Bills 31, Dolphins 21

Of the roughly 25,000 men who have ever suited up for an NFL game, for many reasons, few are more fascinating than one Ryan Joseph Fitzpatrick. Born and raised in Arizona, Fitzpatrick studied economics at Harvard and also quarterbacked the school's Ivy League football team. In the 2004 season, he led the Crimson to a 10-0 record and and Ivy League championship. He scored 48 on the Wonderlic Personnel Test and that score is the highest ever recorded for an NFL quarterback. By comparison, current Bills quarterback Josh Allen scored a 37.

Fitzpatrick was drafted in the 7th round of the 2005 NFL draft as the 250th overall pick by the St. Louis Rams. Including his current team, the Miami Dolphins, he has played for eight NFL teams over his 15 year career. This included four seasons with the Buffalo Bills - from 2009 through 2012 - where he started all 16 regular season games in both the 2011 and 2012 seasons. Known in good times as "Fitzmagic" and in bad times as "Fitztragic", his play has swung wildly between brilliant and horrific - from season to season, game to game and within games, from series to series. Known as a risk-taking gunslinger of a quarterback, over his career he has been a paradox - often showing flashes of brilliance in an individual game only to eventually throw a critical interception at the most inopportune time to seal a loss. He is the only quarterback in NFL history to throw four touchdown passes in a single game with five different teams (including the Bills). He has never played in an NFL playoff game as he seems to bounce around the league's bottom feeders as a capable back-up who always seems to have a notable impact on the fortunes of whatever team he finds himself on - usually a positive impact in the short term and negative one later on.

It was clear to me that Fitzpatrick and the Dolphins were motivated and well prepared going into yesterday's game in Orchard Park. For a team widely expected to complete the 2019 season without a win, the Dolphins played hard and at times played well. Fitzpatrick looked solid in the first half before fizzling out later in the game. For a 17 point underdog widely believed to be in "tank" mode this season, the Dolphins looked like a team which was long on effort and short on talent. This is a testament to the Dolphins coaching staff and probably to Fitzpatrick himself whose play yesterday replicated a common pattern he has shown over 15 years - strong play early on with his team well-positioned to pull off the biggest upset of the NFL season so far, then a crucial interception as his team was on the verge of another score. He even engineered a late touchdown, taking the ball to the endzone himself, to bring the Dolphins to within three points and a chance at recovering an onside kick.

Looking at the score this morning, a casual NFL fan might think that the Bills had built a comfortable lead before softening and allowing the Dolphins to rack up some garbage time points and earn a back-door cover. But the game was uncomfortably close for Bills fans until Micah Hyde sealed the win by returning an onside kick for a touchdown to restore a ten point margin. Good teams win close games and bad teams lose them.

The Bills play a much better Philadelphia Eagles team next week in the second of three consecutive home games in Orchard Park. The Eagles lost badly last night in Dallas and will present the Bills with the their second-biggest challenge of the season so far.

Canadians will elect a new government today in our 43rd general election. I'm glad that the campaign is over as it seemed to be far longer than needed with few interesting or relevant developments along the way. I predict the following: The Conservatives will not fair quite as well as expected and the Liberals will win the most seats but will fall short of the 170 needed for a majority. The NDP will win enough seats to hold the balance of power in a minority parliament and they will demand from the Liberals in exchange for their support, among other things, that the Trans-Mountain pipeline project be scrapped. How the Liberals decide to deal with this demand will be a large question - one with critical national unity and environmental implications. 

Bills 14, Titans 7

Few scenarios are more satisfying for a football team, its coaches and its fan base than closing out a game, while holding the lead and the ball, by gaining first downs on the ground, making the opponent use its remaining time-outs and, finally, lining up in victory formation and watching the game clock wind down to zero after the head coaches have already made their way to mid-field to shake hands. The reason why its so satisfying is that everyone watching, including the defensive team, knows that this is what you're going to do - thereby removing any element of surprise or uncertainty around your offensive play calling - and yet you are still able to exert your will and get it done. The Buffalo Bills achieved this objective yesterday in Nashville to seal another road win and improve their record to 4-1.

Most NFL head coaches would probably choose to have their bye week later in the season than earlier. Injuries and fatigue usually accumulate through October and November and a late bye week before a final push toward the playoffs  - rather than on Canadian Thanksgiving - is generally preferred. But for the Bills, the two week break which they begin this morning is a welcome "blessing" according to head coach Sean McDermott whose team was bitten by the injury bug again yesterday on both sides of the ball. On the offensive line, centre Mitch Morse (ankle) and right tackle Cody Ford (head) went down but the back-ups performed admirably, particularly on the final game-sealing drive. On defence, linebackers Matt Milano (hamstring) and Trent Murphy (head) left the game but the Bills defence didn't miss a beat either. When the Bills next suit up, at home against the lowly Dolphins on October 20th, hopefully these players, along with rookie running back Devon Singletary, will be back.

Two more head injuries to Bills players yesterday continued a disturbing trend for the team and for the league. Steelers quarterback Mason Rudolph suffered a devastating helmet-to-helmet hit yesterday against the Ravens and a close-up shot from an endzone camera appeared to show him lose consciousness before he collapsed to the turf where he lay motionless for longer than Josh Allen did last week. Rudolph was taken to hospital and later released. Expect him to miss some playing time from this. As for Bills players Ford and Murphy, they have two weeks to progress through the NFL concussion protocol. Josh Allen can help them understand what to expect.

Cairo Santos has had his share of tragedy in his life. The Brazilian born place-kicker's father, a pilot with the Brazilian airline Varig, died in plane crash in 2013, Santos' senior year at Tulane University. He was signed as an undrafted free agent in 2014 by Kansas City where he played three seasons before bouncing around the league seeing time with the Bears, Rams and Bucs before being signed by the Tennessee Titans on the eve of the 2019 season. He missed four field goals yesterday, tying a post-merger league record. His final miss, on a 53 yard attempt, sailed laughably wide right. I was quite surprised when Titans coach Mike Vrabel chose to try the kick on a fourth down and four play with his team trailing by a touchdown. The Titans will likely be working out new kickers this week but there may be few to choose from as 2019 has not been kind to kickers with veterans Adam Vinatieri and Stephen Gostowski, among others having their struggles. The Titans are not the only team looking to upgrade at the place-kicker position.

The Bills defence continues to show that it is an elite one in the league - easily in the top three. This means that (1) the team will usually be able keep games close and, (2) offensive game planning can be pretty conservative - an ideal scenario for the continued development of their second year quarterback. If the Bills can get Devon Singletary back and continue to develop their running game with the fleet-footed and illusive rookie, offset by the straight-ahead veteran Frank Gore, Allen should find opportunities to make big gains down the field - something which he has been hesitant to try to do in the last couple of games.

After the Dolphins in two weeks, The Philadelphia Eagles visit to Orchard Park on the 27th could be a marquee match-up. 

