One step at a time: my journey to Everest Base Camp
A few months back, my cousin sister asked if I wanted to go to Everest Base Camp (EBC). To be honest, I didn’t even know it was something that regular people like us could do. Naturally, it wasn’t on my list of things to do then (I should make that list someday).
At the time, my mom grew quite enthusiastic about it. She has been paying attention to her health the last couple of years and wanted to use this as an impetus to double down on it. Now, there was no further scope of deliberation for me.
Training
The EBC trek requires a mix of strength, stamina and endurance to prepare your body, lungs and heart to go uphill with a backpack at a moderate pace for a long period of time, even as oxygen starts to decrease eventually.
I began long-distance running in February—3 months before our start date—to improve my endurance on top of my usual strength training. I used to never like doing cardio much and was happy lifting weights instead. To compensate for this mental friction and give me an incentive to put on my running shoes (which are the same as my usual shoes btw, I was just going for a dramatic effect), I decided to run only in Cubbon park (usually only on a weekend) and distract myself with the greenery surrounding me.
It paid off—I enjoyed my first run so much that I looked forward to the next one all week. Soon, it became a social activity with friends joining in and new friends being made along with masala dosa becoming a necessary add-on to our post-run high. I tried my best to run at least one 10k per week—something I am going to continue doing even as EBC has come to an end.
A month before we left, I intensified my training.
I began running 2-3 kms after each workout in the gym as well, added Stairmaster sessions once or twice a week (10-30 mins at 100 steps/min) and adapted my strength training routine to focus more on leg, back and full-body workouts.
A comprehensive training plan can be found here.
The Trek
The EBC trek begins by flying from Kathmandu to Lukla (2860m), the gateway to Everest and one of the most dangerous airports due to its tiny runway and high elevation.
Little did we know that this will be our first biggest hurdle. Lukla airport is moody—it can quickly turn cloudy preventing any flights from landing there. We ended up waiting for 5 hours for the weather to clear up, all the while with our eyes glued on the live camera feed of Lukla airport, looking for signs of hope.
At first, people were patient. As time went on, one could sense the anxiety and frustration building up. Suddenly, a group shouted “hurray!” and took their bags past the security check. The momentary feelings of hope were quickly silenced when we were told they were taking a helicopter to Lukla by paying 400-500 USD per person.
During our last hour, out of desperation, we negotiated the helicopter ride (after repeated appeals to our SAARC brotherhood) down to 200 USD per person. “We will fly today”, remnants of the human illusion that somehow things will work out at the last moment.
On our way back to the hotel, the same car with the same people had a completely different energy. Still, we wanted to savor the day. So, we went around exploring the cute cafes of Thamel.
The prediction for the next day wasn’t encouraging and we had two options:
Reserve the earliest heli
Hope for the weather to clear up for the flights
We didn’t want to risk wasting another day and our itch to start climbing was reaching a nervous fervour. Heli it was—which still took its own sweet time to arrive, check us in and finally, fly.
After the last 24 hours, just reaching Lukla felt like a huge relief. At 7°C, we had to put on our fleece/down jackets and our beanies.
Our first stop was at a teahouse for lunch. We had already been “acclimatized” of the importance of “dal bhat” through the array of t-shirts lined up in the markets of Kathmandu with the (very practical) slogan “Dal bhat power 24 hour”.
Day 1
After lunch, the trek began. Our destination was Phakding, at 250m below Lukla. The trek was a fairly simple descent for the most part with a few flights of stairs interspersed.
In our daily lives, we often occupy small spaces that make us feel big and in control.
Out here, the illusion fades. You realise how small and insignificant we are. It is a liberating feeling. I was reminded of this quote by Naval:
The world has nothing to offer you. And you are free.
While walking, I didn’t think a lot about the future or the past—just focused on my steps and the beauty surrounding me.
After 2-3 hours, we arrived at the teahouse where we were going to stay for the night.
I grabbed a hot cup of coffee and sat outside in the garden. It felt cozy being back in the chill of the mountains.
Tibetan prayer flags fluttered nearby. I had seen them in a lot of places but never cared to ask their significance. But since ChatGPT, my curiosity knows no bounds. It explained how each color of flag stands for a different element—sky (blue), air (white), fire (red), water (green), and yellow (earth). They are hung high so the prayers they carry can blow away to spread good will and compassion. I found this to be a beautiful practice.
