The View from Renjo Pass

This photo was taken at 17,600 feet.  The central high peak is Mt Everest.  Notice the 3rd holy lake in the foreground.  If you look closely the village of Gokyo is upper left of the lake shore.  

Tibetan Yak Train

We crossed the Renjo La at 17,600 feet.  As we crested the pass heading West I could feel 600 years of Tibetan Yak trains.  Tibetans would load their yaks with bags of salt from Tibet, cross the Nangpa La into Nepal to pick up Rice.  This is no easy feat.  Imagine crossing, glacier with gaping crevasses and ice bridges with 800 pound animals.

Once on the Nepal side the tension subsides and Tibetan Folk songs ring through the valley.  Tibetans often whistle a tune that lulls Yak and herder into a meditation.  The occasional,  Ang Tashi, Ang Nima (yak names) echoing off the walls as the animals are persuaded to move faster.

On this trip I could hear the yak bells in the distance.  A kind of soft sound making one forget the miles under feet.

Spirituality is not a serious state

I always tease the Saddhus (holy men) at the Hindu Rain Temple.  I have found that they have great sense of humors and are very light hearted.

I was sitting with 2 holy men on a row of white painted steps.  Their red dress with dashes of yellow popped against the white.  Their dark eyes danced many a journey.   I joked with them "You like to sit here to watch the pretty girls."   A heaving body as they bowed their heads back and forth from the force of a big laugh.  They have sworn to celibacy.

I saw another Saddhu, sitting slumped, his body smeared with the clay of the holy temple grounds.  His hand held in a lazy Mudra (hand gesture of wisdom) "I jokingly said, "You look bored."  Thinking he would reply with some astronomical punctuation of wisdom.  He replied "Every Day"  with a big smile.

Thame Monastery Dog Rescue

We walked up the 300 year old trail to the Thame Monastery.  The final steps were steep.  We passed a grumpy, frumpy, monk descending the steps.  I said Namaste, he was silent.

As we walked into the courtyard we noticed a beautiful young dog laden with heavy chain around his neck.  The fir was warn away where the chain hung.  The dog had probably been chained since he was  a pup.

The clients and I moved closer.  The young dog wagged its tail and sat calmly has we glanced over his situation.  He had a water dish with drops of water in it.  He had a food bowl with a handful of rice.  To escape the elements he had nothing.  He was chained to a metal bar set in a cement wall that surrounded the court yard.  It was snowing now, he was wet.

I grabbed the chain around his neck and found the locking mechanism.  We decided to let him loose.

As the chains dropped from his neck he began sprinting around the court, a big smile on his face.  It was beautiful to see this dog and his first minutes of freedom.  He circled the monastery 3 times, darted toward Steve (a gentleman on our trek team) and because of the lack of experience with movement slid into his legs not knowing how to brake. His tail acted as a wild propeller, non stop turning, a happy dog for sure.

He went back to his food bowl and greedily finished his food.  He made a few more rounds around the monastery running, jumping, then exited the courtyard doors, a slight whirlwind flowing out into the expanses.

We returned to our tea house.  We found out the dog was actually the monks that we had passed on the steep stairs.  I thought about Buddhism and compassion.  I wondered what the monk what have felt like with a chain around his neck out in the open elements?  Maybe his intentions were pure but did not know how to take care of a dog?

What I do know is that we passed a grumpy, frumpy Monk,  and no dog should be chained in the elements without a roof over its head.  

Zing Bar

Thank You to the staff of Zing Bar.  When I get tired of Dhal Bhat, the staple Nepali meal, I would turn to a Zing Bar.  The Blue Berry flavor saved me on many a day when I was tired of rice and needed some energy to go higher.  This photo was taken after we crossed the 17,600 foot Renjo Pass.  I devoured the bar.

Comfort Zone

If we never get out of our comfort zone then we are staying still, nothing is changing.  If nothing is changing then we are not growing. Growth requires movement.  Thank You to my clients who show me every expedition and trek how they get out of their comfort zones and handle it with grace. Matt Fioretti

Freedom

On the way down from the Renjo pass we passed a older Sherpa gentlemen.  He was behind his stone hut working at something.  He raised his head and with a huge smile, hands pushed together centered at his chest and yells "Namaste!!!!"   He is so open and warm and I return with a healthy "Namaste".   He turns back to his task.