Patriots 16, Bills 10

There is only one scenario where an NFL team can play a home playoff game without winning their division. And its about as unlikely as the Miami Dolphins winning a game this season. It involves the fifth and sixth seeded teams playing in a conference championship game which would take place at the home of the fifth seeded team. Win your division - and there are eight of them - and you will have a home playoff game. Make the playoffs as a wild card team and you will be on the road for all of your playoff games (except as mentioned above). The New England Patriots have enjoyed what seems like a perpetual stranglehold on the AFC East since Tom Brady began his career as their quarterback in 2001. Over that almost 20 year period, the Patriots have won the division every season except for two. The Buffalo Bills last home playoff game was in December, 1996, back when fewer teams made the playoffs and each conference's two wild card teams met in the first round. The Bills lost that game, the last of Jim Kelly's career, to Jacksonville.

Yesterday in Orchard Park, the Bills had their best opportunity in more than 20 years to lay the foundation for their first division title since 1995. But they couldn't quite get it done. A blocked punt which was returned for a touchdown was the difference in the game which saw the Bills in position to steal the game as they drove for the winning touchdown before the Patriots ended the game with their fourth interception late in the fourth quarter. The loss came despite the Bills defence holding the Patriots to 11 first downs and 224 total yards and the offence managing to the score the first and only touchdown against the Patriots through a full quarter of the season. In a game dominated by defence, the Bills went toe-to toe with the Patriots but fell short again, sending their fans home disappointed but perhaps not as disillusioned as they have been after previous blow-out losses to the Patriots in Orchard Park over the last 20 years.

Micah Hyde said after the game that if one of his teammates had hit Tom Brady the way that Jonathan Jones hit Josh Allen early in the fourth quarter (sending him into the league's concussion protocol where he would remain for the rest of the game) they would have been ejected from the game. Head Coach Sean McDermott said after the game that "there is no room in football for a hit like that" and also suggested that Jones should have been ejected for the hit. The NFL's senior vice-president of officiating Al Riveron, reached by Buffalo News reporter Vic Carucci after the game, disagreed. He said "we looked at it and in this situation, we didn't feel that contact rose to the level of ejection.......we have standards for ejection and this did not rise to that standard". Jones, for his part explained that "there is never intent to hurt anyone. We were running around playing football." And maybe that's the problem.

During the CBS broadcast, Dan Fouts commented after Allen's injury that they are trying to coach helmet-to-helmet hits out of football. Well, I'm skeptical. It just might not be possible to remove these hits from tackle football, regardless of instructional changes in junior football or the severity of penalties handed out to the offenders at the college or NFL level. It's part of football and always has been. Legendary ABC college football play-by-play broadcaster Keith Jackson used to look forward to teams "cracking some heads" when previewing an important rivalry game. If Josh Allen had been playing in the NFL 20 or 30 years ago, he probably would have missed one play after the hit he took yesterday. "You had your bell rung; get back out there" the coaches might have said to him. After the play which laid him out, Allen jogged to the locker room after being evaluated under the blue tent by an independent neurologist and was seen walking around and talking with team officials after the game. It is too early to say but I predict that he will play next week.

Rob Gronkowski retired from the NFL in March and is now promoting his new CBD product line which he says has helped him become pain free for the first time in many years. At a promotional press conference earlier this month, Gronkowski explained (presumably to give context to the efficacy of his CBD products) that in his football career he had nine surgeries and 20 concussions, including five black-out incidents. He also suggested that any injury, including CTE, the affliction which can result from repeated head trauma, can be fixed and that the CBD product which he now promotes (as an investor and a consumer) has cured his headaches and "fixed" his issues with head trauma. After Gronkowski made this claim, a prominent behavioural neurologist publicly called him out, saying that neurodegenerative diseases like CTE or Alzheimers can not be fixed and will eventually win.

I like throwing and catching a football but I never played the sport in an organized setting. I do enjoy the game as a spectator and the fact that it is dangerous for those who play has not changed that, even as we learn more about just how dangerous it might be in the long term. For now anyway. So, on to next week where the Bills travel to Nashville, the scene of Homerun Throwback, one of the most infamous and devastating plays in Bills playoff history.   

           

Bills 21, Bengals 17

The Knox family name has been prominent in Buffalo, NY for well over a century. Seymour Horace Knox made his fortune in five-and-dime stores which were eventually merged with similar stores owned by Frank Winfield Woolworth. Knox was an early board member of the Marine Trust Co. which became Marine Midland Bank. His grandson, Seymour H. Knox III, along with brother Northrup Knox and attorney Robert Swados, successfully applied for an NHL franchise for Buffalo which began play as the Sabres in 1970. Buffalo sports fans are now getting to know the latest Knox to arrive in town - one Dawson Knox - and they are liking what they see so far.

Dawson Knox hails from Brentwood, TN, where he played quarterback and wide receiver for Brentwood Academy. He suffered an ankle injury in his senior year and was overlooked by major college recruiters. He made the University of Mississippi (Ole Miss) team as a walk-on, converted to the position of tight end and "red-shirted" for the 2015 season. Despite his impressive physical attributes (6 ft 4 in and 237 pounds), in three seasons with the Rebels, he caught an uninspiring 39 passes for just over 600 yards. After his junior season, Knox declared for the 2019 NFL draft and was selected by the Buffalo Bills in the 3rd round as the 96th overall pick. He had not scored a touchdown at any level of football since his junior year at Brentwood Academy. Until yesterday in Orchard Park.

Knox caught a one yard pass from Josh Allen in the first quarter yesterday afternoon - one of three catches he made - but his 49 yard reception late in the 4th quarter is what Bills fans will remember this morning. After giving up a 14-0 lead and now trailing 17-14 to the winless and desperate Cincinnati Bengals, Allen hit a wide open Knox near the left sideline. Knox proceeded to bowl over defenders and break tackles, taking the ball all the way to the Bengals 22 yard line. A few plays later, Frank Gore dived into the endzone with the winning score, sending 70,000 sun-baked Bills fans home happy.

Effective tight end play can benefit an NFL offence in may ways - some of them more noticeable than others. The recently retired Rob Gronkowski was the most prolific pass-catching tight end in recent history but he wasn't exactly known for his run blocking. Dawson Knox now has three NFL games under his belt and it seems clear that he can run routes, catch the ball and break tackles. Based on what the rookie tight end has shown so far and in particular his performance before the home fans yesterday, the story of the Knox name, well-known in Buffalo for business success, philanthropy and professional sports, has the beginnings of an exciting new chapter being written by Dawson Knox.

