Already dressed in my trekking clothes, which are becoming increasingly grimey and stiff, I awoke from a deep sleep at 0345. Em stirred next to me, but stayed zipped in her sleeping bag. In the light of my headlamp, I quickly packed my mochila. My breath felt strong, my head free of aches, and my mind was ready and full of resolve. I whispered to Em at 0400 when she still lay cocooned in her bag. Seemingly paralyzed with the the thoughts of the daunting day ahead, the familiar wave of nausea was surging through her stomach. Finally, she emerged and joined me for some morning tea. In the light of my headlamp in the freezing dark dining room, I ate a pancake that froze into hardness on my plate. Unable to stomach anything, Em just sipped on ginger tea.
Leaving a few minutes after the L.A. couple, we began our ascent up the narrow river gorge behind our lodge. We crossed over the frozen earth, picking our way through patches of snow, and gingerly hopscotching onto dry rocks at points where the river ran steady downward. With only the light of our headlamps, we followed Bishnu as he navigated up the gorge. Ahead, we could see the lights of dozen or so other trekkers. The pass must be crossed earlier in the day to avoid the strong winds that often whip across it in the afternoon. Departing from Tagnag, the next village isn't until Dzonglha, seven to eight hours away.
The only picture I snapped before my camera died.
Emerging from the narrow ravine, the light of day strong enough to dismiss our headlamps, we walked upwards into a wide sloping plain nestled between snowy hills. Large bolders were dropped around the plain, providing clutch cover for "mountain toilets." Cresting a snowy hill, capped with a tall white flag, we caught our first glimpse of the pass. It was depressingly far away, appearing as a face of white between two mountains. A long stretch of rocky gray and snow lay before us to even get to the base of the pass and begin the steep slippery ascent. The vistas in all directions were astonishing, and much to my dismay, my camera wouldn't turn on, despite the fully charged batteries. Pulling out my iPhone as a backup camera, that powered on only to shut right back down. The extreme cold had sapped my electronics of all of their power. I couldn't even spare the energy to be frustrated that I would have no pictures to document this epic day.
Descending into a snowy, boulder strewn valley, we winded our way delicately to the left and towards the forbidding pass. Unbelievably, as far as the steep ascent seemed, it pulled closer and closer until we were standing on the last stretch of snowy flatness before the up, up, up. Having just scrambled awkwardly with our packs up a rocky embankment, we rested a minute. Around us was a giant trekking group made up of 8 trekkers and 3 guides. Sipping water and eating chocolate bars, they slipped crampons over their boots. In the meantime, I discovered my water bottle was frozen shut, went knee deep in snow when I tried to find a place to blow my nose Nepalese style (sans tissue), and my hands were too encumbered by gloves to navigate the chocolate bar wrapper. Em asked Bishnu whether we too should be wearing crampons, but honestly, at that point we were committed.
Following this large group, we slowly picked our way up the snowy, icy, steep embankment. Our side of the pass was still in shadows, so despite the climb, it was bitingly cold. Grooved into the 45 degree angled snow slope, switchbacking upwards was a deeply imprinted staircase of footsteps. By following these footsteps, careful to avoid the slick icy blue parts, we steadily climbed, digging our trekking poles for leverage. My heart ringing in my ears, I felt myself in the action of completing this seemingly indomitable task, and it wasn't even as hard as I had feared! It cannot be believed how the fear of the unknown can play such a factor in our self confidence! Doggedly determined, we breathed and stretched and moved up the slope, till finally, I could see the faces of the people at the top of the pass peering down at us. I focused on their faces, their noses, checks, mouths, eyes, and I knew I was almost there. The squeak of my poles in the ice, and crunch of snow underfoot were my soundtrack of progress.
Em at the top of Cho La pass!
With a final push, the sun crossing into our faces, we gained the top of the pass, and gazed around us in wonder. All around us, breathtaking vistas of the Ngozumpa glacier, peaks of white, of the sloping mound of the pass downwards, at the multitude of colors of prayer flags and trekkers.
My face was so frozen, that I actually thought I was grinning in this picture.
Finally gaining a freedom of energy, I shared a chocolate bar with Em and Bishnu, wrestled my water bottle open, and after observing the genius of a fellow trekker, took my camera battery out, warming it against my hand, and restoring it to life.
Nothing like chocolate to celebrate.
After a cold and windy 15 minutes we began descending down a considerably less steep sloping hill of snow, slipping and sliding, catching ourselves with our trusty and indispensable trekking poles. Snow gave way to a steep downward rock scramble that actually called upon some rock climbing dexterity. Continuing downward, down a narrow ridge and across a small river, we finally landed on a flat, muddy plain. Ama Dablam, in all her glory was beautifully framed in the opposite distance of the valley. Walking in this mercifully flat area, I felt strong, capable and magnified in my own ability. We had made it! We were on the other side of the pass!
Em in wonderland.
Ama Dablam's changing aspect.
The stress and physical exertion of the day finally overwhelmed me in the last 20 minutes to Dzonglha. Cresting a small hill to see the village below us, my mind and body felt wasted. It was actually the most difficult stretch of the entire day, so drained was my everything. Seven hours and forty-five minutes after setting out from Tagnag, we were collapsing in our lodge in Dzonglha.
Watching the sun set bright orange over Ama Dablam and the surrounding peaks, both Em and I felt a mighty thing accomplished. The lovely, silly girl who staffed the dining room, laughed at our exhausted expressions, but was careful to sit near us and smile kindly in our direction. Bishnu, who is clearly relieved after our delay in Gokyo, is relaxed and all smiles.
Tonight, brushing our teeth in the freezing, dark, courtyard of the lodge, I looked up at the brilliant night sky. Planets beamed bright against the inky blackness, and the Milky Way expanded towards my senses in a wispy cloud of white. All is good, and all is well, and I say namaste to Cho La pass.
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