I glance over his situation.  He has a stone hut 8 feet by 9 feet long.  It is perched on a the only flat terrace on a broad mountain side at 13,200 feet.  As I glance back he is smiling while he sees us on.  He has nothing but a thick wool hat on, canvas pants darkened with mountain life, a smile that is as vast as the ocean.  Running near his hut is a small mountain stream, his life line.

I look miles to the north, only mountains and tundra, the border of Tibet beyond.  I look west, a great mountain wall looms.  I look to my left, East.  I see a small heard of huge beautiful yaks, his life's work.

I continue down and think of my life, our life in the United States.  We need insurances to keep from getting sued.  I have a mortgage which ways heavy.  Monthly bills.  Can our children walk to school alone as I once did?  Time seems to be a chain.  Can I move freely?  We fight to keep our guns.  If we need guns are we living in fear?  I do not know the answers but as I witness this Sherpa living in a stone hut with the cleanest water and unchained time, I believe we are missing something.  I can feel it in his smile.

I turn one last time and yell a "Nameste".  He stands, the happiest man on earth and returns "Namaste".

Renjo Pass, 17,680 feet

Greetings from the Renjo Pass.  All the group has made it over except for 2.  It is a beautiful walk which starts at the village of Gokyo and travels above the shores of the 3rd holy lake.  In1999 when I first crossed the pass there was a faint animal trail disappearing amongst boulders.  Once over the pass it was anyones guess as to the route down.  Now there is a good single track and built steps over the pass.  Still there were only 5 or 6 people traveling the route.  It remains peaceful. You can feel the spirit of the Tibetan Yak trains that used to carry salt over the Nangpa La pass to trade for rice.  A beautiful remote walk.  We all were in silence.  

Thank You to the Sherpas of Everest

Condolences and prayers to the families who lost loved ones in the Everest Avalanche.  Without your sons and fathers Everest would never get climbed.

 You are the ones that make it possible for all who do not have the skill or strength to fix rope.  You are the ones that make it possible for all.

I hope you realize how important you are, I hope you realize that Everest is your mountain.  The mountain does not belong to Western Guide Services it belongs to you.

You are the angels of everest both in the physical and, for those who have died on her slopes, spiritual.

Peace and prayers to the safe passage of lost ones and to the families left behind.  

outstanding clients

We have a group of outstanding clients.  The high altitude arena is a new frontier for most.  Often when we enter a new experience or arena we want to try to gain as much control as possible.  As we grasp the reigns the full possibility of the magic of travel in the mountains is often diminished.  I believe this to be true in life.  The harder we grasp the less the spontaneous and wild the experience.

 This is the first time to altitude for most of them and they have entered this new experience with open hearts.  We move up to 14,200 feet tomorrow.   I am excited to see friends in the Thame and Gokyo valley as well as get a closer look at a climb for next October.  Peace to all.

Shiva Temple Kathmandu

Real Holy Men at Pashuputinath.  The Saddhu on the left had walked barefoot to upper Mustang valley.

Today our trekking group had a great time at the Shiva temple.  We witnessed bodies being prepared for cremation.  Most of the holy men at the temple are just for show.  We ran into these two who actually walk to holy places barefoot with only a cotton shawl.  We are talking Himalayan trails barefoot and often with snow.  They never know when or where there next meal will come from.  They just walk without fear.

Sherpa in Los Angeles

A Sherpa friend of mine was visiting Los Angeles.  His adventure was relayed to me by a friend who lives in Aspen.  I thought of my Sherpa friend and his life.  Waking at 5 a.m. every morning to the silence of the Himalayan dawn.  Only the wind and mountains brush the high atmosphere, stirring the soul.  A true nature bath. 

My friend would start his prayer meditation, as most Sherpas from the Khumbu region do, each morning.  His home is nestled in a hanging valley at 14,600 feet, higher than any peak in the lower 48.  After prayer he would start a fire in the stove, bundle himself and go for a walk in the shadow of holy Mt. Khumbila.  There are no trails where he walks.  He has shown me places in the Gokyo Valley where no foreigner has been.  Snow leopard dance here.

When my friend in Aspen relayed the story of my Sherpa friends travels in Los Angeles she laughed and paraphrased a statement that he had said.  He was riding in a car down Interstate 5 looking around, maybe a slight hint of discuss on his face.  He says to the person driving the car ( imagine a strong Sherpa accent). “Here we are driving down highway, coffee in one hand, steering wheel in other hand, texting on phone, and no one knows where they are going.”  I know this friend well and believe this statement had a physical as well as a spiritual meaning to it.  I believe he was speaking in metaphor.