I have been to plenty of early season games in Orchard Park but none hotter than yesterday's. Without the breeze which provided some relief from time to time, the visitor side of the stadium would have been unbearable as it baked in the late summer sun all afternoon. As did the parking lot beforehand. The spectacular weather (and the Bills 2-0 start to the season) meant an early arriving crowd and an absolutely full stadium with no empty seats to be seen. My new seats at the 44 yard line, 23 rows above the visitor bench were everything I expected in terms of sight lines and the civility with which older, long-standing season ticket holders enjoy their afternoon of football. No drunk or disorderly behaviour in section 111, that's for sure. Both teams scored touchdowns at each end of the field and we had an excellent vantage point for every snap of the game.

Next Sunday's game will present a monumentally larger challenge for the Bills than any of their opponents have through the first three games. Amazingly, the Patriots seem to have an even stronger team this season and could easily go 16-0. I know that my seats are highly desireable - particularly for fans of the visiting team. With both the Bills and Patriots at 3-0, interest in Sunday's game is as high as it could be for any week 4 game. So high in fact that within a couple of hours of the end of the game yesterday, my tickets which have been listed on NFL TicketExchange for a few weeks now, sold for almost $800 CAD for the pair. I hope that the Bills make me wish I had gone to the game. 

Bills 28, Giants 14

The Buffalo Bills began play in the AFL in 1960 and, until yesterday, the team has never posted two consecutive road wins to begin a season. In a quirky scheduling anomaly, both wins took place in the same stadium in New Jersey, meaning that the Bills may well finish the season with more wins in the Meadowlands than the New York Giants will be able to register through their seven remaining home games. Let's hope that the Bills can replicate their winning ways in New York state with five of their next six games in Orchard Park.

It felt that the Bills were in complete control of the game, even as they gave up an opening drive touchdown to Saquon Barkley whose five carries took the Giants 75 yards to the endzone. With efficient play on both sides of the ball for the remainder of the first half, the Bills posted three touchdowns and took a lead which they would not relinquish. Perhaps channeling a bit of Tyrod Taylor, Josh Allen reduced his turnovers from four last week to zero yesterday. Along with his ball protection instincts, his passing accuracy was likely the best we've seen in any of his starts. With some decent receivers to throw to and with Brian Daboll's creative play calling, he is really showing what the team's brain trust saw when they drafted him last year.

The game produced a couple of notable injuries. Of concern to Bills fans will be the state of Devin Singletary's hamstring. The rookie running back clearly pulled it on a fourth quarter play as he ran toward the left sideline. Head coach Sean McDermott had no update after the game. Hamstring injuries can range from a mild strain to something which could keep Singletary out for a while.

The injury which concerned me the most as a football fan was the apparent concussion suffered by Giants receiver Cody Latimer. Latimer caught a pass in the redzone and was hit by Bills safety Jordan Poyer a half nanosecond after the ball reached his hands. The league has been trying to rid the game of helmet-to-helmet hits but not only did Poyer's helmet connect directly with Latimer's on the hit, no penalty was called on the play. I know that even if a defender leads with his shoulder in initiating contact (the "right" technique and the one that is being emphasized in high school and college football), if the intended target turns or lowers his head before contact, helmets can and often do collide - sometimes with devastating consequences. Poyer (and his teammate Micah Hyde) is a talented and hard-hitting safety for the Bills and his ability to deliver punishing hits keeps opposing receivers honest on certain kinds of passing routes but the kind of hit he put on Latimer yesterday is one of a few glaring elements of tackle football which makes North American parents register their kids in soccer rather than in junior football.

At least Latimer was removed from the game and, after being subjected to what the NFL calls its "concussion protocol", was ruled out for the rest of the afternoon. Last week, the Giants top receiver Sterling Shepard wasn't so lucky. After taking a hit to the head, he appeared woozy but waved off the team's training staff, stayed in the game and ended up on the field for all but one of the team's 69 offensive snaps. Only after the game was he subjected to the "protocol" and then eventually ruled out for yesterday's game.

After two successful trips to New Jersey, the Bills return to western New York for their home opener against the Cincinnati Bengals. The Bills are an early six point favourite and should find themselves at 3-0 a week from now. With the Patriots home to the Jets next week, the schedule sets up a likely week four showdown in Orchard Park between two undefeated teams for the outright lead in the AFC East.

To mark the new Ken Burns 18 hour film on country music, a friend reminded me of a great Bob Newhart line: "I don't like country music but I also don't want to denigrate those who do. For those who like country music, denigrate means to put down."

Bills 17, Jets 16

For the first 10 or so years of my tenure as a Bills season ticket holder, each August I received from team, by way of an inconvenient trip to the FedEx pick-up depot in a nondescript industrial area near York Mills and Don Mills, a new ball cap, a t-shirt, a pin, a bumper sticker, a flag or some other piece of Bills branded gear. A few years ago, the pre-selected and directly shipped swag changed to a gift card which is redeemable at the Bills online store or at the stadium concession stands. Since I don't usually buy anything in the stadium, I pick and order items from the Bills online store and then pay a somewhat mysterious customs brokerage fee to FedEx when I pick up my package. Inconvenience aside, after all these years, I am certainly quite well equipped with Bills gear including shirts, jackets, shorts, a collection of ball caps, winter hats, scarfs, mugs, neoprene beer coolers, shot glasses and towels so this year, I chose a few small and more eccentric items, including licence plate holders and a pair of Bills branded socks.

As the excruciating first half of the NFL season opening game in the Meadowlands of New Jersey came to and end yesterday afternoon, I realized that I had somehow managed to sit down to watch the game without wearing a single piece of Bills branded clothing - something I rarely, if ever, do. So, realizing that the team really needed a re-start on offense as they entered the second half, I decided to don the socks at halftime. They ended up doing the job in the end but not before the Bills had dug themselves into a much larger hole - a 16-0 deficit - after giving up a safety (I still think Frank Gore made it out of the endzone on the first down play), a touchdown and a two point convert to the Jets in the third quarter.

Near the end of the game, CBS colour analyst Rich Gannon pulled out a stat which caught my attention: he said that, statistically, if a road team gives up 4 turnovers while the home team registers none, the chances of the road team winning the game are less than 1%. I have not independently verified this data point but it seems credible enough to me. As unlikely as the the Bills eventual victory was, and even though Josh Allen led the team to two 4th quarter touchdowns to steal the one point win, the Bills defence was the reason why the team finds itself at 1-0 this morning.

As bad as the Bills offense was in the first half, the defence was fantastic all day, holding the Jets to 223 total yards. Le'Veon Bell, who hadn't taken a hand-off in a year and a half, carried the ball 17 times for the Jets but only for 60 yards - an average of 3.5 yards per carry. Contrast that with the performance of Bills rookie Devin Singletary who rode the pines for the entire first half and then made the most of his 4 second half carries, earning 70 yards for an average of 17.5 yards. If he can maintain that per carry average throughout his career (and carry the ball 20 or more times every week), the Bills can trade all of their receivers away and run the ball on every down like teams did 100 years ago when the NFL began play. LeSean who?

