A few weeks ago, we reported on our colleague Robert’s preparations to climb Mera Peak (6,476 m) in Nepal. He has now returned from his Mera Peak trek, with many impressions and experiences. So many in fact that we had to divide his travelogue into two parts. So let’s get started:
Filled with high expectations, I boarded the plane at the beginning of October. Destination: Mera Peak summit in Nepal. Asia–Kathmandu–the Himalayas, those were the words going round my head the whole time. Who would have thought that I would ever get out of my comfort zone and tackle a challenge like this? Just do it! I did have some good friends to accompany me who would share this amazing experience.
After quite a long flight with a seven-hour layover in Abu Dhabi, we landed in Kathmandu late in the evening. The air was surprisingly heavy and warm, but I soon got a good feeling about my Mera Peak trek – I sensed that I was in for a completely new experience. And we were off. We quickly paid for and received our visa and continued to baggage reclaim – hoping everything would be there. What if something was missing? Without insulated shoes and crampons, we could have got straight back on the plane and flown back.
But then we spotted the first green bag coming towards us on the conveyor belt. The atmosphere became increasingly oppressive in this full hall and the ceiling fans pushed the stale air down on us. The brick walls of the airport were reminiscent of the Brandenburg region in bygone GDR times. So that was our first impression of an Asian city: strange yet familiar.
Tej, our guide, waited for us at the exit. He helped us to plan our journey to the Mera Peak elevation, and he would accompany us in the following weeks. We were greeted with a warm Namasté with hands in the prayer position and a flower chain was hung around our necks – just like in a film. Once we arrived at the hotel, we made ourselves at home on the roof of the building with a bottle of Everest beer and admired the sparkling city by night.
Kathmandu
Sun, 28 °C and the urge to explore the town. We spent our first day in Kathmandu. Swayambhunath Stuba (monkey temple) was our first destination. In my diary, I described the journey there as follows: “Rubbish, pigs, cows, smelly water”. That was my first impression of the city: repulsive and fascinating at the same time. But that was just the beginning. A peaceful, strangely content sensation came over me when we reached the monkey temple .
A huge set of steps led up to the Stuba. There were monkeys everywhere, stone gods decorated the side of the path, prayer drums were rotated from the left to the right and the scent of incense filled the air. From afar, I could hear the mantra “om ma ni pad me hum”. A monk passed me wearing a habit – I was definitely in the right place. Gigantic and fascinating that some of these buildings have existed for 2,000 years – a nice, little Nepalese chap told me that and promptly requested $ 5 for this well-intentioned, unwanted piece of information. Once you’re there, you don’t really want to leave this place of happiness.
On the way back to the hotel, we purposefully tried to circumvent the touristy parts of the city and see the “real” Kathmandu. That’s how we found some very beautiful, hidden corners but also disturbing, sad sides of the city.
Lukla
The alarm went at 5.40 a.m., breakfast at 6 a.m., departure to the airport at 6.30 a.m. My excitement increased by the minute because on this day, we were meant to take a minute prop plane to Lukla (allegedly the most dangerous airport in the world) where the actual trip to the Mera Peak summit would start. When we arrived at the airport, we were taken to our plane quite quickly. I knew the planes from TV documentaries but I didn’t expect them to be this old! I was lucky to get a seat right behind the pilot, so I had a great view of the runway and landing strip. But it also meant I could see the displays in the cockpit, which didn’t exactly fill me with confidence . It’ll be fine, I told myself. It has (mainly) been fine up to now, too. And if not, at least it’ll be quick.
The two pilots cranked up the engines and really went for it. The plane lifted off gently. While the noise of the propeller got louder and louder, the distinct smell of kerosene spread throughout the plane. That seems to be the norm because nobody was particularly bothered. I was fascinated by the landscape I watched going by the window and, at the same time, noticed the co-pilot typing WhatsApp messages on his phone. It’ll be fine.
Slowly, the first mountains came into view, and eventually Mera Peak summit appeared right in front of our noses. That was not the mountain I knew from the many pictures that I kept looking at over the months. This behemoth made of rock and ice now looked enormous and awe-inspiring. It immediately disappeared from view again, making way for Lukla’s landing strip. The landing strip is just about 500 metres long and ends in a rock face. So the brakes need to work well. But we landed just as gently as we took off.
The first stage, acclimatisation
Just after landing in Lukla, our porters were introduced to us and our luggage was distributed. The nearest town was only meant to be at an altitude of around 200 m above us according to the map, so we decided not to bother with a day’s stage and walked straight to Chutanga. We quickly noticed, however, that Chutanga was 500 m higher than marked on the map. Never mind. We all felt good and enjoyed the nice weather. The landscape and the climate reminded me a little of South Tyrol, but that changed quickly when we saw the first rhododendron plants.
