We often dined with Laura, a solo female traveller in our group. Like us, she was well travelled, had an affinity for adventure and as a result had a great many interesting stories to share, making her good company. While in Jaipur, she mentioned how excited she was to be going back to Nepal. Twenty years earlier, she had trekked through the Himilayas to Everest Base camp and was keen to visit again. She planned to charter a helicopter to take her to base camp and much to our delight, invited us to join her. Given our short time in Nepal, we would land in Kathmandu, clear customers, sprint to the domestic terminal to meet our pilot and immediately board a helicopter. We jumped at the invitation and kept our fingers crossed while enroute from India that the weather would allow us to helicopter to base camp. Afternoon weather can be very unpredictable in the Himalayas! Much to our delight we landed to partly cloudy skies and calm winds and huslted to our waiting helicopter.
Laura chartered the helicopter through Fishtail Air, a private Nepali company that operates flights for high altitude rescue, medical evacuation and support for trekking and mountaineering expeditions in addition to everyday sightseeing. A little disconcerted initially when we were asked to step on a scale with our backpacks, we soon learned that this company was merticulous about safety – given the high altitudes we would be flying in, it was important to know exactly how much weight was on board to ensure adequate lift off. We would also travel with supplemental oxygen and first aid equipment on board. We watched as our pilot and guide did a brief inspection, then we boarded the chopper and went through a safety briefing with our pilot. Thumbs up, we were ready for takeoff!
Flying over the city proper, we got an appreciation for how densely populated Kathmandu is. Although not large in absolute numbers, Kathmandu’s 1.5 million residents are packed in a 24 square mile valley making it one of the top 25 cities in the world for population density. Multi-storied tenement houses packed tightly together blanketed the entire Kathmandu valley.
On the outskirts of Kathmandu, we saw several large furnaces surrounded by fields of red clay below. These are Nepali’s brickworks. We learned there are over 200 brick kilns operating in the Kathmandu Valley. The brick industry is important to Nepal, contributing over $400 million to the local economy while providing construction materials to house a growing population as well as employment. But this comes at a cost as most brick workers are poor Indian and Nepali farmers working seasonally whose families and children labor alongside them, living in impoverished conditions, often treated like slaves. Additionally, kilns fired by coal create tremendous pollution, causing respiratory problems for workers and local villagers.
Leaving Kathmandu and the valley behind, we approached the Himalayan foothills, an agricultural region with rolling grasslands, interspersed with trees. The highlands beneath us were terraced, creating a beautiful undulating pattern viewed from above. Farming is critically important to Nepal; cultivating wheat, corn and rice is the primarly occupation of most Nepalis and accounts for nearly half of the country’s export earnings. And nearly 70% of this farming takes place on the type of narrow rain-fed terraces we saw below. Like most things in Nepal, farming is not easy; the layout of these terraces make planting, weeding and harvesting a mostly manual, back breaking operation.
Approaching the high mountain peaks, we noticed the cloud cover thickening and fretted that we might only see clouds at base camp. Our pilot radioed ahead to an operator at the Everest View Hotel, a lodge at 13,000 ft with a birds eye view of the world’s tallest mountain, who assured us that the weather was clear. After another half hour of flying, we approached a small town nestled on the side of a mountain with a small runway. This was Lukla, the site of the Tenzing-Hillary airport, Nepal’s highest airport at 9337 feet and flanked by several 22,000 snow covered peaks.
We touched down briefly at the Lukla airport to offload the fuel that we would need for our return trip to Kathmandu. Now I understood the point of the scale. As we fly to higher and higher altitudes into thinner and thinner air, we must reduce total weight to stay aflight. We stayed onboard and watched the crew of another helicopter offload colored plastic containers of fuel as our pilot did the same . On the return flight, we would have a longer stop with time to dismebark and walk around the airport.
Back in the air, we vectored towards the high mountain peaks and as promised, we cleared the clouds as the chopper ascended. Our first clear, up close view of a snow dusted peak sparkling in the sunlight against the backdrop of blue sky was breathtaking!
Fifteen minutes later, we touched down near the Sherpa village of Pheriche at an elevation of 14,300 ft, a popular spot for acclimating on the Everest base camp trek. We landed near several large dormitory like buildings. All was quiet. We saw one lone trekker and our guide explained that trekking season was just starting. Over the next several weeks, the area would be alive with hikers, trekkers and expedition support teams.
Pheriche is also a wait stop, a place where helicopters offload passengers and cargo to halve their load for the flight to base camp, then return for them on a second trip. My husband and I would be the second trip, so we and our back packs exitted the helicopter, ducking down to avoid the whirring blades. Once clear, we watched Laura and the pilot take off towards base camp. In about twenty minutes when the copter returned, we would exchange places with Laura.
It was surreal standing on the desolate outskirts of Periche at 14,000 ft surrounded by majestic snow dusted peaks towering another 10-12,000 ft above us. In the distance, we saw the treacherous Khumbu glacier that climbers must scale to reach Camp 1. We were surprised that we were not tromping through snow and that there was just a dusting of snow on the surrounding peaks.
A stiff breeze was blowing but even with our lightweight coats, it was not uncomfortable. We could definitely feel the altitude – we’d quickly ascended over 10,000 feet from Kathmandu, so with hearts pounding a bit harder, we explored the area while waiting for the helicopter’s return. The land was barren and rocky; a shallow, but fast moving river, the Imja, coursed by our landing pad. Again suprisingly, the river was running well below its high water mark; at this time of year, we thought snowmelt would have swollen the river.