The Bills could just stay in New Jersey this week if they wanted to. Next up is another game at the Meadowlands, this time against the Giants who were beaten soundly in Dallas yesterday and whose prospects for this season are not looking good. The Bills therefore have a good chance of starting the season with two road wins before coming home in two weeks to face the Bengals. I may order more socks.

     

Nepal 2018: Nigel’s Chronicle  

Prologue

Dateline: Toronto, March, 2018

I’m working from my home office and the phone rings. I can see that it’s Arthur Murdoch following up with me on a discussion we had about a trip he is leading in November to Mount Everest Base Camp. When we left off a few days ago, I said I’d think carefully about it and now he’s calling to try to close the deal. My adventure partner Shelley has already committed - and her sister Ainslie is close to doing the same - so I’m feeling the pressure from her too.

The NFL schedule won’t be out for another month so I have no idea how many games or which games I’d be missing by leaving the country – and the continent – for three weeks. I won’t use that as an excuse when I talk to Arthur, I thought; maybe I’m not fit enough and I don’t even like hiking that much anyway; I’m quite scared of heights and what about those suspended bridges? I don’t sleep well in a dorm setting; I often catch a GI infection when I travel to third world countries (as if I really do that very often); maybe I’d be in a better situation to do the trip in a year or two…..

“Hello Arthur, how are you?”

“Good. I’m trying to finalize the group for Nepal and I’m hoping that you will be joining us. Have you made a decision?”

He was clearly ready to deal with all of my excuses. In particular, he shot down the idea of waiting a year - or until next time. “Enough delay will allow you to use the excuse that you’re now too old to do it so that’s a good way to guarantee that you’ll never go”, he offered.

He was right. And I had nothing to counter this point. After addressing my remaining questions and promising me that single rooms would be available in the teahouses on the trekking trails, I had nothing left. Like a salesman who had overcome all of his prospect’s objections, he had me. I knew it and so did he.

Arrival

The streets of Khatmandu and the chaotic traffic they carry were relatively calm for our first encounter. After all, it was well past 11pm when we were all finally issued our tourist visas, collected our luggage and proceeded outside the airport to meet Connor, our Outward Bound Canada (OBC) lead course instructor, who had arrived the previous day to finalize and confirm some of the more important arrangements. With him was a man named Mingma who works for a tour company called Ang Rita in Khatmandu which OBC hires to arrange ground transfers, hotel reservations and other logistics. Mingma presented each of us with a marigold garland as he shook our hands and welcomed us to Nepal. The flowers were real.

After a short drive in a van with our luggage tied on top in a way which would probably be illegal in Ontario, we arrived at the Yak & Yeti hotel which is a quiet, gated oasis amidst the mayhem of the city. It looked and felt like a normal western hotel with crisp bed sheets and a television that worked. I tuned in BBC World News for a few minutes as I tested the electrical outlets to see if I could charge my phone (I could). After a 15 hour flight to Hong Kong where our newly formed group spent most of the day roaming around the busy streets and sizing each other up, followed by an evening flight to Khatmandu, “tired” only begins to describe how we were feeling. Breakfast, we were told, would be at 9.30am. Connor reminded us to use only the bottled water to brush our teeth. Good night.

After a good sleep and a shower, we caught the last 30 minutes of the breakfast buffet and had our first full team meeting around the hotel restaurant table. “What was each of us hoping to get out of this course (trip)?”, we were asked. I had been forewarned that there would be plenty of requests to share our feelings, hopes, concerns in a quasi-group therapy format. Sure, I can play that role, I said to myself, and being the team player that I am, I volunteered my bit early on in the session (an approach I stuck with throughout the trip and one which generally served me well): “I do a lot of wilderness canoeing in Canada and I’m hoping to find some of the same kind of enjoyment I get from that in this very different kind of adventure…” or something like that. Others talked about their goal of meeting the clear objective of reaching the “top” (not of Mount Everest itself of course but to make it to Base Camp and to the top of Kala Patthar) and the opportunity to learn some of the culture and history of a part of the world to which few of us had ever ventured. 

As I now know, OBC programs are called “courses”; the OBC staff who lead them are called “instructors” and, by extension, I suppose the participants are “students” in some sense. Nomenclature aside, I gather that OBC courses are intended to be journeys of self-discovery but within a team setting. Sharing in an open and safe environment was an integral element of the course I describe here and I was generally happy, if not eager, to share and to absorb and process the thoughts and feelings of my team-mates. 

After our team breakfast meeting, we re-boarded the van en route to the “Monkey Temple”. This mid-morning journey through the streets of Khatmandu was our first real exposure to its chaotic traffic with directional flow and lanes serving as only vague guidelines. There are easily 20 motorcycles/scooters for every car with various sizes of vans and trucks also mixed in. Traffic moves the way schools of fish do; at first glance, it looks like utter chaos with no rules of order. But as we moved between small streets and major thoroughfares on what felt like an untraceable route to the temple, I noticed that the flow of traffic actually does follow a logic – just one very different from the comparatively rigid traffic rules of Canadian streets. I also realized that there was something distinctly different about the use of horns. In Toronto, horns are usually used to express anger and as a means for the honker to point out that she has been wronged in some way by another driver. In Khatmandu, horns are used to sound brief warnings that the honker is about to enter or come through a particular space or that another driver may be getting too close (as in less than an eighth of an inch) to the honker. Horn use in Khatmandu appears to be about communication, cooperation and civility, rather than anger, indignation or aggression.

The Monkey Temple enjoys a prominent location offering views of the city and the surrounding valley. Dogs and small monkeys peacefully co-exist with tourists and vendors; they appear fully at ease with the daily throngs who pass through. Most dogs happily relax or sleep while the monkeys seem pre-occupied with searching for and perhaps stealing food if they get the chance. After an hour or so, we were back in the van and back in the mayhem (I use the words “chaos” and “mayhem” interchangeably in this piece to describe the traffic in Khatmandu) en route back to the Yak & Yeti.

The remainder of the afternoon was spent with final duffle bag packing and inspection by our OBS instructors with plenty of time to feel the stirring of butterflies in our stomachs as our trek to Mount Everest Base Camp - the reason we came all this way - was about to begin. The morning would come early with a 5am departure to the airport and the last leg of our air journey – to Lukla, known as the most dangerous commercial airport in the world.

After a somewhat chaotic check-in for the flight, I realized that I had I left my Kershaw knife, which I have had since 2002 and use exclusively (until now) on canoe trips, in my carry-on daypack and not in my checked duffle bag. By the time I realized this, the duffle was long gone through the check-in desk and probably on a cart on the ramp beside the plane. “If you have sharp objects in your bag, you will lose them”, declared the security official as she passed the carry-on bags through the x-ray scanner. Resigned to having lost my knife, in the hopes of minimizing the scene around its imminent seizure, I tried to make eye contact with the person who was watching the screen as my bag passed through. I was unable to do so because he was reading a newspaper. My daypack emerged from the scanner; I grabbed it and walked away. The only use I found for my Kershaw knife over the course of the trek was cutting 250mg Diamox tablets in half – something I did every day except for the two days we were above 5,000 metres (when I doubled my dosage).

