Everest Marathon Nov~Dec. 2007
Way back at the start of 2007 Mary got a notion she wished to mark her fourth decade with a memorable event and so we signed up for the Everest Marathon. As the trip approached I caustically reminded her whose idea this had been as the expense of vaccinations, kit, visa, more kit, extra travel costs and spending money mounted to probably half as much again of the initial entry fee of £2000 each. It became a real pain in the neck until at last mid November we set off with huge (new) bags bulging at the seams with -20 sleeping bags and cold weather gear.
The trip is organised by Diana Penny Sherpani, part battleaxe, part school-marm, part charming funny lady, who was looking very hassled and had no time for pleasantries when we met for the first time at Heathrow. A day later and we all regrouped in the colonial style Hotel Shanker, Kathmandu: like something from the days of the Raj probably last modernised in the 1970s, but it was the last comfortable warm place we would stay during the following 3 weeks. That night we bumped into Tom and Richard, excellent company from the Isle of Man, and had a few recovery beers and a laugh about the situation we found ourselves in. Little did they realise they were about to climb on the D&V roller coaster for 3 weeks of puking and shitting with an occasional cough/cold and twisted ankle thrown in for good measure. Diarrhoea and Vomiting is commonplace in Nepal. I think because there is inadequate sanitation and the tap-water would kill a horse. The typical case is fast and furious for a couple of days then complete recovery.
While in Kathmandu we visited the monkey temple which was an indescribable mix of religion, souvenir shops, monkeys, dogs, incense, curious architecture, beggars, street traders, shamens and prayer flags. Some witchcraft did seem to be in practise (lighting of candles and throwing of rice,) but largely this was a tourism event. Like a lot of Kathmandu, levels of filth were high and you'd be advised to keep a hand on your wallet, but I found the over-ripe visual cacophony and splendour intoxicating. The sun shone nearly constantly and there was an admirable freedom of movement between the dogs, monkeys and people and everyone seemed to get along fine. Not that you would want to mess with the monkeys.
The rest of the day began to drag by comparison as we toured other temples, the only buildings of note in a massive city of sprawling urban decay and intense noise. Some people found Kathmandu to be an unspeakable toilet of a city (to paraphrase) but I found the visual spectacle totally amazing - though sometimes best seen from behind the protective window of the tour bus: an acre of laundry hung out in colour co-ordination, 2 dead dogs on a scrap heap, a whole family of 5 on a motorbike, a shop with a goat's head on the table out front, filthy kids playing in the street. Every 10 seconds a different startling image and an inch of dust over everything. Infant mortality is 35% I overheard someone say which I think whittles out the weak and leaves a city full of more hustle and bustle and determination than you would ever want. (Having Googled to check, infant mortality in Nepal was only 6.5% in 2002 having been as high as 20% in 1960. Last time I believe that Canadian source of misinformation.) As the street traders began to hound us Mary and I headed off through the teaming streets in what we hoped was the right direction, until eventually we dared ourselves to get a rickshaw ride back to the hotel. It was lively as the traffic is often just a free for all with flashing yellow lights at junctions that mean “come ahead if you think you're hard enough,” and the four streams of traffic race around each other.
A "lady" stretches prior to the Fun Run.FIRST BLOOD (Blisters).
Next day the Fun Run. Driven to a park then an hour up a very rutted dirt track. We were all in fancy dress and one of the 4 New Zealand fresians had to pee out the back window of the bus we were on, while it crawled up the course down which we were to run (while others took photos.) It struck me this was ideally suited to my strengths: a nice short 6 or 7 miles nearly all downhill and on bumpy off-road trails. I was nearly alone in warming up beforehand, while others took photos of the distant snowy peaks. At the off, Angela M and I headed to the front and never looked back getting to the buses at the bottom in under 45 mins. It was a delightful run through the trees to the calls of monkeys or parakeets with the sun warming the cool day. I trashed my feet but knew I had loads of time to recover.
Here comes Lukla.FLIGHTS of FANCY (Running out of Lukla.)
Day 5 and we are given an alarm call at 4am so that we can sit in Kathmandu Airport for 4 hours until our twin otter 16 seater leaves at 10.30am. I can't believe this was the best option (or handled at all well) as other parties seemed to arrive after and leave before, but we weren't given an option. However the flight was really stunning and after flying through a mountain pass we landed on a steeply raked airstrip on the side of a mountain. It was beautifully handled by the teenage co- pilot. Planes land there every 10 minutes, deposit their contents, load up, then turn around and zoom back down the hill taking off before the end of the runway. Its compulsive viewing.
