Sunday, August 4, 2019

The simple life can get complicated


French Polynesia 2015

In many ways, living on a boat can be much more peaceful than living on land. The classic shot of a cruising boat shows a scenic anchorage with no one else around. It's why many people dream of living on the water.


Lost and found. The contractor who made
our new bearing lost both the original and new
bearing for a few weeks, but they turned up
when the wrong customer gave them back.

We have had more than our share of picturesque backdrops and deserted beaches. The flip side of living on a boat is that a lot of usually ordinary activities become a lot harder. Grocery shopping might mean walking several miles to the store (if you can even find one). Laundry for us in a remote place is washing by hand in a bucket. Having to fix something that needs a part from overseas can be an exercise in wrangling bureaucratic red tape and waiting. Sometimes it seems like it would be better to just bang your head against a wall repeatedly--at least something would be happening. Our latest saga involves trying to fix our rudder and illustrates the potential perils of doing any boat project.

The main reason we pulled Perry out of the water here in Pangkor was to investigate and fix a slight amount of movement in the rudder. The cause ended up being a lower rudder bearing that had come unglued.  The planned repair seemed pretty straightforward and we thought we had everything sorted before we left for India and Nepal. In a nutshell, we ordered the special plastic for the bearing from a place in Penang and handed it over to a contractor who was to fabricate a new one.

When we got back from our land trip, everything started to go downhill. A closer inspection of the rudder post revealed it to be corroding from the inside out. To replace the post would be a much bigger project than we wanted, especially if the blade was destroyed in the process. From past experience, we know that due to the age of our boat, Privilege can provide no assistance. After spending some time trying to rationalize that it would be fine to just repair the rudder post, we bit the bullet and accepted that the safest option was to replace it. 

All the time Matt has spent eating fiberglass dust (i.e. grinding) apparently paid off. In a minor miracle, he was able to extract the shaft from the fiberglass blade while keeping the fiberglass mostly intact. 


The opened rudder.
Extracting the old rudder shaft.
Matt was even able to keep the top
fiberglass piece--around the rudder hole--intact.
That will make it much easier to put back together.
We took the extracted rudder shaft and fiberglass spade to a local foundry to have a new one fabricated. The owner said it would be no problem and promised us a quote by the following day. The whole job would take less than a week. We were amazed at how easy everything was progressing. Yes, this is the part of the story with the obvious foreshadowing of bad things to come.

The foundry called the next day to say that our stainless steel shaft, which has a diameter of 39 mm is not a standard size. The factory, which deals in inches (it's like being back in the U.S.), only has standard 1.5" or 1.75" diameter rods (38.1 mm or 44.5mm). Other places have 40 mm rods. But no one in the world seems to have 39 mm. If your eyes are starting to cross at this point (I feel you), feel free to skip to the end--the bottom line is that we can't get the rudder post we need without spending way more than it's worth.

You might think that a millimeter would not be that big of a deal. But when you are dealing with rudder posts, that pesky one-thousandths of a meter (the size of the tip of a pencil) makes a big difference. The existing bearings (one of which is still securely fiberglassed into the boat) as well as the channel that Matt so cleanly dug out of the fiberglass blade are meant to fit a post that is exactly 39 mm. Trying to get a 40 mm post to fit would mean potentially screwing up the angle of the rudder, which can change the way the boat was designed to operate.

The option of going to 38 mm would also mean messing around with the existing bearings and channel, as well as putting a weaker post into place. Privilege stopped using 39 mm posts shortly after our boat was built and went up to 49 mm. Going down to 38 mm doesn't seem like the best move.

The simple answer would be to machine down a 40 mm (or larger) post to 39 mm. And there are lots of local companies that can do that (including the foundry referenced above), but not for a rudder shaft that is over 7 feet long, like ours. 

The only places we have found that can do this are in the U.S. They are "reasonably" priced ($500 for a rod that would cost $150 off-the-shelf here) but it costs a gazillion dollars to ship here to Malaysia (okay, not that much but more than the rod costs). And believe me, the U.S. firms are almost as unexcited about doing this for us as we are about paying for it. Most of the companies that can do these jobs are used to dealing with companies with repeat jobs and big quantities.

Stay tuned to see if we have to spend the money to have the dumb hunk of steel sent to us halfway across the world (can you hear the gritting of my teeth in that sentence?). 

