This morning we woke to a dusting of fresh powder.  My first thought was the song “Snow, snow, snow” from the movie-musical White Christmas.  With Bing Cosby’s melodies in my head I wandered to our breakfast room, only to find our departure to Imja Lake was delayed…

Chukung Snow (photo by Katalyn Voss)

Luckily, the slushy rain let up around 10am and our expedition was able to depart after lunch.  A few hours later, we found ourselves in a neon yellow tent village at Imja Lake Base Camp.  We have arrived!  For the next three days, we will explore the lake, exchange with locals, and brainstorm future research and action items.

Imja Base Camp (photo by Daniel Byers)

And with walls of mountains surrounding us and the lake in our backyard, inspiration will surely flow.

- Kate

Daene McKinney and I were standing on  small bridge crossing a rushing river trying to remember the word for bundled stones used to protect river banks or bridge. We were at around 4000 m, where the forest landscape gives way to shrubs and grasses;  this was no small task for our tired, oxygen starved brains.  Daene knew it was not “caisson.”  I suggested “gabbion.”  That seemed right to both of us, but we agreed to verify at sea level.

(Photo by Daniel Byers)

That problem behind us, I turned and looked up the hill we had to climb out of the valley to reach Dingboche. A heavy mist and light rain had blown in, and through the mist I could see 20 tangerine colored figures trudging up the path.  The tangerines were members of our group, protected from the rain by the jackets North Face donated to this expedition.  The jackets are gossamer thin, like tissue paper, but tough and water resistant.  Everyone’s reaction has been the same: first, skepticism at their thinness, followed by awe at their utility.  it rained the day we passed them out, and everyone was grinning and talking about these magic jackets.

The orange color gives the group a common identity.  It also serves as a conversation starter.  Several trekkers and more than one porter have stopped me to ask if we’re part of a group, rubbing the jacket between their fingers as they ask.  This gives me an opening to tell them about the expedition and a quick lesson on glacier lakes.  But what they really want is the jacket.

The jacket envy stems partly from the fact that these jackets have not yet been pirated in the shops of Thamel Market in Kathmandu.  Thamel is a maze of small shops selling crafts and knock-offs of name brand labels: North Face, Mountain Hardware, etc.  If it is made of fabric, you can probably find a low-priced copy in Thamel.  But not these tangerine jackets.  The fabric and design are just too new.

- John

Tengboche — 3860m.

If you’re reading this, our satellite modem is working!

(Photo by Daniel Byers)

Today we departed Namche Bazaar, leaving behind running water, cheap electricity and wifi. We climbed through the clouds to reach Tengboche. I got my first sight of Everest and Lhotse. At this distance these famous mountains are less impressive than Ama Dablam (6814m) with its snow clad pyramid rising into the cloudy sky beside us. Around Phungi Thanga the fog finally overran us as we ate lunch. Even with our view of the mountains cut off, the hills were spectacular, with melt-water cascading down to the river. Arriving in Tengboche we happened upon a wedding ceremony at the monastery, a rare sight three days from Lukla.

From this point onward, all communications is going out by satellite! In the last weeks of August, our equipment rental in Kathmandu fell through sending us scrambling for a replacement.  Thankfully, Ed Wright, COO of US Space Mobile Communications , heard about our situation. He overnighted a Thuraya XT from California to DC, and hand delivered it to John Furlow in front of the Reagan Building on the day of his departure. Physically the phone looks like an indestructible cellphone with an 80s style antenna. Sending data over satellite makes internet access in Namche Bazar look fast by comparison, but up here it’s the only option.

To facilitate writing posts, we’ve hauled a pair of netbooks up with plenty of spare batteries. I’ve heard rumors of that one of the porters is carrying a diesel generator, but have yet to see it. With any luck our power will hold out through Imja.

Finally, I’d like to thank the members of the London Hack Space for providing some last minute technical assistance when I was in Kathmandu. Without their help, these updates would likely be constrained to 160 characters.

We started out our “rest and acclimatization” day today at nine a.m. with a hike to a nearby (and well guarded) museum which provided an in depth history of the Everest region along with a detailed look into the life and culture of the Sherpa people.

