Let’s say the symptoms of spring fever suddenly flare up on you when you’ve got a free day. You dig into the back corner of your closet where you last remember seeing your boots and hiking gear, and lace up and cram in a few things into your daypack. At least here the snow has just cleared and the air and soil share a similar soggy quality. It’s not a terrible idea to get an early start conditioning to up for hiking, but then the weather conditions are still going to take some serious consideration for safety. The thing about those of us living inland and up in the mountains is that we base clothing levels on a skewed relative perspective on the outside temperature. I was reminded this winter that it get’s really cold here with a relentless chill to the point that it eventually seems normal.

Isn’t it about time to start up hiking again? Well, we all have taken an atrophy break for a few months, but with the warmer weather (above freezing, woohoo) I’m getting the earliest signs of spring fever. When I wake up in the morning I don’t have to break through the ice on my blankets, and my shampoo isn’t frozen any more. I feel a light buzz of adrenaline now that the sun sets later and my legs are anxious to go run around the block. I’m in a wide valley surrounded by mountains, and I always look up and imagine hiking to each of the many peaks. However, the snow is still pretty thick and the temperatures still must be as cold as my apartment, so I don’t plan on any hikes up there just yet.

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.

Hiking in the mountains is no escape from the distractions of electronic gadgets. It used to be that you could throw some gear in the back of your truck, roll out into the hills, and completely break out of the buzzing and bleeping grasp of the telephone and the TV for a few days. That was long enough to let the ringing in your head silence out and to get a few coherent thoughts through. Of course for that we would have to go back quite a few years to truly be without portable electronics. For a long time we have had things like radios, video games and now even cell phones that can work way out in the boonies. Now we have GPS, XM radio and satellite phones to keep us wired into the rest of the world from no matter where. For many of us that leaves less willpower to force ourselves to break away from the chatter of the world. You would have to go to great lengths and personal restraint to distance yourself from all the temptations of checking in on your office emails and to hear innovative doublespeak vocabulary terms from our clever political leadership.