The 27 minute flight to Lukla was uneventful in clear weather with the snow-capped Himalayas coming clearly into view to the north. The landing was smooth on the uphill runway and we were on the small ramp a few seconds later. As we got off the plane and started making our way to a teahouse for tea and a final team meeting before we set out, I noticed the faces of the trekkers waiting to fly out. They had just completed the journey we were about to begin and it reminded me of the scene from Platoon when Charlie Sheen’s plane finally arrives near the front line in Vietnam and he sees the hollowed-out faces and distant, blank gazes of those whose tours were finally over and were heading home. Except these trekkers looked just fine. Maybe a bit chilled but happy and healthy. If they can do it, so can we, I thought.

“Please share any fears you have” was the subject of the last official team meeting as we drank “milk tea” around the varnished pine cabinet-like tables which look partly like desks and are typical in teahouses. “I worry about having a GI issue”, I offered, embellishing a little by adding that I stopped going to Mexico years ago because I would come down with a case of the runs every time I went. Others mentioned trepidation around the physical challenge, the altitude and the cold. Unspoken were the reservations I’m sure we all had about spending the next 12 days with each other, uninterrupted, and in the context of whatever challenges – known and unknown - lay ahead of us.

The Trek Begins

After retrieving our trekking poles from our duffle bags, they were zipped up, placed in white grain bags then mounted and tied on the backs of three yaks which would accompany us on the entire trek. These particular beasts of burden were actually a cross-breed between yaks and cattle. Two of them seemed relatively docile but one had an attitude which would flare up a couple of times later on. The “yak driver”, a very cheerful man in his 60’s named Childress, was tasked with marshalling the yaks to Gorakshep, site of the furthest and highest teahouse on our journey, and back. They didn’t often travel alongside us but were either behind us or ahead of us somewhere along the trail. Sometimes they would pass through as we were eating lunch. They usually arrived at our nightly teahouse destinations within an hour of our own arrival, giving us time to relax, have some tea and peruse the dinner menus.

Day one of the trek took us mostly downhill from Lukla through various villages with plenty of teahouses, shops and small farms. A misty fog moved in just before we stopped for lunch where we were introduced to “Sherpa Stew” which is a thick, mostly root vegetable soup. Janet, an executive coach from Vancouver, presented the first of her “conundrums” which, after exhaustive questioning and analysis, we eventually solved. The poison was in the ice cubes.

After lunch, we came to our first suspended bridge over a deep valley. Being fearful of heights, I had worried about my ability to cross these bridges which allowed clear views, for those daring to look, through the strips of sheet metal under our boots at what was usually a raging glacial river far below. But much of my fear magically dissipated upon seeing the much higher level of anxiety shown by Mark, a media executive from Toronto. Mark and I became suspended bridge crossing partners. I led and he followed close behind me, repeatedly counting the stitches on the outer compartment of my day pack. We eventually learned to proceed first across these bridges so as not to be impeded by those who followed and wanted to stop to take photographs.

A second bridge led us to the west side of the river and the village of Phakding where we would stay the first night. For dinner, Mary and I each ordered something called a “pizza set” which included what looked like a pizza but didn’t have the texture or flavour of pizza as we know it in Canada. I mostly avoided pizza after that. The bedrooms were decent with en suite bathrooms. A small crying puppy awoke us in the night and had to be let outside by Shelley.

I ordered porridge for breakfast. Another mistake. It was thin and soupy. Later in the trek, I and others would discover muesli and hot milk. We departed on day two just after 8am in fine, clear weather en route to Namche Bazaar.

Namche

“Gore-tex sucks!” declared Connor. A cool afternoon mist had rolled in as we neared the end of the steep climb to Namche and, having felt a bit of a chill at a rest break an hour earlier, I had donned my Marmot Gore-tex jacket and a clammy perspiration was now getting the better of me.

“I have my pit zips fully open”, I replied, wiping my brow and wondering if I was feeling a bit of late afternoon hypoglycemia.

“Gore-tex doesn’t breathe nearly as well as they want you to believe it does. What you need is a windbreaker; not a raincoat. I can help you find one in Namche.” Connor offered.

Namche is the largest community in the Khumbu region, nestled along the side of a valley surrounded by steep mountains. With an elevation of 3,440 metres, its name is actually Namche Bazaar which describes the market which was in full swing as we arrived. We ascended past rows of vendors offering vegetables and other foodstuffs as well as a range of clothing and other basic consumer goods on the way to what seemed like a never-ending set of stairs to the teahouse where we would spend two nights to acclimatize to the altitude. It would also be the location of the last shower we would have for eight days. Part of Namche looks like a Swiss tourist resort with many shops catering to trekkers and selling all conceivable kinds of trekking gear, clothing and accessories – some of it actually name brand but much of it in the form of cheap and crappy knock-offs. And at least two “Irish Pubs” as well.

Our “acclimatization day” in Namche did not involve much sitting around. Instead, and to change things up a bit, we had a hike planned. And what a hike it was. Among other things, we got our first full view of Mount Everest after climbing straight up for a couple of hours to an exposed ridge. The visible part of the top of Everest is striated black rock and its peak showed the iconic plume of cloud spilling off toward the east. We continued on to the Everest View Hotel where we sat on the sunny deck, drank tea and took in the stunning mountain vistas.

We then descended northward into a picturesque valley and the village of Khumjung, home to a large monastery and a high school built by Sir Edmund Hillary in 1962. Our lead Sherpa guide Lhakpa attended the school where he learned sufficient English to become a trekking guide. After a satisfying lunch of noodles and mixed vegetables, we toured the school (it was a Saturday so classes were not sitting) before we made our way past a government yak farm and back to Namche.

Namche is also home to a monastery where the sitting monk happens to be the uncle of our Sherpa guide Mingma. Some of us went with Mingma to visit the monastery and his uncle who welcomed and blessed us each individually. He said to me that I would live to the age of 108. I was feeling quite buoyed by this revelation until I shared it with the others who reported that they each were told the same thing. Turns out that the number 108 is significant in Buddhist liturgy. Before we left the monastery, Janet handed her iPhone to the monk and asked if he would snap a photo of us. Standing in his bright red robes in the ancient monastery, he did that and then, without prompting or instruction, he switched the phone to selfie mode, turned, stood with us and snapped a hilarious shot of the group with himself in the foreground. As he handed the phone back to Janet, he asked her how she liked the iPhone 8S as he was thinking of upgrading to it himself.