Tuesday, July 2, 2019

At least we have bacon


It's hard to find pork products in Malaysia because they are haram. Although, funny enough, you can find chicken products that mimic the taste of ham or bacon.

A local grocery store has a separate section for pork products, which Matt and Mark visited the other day. Matt was trying to sneak in some 'real world' schooling by asking Mark to figure out if there was a price savings if we bought half a kilo of bacon instead of the 200-gram package. Mark figured out that the 500-gram bacon was a slightly better deal, but then said, 'And anyway it's more bacon!' Out of the mouths of babes...


The cockpit floor on Perry after we opened it
up. Just three loose boards to shore things up.

One of the projects we are tackling while the boat is out of the water is reinforcing our cockpit floor. A few years ago, we started noticing a sponginess to it. The floor would flex slightly when walking on it, even causing the tables to rattle a bit. Perry was still as solid as a rock, but we also wanted to make sure she stayed that way.


The cockpit with new hardwood pieces.
The piece of floor that was cut out is suspended above.
We hung it from the cockpit hardtop to make it easier
to lower into place without disturbing the epoxy underneath.

The problem with fixing the issue is that we had no idea what was underneath. We didn't know whether we could shore it up by injecting epoxy resin into the floor or if we had to cut the top layer of flooring off. It would be like doing surgery on someone without really knowing how things were organized underneath.


Mixing epoxy.
We didn't even try to contact Privilege because we have never had any luck getting information about our vintage boat. At one point, Matt injected a syringe full of epoxy into a hole he drilled into the floor. When the entire contents disappeared, it was clear that we would need a lot of resin to fill any voids. Using a small camera we borrowed from our friends Dave and Booker on Tortuguita, Matt was able to get a vague notion of the layout.

He cut around the edge of the floor and we lifted it out. We were surprised to find that the only thing separating the top layer of floor (which was a sandwich of fiberglass and foam core, still in good condition) from the bottom of the hull were 3 skinny boards that were not attached to anything. Over the years, the teak boards appear to have shifted a bit and were no longer supporting the floor.

We purchased a bunch of hardwood from the local lumberyard. It is so strong and waterproof that it is the wood of choice to make local fishing boats. The pieces went underneath the areas where the cuts in the floor were made and across the center of the floor.


Working under the dangling floor. Hope those ropes hold.

Matt epoxied the pieces in and we laid the cut out floor piece on top. There were a few more steps involved (dry fitting, epoxying the bottoms first and temporarily laying the floor, yelling, etc.) but I will try not to bore you with any more detail. It was a bit of a trick to get the 100-lb floor back in correctly so that all the epoxy underneath would make contact with the floor for maximum strength.


Next, fiberglassing, filling/fairing, sanding, and painting.

We now have a solid cockpit floor. Our new favorite thing to do is to jump around on it (after spending years yelling at the kids not to walk too 'hard'). Speaking of which, when we owned our 2-flat, we used to have a tenant that Matt was sure did not bend her ankles when she walked. She would make our light fixtures rattle as she tromped around above us. Matt actually asked her to stop walking so heavily (well, he actually asked her roommates because she was not around). He started the conversation by saying, 'Do you have a T-Rex living up here that we don't know about?' All tact. Needless to say, the tenant continued to walk the way she walked and Matt stayed irritated.

With the critical part done, we can work on fiberglassing all the open areas and making it pretty again.



The next project, which has leap frogged to the front of our list, is replacing one of our rudder posts. Matt had noticed a tiny pinhole in the stainless steel when we removed the rudders after getting hauled out. 

We hired one of the contractors at the boatyard to fill the hole. But when the worker put acid on the shaft in preparation for putting in the epoxy, the acid revealed a whole series of voids that we couldn't see before. Unfortunately, it is hard to tell what is underneath these surface voids, but the chances are good that the underlying metal has lost structural integrity. For us, this means replacing the rudder shaft because the last thing we want is to have it break off in the middle of the Indian Ocean.


Rudderly ridiculous

It is a good thing Matt spotted the initial hole and that we discovered this issue now rather than losing a rudder while sailing. But it does mean another big project in uncharted (for us) territory. It will involve trying to dig out the post from the rudder without knowing what it looks like inside (not to mention repairing/rebuilding it with a new post). Just when Matt thought he could stop itching from fiberglass dust.