I am a bone marrow transplant survivor.  Death seemed near on many occasion in the 3 year journey. There were times during the ordeal when I felt I was walking through an endless dark night with no light in sight, deep endless dark.  The beauty of such a severe journey is the awareness that comes.  I remember my life before transplant and know my life after.

My Sherpa friends statement “no one knows where they are going” reminds me to be awake and aware of how I spend my minutes. Every moment is sacred and being mindful of these sacred moments makes us truly alive.  

Stairway to moon

Several years back I was sitting around a small fire in the remote Himalaya.  We had a diverse trekking group.  It was dark but the stars in North Nepal on the border of Tibet cast a wonderful sprinkle of light.

The conversation turned to the moon.  How Beautiful, How blue, How mysterious, A spiritual teacher, How men had been there, and walked in the unknown.  On that comment a Sherpa from a small village of 8 stone huts interrupted.  "No man has been there!"  He said it with complete conviction.  We all smiled, humbled by the purity of the Sherpas statement.  I said "Well yes, man has flown there".  I grabbed a stick and mimicked a rocket flight.

The Sherpas are mountain people, they walk everywhere.  They will walk 3 days to make a 3 minute phone call.  2 days to visit a friend for an hour.  The trails are stony and steep.

The Sherpa interrupted again "No! No! No!  You show me the trail that goes there."  

Nepal Expeditions 2015

Hello Everyone,
I am excited to announce our 2015 schedule of climbing expeditions in Nepal.  In March we will be returning to Kangchung Peaks.  Rarely climbed, remote Base camp, and no crowds.  In October I want to announce our return to Ama Dablam, a peak that challenges every skill of the Alpinist.  Feel free to call or email with questions.  Matt Fioretti has led 3 previous expeditions on Ama Dablam.  Join us for a fast and light expedition.  We limit our group size to 4 climbers.  Matt Fioretti brings you to the summit and more importantly, back home.

Chad Kellogg

                                        

Chad, you were a brother.  You were a force.  You were a true mountain breathing dragon, mountains oozed from your cells and you taught me so much about this. Thank You for all you gave to me and to human kind, the gift of kindness and humility. You followed your dream, no obstacles, just flight.  Your brother-ship was true.    Now I know you are an even greater force traveling well. 

Love you, love you all.  Matt

If an Avalanche does't Kill you......

We were at Camp I on Ama Dablam.  A 22,500 foot peak, Camp I is at 18,700 feet.  The summit seems so close from this perspective but 2 solid long days on vertical rock and steep ice quickly reminds you that the 3800 feet between is no easy matter.  Imagine, at home in the Cascades a climber can do 3800 feet on technical terrain in 7 to 8 hours, the same footage on Ama takes about 2 days.  Every day on the route one cannot help but think about the hanging glacier above camp 3.  There are many dangers on this climb, rock fall, avalanches, steep ground, but the big hanging glacier above camp 3 keeps a climber awake at night especially if you are at camp 3 with the thousands of tons of ice hanging precariously above.

But on this day Fabrizio Zangrilli, his client, and I, were at Camp One.  I had my own tent and Fabrizio shared his with his clients. Not much to worry about here right?

It is evening time and alpine-glow illuminates the South Face.  I am tucked into my cozy -20 degree sleeping bag.  Fabrizio had just arrived from a hard day of fixing rope up to camp 2.  He is tired and I hear his client ask "Can I cook you up some water".   I hear Fabrizio rustle into the tent and client clanking stove, fuel, and cook pot to get water going.  At altitude we use a Butane Propane premixed pressurized canister.  My tent is set up so my head is near the entry of their vestibule and I can hear the drama unfolding.

Fabrizio:  " You got that Ok Chris"    Chris:  "Im good".  I hear chris fumbling with canister and stove.  In order for the gas to flow you have to screw the stove onto the threads at the top of the canister.  When it is threaded correct a ball valve is depressed and the gas only flows when you turn on the valve on the stove.  Fabrizio:  "You sure you got that OK Chris?"   Chris:  Yes I almost have i now".   I could hear a hissing from the stove and I could hear the stress in Fabrizio's voice has he questioned Chris.  What happened next was scary at the time but holds a high comical value now.