Namche Bazaar from above. (Photo by James McKinney)

You may notice that in the previous sentence the “S” in Sherpa is capitalized. This is in accordance with the word as a noun referring to such a proud, passionate, and professional people. The Sherpa people are from the Everest region and have long been known as pioneers of the high altitude boundaries for carrying immense loads of supplies up and down mountains, and for guiding climbers up Jomolungma (Mt. Everest) herself. A misconception of the Sherpa people in today’s society is that their roles in this mountainous world have remained unchanged. However, the Sherpa people have ascended socio-economically and are now well established as mountain guides, hotel managers, doctors, businessmen, and hold a myriad of other professional positions. As the Sherpa people moved up into management and professional positions, there was an essential gap in this touristic mountain society that was left open in the form of porters and trekking guides. This labor gap has since been filled by the Rai people who reside to the east.

The Sherpa village of Khumjung. (Photo by James McKinney)

Continuing on from the Museum we began a step-by-step-by-vertical-step ascent into the mystical fog that sat heavily over the town of Naamche. We were headed up towards Khumjung, the next town on the route to Everest base camp.

Khumjung is a small town situated at an elevation of 3780 meters in a valley above Naamche. It was here that Sir Edmund Hillary, one of the original mountaineers to climb Everest, built the first school for the Sherpa people of the area. This was the first school to be build in a string of 63 such facilities that are continued to be supported by the Himalayan Trust organization. Much of the work and support for the institutions facilitated by Ed Hillary came from the Sherpa people and more specifically, Ang Rita’s father and family. Mingma Sherpa, Ang Rita’s father, was Sir Ed. Hillary’s close personal friend and expedition facilitator. Mingma also aided Ed Hillary in many of his exploits, specifically helping in the construction of 21 of the Sherpa schools and the Khunde hospital.

A statue of Sir Edmund Himary within the Khumjung school grounds. (Photo by James McKinney)

Tomorrow the expedition will continue on to the town of Tengboche and the collage of cultures will continue to share ideas and formulate solutions to the problems of this region.

- James

We’ve been speaking to some of our Peruvian team members, asking them about their experience in Nepal, and what they anticipate the differences and challenges to be in dealing with the lakes here. One statement got repeated several times: the Khumbu is vast. Jesus Gomez:

“Peru is very different from the Himalayas because here the scale is just huge.”

That brings up all kinds of logistical challenges. In Peru, roads made most of the dangerous lakes accessible within one or two days; but Imja lake is at least a week’s trek from Lukla, the nearest large village.

Jorge Recharte (Photo by Daniel Byers)

Jorge Recharte, the director of the Andean Programs at TMI and part of the team of social scientists present, spoke to us about his experience of the Khumbu so far: ”Here there is a sense of exotic – a wealth and richness of culture… I’m excited to explore the possibility of Peruvian and Nepalese exchange, working together with glacial lakes.” Jorge said the huge diversity of backgrounds and perspectives present in the expedition – with representatives from 13 countries – was especially interesting.

“There was a conversation last night between Ang Rita, a Nepali, and Cesar, a Peruvian, discussing what’s possible… and what’s not possible – it is just fantastic, the sparks of ideas that happen when you bring different backgrounds, different nationalities. [...] Social scientists are meeting to discuss the importance of responding to the physical threat of glaciers receding, by recognizing that it is a human response. It’s all about the people, and how they respond. The Sherpa people are interested in the solutions because they are the ones that will be responding, and they want to know how to do it. “

Most of all, it’s incredible that all these people have come to work together on a shared issue – and so far, it’s going very well.

“There is a common goal to understand glacial lakes, to share our respective experiences… the process of working through that, and then collaborating. If we continue as we have so far these two days, the result will be very powerful.”

One of the dramatic hanging bridges across the Dhuud Kosi river on our way up the valley. (Photo by Daniel Byers)

It’s still a long way to Imja, but already people from opposite ends of the earth are trading knowledge, forming friendships, and speculating possible followup management strategies. With every step towards our destination, the excitement is more tangible.

The sharp incline of the short airstrip at Lukla helps the planes decelerate on landing. (Photo by Daene McKinney)

The Khumbu - After a harrowing, we-bounced-when-we-hit-the-ground landing on Lukla’s tiny airstrip, our multinational team started our long trek to Imja Lake.