We begin the trek, which is so tied in to the essence of the race in 20 days time, that the two can't really be separated. What shreds of good health you retain during the ordeal of the walk-in will determine how fast you can walk (or maybe even run) during the marathon. The fresh air and bright alpine scenery of Lukla is in stark contrast to the smog of Kathmandu and spirits are lifted to be on the move. Every mile or so along the well trod trail is a tea lodge serving hot lemon tea which is like Lemsip with sugar. We are encouraged to drinks loads to offset the dry air and altitude symptoms. When you move swiftly upstairs you get a blast of light-headedness. Lukla is 2860m above sea level or just under 10,000 feet, twice the height of the summit of Ben Nevis, then some. I smile when I think of this all happening miles up in the sky.
First night in the tents. Pretty splendid tents and the porters put them up in a field beside the lodge we eat in. The Sherpas cook our meals which are simple but have a fair amount of fried or deep fried contents. I think they must have been told to steer clear of local dishes. Instead of the anticipated curry every night we are given interpretations of western food featuring a lot of potatoes and “cabbage” and delicacies such as spam and tinned frankfurters. Initially this is okay but begins to wear thin after 3 weeks. I would have preferred curry. Often warm fruit salad for desert which in the cold is more welcome than it sounds. And gallons of tea, lemon tea, and hot chocolate. I drank more tea in those weeks than in the last 20 years.
Did this make me feel guilty? No - too busy gasping for air.There are 6 medics along and we were given talks about altitude sickness (and personal hygiene); not so much how to avoid it as what to anticipate. I kept a diary every day and it says already “Dozens going down with D&V incl. Doctors.” That evening we were introduced to our first really squalid toilet, pretty much a stinking cupboard over a hole into an open sewer. I took a torch and headed into the woods. Of course all that fluid intake meant trips out the tent in the night. The downside was a struggle out a fleece liner and sleeping bag, put on shoes or sandals, then a discreet walk in the dark as far as you could be bothered away from the tents. The upside was an often mesmerising view of the heavens with the milky way and millions of stars visible from one horizon to the other as you shivered in the sub-zero temperatures. One occasion I watched a satellite slowly track across the sky, another, a shooting star blitzed across the panorama.
TO EVEREST AND BEYOND
We progressed up to Namche Bazaar, a small town nestled in the crook of an elbow between hills, full of shops that put their wares on stalls in the street, many of them full of fake western-labled outdoor gear (from China) at a fraction of the price of the real items, much very tempting.
The view out the window from our room in Namche
Lemon Tea and Postcards in Namche
Approaching Everest View Hotel.We visited the Everest View Hotel (3,800m) which had views of Everest and Ama Dablam. The view was great but the service was dreadful: an hour for an omelette to arrive. In fact this kind of service was commonplace. The first lodge we stayed in, in Namche, prepared porridge two bowls-full at a time. Made you want to go into the kitchen and get their biggest pot off the wall. This lack of practical application was part of the Nepalese psyche. The whole country is freezing after 5pm and all they have to heat a lodge is a yak-dung burning stove with a vertical pipe that takes the smoke (and about 75% of the heat I'd guess) out the roof. Why don't they run a pipe round the building from the stove? The rooms for rent in a lodge are below freezing and more basic than you can imagine. All the locals gathered round the stove when they could, so its not like they don't mind the baltic weather. Time and again you would see this lack of practical application. Some trekkers chose to see the rural ways of the locals as a romantic idyll somehow unspoilt by modern trends, however I for one would have welcomed a dvd player and widescreen tv in every lodge (not to mention hot shower and proper toilet) to pass the long afternoons and evenings where the only entertainment was to read by headtorch or watch the Kiwis play cards. With an oxygen starved brain I didn't really feel up to reading most nights but really enjoyed listening to an mp3 player.
Ama DablamYAK CULT.
We ran the Thamo Loop the following day. With only 20 miles between Gorak Shep and Namche the route has to find 6 more miles to qualify as a marathon. This is done by going just over 3 miles to Thamo and back. The track is hilly and is harder on the way back than the out, making a deeply unpopular finish to the course. This became apparent while running it. Again Angela and myself were out front along with Isle of Man Tom, a fell runner who showed himself to be very capable. I found a trial jog the day before, descending from the Everest Hotel, nearly impossible but with just 24 hrs acclimatisation I was able to run all but the uphill sections, though it did make you gasp
Carved and painted stones were commonplace as were the ubiquitous tea flasks.Over the next few days we got into the pattern of rising early (Sherpas bringing bed-tea to wake us up, sometimes wearing only sandals over bare feet when the ground was covered with a deep frost,) then travelling up country past Khumjung, Dole and Machermo to arrive at Gokyo (4791m). This was part of an intelligent acclimatisation plan before we retraced our steps most of the way back down to Namche to turn towards Sarnassa and begin up the 20 mile trail to old Everest Base camp at Gorak Shep (5184m). This was the route we would run down on race day.