After reading a book for some time, I went back to the common area inside. We spent the rest of the evening chatting in our group of 6: My sister, our guide, an Indian-American couple, their guide and me.
Unfortunately, we decided against my mother joining this time to avoid taking any risk since I didn’t know the difficulty of the trek myself. Instead, I promised to take her again at some point once I am convinced of her fitness.
Our room was pretty good and even though I wasn’t as tired, I fell asleep like a baby.
Day 2
We assembled at 7:30 AM for our breakfast. I had a milk coffee along with toast and omlette—my only solace during the trip for my protein intake along with the protein bars I carried. I usually skip breakfast. So, it felt a bit uncomfortable to eat so much so early. But then, this wasn’t a regular day.
We were blessed with a sunny weather. Within a few minutes of walking, we had to remove the heavy layers we wore. It felt hot.
A significant landmark was the Tenzing Hillary suspension bridge—the higher of the two in the image below.
Upon reaching there, my sister pointed out how it doesn’t match the pictures that show a ton of white prayer flags tied all over. Turns out they had to be removed because they flew away and got stuck to the trees nearby causing pollution.
Since I fear heights, crossing it required a huge leap of faith. A few smaller bridges that came before this helped. But I noticed peak anxiety swelling up inside me upon reaching its center. The kind that makes even an atheist pray. The image below aptly describes my state of terror.
The last part of the ascent to Namche Bazaar, 3400m, was 500m steep and slow. As we crawled our way to the top, we met one gentleman on his way down. He smilingly said, “You are almost there. Just keep going. One step at a time”.
That momentary gesture by a stranger stayed with me for the rest of the trek.
It was refreshing to be in an overwhelmingly positive environment. There was no sense of competition—only encouragement.
Every one moved at their own pace. I think a big part of seeking the mountains involves a yearning to be in that endangered cluster of the world where the best of humanity still prevails.
Namche Bazaar was the last place in our journey where one could get any supplies since the options become limited as we go up. We stayed at a lovely teahouse named “8848”. The common area was decorated with flags from different countries, signed by various trekking groups. Everest Base Camp was the most common conquest.
We were told that the rooms have hot shower and they could turn it on for us. I thought they were making a warm gesture. Only when the bill came in the next morning did we realise that we were charged for it too (“no free lunch” reigns).
We stepped out to explore the Bazaar but a sudden hailstorm forced us back inside. By the time I consoled myself of another chance on our way down, it cleared up a bit and I raced out.
As I was scouting for snacks we could use at the top, a small group of children entered the store. One of them asked my name out of the blue and asked what I did for a living. He told me his passion was film making and is already making short films on YouTube. He also urged me to not do drugs. I thanked him for his advice, gave him my number, asked him to send me his channel and promised to watch his movie.
Back home, I opened his channel. To my surprise, his film was on drug abuse. I watched it till the end, in awe of how he had tackled a sensitive topic at such a young age.
I guess that is the beauty of travel. It exposes us to different kinds of people doing things beyond our imagination. It is an opportunity to step out of our bubble and let a little bit of the world inside. To leave us inspired and hungry for more.
Day 3
The next day was meant to be for acclimatisation. As we move to higher altitudes, the air pressure reduces—not a setup where our bodies operates well. But, given enough time, we can acclimatise to it. Since we had lost a day at the start of the trek and all of us were feeling fine, we chose to skip ahead to the next day.
First thing in the morning, we saw our first view of Everest from a view point. It is the tiny peak sticking out in the middle in the video below.
This view point deserved the label. We were surrounded by snowy peaks on all sides and our guide pointed out their names.
Both my sister and I called our parents to show them the spectacular view. I had never seen anything like it before. Little did I know how often I was going to repeat this statement.
At every stop, it was important to refill our water. Since bottled water was more expensive as we went up, we had to rely on tap water. Of course, we couldn’t just drink it. So, we carried tablets which purified the water within 30 minutes. I carried one Nalgene bottle along with a camel pack of 2L to continously sip on.
To account for the purification time delay, I had to time it well. I refilled the bottle and put the tablet in before we began to eat so that it was purified by the time we were done. Once it was ready, I transferred it to the camel pack and refilled the bottle with the tablet again.