Before dinner, a few of us joined Connor for a shopping outing. I was in the market for a non-waterproof wind jacket – which I easily found at one of the legitimate stores. I paid 14,000 Nepalese rupees – or about $140 USD – for a light Black Diamond jacket tested by Connor for breathability. The test is quite simple: literally see if you can suck air through it with your mouth and, if you can, it will breathe. I also got a sun hat with the blue eyes of Buddha above the word “Nepal” on the front and a buff.

Moving Above 4,000 Metres

Day 4 was bright and clear in the morning as we moved onward and upward from Namche toward Phengboche. After lunch, some minor group issues emerged with Shelley, a professor at the University of Toronto and Mary, an IT manager from Orangeville, feeling that our pace wasn’t quite fast enough for them. The issue was aired, the OBC instructors emphasized that the team would not split into faster and slower groups and we resolved to maintain cohesion and move on together. In retrospect, what was really needed was simply better spacing between us – especially on the steep and narrow sections with trekkers, porters and yaks clogging the trail in both directions at times. Shelley told me 30 minutes after our group discussion on the trail that she was happy to have had the chance to express her mild frustrations and that she had regained a peaceful state. Mary seemed to take a little longer to come around.

In the afternoon mist, we passed the large monastery at Tengboche (which we would visit on the descent) and descended again toward the river and another suspended bridge. The longest day of trekking so far brought us to the teahouse in Phengboche at 4pm. The rooms had exterior curtains hanging outside the doors.

Dinner was particularly good - for me at least – with delicious cheese and potato spring rolls and pasta with tomato sauce. After dinner, we split into groups of two to re-connect with what we were hoping to get out of the course and what success might look like for each of us. I paired with Evan whose long history with Outward Bound (including being a former member of the International Board) makes him well-versed in these touchy, feely group sharing moments which are much less familiar to me. When we reconvened, I talked about how pleasing it was for me to be cultivating meaningful individual relationships with each member of the group. Before bed, the cribbage board came out. Mark learned quickly. Connor took the game. Janet showed us a card trick.

Day 5 was bright and clear and cold. After breakfast, we watched Childress preparing the yaks for the day’s journey. Two were docile and deferential but one was much less so. We watched with a measure of nervous tension as Childress, who presumably has decades of yak driving and handling experience, very carefully worked a rope around the horns of our ornery yak who stood calmly but fixated on Childress. The look on his face said “I actually had other plans for today so you may want to re-think this business of getting that rope on my horns and then loading me up with duffle bags”. In the end, of course, he acquiesced.

After an early ascent to warm us up, a rather short and easy walk along an open meadow plateau brought us to Pheriche (4,300 metres and well above the tree line) and the Himilayan Inn, a teahouse where we would stay three nights in total. It has a large common room and the bedrooms are clean and comfortable with en suite toilets which require that the tank be filled with a jug from a large barrel of water for each flush. After lunch, Shelley and I circumnavigated the village and its many walls of piled stones. Ama Dablan, a strikingly steep and elegant peak overlooks the village from the south. At 3pm, we made our way to the Himilayan Rescue Association Medical Clinic for a presentation by the young staff doctors there – one from Minnesota, one from Belfast and one from Australia - on the effects of altitude on the human body, the various acclimatization strategies which are usually followed by trekkers and an in-depth look at the two main kinds of serious altitude sickness. It is the highest medical facility in the Khumbu. Multiple games of cribbage were played before and after dinner and I finally won a game.

Day 6 was our second acclimatization day. After a leisurely breakfast at 7.30am, we set out for our day hike which would take us above 4,800 metres under spectacular clear skies. Along the way, Janet floated her second conundrum which I eventually solved after listening to relentless questions from some of the others. I wasn’t really trying to solve it; it just came to me: the man who the bartender pulled a gun on had the hiccups.

As I now know, Outward Bound courses often include a “solo” element and our instructors decided that our Day 6 acclimatization hike would be a good time for it. So we dispersed around the slope – some higher, some lower, some around corners and none within eyesight of any of the others for a period of about 40 minutes. Upon regrouping, I spoke about the concept of geological time and how the mountains which surrounded us are the result of the momentum of the continents coming together and pushing the land skyward. Mark mentioned menu planning. Evan explained how he lay prone with his head facing Ama Dablan. Afterward, some of us walked a bit higher before returning to Pheriche for lunch. In the afternoon, I wrote a piece in the group journal about time machines and tourism in the Khumbu. After dinner, the three-handed cribbage game was razor thin with all three players within two points of victory. Connor won the game. Again.

My day 7 breakfast was apple muesli with hot milk and two boiled eggs. The weather was clear and cold. Again. We made our way to Lobusche at 4, 910 metres. For the first time, I did experience a very slight altitude related headache for the first couple of hours after arriving at the Oxygen teahouse in Lobusche. Extra water and some down time were the remedies. The ibuprofen and Tylenol I took had no effect.

As the dinner hour approached, the sunset on Lhotse was spectacular and easily visible from the east window of the teahouse common room. Just after the sunset, an equally spectacular almost full moon rose behind Lhotse. Many of us went outside for a better view and hundreds of photographs were taken.

After dinner, more cribbage was played. Most of our group retired early but I stayed up with Connor and Lhapka. As we sat, Connor, who is planning a trip to EBC with his family, asked Lhapka to list the names and prices of the teahouses we had stayed at so far. He obliged. I noticed that the teahouse prices for accommodation seemed low (I had only seen the food prices on menus). This led to a larger discussion about economics in the Khumbu and in Nepal generally.

Lhapka is a 27-year old trekking guide whose English is excellent. As our lead guide, he was highly knowledgeable, endlessly patient, always helpful and never unavailable. When Connor and I asked questions to dig deeper into the issues of exploitation, poverty and corruption in Nepal, at first he seemed reluctant to share his thoughts on these matters with us, his clients. But, seeing our keen interest in pursuing these questions, he soon overcame his reluctance and painted a compelling picture for us of how difficult life is for most Nepalese citizens. The plight of porters (whose back-breaking work is described in the epilogue) seems particularly harsh as they need to spend a large proportion of their earnings on food, all too often at full tourist prices. After his jarring description of the reality of life in Nepal, I retired to bed feeling sad and conflicted by what I had heard.

The Summit

Day 8 was going to be a big one. If all went according to plan (including having clear weather in the afternoon), we would reach Gorakshep (the highest village in the Khumbu and the “end of the line” in terms of indoor accommodations) and then, in the afternoon, the summit of Kala Patthar at 5,545 metres, the highest point on our journey and the closest we would come to the peak of Mount Everest.

   

The trek to Gorakshep was difficult for me. Not that it was overly physically challenging but most of the trail consisted of narrow passageways over and through rocky and undulating terrain, around large boulders, and over glacial streams. Most challenging was that it was particularly crowded with trekkers, porters and yaks moving in both directions, making for a claustrophobic and unpleasant experience. But we arrived at our teahouse in Gorakshep before lunchtime. The weather looked perfect for a sunset view of Everest from Kala Patthar.