We walked extremely slowly because we had enough time and didn’t want to risk getting headaches from ascending too quickly. That keeps the heart rate relatively low and you can breathe through your nose which, in turn, minimises the mucous membranes drying out. This was a part of our acclimatisation. Just like our tea consumption. Every day, we drank 5 to 6 litres of tea and water. This thins the concentrated blood and you compensate for a higher loss of moisture from breathing.
I was quite relieved when we arrived in Chutanga. I didn’t have a headache, I felt fit and I was quite hungry. In the evening, we climbed another 100 metres to follow the motto “climb high, sleep low”. During the ascent, we discovered a nice boulder block and let off some steam. In an old Saxon tradition, with a little irony, we named our path “Old Path by the Highwayman”.
On the next day, we ascended to about 4,000 metres with approximately 500 metres of cumulative elevation gain. With cheers to a good climb and a hearty handshake, just like at home. In a small lodge whilst drinking tea and eating noodle soup, we enjoyed the warm rays of the sun. At this height, similar to the Alps, the sun is much more fierce than in the lowlands. So, depending on your skin type, you must make sure you choose sun cream with a high protection factor . I swear by UV factor 50. Protection for the lips is just as essential. Otherwise, you’ll get deep cracks. It looks stupid, hurts a lot and you get in trouble with your girlfriend because it’s “scratchy”.
On the way back, I had a strange feeling in my stomach. Even though I had eaten what the others had, I initially got some stomach problems. Luckily, my doctor had given me a well equipped first-aid kit to take with me. Plus a bottle of coke and a bag of crisps replenished all the minerals I had lost. So I managed to get the problem under control again quite quickly. But a strange feeling persisted and the worry of actually getting sick. I therefore preventatively only ate plain rice for a while. Tastes just like it sounds, but hey.
Zatre La – mountain pass to Thuli Khara
The next morning, I had a slight headache and I felt a little sick. The residents of the lodges burn various plant leaves every morning for the gods. This smell increased my feeling of nausea but when we set off, I quickly felt better, thanks to the fresh air. The headaches and the nausea disappeared.
On this day, we crossed a pass at 4,600 m and then descended to our next lodge at 4,300 m . We made good progress, ate and drank regularly and felt good. We saw the pass high up, practically waving at us in the vivid colours of the prayer flags it’s decorated with. The last metres were quite tough after all and I was glad when we had reached the pass and the prayer flags. This was my highest elevation yet so I was all the more pleased that I had made it to this stage without major problems and feeling pretty good.
From there, we saw Cho Oyu with its gigantic ridge – goose bumps. Also because it got cold. Slightly below 4,600 m, there is a little tea house. We took a break there to drink some tea and eat a small piece of salami that we had brought and which the Nepalese also like very much. We reached our lodge a little later. At this point, we were quite exhausted and decided to have a little rest. But we didn’t manage to rest for long because we wanted to find some rocks for bouldering. That’s how we discovered a small pit where the lodge owners dispose of their rubbish. Initially, this sight in the middle of nature annoyed me quite a lot. But if you think about it carefully, the inhabitants don’t really have another choice. There are no rubbish collections or recycling facilities. Anything that can be burned is burned, the rest is dispatched out of sight into the woods or in deep pits.
The next night was terrible for me. Around 2 a.m., I got a bad headache and couldn’t get back to sleep . Even though I don’t like pain killers, I took a tablet. I eventually fell asleep and woke up feeling groggy around 7 a.m. At least, I no longer had a headache.
Every day is new!
This sentence rang true several times on my Mera Peak trek. No matter how the night or the day went, good or bad, it was only a snapshot, and the next day could be completely different again.
On the following day, we wanted to descend to Kote (Mosum Kharka). According to the map, this is a short journey of only 600 m in height downhill. At this point, we realised that the maps are very inaccurate, and you can’t rely on the information. At least the place names were spelled correctly. The journey went on for hours and hours, uphill and downhill. After around 6 hours at the end of the day, we arrived in Kote, with about 1,100 m of cumulative elevation gain behind us. To celebrate, we offered our porters a round of beer. The joy in their eyes was so immense, genuine and filled with gratitude – something we really hadn’t expected. That a small gesture like this can have such an impact – absolutely beautiful.
The travel guide book said to do without a hot shower because this uses up precious firewood unnecessarily. So we decided to have a quick wash in the stream. Unbelievable how much dirt came off our skin! Sun cream, sweat, dust etc. I immediately felt a little lighter, though that was probably just my imagination.