It was another slow and long ascent which took us to the Tengboche Monastery, 3900m. During each ascent, I carried the mantra passed on by the stranger, “One step at a time”. Although we kept checking how much time was left, I tried to focus solely on my steps.
Donkeys were our friends, giving us a much-needed relief. Since nothing is available at the top, everything needs to be carried. Donkeys (unfortunately) play the role of the carrier. They can be found moving in herds. Once we saw a herd coming, we had to step on the safe side to let them pass. This gave us an opportunity to take rest.
Now, we got a much better view of what became one of our favourite peaks, Ama Dablam (6,812m).
The day ended with a descent down to Diboche where we stayed for the night. We were drained when we reached the teahouse—having clocked almost 25000 steps. Towards the end, my guide was trying to tell me the plan for the next day. Although I wanted to pay attention, my mind was not able to process his words. I just wanted to lie down.
The shower was gone from the bathroom but it had become ridiculously cold anyway. The kind where even touching the tap water burned.
The common area in the teahouses from this point up have a heater which all of us sat around. Basic things started becoming expensive:
Wifi: 600 INR per day, charging a phone: 300 INR, boiling water: 300 INR (1L), hot shower: 300 INR.
We noticed our porter was taking longer than usual to arrive. When he did, it was someone else. Our original porter got sick and went back. The new guy, Ekaraj, started all the way from Lukla in the morning, picked up our luggage from Namche and covered the entire journey in the same day. He was just 21 and looked like he was ready to do it all again. We were blown.
Day 4 & 5
Everyday, we just ate, slept and walked. It felt a bit weird to have ended the previous day with a heavy meal and to start the next day again with a calorie-rich breakfast. Being used to a schedule where I am constantly doing one thing or the other, this seemed very unnatural. At times, it made me feel guilty for not using my free time productively. I carried 5 books with me and read them when I could.
But my mind was not able to process any more data last night. I needed to shut my eyes. When I woke up, I didn’t feel as rested as I would have liked to. But we had a schedule to meet. For the ADHD brain, routines and schedules are a wonder. We crave it. So, I got up and started walking again.
The hike today was relatively simpler, which was a relief. We ended up having lunch at 10 AM and reached our teahouse in Dingboche (4400m) by 1:30 PM. We had to stay here for the next 2 days.
It also had a fantastic summer room where one could lie down and chill or read with a front view to a different side of Ama Dablam than before. We were relieved.
For me, this trek comes right after I have taken a career break to figure out my next step. One book that I have returned to, time and again, is Victor Frankl’s “Man’s search for meaning”. Every time I re-read it, I end up coming back with new takeaways. I spent a lot of time reading it during EBC, often reflecting on my life as I read through the pages. That’s the book I’m holding in the image before.
This was also the time when border tensions had escalated to its peak. I was feeling worried about my family and my friends. Checking in on a few of them helped a bit. Still, sitting with uncertainty, not knowing what lies ahead and feeling helpless about not being present with my mom was on my mind.
It instantly reminded me of how much we take for granted on a regular basis and helped me feel a bit more empathy for those whose lives are being ruined by wars, be it the one between Russia and Ukraine or the one that seemed imminent in our own home.
The next day was for acclimatization. We had no intention of skipping this one and neither could we. From here on, the final 2 days weren’t technically very hard. Our challenge was something different—breathlessness, caused by the lack of oxygen, especially with the tree cover gone.
Still, it wasn’t purely a rest day. We had to hike up Nagarjuna Hill, right behind where we stayed, and return. Flags are planted every 100m of elevation on the hill to help you choose how far you want to go.
Day 6
The next day, we set off for Lobuche—our last stop before D-day. The biggest hurdle today was reaching Thukla pass, a gradual uphill climb to 4830m. Along with being a stunning view point, it serves as a sober reminder of the dangers of attempting to climb Everest—a memorial site for those who died in the process.
I couldn’t help but wonder how someone must have come up all the way here to make sure their story was known. The deeply human instinct to want to preserve. To share. To remember.
By now, the breathlessness has kicked in. Even though the walk to the teahouse was a straight road, it felt really long and I got frustrated by feeling tired doing something seemingly easy.
Day 7
Today was D-Day, the day we set out for EBC.
First, we had to reach Gorakshep, 5164m, where we would stay the night. It was a long, mostly straight, walk with beautiful views to greet us.