Expert dry masonry work made our trip easier.
On the right the turquoise lake beside Gokyo, on the left the glacial morraine.However back up at Gokyo we had the opportunity to climb a small hill Gokyo Ri (5360m subsiduary summit). I had been pretty desperate the previous day with a cold I had picked up. I felt I had been watching the trek through a helmet-cam rather than actually being there. Mary had slowly coaxed me up a trail I felt had taken 4 hours but I think only took half that. I knew I was in bad shape because I wasn't getting the camera out to snap the amazing scenery. Some painkillers helped and also Tom and Richard, (who were going through hell with D&V) got us out of the pokey lodge we should have been eating in that night and we splashed out in a restaurant in Gokyo. It was a good change from the cramped confines of some of the smaller lodges we had been squeezed into for meals as well as a welcome change of diet. The smaller lodges had inevitably promoted the bugs flying around - I felt my cold had almost certainly been one that Adrian - our team leader - had arrived with on day 1. He had been in the country longer than everyone else; arriving early to do the Annapurna Circuit, getting some altitude acclimatisation in early, but also picking up a cold. Adrian had a proud boast that he has never had to stay in a lodge, always managing in the tents, but I felt if he had taken a couple of nights in a lodge he may have thrown off the cold and poor health that dogged him the whole trip culminating in a DNF on race day. When I felt the cold that I had was getting worse and turning into a cough and bad chest I spent the next 2 nights renting a room in a lodge, which although unheated and draughty, was dry in the morning and not frost covered like the inside of the tents. It stopped the decline and although I never really entirely shifted the cold, I was able to run.
Derek after a long slog up Gokyo Ri.
Everest from Gokyo Ri.After a mild drama when Adrian collapsed at breakfast we went up the next-door hill. The climb up Gokyo Ri was a slow business. Perhaps a glimpse into the future. I felt like an eighty year old taking 50 steps then waiting for my breath to catch up. After an age we got to the top and I realised if there were any up hills in the race I was stuffed. Great views from the top. We stayed for nearly an hour hoping we were acclimatising. After coming down the hill we had lunch then headed back down to Machermo.
Ama Dablam from KhumjungDay 14 was another running day. The third of only 4 during the 25 days we were away. We were to run down to the tea house at Mong La before Khumjung where we would be able to buy a hot shower - a proper hot shower not just a bucket of hot water poured through a colander in a makeshift bathing hut. The first in about 10 days! We had to survive with Wet Wipe bed baths mostly. Really enjoyed stretching my legs. Since the white group and yellow group didn't set off at the same time we couldn't really monitor the other groups' fitness so it was just myself and Tom heading the field. Tom went over on his ankle early on which blew up in size and he had to walk the rest of the day. I caught up with Craig Mattocks the eventual (non-Nepalese) marathon winner who at one point caught his foot on a boulder and nearly went headlong into another. (I have to say that I didn't really count the Nepalese entrants in the actual marathon since they hadn't spent the previous 3 weeks with us. Also it was as about a foregone conclusion as it would have been equally in our favour to challenge them to a swim or cycle.) The trails underfoot were mostly pretty good for running - dry dusty rutted dirt paths with stones and boulders to jump over. However we were to find the first few miles of the marathon course quite testing with more in the way of stones and boulders, technical descents and unpleasant twists and turns. To say nothing of the up hills.
Near Tengboche is this view of the race route from about halfway - the white path in the middle contouring round the hills. Unfortunately there is a thousand foot drop to the river and climb between the foreground and the path in the distance.
After the run we walked to Khumjung and the feted bakery which failed to live up to its reputation, taking 40 minutes to produce a plate of very ordinary packet soup and a very dry pastry. (How come nobody thinks Tupperware would be a good idea in this very dry air - the number of dessicated pastries I had in this country...) Other orders late or awol. However the showers and lower altitude raised everyone's spirits (except Adrian who was ill in his tent and Dr. Darren had to do the briefing,) and we enjoyed a bigger lodge.
Next day we headed up the race route past Tengboche an amazing monastery that may have sold out slightly as it is surrounded by materialistic shops, cafes, bakery (more dry cake) and a cyber café, as well as the stinkiest toilet this side of Nirvana. Maybe Buddhism can incorporate this apparent contradiction with a shrug of those inscrutable golden shoulders. I'm not even going to mention the taped chanting, instead lets focus on the marvellous paintwork and beautiful surroundings - what a place to gather your spiritual requirements.