Wednesday, June 5, 2019

At the boatyard

Coffee maker picture created by
Conrad using Blender 3D Modeling app

One of the things I like the most about homeschooling is the time that it leaves Conrad and Mark to pursue their interests.


"The Food Chain" by Conrad TenEick (conceptual
drawing in marker for 3D modeling project)
Mark reads voraciously. Kindle is the best invention ever for boat kids like Mark. Conrad has taught himself Blender, a 3D modeling application. He is collaborating with a team online to create a 3D animated movie and this week he won second place in an online competition with the coffee maker pictured above. The 'picture' is really a 3D model that (with the proper software) can be rotated, textured and lit from any angle.  It's actually quite complex and makes me feel a bit like my VCR is blinking '12:00' when Conrad tries to explain how he created it...


One thing checked off the list:
getting our trusty Mantus Anchor regalvanized
In other news, being 'on the hard' still stinks. Luckily, we at least like Pangkor Marina. There are definitely worse places to be stuck for a bit. We have crossed paths here with many of the cruisers we have met in our journeys and met new friends, some who have been here in the boatyard for years (literally). These long-term residents are responsible for the nickname 'Hotel California' bestowed upon the boatyard ('...but you can never leave'). Reasonable rates and pleasant conditions make it one of the best places around for folks who need to do a lot of work.


The entrance to the marina is a bit out of the way (as
are the bathrooms for us), so we pulled
out our bikes. It gives Mark a chance to
work on his bike-riding skills. That's
the neighboring boat in the background.

James Khoo, the owner of the marina and boatyard, and his crew do their best to make sure everyone gets what they need. There are even some nice perks, like the recent 'break fast' (not to be confused with 'breakfast') buffet dinner. Restaurants like the Sfera Hotel offer lavish buffets for Muslims to break their Ramadan daytime fasting.


I took a ride on the ferry over to
Pangkor Island with some friends on other
boats. They got haircuts and head/shoulder
massages for under $4 and I did some
grocery shopping.

We are plugging away at our boat projects. The big ones are preparing the bottom for new paint and painting the hulls and cockpit. Unfortunately, with all the boats here and the sometimes uncooperative weather, the painters (and really all the workers it seems) are a scarce resource so we may need to wait awhile before we get our turn. The rudder bearings turned out to be in good shape and the slight wobble was due to a failure of the epoxy holding it in place.  Reattaching the bearing should be a simple task--but we want to make sure the alignment is perfect, so that means finding a 2-meter long 39-mm diameter tube that can act as a temporary rudder stock (the tube will ensure that the upper bearing is aligned as the lower bearing gets glued in). Haven't found one yet, but the search goes on. We are also having new bearings fabricated anyway, since the rudders and bearings are out and available.


Pangkor Island is a 15-minute ride
from Marina Island (and less than $4 US
round trip).

As usual, the boat has provided plenty of unplanned projects to keep us busy. The fridge decided to start acting up and wouldn't cool properly. After initially working with a local refrigeration expert and going through a few rounds of troubleshooting (with nitrogen gas, vacuum pumping, and coolant), Matt ended up finding a small leak in the tube leading to the evaporator plate. He finally got some use out of his leak detector.

We have a new plate on order, but Matt-gyver has managed to patch the leak for now using our trusty friend JB Weld. There is a proper refrigerator in the marina lounge, but it is a quarter mile away so it is nice to have a working fridge on the boat again. When it's a humid 90 degrees in the shade, we like to keep cold water (and beer) close.


Pangkor Island

Our battery charger also finally flatlined for good. The salt spray it received heading to Kumai six months ago finally caught up with it, despite being professionally 'cleaned' in Phuket. Luckily, we were able to borrow a small charger from the marina and have new ones on order. We decided to replace our single MasterVolt charger with two Sterling chargers, for price as well as redundancy.

Putting the anchor chain on this stand
should help prevent it from rusting

We have a lot more 'visitors' (read 'critters') than we did when we are at anchor. When we got back from India and Nepal, we found that thousands of ants had made multiple nests in our cockpit lockers. Several hours with a vacuum cleaner (and lots of slapping at ants crawling all over me) seems to have solved the problem, but we have to stay vigilant because they keep trying to invade by crawling up extension cords.