I still remember the first time the base camp was in sight, even before we reached Gorakshep. We could see tiny, colorful camps, beside the majestic Khumbu icefall, at the summit of the Khumbu glacier.
It was hard to believe we were actually there. I haven’t been on any trek before this (beyond a few small hikes) and never saw myself as a climber. Still, in that moment, I could feel the thrill of glory just within reach. I couldn’t help but keep walking.
The video shows the Khumbu glacier. Yes, all of it is a glacier. The ice is just covered with rocks, stones and debris.
You can spot a few holes in the glacier. These holes are formed by ice melting unevenly under the debris. Eventually, these ice ponds absorb more heat than the surrounding rocks, accelerating the melting process, forming a hole in the glacier.
Right before we reached EBC, we saw Everest again. Much bigger and more gigantic than how we saw it before.
Seeing it from up close, you are bound to feel intimidated—to be in awe of its stature and gradeur. I couldn’t help but think about all those who even attempt to climb it and actually do. You might start to understand a little bit of why they do so, even with all its dangers.
Maybe the animal instinct to conquer something bigger than us takes over. It becomes bigger than everything else in your life. Our guides told us how these climbers often bid goodbye to their families in the same way a soldier does. The clouds floating around it gave it a kind of halo. No doubt the locals consider it a God.
Step by step, step by step, we finally made it. We reached Everest Base Camp. 5364m.
A wave of achievement washed over me. We could see the breathtaking Khumbu icefall right in front of us - the gateway to climbing Everest, riddled with crevasses and dead bodies. Its beauty hides its dark secrets. Once you are there, you are bound to get lost in the charm of the place.
It is natural to think that upon reaching there, one would want to be there for as long as possible. Instead, it feels closer to: “Great, this is beautiful. Let’s click some photos and head back home as quickly as possible”.
Living in severely congested rooms, not having clean bathrooms, running out of breath doing the simplest of chores, not being able to shower, not being able to connect to your loved ones, being deprived of sleep either because you can hear every movement of your neighbors owing to the thin walls of every room or due to your own state of nausea leaves you with a lot of appreciation for what seemed like a mundane life that you have left behind.
I became a little too eager and went ahead of the group at a faster pace. Everything went well until I twisted my leg and realised I was lost. I was able to recover soon but I was certain we did not come from the way towards which I was heading. There was no one. After looking around for a bit, I finally found a herd of yaks walking on a road above me. That was my cue. I practically climbed on top of rocks to finally return back on track.
Once we reached back to the teahouse, there was an air of celebration and relief in the atmosphere there. Every single table was full of smiling faces. And cards. There was a gentleman sitting next to us who was ready to drown himself in beer once he reached back to Kathmandu. We were all celebrating. In that moment, we were all together. In our joy, relief and anticipation.
This is a good time to express my gratitude to my sister for thinking of me to come with her, planning the whole trip, taking care of me every single day, checking in regularly even on the days we were not together (towards the end) and having supreme photography skills, the fruits of which can be seen throughout this post.
Day 8
All of us were more than ready to head back home the next day. Aiming to be ambitious, I asked him if it was possible to complete the entire descent in a single day (instead of the 3 scheduled days). He said if we left at 5AM, we could reach there by 5:30PM: 60+ km, ~2700m of net descent.
So, we left at 5.
By 9 AM, we reached Pheriche, the halt for the first day of the original schedule. Things looked promising. Little did I know that the problems were just about to begin.
I barely slept the previous night. Every time I tried, I felt out of breath. The room was claustrophic and I was restless.
After 25 km of walking, I started feeling sleepy. Literally. While walking.
I asked for a break and had some black coffee along with a protein bar I had saved up. In the last couple of hours, I had already twisted my left ankle 5 times and was afraid about how long can I go on. Whether the next misstep will leave me unable to walk. A blister developed beneath my right foot making every step hurt. All of this had slowed me down and it started playing on my mind as I sipped my coffee.
I didn’t want to start walking so soon but we had to leave. There was still a long road ahead of us. But I fired up my playlist of energetic bollywood songs and resumed our journey down. Within a few minutes, the caffeine started kicking in. I didn’t know I was so sensitive to it. Once it hit, I became laser focused—simultaneously focusing on my steps, keeping myself awake, ignoring my pain and matching my guide’s pace.