The food in the lodges was always the same. The basics included rice, noodles and potatoes that were optionally offered fried with cheese or with a hint of vegetables. Initially, this was good but became a little monotonous eventually. Our longing for fresh food kept growing stronger. Only the pizza usually featured tinned tomatoes which seemed like a revelation to us. After that, I had pizza every evening. In hindsight, this may have been a mistake because noodles would have been better for the calories required.
The next day, we ascended to 4,300 m again to Tangnag. The journey along a wild river fed by the Mera Peak glacier, for example, was very beautiful. The path meanders through the wild river bed down from a stunning heather field with a copper red glow and thousands of Edelweiß plants, and suddenly, a small Buddhist monastery appeared, nestled in the rock face. According to legend, there used to be a village for Tibetan refugees here. When an extreme snow storm cut off all the paths to the outside, a white yak appeared and led the villagers to Nirvana. The sad truth behind the story is that the villagers died because there wasn’t enough food. Ever since then, Buddhist monks have been praying in this monastery.
Training and weather changes
In Tangnag, we used a rest day to practise with our ascenders. We climbed a small rock using a rope for about 15 metres to get used to handling the ascenders. When we arrived at the top, we had to show that we were able to do abseiling. That’s no big deal for experienced climbers from the Elbe Sandstone Mountains, of course. A nod from our Climbing Sherpa Kaila then meant that we were suitably skilled. Around noon, the weather turned and got much worse than previously. Normally, the first harmless clouds would appear around 11 a.m. and would then turn into thick cloud cover by the end of the day. This time, it was different. Sleet came down and the wind picked up. We had a feeling that something wasn’t right. But: Every day is new, even when it comes to the weather! We hoped anyway.
The next day, we didn’t wake up to blue sky as usual. Even in the morning, the clouds were incredibly low and looked threatening. But we still managed to stay dry for the whole day when we ascended to our last lodge on our way to Khare. The journey to Khare led us up to 4,800 m (5,000 m according to the map) and was quite exhausting because the last 200 m of cumulative elevation gain were very steep. In the afternoon, we also climbed a small mountain of about 5,100 m. Slowly but steadily, we climbed and climbed and I kept feeling increasingly more positive. I’m in the right place, I thought. My mood had reached its maximum, and Mera Peak summit seemed within my reach.
The last camp
The next morning, we walked along the path to the base camp for a bit to become acclimatised. Up to 5,200 m, I felt really good, which surprised me. But suddenly, as if struck by lightning, I experienced a drop in performance and I felt totally weak. At the same time, the weather deteriorated. The clouds got thicker and thicker, the sun had disappeared completely by now and it got cold. We climbed down the steep path again as best as we could.
When we had arrived at the lodge, we talked about the day and how badly it had gone. None of us felt properly fit and the poor weather made our mood worse. Somehow, the good vibes from the previous evening had disappeared completely and our nerves were obvious. In addition, the weather forecast announced a lot of fresh snow which is associated with snow storms. We discussed whether we should give up and not climb Mera Peak without ever even trying it. In hindsight, I feel that the height had a major influence on us and on our mental state in particular. It’s not said for nothing that the higher you climb, the more morale will reduce. I would never have thought that this is the case even around 5,000 m, especially since everything had been going so smoothly up to this point. We didn’t make any decisions that evening but postponed them to the next morning.
I felt rubbish, had self-doubt and lost all enthusiasm for climbing the mountain I had trained so hard for. With this feeling, I went to bed depressed that evening. But sleep didn’t come easily at this height. During sleep, I relapsed into my usual breathing rhythm which is not enough for oxygen absorption at this height. I kept waking up gasping for breath in a panic. Through the thin walls of the lodges, I could hear that it was the same for the other mountaineers around me. That calmed me down a little.
The attempt to climb Mera Peak
When I opened the door of my room the next morning, I was greeted by a cloudless blue sky Darn it. We just wanted to give up because the weather was so bad and now this. About 10 cm of fresh snow lay at my feet – so how much fresh snow would there be on top of the mountain? Nobody wanted to make a proper decision, only Claus stood there and waited for us to get going. “Alright, screw it! That’s what we came for. Let’s go!”
We quickly packed up our things. A speedy breakfast and a lot of tea, and we were off. We slowly climbed back up the path from the previous day. It looked very different and was slippery from the snow. Somehow I couldn’t get going properly – but that had always been the case so far and after half an hour, things would usually improve. So I kept telling myself and tried to encourage myself. But it simply wouldn’t get any better. I felt all weak again and defeated.
No! I had trained and invested so much! I couldn’t just stop, not now! I was the fittest person in the team. Nobody had trained as much as me – could that have been the mistake?! I mentally kicked myself, aggravating myself even more. Matthias heard me breathing hard and noticed that I was having problems. He encouraged me, too. I told him in all honesty that I wasn’t feeling up to it. We had a brief chat about it and he told me not to get stressed out about it. If I couldn’t keep going, I could just return. Don’t risk anything was the thought but I didn’t want to hear that at this moment. Not to worry, it’ll be fine. But in my heart of hearts, I realised that Matthias was right.