After lunch, we set out up the steep but easy trail with Mingma in the lead and Lhapka sweeping. We reached the peak after a couple of hours and settled in to watch the setting sun, take photos, congratulate and hug each other and eat Pringles chips and Snickers bars.

Nuptse creates an optical illusion from Kala Patthar as it looks to be a taller mountain than Everest. It’s just physically closer and when the sun has almost set, it shines on the top of Everest and only on the top of Everest, thereby proving – as if it was needed – that Everest is indeed the highest point on earth. I took one of my best photos ever of the orange-coloured sun on the peak of Everest a few minutes before it set. After sunset, we descended two thirds of the way then stopped to watch the full moon emerge from behind Everest.

Back at the teahouse in Gorakshep, we relaxed for a few minutes before learning that the next morning would be a very early one with a 5am departure to Everest Base Camp. As we absorbed that news, Mark regaled us with a poem in anapestic tetrameter (like “Twas the Night Before Christmas) where he cleverly incorporated a humorous reference about each of us in the group and even worked in a mention of the ghost of Outward Bound founder Kurt Hahn.

My room at Gorakshep was a very small single along a narrow hallway with three other rooms just behind the common room. As I was drifting off to sleep, trekkers piled into the other rooms, stomping around like elephants and talking loudly in Eastern European voices and laughing for about half an hour. I returned the favour at 4.45am after I dressed and packed for EBC. Closing and locking the padlock mechanism on my door made a noise which could wake the dead. And easily wake sleeping Eastern European trekkers.

We did the trek to EBC in darkness for the first 90 minutes in rocky, barren terrain. A cold wind picked up after day break. EBC, which sits at the base of the Khumbu ice-fall, is nothing more than a flat rocky area within what looks like a gravel quarry – except that it lies beside the world’s tallest mountains. There are strings of prayer flags and some simple inukshuk-like monuments from previous groups. We stayed maybe 20 minutes, took some photos and had another set of congratulatory hugs. It felt anti-climactic especially after experiencing the wonder of the sunset on Everest from Kala Patthar the previous day. But we had made it to the furthest point on the journey and that felt significant. Now the long trip home was about to begin. Tonight, we would sleep in Pheriche, again.

The Descent

Anyone who has read Into Thin Air knows that the descent from a climb can be more difficult, more dangerous and more emotionally draining than the climb itself. I realize that the parallel between the 1996 Everest disaster and our trek is far too dramatic but the fact is that, although everyone in our group made it to Kala Patthar, attrition began to set in immediately afterward. Three were not up to the 5am trek to EBC and chose to sleep-in that morning. Those same three would not finish the walk back to Lukla.

After breakfast in Gorakshep, we began to re-trace our steps. The rocky terrain leading to Lobousche which I found so claustrophobic the previous day was easier and faster (and less crowded) as our pace was greatly increased from that of the previous eight days. We descended past the area of the climber’s memorial to one of our previous lunch spots from the ascent. Ainslie, an insurance underwriter from Moncton (and Shelley’s younger sister) had suffered through the night at Gorakshep with a GI issue which precluded her from having lunch this day. Others were suffering from head and chest colds with persistent coughing. The entire group would make it to Pheriche later that day but for Ainslie, it would be the end of her trek. 

Lhapka addressed the group after dinner. At the urging of Connor and me, he talked about the economic and political issues facing Nepal that the three of us had discussed two nights earlier - and expanded on them with more historical context.

Being a university professor, Shelley became interested in one subject which Lhapka spoke about: the state of the public schools in Nepal which is, apparently, terrible. The next day, she explored this further with Lhakpa and learned that a child in the Khumbu could attend a good (or a much better) quality private school for the sum of about $1,200 USD annually. Seeing the opportunity, Lhapka mentioned his niece (the daughter of Tenzing, a Sherpa mountain guide who joined us in Pheriche as an assistant guide on our ascent) to Shelley as an example of a child who could benefit from better schooling. She is six years old and lives in a village three hours walk from Namche – where we would arrive the following day. Shelley offered to sponsor the girl and cover her school tuition through the next several years. Tenzing arranged for his wife and daughter to meet us in Namche.

It was decided the following morning (day 10) that Ainslie could not muster the energy she required to walk with us. A chopper was ordered. She, Judy (an OBC instructor from Vancouver) and Mingma stayed behind to wait for the chopper to Lukla. 

The descent from Pheriche was easy at first on another fine, clear day but led to some challenging ascents after we crossed the river. Before lunch, we lost another group member, Carmen, a lawyer from Toronto (and Mark’s wife) to fatigue brought on by her chest cold. She hit the wall and needed to complete the day’s trek on horseback. Miraculously, she arrived at the Ama Dablan View teahouse in Kyiangjuma at exactly the time the rest of the group arrived on foot. She reported that the ride was harrowing at all times and particularly terrifying on the steep descents. The teahouse rooms were spacious with en suite automatic flush toilets.

In the morning of day 11, it was decided that Carmen would chopper out to Lukla to join Ainslie, Mingma and Judy. Our group was now reduced to nine: six OBC course participants, OBC instructor Connor and Sherpas Lhakpa and Tenzing. We forged onward to Namche where we toured a traditional Sherpa house, a mountain climbing museum (which included a slide show) and paused to take in a statue of Tenzing Norgay before lunch at the teahouse where we had stayed two nights on the ascent.

It was here that we met Tenzing’s wife and six-year old daughter who had walked the three hours from their home to meet us and, in particular, to meet Shelley (and to briefly see her husband on his way to Lukla). I said to Mark “its like someone called central casting asking for a cute six-year old Sherpa girl with pigtails”. She was nicely dressed, shy and simply could not have been any more appealing. Mother and father expressed their gratitude to Shelley for her offer to cover their daughter’s school tuition. It was a touching moment.

Late afternoon brought us to a teahouse in the village of Monjo which had hot showers in each bathroom (without a stall or tub – just a shower head on the wall beside the toilet and a slow drain in the floor). As I remarked at the time, in the ordinary course of our regular lives at home where most of us bathe every day, the shower in the room in Monjo would have qualified as quite possibly the worst shower ever, with weak pressure and constantly varying water temperature. But when it was hot, it was really hot and since it was the first shower for any of us in eight days, it was among the very best showers I have ever had. We shared some popcorn before dinner – by hygeinically pouring small amounts into small cups so as not to spread our germs any further. After dinner, more cribbage before Connor, Evan and I reflected on the trip so far and discussed some possible changes to itineraries for future EBC expeditions.