I hear bob striking the lighter,  one, two, three times.  On the fourth strike my tent lights up like there was an explosion.  I hear excited screams and Chaos from the tent next door.  I clamber out of my tent in a hurry to find in fact there was an explosion.  I hear Fabrizio scream to Chris "Fucking hell I thought you had it Chris?"  By the time I got out of my tent the tent next door had burned to the ground.  I am now looking at Chris who is in the fetal position and still holding the lighter.  His hair is smoking and is singed around the bangs and ears.  I see Fabrizio sitting up in his bag, a nylon inferno burns around him.  Little hanging piece of flame drip from the now bare tent poles, he has smoke coming from his hat like a cartoon character who has just exploded.  He frantically pats out the flames on his bag.  Chris continues to sit in the fetal position, I think he is in shock.

Before we had a chance to put the flames out a climber from another expedition rushes over.  He has a bottle of water and tosses it to put out flames.  He must have been blind or altitude sick because almost every drop of that water went right into one of Fabrizio's climbing boots. It is 19 degrees out and the water instantly freezes.

We finally put the flames out.  In Fabrizio's words "I just saw a huge fire ball coming at me and thought this is it".

Manasulu Expedition 2014

There are only 14 peaks in the world that are over 8000 meters.  The 8th highest is a peak called Manasulu.  Its name means mountain of the spirit or Manas which means "intellect".  The approach alone is an outstanding endeavor as it follows an ancient salt trade route for 8 days to a remote Base Camp.  It stands at 26,780 feet or 8156 meters and takes 32 days to climb from base camp.  The duration of the expedition will be 46 days.  This will be an adventure with many unknowns.  Only flexible, adaptable, proficient climbers should apply.  Join our expedition in September of 2014 to this remote peak.  We have 3 spaces left and will allow only 6 climbers.  Feel free to email with questions.

Matt Fioretti has led 20 expeditions in the Himalaya of Nepal

Diamox in the Himalaya

I was baffled when I heard that a large popular travel company and outdoor retailer had all their clients on Diamox from day one on a trek into the Khumbu, Nepal.  I was over run with disbelief when I heard their support for using a drug that does not need to be used.  "Well we have a doctor on our trip and he said it is needed."

I have been guiding the Himalaya for going on 20 years now.  In 20 years we have prescribed Diamox twice and we have had only 1 person not acclimatize mainly because she had food poisoning from chicken and could not keep her strength up.

If you are going to altitude the key to acclimatization is in the rate of ascent.  If you join a company for a trek or expedition in the Himalaya and they prescribe Diamox for the duration of the trip you need to question there rate of ascent, itinerary of that company, and experience at altitude.  I want to be clear here. I am speaking about trips in Nepal where you can control your rate of ascent and starting points are below 9000 feet.  In this environment you do not need Diamox.

A few things to keep in mind.

1.  Everyone will acclimatize if all the rules of altitude are followed.  If you would like information on these rules feel free to email me.

2.  Your rate of ascent per day should be less than 1,400 vertical feet.  On days where you move higher than this follow it with a rest day.  On rest days do not lay around, do a day hike gaining 1000 feet or more and at your high point try to hang out for an hour or more.

3.  Sleeping propped up helps with circulation of fluids and oxygen exchange.

4.  When you arrive at your new altitude the first inclination is to lay down.  This is fine for 10 to 20 minutes to get settled but then you want to walk around, move, and be upright for most of the day.

5.  Drink at least 2 quarts of water per day.  This is the most important rule.  Tea, coffee, and soda drinks do not count in your water intake.

6.  Keep your caloric intake up even if you are not hungry.  We take a brake on the trail every hour to nibble on an energy bar or what have you, and sip water.



These are just a few rules but these are the main ones that will get you acclimatized.  Diamox should only be used if someone is not acclimatizing which is rarely if the rules are followed.  I keep Diamox in our high altitude kit for back up.  Think about it this way.  If you are on Diamox and you still are not acclimatizing you have nothing to fall back on, trip over.  If for some rare reason you are not acclimatizing you can take a rest day, get on Diamox and possibly proceed within the next day or so.   It is a good drug to have for back up but it is not needed if you follow the rules.

I nor any of my colleagues, friends who guide Everest, K2, and are high altitude pros never prescribe Diamox from day one on any trip in the Nepal Himalaya.  If a doctor or company suggest such a regimen you may want to question their itinerary, rate of ascent, and years of experience at altitude.  Often in the Doctors case they have read books and studies but have not actually been to altitude many times.  Prescribing Diamox from day one is like prescribing a bandage for a cut that has not happened.  If the cut does happen then you have no bandage to use because it has already been worn.

Keep the Diamox in your altitude kit as back up.  Remember you will acclimatize without it if all the rules are followed.