A difficult decision
I felt more and more clearly that I was tilting at windmills. It simply wasn’t my day. At this point, I would be able to return by myself, without holding the others back or without one of the porters having to accompany me. I considered returning out loud. The others supported me no matter what my decision would be. Continuing or turning back: both of these things are brave, but turning back would require the courage to swallow my own pride and admit to myself that I wasn’t strong enough. I realised that I would not be able to cope with 1,200 metres of cumulative elevation gain scheduled for today, not at this height of Mera Peak, and I therefore made the extremely difficult decision to return.
I said good-bye to my friends and wished them good luck. I really had to bite my lip so I wouldn’t start crying. I headed towards the porters, took all my luggage and gave Tej, our guide, the salami from my backpack that we were all going to eat together at high camp. They all said encouraging words and tried to console me but there wasn’t much time.
That was it! Suddenly, I stood on the cliff’s edge and felt like a coward. Many thoughts crossed my mind. I had hiked so many miles to train and hardly saw my friends and family from Dresden this year because I had to save up my holidays. I used up the rest of my time for training. Deeply disappointed with myself, I sat down on a rock and got lost in my thoughts. It’s all been a waste!
I then remembered how my doctor told me that, if I was considering aborting the Mera Peak trek, I shouldn’t think about how much effort, time and money I had invested. I should be sensible and just return home safely. Easier said than done. That was something I had to get used to first. I noticed that I was getting increasingly tired so I got up and walked the path down to the lodge. I arrived feeble and spiritless and went to lie down in my sleeping bag straight away. I ate a good 300 grammes of chocolate and managed to sleep for 2 hours.
If I was this exhausted from a minor trek going up and down just 600 metres, what would it have been like up there? I knew that I had made the right decision but I still felt terrible.
The next day
I didn’t really feel any better. I didn’t even feel able to climb a small mountain behind the lodge. So I stayed in bed. Around 3 p.m., I eventually managed to get up. I walked around the lodge to get some tea and saw out of the corner of my eye that Matthias came staggering down back from his Mera Peak trek.
We hugged and he told me with complete exhaustion that they all managed to climb Mera Peak to the top, but never want to go back there again. Covered in ice and snow, the others gradually returned as well. When we all sat by the fire in the lodge a little later, I got a comprehensive account: the long journey to high camp at almost 5,900 m. High camp right next to the abyss of a 2,000 m drop. How they shared the salami and slept badly in the tent. How the rope team advanced every inch to the Mera Peak summit and watched the sun come up. When they had arrived at the top, the view of Mount Everest, Cho Oyu, Baruntse, Island Peak and many other mountains. I would have enjoyed that, too!
The journey back
Over the next three days, we returned to Lukla the same way we had come. Nobody could still be bothered to keep going; much less so along an already familiar path. But it had to be done. Surprisingly, I saw the journey in a completely new light now. The weather had improved, the sun was shining and the vegetation glistened with autumnal beauty. Red heather and colourful trees surrounded the path, everything was a sheer delight for me. In the lower levels around 4,300 and 3,800 metres, I was finally able to sleep through the night again and I noticed that my energy levels were improving. The further we descended, the better the mood became all-round. There were never any arguments but the tension that had accompanied us disappeared with every metre we descended. Even the food (almost) tasted better.
Our declared goal was to have a piece of apple pie in Lukla, together with some coffee and beer. Our desire for fresh food in particular kept increasing all the time. But first, we had to cross the Zatre La Pass at 4,600 m, which was buried in snow and made progress very slow. After that, however, we descended all the more quickly when the snow had gone and Lukla was getting close.
As soon as we had arrived in Lukla, Matthias went straight to a bakery and bought me a superb piece of apple pie. The most delicious piece of apple pie I have ever had in my whole life (sorry, Mum!). This was followed by the first shower in two weeks, and, for the first time, we finally slept in a proper bed again, with a duvet and pillows – amazing.
On the following day, we flew back to Kathmandu. We stayed for another five days to explore the city and to find out more about what makes the locals tick.
A few days later I asked myself if it was all worth it. And I can answer that with a resounding YES. The pictures in my mind and on my SD card, new experiences, friendships with my companions, these mountains, this country, the cultural mentalities were absolutely worth it! And I’m glad that I prepared for it all properly. At least I know that I tried everything to reach my goal and I can’t accuse myself of being lazy. Is there something I could have done better? I don’t know. Perhaps I’ll make it at the next attempt… Every day is new!