Less bothersome are the geckos that seem to be living everywhere on the boat. You never know when one will come running out of an infrequently opened locker in the cockpit or on deck. They have to be nimble to dodge the many crows that randomly swoop in and under the boat. We can hear the geckos chirping at night and their football-shaped poop appears in random spots (it is surprisingly big for creatures so small). Apparently, we should be cleaning that shit up.

The 'rainy' season so far has meant lots of storms that seem bound for us, but usually veer off. So it isn't as wet as it could be, but it's wet enough. Our corner of the boatyard (mostly windless and a bit boggy from the rain and being next to the sink that the painters use) can have a lot of aggressive mosquitoes. The pine trees that line the back of the boat block out most of the wind and constantly shed long needles that wedge themselves everywhere.

So we have no idea how long things will take, but I feel more content than in past haul-outs. Perhaps our trip to Nepal has brought out my inner Buddhist. Or maybe I have finally accepted that this is what it means to own a boat. On second thought, it's probably just the Xanax kicking in.* 

*Just joking, of course. Don't do drugs, kids. And stay in school.

Thursday, May 23, 2019

Everest Base Camp Trek with Kids

Spoiler Alert: Yep, we made it.  Everest Base Camp
When we first threw out the thought of doing the Everest Base Camp Trek to Conrad (12) and Mark (11), they thought it was a great idea. At various points during the hike they certainly had reversed that initial opinion, but at the end felt that they had accomplished something big. We did some research before deciding to go and there were different schools of thought about whether it was a reasonable goal for pre-teen kids.

View of Kathmandu, Nepal from
Swayambhunath Temple ('Monkey Temple')
The bottom line is that it really depends on the kids. Our boys have lived at sea level for their entire lives (and literally on the sea for most of that time)--but they are pretty active and generally fit. Also, the incidence and severity of altitude sickness is no greater in kids, so there was no medical reason that would prevent the kids from going. We all needed to get our legs in shape, though. Our training consisted of long walks (a.k.a. "death marches" from the kids' perspective) in the tropical heat and humidity, which is quite different from climbing thousands of feet at altitude. But in the end, with a couple extra days for acclimatization, it was enough.

Our first day on the trail, we ran into another family that had successfully finished the trek with a similarly-aged boy. We even saw a family with a baby in a carrier (in the lower reaches of the valley) and someone else mentioned a father carrying his 4-year old up the final bits of the trail. We saw a couple of teenagers but our kids were the youngest we saw during our time up on the mountain. 

The kids were apparently a rare enough sight that several tea house operators gave them special treats (Pringles and candy bars, which are valuable up there) and other hikers were very encouraging.

We took 10 days to reach Everest Base Camp and 3 days to descend back to Lukla. Many hikers do the whole thing in 10 days, but we needed the extra time to get used to the altitude.


Stupa at the top of Swayambhunath

We decided not to hire a guide or porter--partly to save money, but mostly so we could go at our own pace and to change our agenda as needed. However, this meant the kids needed to carry their own clothes and sleeping bags, which most folks don't (at least 90% of hikers were using porters and only carried a small day pack). But the kids managed the extra weight and going it on our own turned out to be a good decision for us because we needed the extra time. 

We had considered extending the trek and visiting Gokyo Lakes as well but decided against it due to conditions at Chola Pass and how we were feeling. Since we were there during the second busiest time of the year for trekking, it's pretty easy to figure out which way to go: just follow the horde of tourists, porters, yaks, and donkeys (although you do have to pay attention--a couple trekkers we met ended up in Pheriche when they meant to go to Dingboche).

Getting from India to Kathmandu


Due to Matt's bout of food poisoning, we missed the bus that goes from Varanasi to Kathmandu (it runs every two days) and hired a car instead. Our particular driver and car turned out to be a bad choice (partly our fault, we didn't check for working AC (yep, none), his vehicle didn't seem able to go faster than 50 km/hour, and the route he followed was 3 hours longer than Google's recommendation). By the end, we were all dehydrated. Matt was lightheaded and on the verge heatstroke, laying down outside the Nepali Immigration Office.

We managed to get checked out of India and into Nepal (make sure to bring U.S. dollars for your Nepali visa) and spent the night at a hotel at the border. Things felt a bit calmer in Nepal--the spirit of the people seemed gentler somehow--and the kids and I had an inexpensive meal while Matt recuperated in the air-conditioned room. Later that night, Conrad threw up his Ramen noodles, so we were afraid he had gotten what Matt had.

