It’s a foregone conclusion that our trail beyond this point will involve the usual toil and struggle, but after more than a week of conditioning the recurring rise and fall is actually alright for the legs. Just as always, it is the psychological challenge that can make our hike any trouble. So I won’t mention anything about trails and feeling tired, at least until we get to the dreaded village of Lobuche, which gives me about another week in this blog to colorfully describe the villages and flowers and puffy clouds until then. You don’t think I can wander off metaphorically for a few days and fixate on lumbering grey swirls of vapor roiling down to stifle the rumbling chatter of the river valley? Don’t tempt me, or you’ll have to read about puffy clouds all next week. The sight of spry, diminutive yet colorful patches of wildflowers cheering up the thinning, dead grass is still vivid in my mind. As a matter of fact, on a few of our casual conditioning day hikes I stopped, catching my breath, to pluck samples of the yellow, red and lavender wild blossoms to press and preserve in my Nepal tourist book. Saying that, I’m calling my masculinity into question, so I won’t mention what I was thinking about butterflies and unicorns.

It seems my train of through over the last few days has been leading to our arrival in the Khumbu village of Phortse. I’m over complaining about hiking the rugged but beautiful terrain, and I can try to bring out more details of our passage across the trails. Before we actually made our final ascent for the day up to Phortse we stopped for a relaxing moment inside a small tea house just across the river (Kohanar Khola) and nibbled on our pack lunches of nak cheese and chapati bread. I’m sure we would have ordered some lemon tea, if only the owner had stopped in to check on us. We met another couple who were also passing through this point on the map on their way more northward to Dole, Machermo, and Gokyo. The topic of their brisk pace up the trail came up, and Richard felt he should warn them of their risks of elevation sickness. Richard had an encounter with these troubles on his previous trek through the region a few years before, and the quick route to Gokyo proved to be perilous. He urged them to take an extra day or two for acclimatization, though the couple didn’t take to the idea right away. It was refreshing to at least interact with some new faces and we were invigorated to get back to our next climb for the day.

Enough about extracting surveillance photos from outlandish regions of the planet, let’s get back on the trail out of Khumjung. Most hikers will take the low road out of Namche and pass up the encounter with the Everest View Hotel and the village of Khumjung. I couldn’t say which is more challenging between the very steep route straight up, or the seemingly endless though more level trail out to the east and then north. That’s really a pointless topic to consider because you should just resign yourself to facing and overcoming never ending inclines anyway, especially the types that take you high up into the clouds, to soon slip down for a splash of the rushing river below, then back up. Regardless, once we get past Namche and Khumjung there is a nice rise up to Mong La, a brief break in the trail to sit down and gaze across the valley to Phortse. Mong La is at around 13,000 feet, and the trail down again to the river is 1,500 feet below. 1,500 feet up again on the other side brings you to the lower edge of Phortse village.

The typical trail for a Himalayan hiker is to lead out to the northeast beyond the luxury outpost of the Hotel Everest View. Directly north, of course along a winding, downhill path through the pine forest, you will pass between the villages of Khunde and Khumjung, and you’ll be met with a steep incline leading up the face of the holy mountain Khumbi Yul Lha. Several mountain peaks are revered as holy lands and are not defiled with errant footsteps. Khumjung itself is a holy gathering point for Buddhist monks and other faithful Sherpas. Below in the village is an enormous stupa, a wall of mani stones that leads on for what seems to be hundreds of meters, a monastery (with an ancient yeti scalp on display), and Pema Dorje’s personal pride, a Buddhist chapel he has crafted in a corner of his own home. Pema has enjoyed spending some time there in his home region this winter without having any white monkeys to watch over.