Kathmandu- the 4th world

It is 2:30 a.m..  I am in the Tibet Guest house in Kathmandu, jet lag.  I am down in the reception area.  It is a modest reception space but has beautiful Thanka paintings an art form dating back to the 6th century.  I sit on a Tibetan carpet covering a sofa with gaudy patterns. The ceilings have beautiful alcoves with recessed lighting casting a calm mood, a dim single light bulb lights the reception desk.  The workers sleep on the sofas at night.  They are in deep sleep and the bbc news flickers on a TV with poor reception.   When I was writing the last blog entry I saw something out of the corner of my eye.  A big dog, black with a curled tail, trots in through the entry doors to the hotel.  He acts as if this is everyday affair for him.  He roams around sniffing corners comes looks at me then turns with a confidence.  Imagine a ferrel dog just trotting into the front doors of a nice hotel in downtown New York and just trotting around...........

The dog trots to the stair case just behind me with a confidence of ownership.  He squats and relieves himself at the base of the stairs, stands, looks over at me as he trots out the doors as if to say "what are you doing in my hotel at this time of morning?"  and disappears into the Kathmandu night.

Why we climb

  

At 17,300 after returning from a summit attempt on Kangchung.  All the elements did not come together for us to reach the summit.

It is often thought we climb mountains because of an adrenaline rush.  I have had someone that knew very little about me say "your an adrenaline junky."  I cannot speak for all climbers, climbing is a very personal experience.  Yes I am sure there are those that love the rush but I  believe there is a more universal reason as to why we put ourselves in a dangerous situation every time we step into the Alpine Arena.  Yes there is the physical movement of pushing the body to its limits, the journey, the intense beauty that stirs the soul, the purity of adventure which gives flight to the spirit. These are given in such an untamed environment.  There is something else I believe most climbers experience.  There is the elusive "living in the moment" that often escapes us in our daily lives but is an integral all important part of every climb.  The environment in the climbing arena demands that we be "in the moment".

Last year before leading a trip around Mt Kailash I was driving home from a training session on Mt Rainier.  The road from Paradise lodge to the valley floor is winding with sharp hair pin turns.  I remember straitening my vehicle and seeing a little squirrel in the center of my lane.  I thought he was going to move but as I approached he froze 10 feet in front of my bumper.  I continued thinking that if he stays put he will be fine.  I centered him between my wheels and thought I was driving over him.  When I looked in my rearview mirror he was smashed.  At some point he had darted under my tire.  I slowed the car, pulled to the side, and ran back to the dead animal.  I cried and cried and gave him a burial at the side of the road.  It reiterated how life is so tenuous.  I knew life was tenuous because I almost died at the age of 40 with a rare disease (read surviving a bone marrow transplant in this blog).  Running over the squirrel had me thinking about the seconds that  possibly separate us from death.  While I was in the parking lot at Paradise a thousand elements had to happen in just the right order for that little squirrel to be under my tire.   The time it took to Load the car, the seconds it took to roll down the window before starting the car, talking with friends in the back seat, the few extra second I took sipping on my water at Camp Muir, saying hello to someone in the parking lot, dropping my keys before opening the car door, and thousands more.  If one of these actions was 2 seconds later or earlier would the squirrel be alive?  It is a question I ponder and have no answers but I believe if I was 2 seconds earlier or later the squirrel would be alive.  

Climbing for me is being aware of the thousands of elements that culminate for us as climbers to reach a summit and the intense focus needed to move through these elements.   Snow conditions, humidity, cloud patterns, where you pitch your tent, condition of the mind, wind, what you ate before summit day, how you adjusted your pack, where you placed your anchor, and even when you left your car or home, and thousands more.  Also understanding that these elements are the same ones that can culminate in our being at the right or wrong place at the right time.  When your in an arena where you understand that if you had left 2 minutes earlier on a day where a huge avalance sliced across your climbing route, and that you would have been dead if you left 2 minutes earlier, makes me very alive in the moments on climbs.  Depending on the grade of the climb there is also the extreme focus it takes to hang on to a ripple in the rock the thickness of a dime with room for 2 fingers while trying to move to another dime size ripple.  I am definitely not thinking about my bills at home or dinner tonight and those moments from hold to hold are all that exist.  Climbing forces you to be in the moments and it seems in these wonderfully fun, scary, physically demanding, mentally draining, really really scary, exciting moments, a lifetime takes place.  Yes a life in just a moment forced upon us by the alpine arena.