The next day, we skipped the bus and hired another car to take us to Kathmandu, so that we could stop if needed if Conrad felt bad. As it turns out, he was fine, but there would be more vomiting to come on the winding roads in Nepal and India.

We made it to Kathmandu and spent a few days finding sleeping bags to rent and getting our flights to Lukla arranged. Hotel staff helped us get our flights arranged. At $1490 US for the four of us, it was the single biggest expenditure of the trip (although altogether food costed more).

Kathmandu


We stayed just outside of the busy Thamel district. Every other shop seems to be selling knock-off gear purporting to be from The North Face (locally known as "North Fakes"). Besides that, there were restaurants, hotels, souvenir shops and a few convenience stores. We hunted around for sleeping bags to rent and settled on the shop pictured above.

We were able to rent four brand new bags and buy three trekking poles for about $50 USD, (not including a $40 USD security deposit for the bags). The bags were rated to minus 10 degrees C, which is the minimum recommended rating for the EBC, but the down filling seemed a bit sparse in some areas and the rating was dubious. However, every tea house on the mountain provides an extra blanket and with the temperatures we had, the bags were plenty warm (sometimes too warm).

There are plenty of inexpensive knock-off items that are good enough to last for several weeks trekking (and the Gore-tex material seems real enough). Based on the weather forecasts, we bought a few items that we hadn't brought along with us, such as rain pants and heavier gloves. We chose not to bring down jackets and didn't feel that we needed them, but we were also lucky that the weather was not as cold as it had been the previous week.

We also took out what seemed like a ton of cash to use on the mountain--there are very few places that take credit cards. There is an ATM in Namche Bazar, but it reportedly doesn't always work, charges high fees, and limits the amounts you can withdraw.

Durbar Square (Kathmandu)

Packing List

We were carrying all our own stuff, so we were brutal about editing down what we took. Our hotel allowed us to leave a bag of unnecessary items with them until our return. Here's what each of us brought:

  • sleeping bag
  • waterproof shell jacket
  • fleece jacket
  • long thermal underwear (top and bottom)
  • rain pants
  • t-shirts (1 to wear and 1 extra)
  • long hiking pants
  • underwear (1 to wear and 1 extra)
  • sun hat
  • warm hat
  • gloves and liners
  • hiking boots (to wear)
  • socks (1 to wear and 1 extra)
  • flip-flops
  • baby wipes
  • toilet paper (1 roll each)
  • water bottle/Camelbak
Matt and I also carried trekking poles and the following extras for the family. We ended up getting the kids some poles on the mountain.
  • UV water purifier and batteries
  • flashlights and batteries
  • medications
  • compass and map
  • first-aid kit
  • Kindle, camera, phone and chargers
  • playing cards (there is a lot of downtime)
  • sunscreen
  • toothbrushes and toothpaste
  • hand sanitizer
  • soap and shampoo
  • camping towel
  • snacks (you are going to want some trail mix or Snickers on the mountain and we didn't want to pay $5 for a candy bar)

Day 1 - Flight to Lukla and on to Monju

200 meters down, 1050 m up, 6 hours (1.5 hour break)


We found out when we arrived in Kathmandu that in April (the month we would be starting our trek) due to maintenance at the airport in Kathmandu, there would be no flights to Lukla from Kathmandu. This meant we would have to drive five hours on a winding mountain road to Ramechhap, which ends up being over halfway there by the time you're done.

Bleary-eyed, we left the hotel at 2:30 a.m. We tried to catch up on our sleep in the bus, but it was difficult with your head hitting the side window as the vehicle jolted around turns. It was better that everyone mostly slept, as motion sickness was not the issue that it would become on our ride back.

I'm pretty sure this is the view from
every movie you see where the plane crashes
into the mountain and only the dog survives.

When we finally arrived at Ramenchhap airport, chaos reigned. A large knot of people stood in front of a guy scribbling random information in a notebook and handing out boarding passes (mostly to the guides that knew how to work the system and get their clients checked in first). Since the flights are only half an hour, it's only a matter of time before you get a seat (unless the weather changes, which it often does in the afternoon). We finally had our bags weighed and got on a flight to Lukla. 