Soon we flet the pulsating thrum of the helicopter rotors, and watched as it emerged between the crests of two mountains. We hustled to exchange places with Laura for the 10min ride to base camp, or what is really called, Kala Patthar, a more stable spot where helicopters land to access base camp. Cloud cover was slowly moving in and we crossed our fingers that we would get a clear view of Everest.
As the helicpoter climbed, the panorama unfolding before us was stunning. Steep sided, jagged peaks with snow white glaciers nestled in their crevasses and bases deeply carved by erosion were juxtaposed against a deep aquamarine colcored sky.
As we prepared to land at Kala Patthar, we got our first glimpse of Everest. From our vantage point, the mountain looked smaller than the peaks surrounding it. But unlike the surrounding peaks that are brilliantly white with snow, Everest is black with a few glaciers clinging to its imposing flanks. As the highest mountain on earth, Everest has its own weather system and the strong winds typically present at the summit blow the snow around its peak creating a halo of clouds. Its profile resembles a mighty pyramid.
The helicopter landed in an open area that still had the remnants of prayer flags flapping in the wind. The altitude here is just over 18,000 ft. Exitting the helicopter, we immediately felt its effects. Not only was my heart pounding furiously in my chest, but I felt lightheaded, like I’d had one too many cocktails.
Between the amazing mountain vistas and the physical effects of altitude, there was no doubt that we were on top of the world. An additional bonus – there was no one else here! The climbing season was still several weeks away so we had this special place all to ourselves. Awestruck, we turned in circles to take in the full panorama and appreciate the sensation of being enveloped by these majestic mountains.
In the few minutes that we stayed at Kala Patthar soaking in the granduer of the landscape, clouds began to envelop the peaks. Our guide helped us with pictures and hastened us along – it was now mid afternoon and weather in the Himalayas can be unpredictable as the day progresses.
Exhilerated and breathless and feeling rather tipsy, we climbed back into the helicopter, ducking our heads to avoid the whirring blades. Back to Pheriche to retrieve Laura.
Th sun was still shining through scattered clouds as we left Pheriche so we had some incredible close up views of craggy peaks and the snowy glaciers that fill their crevasses.
As we got closer to Lukla, it became cloudier and light rain moistened the copter’s windshield. Lukla is known for its dynamic weather, notorious for canceling and delaying air traffic. Approaching the Tenzing-Hillary airport, we could make out Lukla’s many shops and lodges that cater to tourists and trekkers. Ribbons of colorful prayer flags draped the many trees surrounding the village.
Through the mist, we approached the airport’s short runway. Tenzing-Hillary airport became infamous after a program on the History Channel named it the most dangerous airport in the world due to its short, single runway for both arriving and departing flights, fast changing weather, limited visibility, poor terrain and no safe go around for a missed approach. Built in 1964, under the supervision of Sir Edmund Hillary, the airport was originally intended to be built on flat farmland but instead was constructed in its present day location when he was unable to procure level land from local farmers. Hillary was said to be unhappy with the soil composition of the runway, but despite this reservation, it was not paved until 2001. Fortunately for us, we would land on one of the newly constructed cement helipads.
We had about fifteen minutes to pit stop and explore the airport while our pilot retrieved the extra gasoline we’d left behind and refueled for the journey back to Kathmandu. In 2008, Lukla’s airport was christened the Tenzing-Hillary in honor of Sherpa Tenzing Norgay and Sir Edmund Hillary, the first mountaineers confirmed to have summitted Mt. Everest as well as for their support in building the airport. The airport terminal was modest; a single restroom, administration office, storage room and small waiting room with a couple of chairs.
Hearing the clacking of hooves on cobblestone, we looked below to see a mule train carrying packages into the village, the Himalayan ‘Amazon’ delivery service. Given the complicated logistics and expense to fly goods in and out of Lukla, most supplies come by pack animal. With the trekking and climbing season just a couple weeks away, there was a flury of activity in Lukla as the town provisions for the season.
As our helicopter banked and left Lukla, we got one last view of the world’s most dangerous airport, the village and its myraid of prayer flags. Colored prayer flags with printed mantras, blue for the sky, white for the wind, red for fire, green for water and yellow for earth, are ubiquitos in the Himalayas. Himalayans believe that as the wind flutters the flags, blessings and goodwill from their mantras spread across the land. Given the inherent risks in climbing and trekking through this magnificent, but powerful natural landscape, I’m sure additional blessings are appreciated!
It is not uncommon for Lukla to be misty and rainy while the weather in Kathmandu is fair and sunny. True to form, as we approached the city, it was clear enough that we were able to do a bit of aerial sightseeing. Below us we saw a large copper statue. The helicopter circled to give us a closer look at Kailashnath Mahaddev, the second tallest Shiva statue in the world. Made from copper, zinc, steel and concrete, the statue is 143 feet tall, perched on a pedestal atop a small hill in the Bhaktapur District outside of Kathmandu. Shiva is one of the most important gods in Hinduism and is revered by the 80% if Nepalis who identify as Hindu.
We arrived back at the Kathmandu airport safe and sound, our heartbeats back to normal, no longer feeling tipsy. Our time in the Himalayas whet my appetite for more. Although I probably won’t do the base camp trek from Lukla, I vowed to return. A stay at Hotel Everest View could be in my future …. The pull of the Himalayas is just too strong to resist.