No holds barred on the paintwork budgetTHE DISCREET CHARM OF THE NEPALESE
Onto Deboche (3757m) then next day Dingboche (4343m). Maybe it was the gain in height or waking up to a heavy frost on the inside of the tent but I felt lousy and when we got to Dingboche, which wasn't even on the race route, it was a small grotty place and us in a small grotty lodge, so we booked a room and I cursed everything there was to curse. I think the only reason we stayed here was a deal between our sirdar and the lady who ran the lodge. In a world without telephones and email it was difficult to know how anything got booked ahead of arrival. Much tiredness and crankiness. My diary reads “ Things to do in Dingboche when you're dead.” Over night I woke up with shortness of breath and told Mary as I was beginning to get quite panicked. She had me sit up, which improved matters, I slowly felt better and slumped gradually back down to a horizontal sleep. I was now concerned I wouldn't even be starting the race. Next morning I felt better and had 2 bowls of Hot Porris. The sun came out from behind Ama Dablam at 9.13 and we got bowls of hot water from the Sherpas to do laundry. Marathon day approached and so we got a safety talk pre-sunrise and a group photo session that nobody was very pleased about. Lots of folk were unwell and nearly everyone was tired. We progressed to Lobuche stopping at Duglha for a lunch of catfood, potatoes and (on the same plate) pancakes made from left-over chocolate marble cake mixture. Lobuche (4930) is another wild west frontier settlement and although the lodge was quite spacious and elegant it was run by a Bond villain with a cold iron fist. This hard hearted vixen was so brutal and without warmth (yet not unnattractive to look at,) it was comical. Presumably the altitude had turned her.
If Mary is looking a tad cautious about this crossing its probably because the wind is up and if you fell into the roaring freezing water you would almost certainly die in about 4 seconds.
Tom, Richard C, PB, and Helen. Background: monuments to dead folk.
Near Pheriche with Helen, another Scottish entrant. There were many Scots on the trip; by far the most pleasant and intelligent group.
Left to Right: Hill, Icefall, Richard G, Jenny, Adrian, Jim, Rock, Mary, Hill.Breakfast: 2 bowls of rice. Like rice pudding but without flavour until you add sugar and salt then if you're lucky a big spoon of muesli, or in this case frosties. After a shave and a walk I had a lie down and woke up with a headache and the snow was falling. Headaches are commonplace though there was a general denial about any kind of altitude sickness. “I had a headache and fell over but its just the cold.” “I've been throwing up all day but its just something I ate.” etc. The marathon medal is now within grasp but could easily be snatched away and anyone could be sent home empty handed. With a headache.
Possibly Nuptse - its difficult to remember what with the altitude.
Lobuche. Home sweet home.
Walking up the road to Gorak Shep
BIGGEST DUMP IN NEPAL.
Next day and we have to pass a medical and kit-check in Lobuche before moving up to Gorak Shep. After a listen to our lungs we all pass. The snow flurries outside but the sirdars think it won't be any worse up the road so we set off towards the startline. Its quite a long walk but the mountains look spectacular and ferocious with the wind whipping snow off the tops. The last couple of miles are through rubbly unpleasant moonscape and we regularly check behind us to remember the race route. We get to Gorak Shep and its even worse than the last lodge, an inhospitable outpost on what feels like an alien planet. Everyone is staying in the lodge because of the weather. The Sherpas provide us with the best meal of the trip, appropriate for the day before the race and we sort out kit for the race, which we are obliged to wear or carry in daysacks on our backs. At some point in the night the comparatively clean and useful toilet gets a visit from a deluge and becomes untenable. Various folk are walking wounded with altitude sickness but I know who the real culprit was - he later admitted as much. This leaves us with toilet number two (if you'll forgive the pun) which is an outdoor job round the corner. This is of traditional design - a 2 storey shack with the upper just a platform with a hole in it. Below is usually a similarly sized lower storey which is the recipient of the business followed by a sweeping of the leaves or such, gathered and stored in the upper storey. This particular shack contained no such leaves to disguise the pile gathered in the lower section which due to the frozen environment had grown into an elegant five foot stalagmite and was in danger of reaching through the trap into the upper chamber. I was filled with conflicting emotions of repulsion and yet admiration for the random accidental construction of this terrible Tower of Babel, this horrific horn of plenty. But mainly repulsion. I contributed and left.