Lukla has the reputation as one of the most dangerous airports in the world (rapidly changing weather, a steep and short runway, and no air traffic control all add to the fun). The week before, a plane crashed on takeoff and the wreckage was still sitting next to the runway. Fortunately, our flight was uneventful, though two of the passengers needed the barf bags (not our boys--they only seem to get car sick).

The blue and orange tarp next to the plane
on the runway is 'covering' the wreck from the previous week

When we finally arrived in Lukla, it was late morning. We got the first of our permits and then set off.

Still smiling at this point.

The trail out of Lukla starts with a steep downhill, which you know is going to be bad news when you're coming back (and it was). We saw some unhappy faces on hikers heading back to Lukla.

We made it to Monju but had to take a break a few hours into our hike. Conrad got a bad headache, so we stopped at a tea house and rested for a bit. When we finally got to the Monjo Guest House, we were ready for something hot to drink. Monjo Guest House, like most of the guest houses we frequented, had gotten favorable reviews online. It paid to do the research (especially since Matt was the one who did it) because there are many options available and they are not all equal in quality.


A note about the tea houses. It had previously been the custom that the guest houses were free with the proviso that you bought your meals there (which is where they make most of their money). We budgeted accordingly. When we arrived, the guest houses had started charging 500 Rs. a room (or per person in some places and more at the higher elevations). In most cases, that would be about $10 US a night for us, which is fair enough but came as a bit of a surprise.

Dzos (yak-cow hybrid) on a bridge

Expenses (approximate exchange rate 1:100 USD to Nepali Rs.)

Lunch (Time for Tiffin Break): 1700 Rs.
Permit 1 (4 pp): 8000 Rs.
Monjo Guest House 1 night, 2 rooms: 1000 Rs.
Monjo GH food (fixed menu for 4, including multi-course dinner, beverage, and breakfast): 6500 Rs.


Day 2 - Monju to Namche Bazar

350 m down, 750 m up


Namche Bazar is a good-sized town. If you have forgotten anything, you can usually get it here. It is also one of the towns where the tea house rate is 500 Rs. per person. There is an ATM in town (we didn't use it) and the Khumbu Lodge takes credit cards.  Coming from Monju it's a relatively short day, but the final hill up to Namche is brutal.

Permit 2 (4 pp): 12,000 Rs.
Danphe Cafe (Namche): 500 Rs.

Day 3 - Namche Bazar (Acclimatization Day)


Statue of Tenzing Norgay at the top of the hill--
signage is somewhat ironic.



Pemba, the proprietor of the historical Khumbu Lodge,
and a really nice guy

We stayed at the Khumbu Lodge (3443 m), which, as the oldest lodge in town, is an institution in Namche. One morning, we ate breakfast next to David Gottler, who was attempting a summit of Everest without oxygen, and Daniel Aufdenblatten. A man identifying himself as Sir Edmund Hilary's  grandson came up and introduced himself to David Gottler. It was our brush with Everest fame, even if we didn't know who any of the people were before that.

Expenses

Danphe Cafe (free phone charging): 1200 Rs.
German Bakery (free charging): 1000 Rs.
Khumbu Lodge Food and Accommodation (2 nights): 24,140 Rs.

Some examples of items we ate, which was pretty typical of menu choices at all the tea houses: potato-cheese momos, Sherpa stew, pizza, and spaghetti with cheese. All the cheese is Yak cheese, which we liked. There was also fried rice, chow mein, curry, and dal bhat. We drank a lot of hot tea because the tea houses are only heated sometimes when the stove is lit (with yak dung at higher elevations). 

Day 4 - Namche Bazar to Tengboche

3860 m. 350 m. down, 750 m up. 4 hours.


We stayed at the Tengboche Guest House and were lucky to get a room there or anywhere in Tengboche.  Tengboche is a pretty small place and tends to be a pinch point for trekkers. Several travelers had to go to the next town. The food was good and the dining room was cozy. We visited the Monastery and were able to see the daily prayer session.


One of our rooms at the Tengboche Guest
House. The small hut with the grey door
is one of the toilets (Turkish)

Outside the monastery

The dining area at the Tengboche Guest House

Tengboche Guest House Food and lodging: 10,200 Rs.

Day 5 - Tengboche to Dingboche

4410 m. 70 m. down, 580 m up. 4 hours.