The weather was gorgeous and the trail uncrowded (it’s the off-season).  After two days of trekking, we have arrived at Namche Bazaar, the economic center of the Khumbu. The town sprouts up around the bowl of the valley and, thanks to the tourism draw of Mt. Everest, is composed almost entirely of massive, brightly colored hotels. Ang Rita Sherpa, born and raised just an hour’s walk away, showed us how many of the huge hotels are made entirely from fitted, unmortared stones. Each of the stones takes a laborer hours to cut into shape.  This is skilled labor, so the stonecutters earn 500 rupees per day — about 7 dollars.

Stonecutters cutting building blocks. (Photo by Daniel Byers)

Ang Rita is a long-time conservationist and activist for the Sherpa people and culture; he has been The Mountain Institute’s Senior Program Manager in Nepal for years.  Last year, he received the prestigious Sir Edmund Hillary Mountain Legacy Award for his work in the Khumbu. As a native to the region, he’s incredibly excited to see our project underway. We spoke to him about his expectations for the expedition — and what makes this expedition so different from previous scientific journey’s to Imja Lake:

“In the past, scientists met with Sherpa villagers interested in the future of the Imja valley. But the scientists only discussed the threats, not the solutions.  My people were unhappy.  So, The Mountain Institute promised an expedition with solutions. And now, every morning, people call me to ask when the expedition will reach their village – they are very excited for us to talk to them about solutions to the threats from glacial lakes, and how the water from the lakes can be used to help local communities with irrigation, electricity and other practical purposes.”

Ang Rita Sherpa (Photo by Brendan Hickey)

Ang Rita went on to explain that because of the extensive study of the Imja Lake and previous glacial lake outburst floods (GLOFs) in the Khumbu, the local people are acutely aware of the danger GLOFs pose to them. What they don’t have is a course of action.

“Because of the 1985 Tengboche GLOF disaster, the Sherpa people understand the dangers of GLOFs in the Everest region, a serious problem that is linked to climate change and global warming. I hope that the scientists will provide good discussions and solutions — solutions for the Sherpa people’s future.”

Ang Rita finished by thanking the team for respecting the Sherpa culture.  He asked us to “Come as a friend and as a guest.”

After approximately 33 hours of grueling plane travel to get to Nepal, you step off the plane and onto the tarmac of KTM airport… straight into a wall of humidity or, if you’re really lucky, maybe some monsoon downpours.

You collect your bags at the single baggage claim, breeze through customs and experience your dose of Kathmandu traffic as your taxi/van/bus (and the other 30 vehicles) attempt to leave the airport through the single-exit bottleneck.

But the excitement is tangible: you have arrived in Nepal, the home of the famous yeti (abominable snowman) and the infamous Himalayan Mountain range.

The city of Kathmandu exists on an area of approximately 20 square miles, but is home to over 1 million people. The result? The streets are overcrowded with trucks, buses, cars, motorcycles, and bicycles.  Traffic.  Lots of traffic.  If you attempt to walk the streets of Kathmandu, be prepared for an adrenaline sport and to occasionally dodge the piles of trash that line the streets. Rules of the road don’t exist, except that the bigger you are the more you can ignore everyone else.  Consequently, there is a general pecking order when it comes to who has the right of way: trucks/buses > cars > motorcycles > bikes > pedestrians > dogs > everything else.  Of course, given the deep Hindu roots in Nepal, cows trump all and can wander across the busiest of roads without fear.

Life in Kathmandu is truly a full-sensory experience. From the 24/7 honking to the chants from the locals, and the reeking stench of rotting garbage to the omnipresent exhaust in the air you are constantly overwhelmed. There is a lot of visual stimulus as well from the bright saris, fresh produce markets, and pastel colored buildings. Everything is always a buzz and your senses are incessantly bombarded.

As a tourist, the city seems to be chaotic, but locals casually go about their day-to-day life: children in starched uniforms go to school, mothers purchase fresh vegetables for the evening meal, and the whole city comes to life during the festivals.  Case in point, this past Wednesday women from all across the city headed to Pashupati Temple dressed in their finest attire – red wedding sari, bangles and hair adornments –to celebrate Teej, the women’s festival.  The streets of Katmandu were flooded in red.

But now it is time to leave for the Khumbu (Everest) region to begin our expedition to Imja lake. We will trade in the commotion of the city for fresh, cool mountain air, and the honking cars for (hopefully) serene trails.

Until next time, Namaste!

James and Kate