Day 12 would be our last on the trekking trails. It would take us through a lush valley where we stopped to watch a farmer steering his two oxen with a single plough blade. Industrial farming it wasn’t. I had the most delicious large spring roll for lunch before crossing the last two suspended bridges with Mark continuing to count the stitching on my day pack. He knows exactly how many there are. We arrived in Lukla around 2pm – earlier than some of us expected due, I believe, to a successful strategy of expectation management on the part of Lhakpa who had prepared us for a longer and tougher day. Trek over. We had done it. Now to re-unite our team.

Lukla to Khatmandu

As we walked through Lukla on our way to the teahouse for our last night before returning to Khatmandu, I noticed a barber shop offering shaving for men. After lunch, Evan and I paid it a visit. It was a cold shave with a straight razor in a covered outdoor stall for 300 rupees. Without realizing what I was in for, I opted for a “face wash” for another 300 rupees which involved a somewhat unpleasant and rough rubbing of the dead skin from my face, followed by applications of various creams and ointments. Evan wisely declined the face wash.

Before dinner, we topped up the tip envelopes for our Sherpa guides. Connor read a quote from Mark Twain about the completion of a difficult task: “I’m glad I did it, partly because it was worth it, but mostly because I shall never have to do it again.” Quotes were read most days – usually at meal times – and, although I generally indicated a positive reaction to them, the truth is that some of them seemed to me to be a bit too long, too clichéd and not always relevant. But not this one from Mark Twain, however. I will quite likely never trek to EBC again. Not because it wasn’t a worthwhile thing to do. It was entirely worthwhile. But because there are so many other adventures to pursue before I can imagine being ready to consider undertaking this particular one again.

Tuesday morning in Lukla and we were off to the airport which was less than 100 metres away. The chaos that is the Lukla airport early in the morning is something to behold: dim lighting, confusing check-in and luggage procedures, long security line-ups and overflowing crowds of would-be outgoing passengers clogging the terminal. Flights from Khatmandu arrive and depart early so as to minimize the possibility of cloud cover or mountain mist grounding them. The airport is strictly VFR (visual flight rules).  With our boarding passes in hand, we watched several flights arrive and depart as the terminal slowly thinned out. Finally, it was our turn. Pointed downhill on the east button of the 06/24 runway, the pilot throttled up while holding the brakes before finally letting them off. The plane accelerated down the hill (the runway has an almost 12 degree slope) along the 500m runway with the pilot rotating just as the plane was flung off the side of the cliff and into the air. We were in Khatmandu less than 30 minutes later.

Another journey through the traffic and we were back at the calm luxury of the Yak &Yeti hotel by mid-morning. As we waited for our rooms relaxing and napping by the pool, a gathering of high-ranking military personnel wandered outside to take photos. Most of them looked like Central American strong-men wearing full fatigues, tall black shiny boots, military baseball caps and aviator sunglasses.

Goodbye Nepal

After our rooms were ready, I had a sauna and then Ainslie and I navigated our way through the mayhem of the city streets to a pharmacy to get a supply of Sudafed for Shelley to cope with the flight the next day. By this point, she was in the depths of a miserable sounding cold. On the way back, we saw what looked like a lost but very cute puppy aimlessly wandering along the chaotically busy thoroughfare and looking up at passers-by as if to say “will you take me home?”

We had a group celebration dinner at the somewhat famous Rum Doodle restaurant, about a 20 minute walk from the hotel. It has long been a gathering place for Himalayan mountaineers and Everest climbers and bears the signatures and photographs of many of them, including Edmund Hillary. The margaritas were good but then Mark ordered a bottle of Australian Shiraz of which we only managed to drink two thirds – among the 12 of us. It was that bad. But the food was good and we had a fun night.

The next and last day in Khatmandu started with a team breakfast and a final group meeting which consisted of a thoughtful exercise where we sat together and passed around ten separate pieces of paper - one for each of us - where we each took a few minutes to write a personal note to each of our teammates. I have looked at mine, and its nine separate handwritten messages, a few times since returning from the trip. I predict that one of my nieces will throw it out, hopefully about 50 years from now. 

In the afternoon, we did some shopping in the Thamel district of Khatmandu where I confirmed just how poor a negotiator I am with the purchase of one of Nepal’s most expensive small yak bells. Then back to the Yak & Yeti, something to eat and some more waiting around. Just before we left for the airport, Mark recited another brilliant poem, this time a ballad, in the form of the Robert Service poem The Cremation of Sam McGee. He named it “Retreat From Kala Patthar”.

With a couple of hours to kill, we attracted considerable attention in the check-in area of the Khatmandu airport by playing cribbage on top of a pile of our duffle bags. Card playing is illegal for Nepalese citizens. Finishing the last game cost me about an hour in the check-in, immigration and security line-ups. We left on time and arrived in Hong Kong at daybreak. Those of us going to Toronto had 12 hours before our next and final flight. I spent the first couple of hours chatting with Janet before her flight to Vancouver departed and the remaining hours reading, having lunch at O’Leary’s and wandering the massive airport.      

Epilogue: in honour of the porters who haul freight on the trekking trails

The Things They Carried is a semi-autobiographical collection of short stories by Tim O’Brien about a platoon in the Vietnam War. The author was drawn to the small items – some sentimental, some eccentric and some bizarre – that American soldiers carried with them to remind them of home or to help transcend them from the hell of war as time allowed.

On our trek, the trails were quite busy at times as some 50,000 tourists come to the Khumbu valley every year. We learned to step aside (always to the uphill side) for yaks, donkeys and for the hard-working people known as porters.

As we encountered these porters who were carrying truly and, in some cases, literally staggering loads on their backs, I kept thinking that The Things They Carried should really be a story about Nepalese porters. The size and weight of some of the loads we saw on the backs of these poor souls defy proper description. Cardboard cases of dried chicken soup mix stacked eight feet high, massive loads of bottled water, cases of beer, chocolate bars, fuel cans – all destined to the teahouses where trekkers like us ate and slept - sheets of plywood, dimensional lumber, rolls of flooring and carpets, the duffle bags of countless trekkers; we even saw a porter carrying a full kitchen counter literally with the kitchen sink installed. Once at a rest stop we counted the amount of beer in one porter’s load as he was buying something in a shop. There were 12 cases of 12 beers each; that’s six cases of 24. I don’t buy cases of 24 anymore because I find them a bit heavy to carry the 25 feet from the trunk of my car to the back door of the cottage. But carrying six cases up steep and rocky trails, at altitude and for hours and/or days on end? This truly is grunt work of the most basic kind. Porters are paid by the kilogram so they’re motivated to carry as much as they can. Even so, most earn around 1,500 rupees (about $15 USD – which is a high wage compared to the national average) a day and then they have to eat – usually every day. We were not surprised to hear that many porters last only a few years before back problems force them off the trails.

I would like to thank these Nepalese porters for carrying the food and supplies we consumed at the teahouses. I hope that some improvement can be made to their remuneration formula – either in the form of higher wages or lower prices for the meals they need to sustain their bodies.