Mountain view from Tengboche. The weather pattern
was clear most mornings with clouds rolling in later.

We would take off early most mornings to take advantage of the clear weather. The little rain we saw was in the afternoons and we were usually off the trail by then. We were fortunate, as hikers the week before had rain and snow.


We stayed at the Snow Lion Lodge, which felt like home by the time we left. Mingma Yangji Sherpa runs the place and does a lot to reduce their impact on the environment, including using solar panels. Her staff uses solar cookers that work incredibly well. Her family also runs the pharmacy and delicious French Bakery next door.


The food was slightly higher priced due to their use of alternative energy, but was some of the best we had on the mountain. The Sherpa stew was excellent and I highly recommend the Veg burger, which comes with a generous portion of fries.

There were many beautiful and friendly dogs on the trails.

There is plenty of water at this location and, as we went higher up the mountain, we came to appreciate the fact that they provided sinks with soap, as well as the general cleanliness.

They also take credit cards.

The solar cookers get hot really fast.

French Bakery Cafe: 450 Rs.

Day 6 and 7 - Dingboche (Rest Days)


We were only planning to take one acclimatization day in Dingboche but Mark started to feel sick when we got there. He generally felt bad and had a hard time just walking. We started Mark and Conrad on a half dose of Diamox twice a day. He woke up feeling sick in the middle of the first night and we thought for sure we would have to descend, but he was fine the next morning. We took another rest day after that to be sure he was okay before continuing.


French Bakery and Cafe (free charging): 1,000 Rs.
Snow Lion Lodge (3 nights): 25,790 Rs.



Day 8 - Dingboche to Dughla/Thukla

4620 m. 280 m up. 2 hours.


We stopped an extra day in Dughla to give Mark more time to acclimate (most climbers go directly from Dingboche to Lobuche). The hike was 2 hours of straight climbing and Mark had a hard go of it. He made it though and was fine when it was over.

Stay to the mountain side of passing yaks
so you don't get pushed off the mountain.
Also stay clear of those horns. Although rare, 
more than one climber has been gored.

We stayed at the Yak Lodge (there was no room at the other lodge in Dughla, which had been recommended). It was the first place we stayed that had not come recommended but as you get to the last couple of villages, your choices become more limited. 

The guys that ran it were very nice and the accommodations were similar to other tea houses. It was the last place that water was available to purify, but the scarcity of water was starting to show itself in the absence of sinks to wash your hands and limited water to flush toilets.

Yak Lodge: 8500 Rs. (as we climbed higher, our appetites decreased; some of us were happy with boiled potatoes, which they grow on the mountain)

Day 9 - Dughla to Lobuche

4910 m. 290 m up. 2 hours.


This was another short, but uphill day. These straight uphills were hard on Mark and Matt carried Mark's pack part of the way. But Mark made it through.

Memorials to fallen climbers above Dughla

We stayed at Hotel Mother Earth, next to the World's Highest Bakery. It was not our first choice, but it was fine. There was no water for purification and only bottled water for sale at 300 Rs. per liter. Matt did hunt down a small stream used by the locals and filled a few bottles (it took a long time). Even water for flushing toilets (done with a bucket and scoop) was scarce and brownish.

Hotel Mother Earth: 10,600 Rs.

Day 10 - Lobuche To Gorek Shep

5140 m. 250 m up. 2.25 hours.


We got to Gorek Shep early to make sure we would get rooms, which we did (though the boys and I shared a king-size bed and Matt was on a twin because the Himalaya Lodge was expecting a lot of trekkers).


Again, there was only bottled water available. 



After a quick snack of mint tea (1000 Rs. for a medium pot) and popcorn (400 Rs. for a small plate), we headed off to Everest Base Camp (5364 m, 200 m up and down, 1.5 hours each way). 

We spent the night in Gorek Shep and Matt and I woke before dawn to climb Kala Patthar (5550 m). We made it almost to the top but Matt had developed a "Khumbu cough" overnight and had a headache from the altitude so we descended. It was also freezing, so I wasn't too upset.

Himalaya Lodge: 8,300 Rs.

Day 11 - Gorek Shep To Pheriche

4240 m. 1450 m down, 50 m up. 5.25 hours.

