65March/April 2018 —THE COLOURS OF DEVOTION
Prayer flags are a common sight at temples and
on mountains, sanctifying the passing breeze.kilometres further back – at EBC.
Next day we traced the moraine to its source,
walking beyond Gorak Shep and delving back
into the morass on the final approach to EBC. At
the end was nothing more than a local high point
in the heaving sea of grey. Without a proliferation
of prayer flags and memorial plaques, we might
have just kept walking.
That rude platform gave a view of what is
surely the worst campsite in the world. Even a
first-timer knows not to pitch a tent on stony
or sloping ground and here there’s nothing
but stones and slopes. The lack of litter was
impressive, but even sans discarded oxygen
cyclinders or plastic bags, it was still a scruffy
place. It looked like a massive, badly managed
quarry. Having freshly dynamited out the
mountains, the workers had just stomped off for a
smoko and left all their mess where it had landed.
While EBC was sobering, next morning’s
climb to Kala Pattar was exultant. Matt hung
prayer flags in honour of family members,
while we drank in the scene. The stiff ascent
had reduced the moraines to mere foreground,
allowing the peaks to shine. The sharp,
snow-hung triangle of Nuptse still loomed in
front, but now the muscular pyramid of Everest
stood up taller in the back. Between the two, the
Khumbu Icefall slumped endlessly into the valley,
the business end of the glacier and the least
predictable of all of Everest’s hazards.
Having bagged two famous views of Everest,
we now returned to unfinished business with
those High Passes, starting with Cho La at 5,420m,
two days walk from EBC.
After returning to Lobuche, we climbed to
Dzongla and on up after another early start. On
Kongma, Mark had stepped off the trail at one
point to deliver a Robert Service poem, now he
had more drama for us as he launched into a
lusty speech. Twigging the Scots accent, it could
only be the key passage from Braveheart and we
gamely joined in on the cry of ‘Freedom!’ before
turning back to the ascent.
Cho La’s defining feature is a glacier before
the final climb. There was some initial fiddling
with the basic crampons we had purchased in
Namche, but luckily conditions were as benign
as could be. For us, the crossing was a novelty, a
welcome break from rocky trails, but Subal had
told us that bad weather can make this glacier
dangerous and Cho La has to be aborted.
Soon enough we had picked our way across,
surmounted the rock wall beyond and were
starting another descent into shadow, tumbling
down the western side to the Gokyo Lakes.
Gokyo itself, seen from above, had the
orderly feel of a Swiss lakeside village, only with
yaks instead of Friesian cattle. It was home for a
night, a base for brief exploration. Some climbed
Gokyo Ri to complete the trifecta of Everest
views, while others did a kora, a circuit around
the lake. Matt, of course, did both.
We were now deep into our second weekand – despite the efforts of our cooks – talk often
turned to foods we missed. Not surprisingly,
while salad, fruit and other worthies got a shout,
bacon was a clear favourite.
Next morning, we tackled our last big climb,
to Renjo La – or as Sara put it, “another baconless