughs before we went to sleep only to wake up in a couple hours for the final climb. The fire eventually died taking the warmth with it, leaving everyone to retire to their chambers. It was a cold night as the wind howled. Not being able to sleep, I walked outside. There was darkness, pure darkness with the only light came from the stars perched above. I watched them watching me. A blanket stitched into the very fabric of the sky. I became lost within its quilt.
For the next hour I forgot the chill and stayed out there, pondering on where my journey had taken me. It was going to be a bitter sweet ending. I longed to reach the end yet I didn’t want it to conclude. I battled with myself as I walked back to my room and lied my head on the cold pillow. 3 hours until “summit day” flashed on my phone.
I awoke with Bebik shaking my shoulder. It was time to summit. I zipped up my jacket and slid on my gloves before rendezvousing with everyone else downstairs. The light from their headlights shined brightly, yet my head was bare. I was to use my guide’s light as my own, following behind his every move. It was another 3 hours to the top. The stars shined brightly as the sun stayed tucked away, not yet awaken.
We marched through ice and snow over the edges of mountains. The path continuously grew dark as my guide, my light, would turn his head leaving me blinded. It was in those moments that I didn’t know whether or not I would find myself stumbling down the mountain.
We pressed on until we reached the final stretch, a stairwell carved into the side of the peek. The first few rays of sun prematurely began to peek over the nearby towering mountains. We had to rush in order to beat it. Tired legs, tired minds, yet we continued. The stairs had a thick layer of ice attached to them making the idea of slipping and falling to your death even more apparent. We soon came upon the waving prayer flags and we knew we had made it. I wanted to drop and kiss the ground, though my eyes were distracted by another sight.
Snow capped peaks engulfed my entire view, circling me, making me want to drop to my knees to the might of its beauty. My eyes could not believe what they were seeing, as if they had been cheated by some trick or spell. It wasn’t long before to sun’s rays were in full bloom, piercing through the clouds and illuminating each peak with its orange red hue. There are several moments that you can never forget, watching the sun rise over the Himalayas would stay with me for a lifetime.