Finishing with a smile 7 and a half hours later.RACE DAY
Did some strides across the flat surface of what was probably a frozen lake. It took a long time to recover and get my breath. A good warning as the course went across the lake and up the side of the crater we were in. So don't rush it at this altitude. The NZs did a haka which seemed to work for them as they ran with a verve we hadn't seen much of earlier. And then with minimal fussing Mark set us off. I think it was 6.30am - the time being brought forward so those taking more than 11 hours wouldn't be running in the dark. I was unimpressed to be starting a marathon at this early hour and even less impressed that those who would be taking more than 11hrs should have felt qualified to come on such a trip. The emails from Diana in response to our applications, urging us to train harder and longer, had implied a certain minimum skill-base not terribly evident throughout the field.
The lady responsible for it all, DianaThe Nepalese (and possibly Queen Mudge,) set off at a sprint, the rest of us ran to the edge of the lake and walked up the rubble. I didn't push the pace for a change but waited to see how it went. It went poorly and slowly and then it dragged on for about 6 hours. What can I say? I would have liked to have run this strongly and finished with a smile on my face, but about halfway through there was a big hill up (about 1000 ft of climbing) which about finished me off and I walked pretty much every up-hill afterwards. And some of the flat stuff also. Tom caught up with me about this point and we spent the second half cursing the course and every following ascent. He got ahead during the Thamo loop before cramp reduced his lead to seconds. He should have been up there with the leaders but the trek had taken its toll. I was anxious not to drop any more places so kept up the dismal pace and finished shortly behind him about 6 hrs 11 mins. Diana was positioned at the finish and asked what we thought. I was pretty damning of the course and my performance. I didn't much care for it and wouldn't be doing it again. Ever! However with a bit of time to reflect I would venture this was a very memorable experience and if you are up for mountain marathons and long (long) days out in the hills (without proper toilets, showers and the technology of the last 2 centuries) then start saving. Next trip 2009.
This guy would bring us bed-tea, Hot Porris and Millik, and although he wore the same clothes from day 1 carried himself with a great deal of dignity unlike some on the trip.....
Just kidding - Mike and Steve were a hoot. First recollection of meeting Steve, he was coming out the bushes forlornly saying, "Hey lads, second day in a row I've crapped my pants."However the fun wasn't over yet. That night the Red Group were booked into possibly the most posh hotel in Namche which had ensuite showers and WOW porcelain toilets. Mary and I ate yak steaks (what do you mean vegetarian?) at the Everest Bakery then went to the Paradise Bar (which was even grottier than it sounds) and had some beers with Tom, Richard, Trafford and the NZs , wisely leaving before things deteriorated too much. Next evening at dinner industrialist brothers Mike and Steve, overcome by altitude sickness, paid for everyone's drinks. Then the following morning before sun-up we climbed the exceptionally steep hill behind Namche to get the helicopter ride back to Lukla. We climbed past a monument to the helicopter crash the year before (killing all on board). An experience we nearly revisited this year as the initial flight (with myself and Mary on board) took off vertically and swooping forwards to get momentum, sped up and just touched the ground with the front wheel, rotors just feet above the airstrip. It was a very scarey moment on the inside of the ancient Russian machine and I was exceptionally relieved to land 20 minutes later and get to the comparative safety of the 16 seater plane at Lukla which (after another long wait for the smog to lift at Kathmandu,) belts down the tilted runway before lifting off as the hillside drops away.
Death Trap.Back to Kathmandu and a long presentation ceremony during which mental tumbleweeds drifted past my minds eye, and reflections on what this trip was all about. Scenery largely. An opportunity to get to walk (and on occasion run) beside some of the most tremendous mountain views in the world. It was harder than I imagined - not in terms of lifting weights or jumping chasms - but in fighting off day to day boredom and dealing with routines that were not very pleasant for most of a month. Lack of variety was the killer, in activities and food. And doing it in the close confines of 30 folk most of whom were also tired and not in the best of health. This was a leveller. Those who might have started the trip laddish or noisy were, by the end, quiet and civil. It felt like we might have been on some reality TV programme - Big Brother meets Brat Camp - but I'm not sure exactly what we had done to deserve such retribution.
For the first week after the finish line I felt compelled to eat like a horse putting back on the pounds lost abroad. I also had Nepal dreams nearly every night. Neither good nor bad, I think I was just processing the experience. I also have a tendency to wake every morning about 6am though strangely there is never a Sherpa just outside the bedroom offering bed-tea.
Report Peter Buchanan
Photos Mary & Peterhttp://everest26.blogspot.com/2007_12_09_archive.html
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HIVNICX97Vo&feature=related
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hKG9ZcpqlIU&feature=relatedFirst URL to see Trafford's blog. Second to see video'ed sections of the race: start, middle finish. Third to see Lukla flight. Many other Lukla movies at youtube.