After our early wake up in Gorek Shep, we had breakfast and then started down. Mark immediately gained some energy and was bouncing down the trail by the time we were back in Lobuche.  We took a slightly different route down and stayed in Pheriche instead of returning to Dingboche.  

Himalayan Hotel was one of the nicest places we stayed on the mountain and the food was good.  There was a good talk about altitude sickness given by one of the volunteer doctors that mans the Himalayan Rescue clinic there. The boys bought some winter hats from Himalayan Rescue, which should come in handy on the boat (just kidding).

Himalayan Hotel: 9,400 Rs.

Day 12 - Pheriche to Namche Bazar

1300 m down and 420 m up. 9 hours (45 minutes for lunch in Tengboche)

This was a long day!  And it wasn't all downhill either.  As you get below treeline, the trail starts crossing a number of the rivers in the area.  Each time you cross a river, you need to descend from the ridge or hillside you are walking on, walk over the wobbly suspension bridge, and then hike back up the other hillside.  Some of the descents/ascents are quite long (I'm looking at you, hill just below Tengboche), taking more than an hour to go down and up, while not covering much lateral distance.

At least we had the Khumbu Lodge to look forward to at the end of  the day. A hot shower and more oxygen in the air made everyone feel better!


Besides making way for yaks, donkeys and horses,
trekkers have to make way for porters carrying big loads.


School's out!

Tengboche Lodge (lunch): 2,450 Rs.
Khumbu Lodge: 10,000 Rs.

Day 13 - Namche Bazar to Lukla

50 m down, 250 m up (big climb at end). 7 hours (no breaks).


We were hoping to get a flight out that afternoon, so motored on all morning and into the afternoon.  By the time we reached Lukla we were all pooped. The flight didn't happen, (apparently almost all of the afternoon flights--if they can fly at all--are cargo flights).  In hindsight, we should have stopped for lunch.

Everest Coffee Cafe: 3,340 Rs.
Northface Himalaya Resort: 4,200 Rs.

Our flights were scheduled for May 3 but we were able to get them rescheduled for 11 am on May 2 (the day after we arrived in Lukla). We got to the airport early in hopes of getting an earlier flight, but all the flights were full. Flights earlier in the week had been cancelled due to weather and many passengers were waiting to get out. 

As our flight time approached, we were given boarding passes, but then all flights stopped. The airport was closed due to high wind. A Sita Air employee confidently informed Matt that we would get out--this happened all the time and the wind would die down by 1 p.m. 

Of course, the weather usually turns poor in the afternoon in the mountains, so we were envisioning being stuck in Lukla indefinitely--especially with a cyclone brewing in the Bay of Bengal that was forecast to bring ugly weather to Lukla for the next few days.

Shortly after 1:30 p.m., a Tara Airlines plane (not our airline) landed and took off and then a Summit Airlines plane (also not ours). After a short while (that seemed like forever), a Sita Air plane (ours!) landed. We quickly boarded and took off. As we landed in Ramechhap Airport, the pilot told us that Lukla airport was closed once again.

Everyone made it safely down the mountain. This was not a given. Besides the dangers of altitude sickness, the risk of falling off the trail is real. Our first day at the beginning of the trek, we witnessed one woman who was climbing back up the side of the trail after falling off. Luckily she caught some branches on the way down. Around the same time, another man reportedly fell off the trail to his death on his way down to Namche.

Ironically, after 130 km of  hiking without incident, on the shuttle bus ride back from Ramechhap Airport to Kathmandu, Matt badly sprained his ankle in a restaurant along the way (no building codes = lots of weird drop offs and 2" differences in concrete slab heights). Conrad also lost his lunch on the winding ride and we spent a good portion of the ride stomping roaches that were overrunning the van and crawling on the passengers (surreptitiously, because a couple of the Buddhist passengers near us were against killing them). When we got back to Kathmandu, we were ready for a rest.


Crossing back into India at the border. We had
to walk the 500-meter stretch a few times because
we missed the Nepal Immigration check-out point.

We bought an Ncell SIM card because we heard it had the best reception on the mountain. Past Tengboche, we never got a reliable data signal so we didn't use the phone much. There is WiFi available for purchase at most of the tea houses, but we didn't feel the need to purchase it.

All in all it was a great experience for all of  us.  The Himalayas are just so much more 'mountain-y' than the Rockies or even the Alps. It was spectacular to be able to stand in their midst.