This continued for the next 4 hours until we were back to Namche, the halt for the second scheduled day of descent—40km, net elevation drop of ~2000m. The tree cover was back. I remember telling myself, “I love oxygen”.
At this point, I was completely drained of energy and every part of my body was hurting. My guide suggested we walk another 2.5 hours to Phakding so that we can reach Lukla the next day in 1-2 hours.
If not for my sister’s message asking me to not push myself to an extent where I might get injured, I would have probably gone with it. But I made it very clear that we need to stop now, even though it felt as if I was admitting to being weak by doing so.
Staying in a well-spaced room, taking a hot shower after so many days, not feeling out of breath made me fall asleep in a jiffy. A huge relief compared to the last few days. Coming back to Namche restored some sense of normality.
The next day it took us 3 hours and a lot of grind to reach Phakding, since my body was still pretty tired and my blister continued to hurt at each step. It made me wonder what my condition would have been if I hadn’t stopped the last night.
Slowly, step by step, inch by inch, at 2PM, we finally reached Lukla.
NOW, the trek was officially over. After 9 days of ascent and descent.
A few reflections
In our regular life, the idea of escaping to the mountains looks very appealing.
We hear stories of people having revelations. Naturally, we start expecting that from our own adventures. It would be a lie to say there wasn’t an undercurrent of thought that this experience might potentially shape the rest of my life in a meaningful way.
But I didn’t have any revelation. There wasn’t any “Aha” moment. But I did have one big realisation. I love doing hard things. I find it comfortable to be in a state where I am suffering for something that is meaningful to me. I feel miserable when things are easy. When life feels easy. I don’t know why I am this way—being at my best under pressure when the stakes are high.
As I head into my career break, I want to remember this lesson. I am not chasing pure happiness. One of the 4 Noble Truths discovered by Gautama Buddha is:
“Life is suffering”
It is futile to run away from it. This time, I am trying to find something worth suffering for. I want to try a lot of things over the break. Since I am an experiential learner, I need to do something to learn whether it resonates. The hope is that my experiments will make the real thing shine out!
Another thing that will stay with me is what I felt during the descent after I started struggling. I was afraid. Looking back, as strange as it might seem, I believe it wasn’t me who was taking my body down. At that moment, I was just a spectator. It felt like someone else was operating my body. I was simply letting it. It might sound spooky and mystical, but my aim here is to be honest about my experience. I don’t think I was alone.
A close friend, who is deeply spiritual, once told me how there have been many moments where he didn't know what to do or how to decide something, leaving him puzzled and stressed. But once he decided to surrender and let the God he believes in guide him, things worked out on their own. I am now trying to imbibe this surrender in how I live as well. Surrender to what, I don't know. I think I surrendered at that time too. Something else took over and got me home!
A few observations
Time and again, my experiences remind me that the world is bigger than we can possibly imagine. We are tiny, temporary specks of existence. I saw so many people living a completely different life than anything remotely resembling my own. From locals hauling 120 kgs of metal on the same trail we hiked with our 5 kg backpacks to an 80-year old crawling his way to EBC, you will never run out of inspiration.
As beautiful as the Khumbu valley is and as hospitable as the people are, they have their own dark secrets. For instance, there is a history of discrimination between how the guests, their guides and the porters are treated.
Earlier, porters weren’t even allowed to step inside the hotel where the guests stayed. Only now are they allowed to come up to our rooms to drop our luggage. They need to live in separate porter houses, often with 10-15 people crammed on the same bed, unable to sleep, with the looming odour of their shoes, barely getting a reasonable wage or the right amount of food required to sustain the physically intense nature of their jobs. I learnt this through a conversation with my porter during which it became very clear that everything I have today is already beyond his imagination for what he can hope to ever have.
Life isn’t easy for the guides as well. They aren’t treated well in teahouses unless they have a personal connect. Often, they might not even get a bed and have to sleep in the dining area out in the cold as there aren’t enough blankets to give them. When they do get a bed, it is often in a dorm and multiple people have to snug together. We were able to survive in that cold because of our sleeping bags but the guides have to carry their own luggage (they don’t get a porter) and can’t afford to carry the weight of a sleeping bag (2-3 kgs). Once they take us back to Kathmandu, within a couple of days or so, they have to start back up with a new client and ensure they never let it rub off that they are exhausted from the previous trip or sad because they haven’t been able to spend time with their families.
My word of advice
If you are considering going for EBC, I can share a few learnings from my experience.
Do not skip the training: If you don’t think you are fit, please don’t simply take your shot without adequate training. It is not simple by any stretch and not preparing adequately for it will leave you and your group at risk. If you are determined to go (and I urge you to), please train for it properly to build your strength, endurance and flexibility as highlighted at the start of the post.
Invest in the right gear: You are going to a very high altitude, where weather can drop to -15°C. If you don’t pack well or buy the right quality of stuff, you will surely regret it. Nothing is worth losing your health and well-being over. There are a ton of packing videos already on YouTube but I would highly recommend this one (it’s super funny as well). In particular, do not ignore Merino wool thermals. You are going to wear the same clothes every day in the teahouses for almost 10-12 days. Merino wool keeps you warm and doesn’t smell. Invest in it.
Shoes: Although this can be counted under gear, it deserves a separate point since it is so critical. I suffered a lot more than I had to because I got a shoe (rented it from SharePal) which was half a size smaller. Completely my mistake. I felt my toes were being crushed each day.
You will wear thick winter socks and your foot swells in higher altitudes. You must buy proper hiking shoes which are waterproof, ideally provide insulation and are probably 0.5 size bigger than what you typically wear.
On your way down, you must tie your shoe very tightly so that your toes don’t hit the toe box at each step.Socks: Similar to shoes, this deserves its own point. I developed multiple blisters because of not having the right socks. While you must carry thick hiking socks for the cold, you must also carry compression socks to wear beneath them to prevent the blisters. Your socks shouldn’t be ankle-length, they should go up till your calfs.
To take or not to take Diamox: When you start preparing for EBC, you will come across Diamox. It is a medicine used to prevent Acute Mountain Sickness (AMS). One of the most common doubts is whether to take it since it can cause side effects like severe dehydration, tingling in your hands, and more.
We chose to not take it as many of those who completed the trek didn’t and our guides suggested against it too—as long as we ate and drank well, it should be okay. For the most part, this worked out for us.
We did have episodes of minor headaches but usually drinking water or eating fixed it. If not, taking ibuprofen and sleeping worked as the fallback. Only the night before the descent was very uncomfortable for us. But this doesn’t mean that taking Diamox guaranteed a smooth ride—some of those who took it struggled too.
At the end, it is your call. Be sure to consult with your guide before making a decision.Insure your trip: Insurance is something you hope you never have to use but are grateful you invested in in the very unlikely scenario you have to use it. More than anything, you must ensure that your insurance plan covers emergency evacuation via helicopter. After a lot of research, we found this plan to be the right mix of coverage and premium for us.
Don’t try to be Macho: A few of my experienced well-wishers had already cautioned me to not give into any “Macho man” or rebellious instinct. To diligently follow what I was being told. It was a helpful reminder, one that I stuck to, for the most part.
A final shoutout
None of this would have been possible without the excellent management of Heaven Himalayas. Our package covered our stay for each night, both in Kathmandu and each of the teahouses, 3 meals a day, all the permits, a guide, a porter, and our flights to and from Lukla.
Right from the get go, they were super responsive and answered all our queries with patience and proactiveness. They were with us right till the end until I left Kathmandu.
Our biggest pillars of support were our guides who showed immense care for us, our safety and well-being. They educated us about everything from the culture of the Khumbu valley to the dangers of climbing Everest. Their authentic “Jai-Veeru” jodi and incessant gossip was a constant source of laughter.
I recommend Heaven Himalayas for your trip (ask for either Shankar bhai or Surya bhai as your guide). No one has asked me to put this there. This is simply the power of giving a great experience.
Cost
The trip cost me around 2 lakhs, with the following break up:
Package: $1400 (~1.2L)
Gear: 20-30k
Reaching and leaving Kathmandu: 20k
Insurance: 10k
Cash for daily expenses: 15k
Helicopter from Kathmandu to Lukla: 200$ (~17K)
This is a brilliant article, thanks for taking the time to document your trip so thoroughly! I’m off to EBC and Lobuche Peak in November. Slightly terrified! More so of the sleep and living conditions…
superb breakdown. def helpful!