Click

Everyone always asks me, "How did you convince your mother to go climb 21,247-foot Mera Peak in Nepal?" I respond that it was my mother's idea and that she was the one who introduced me to mountaineering. Mom had traveled with my grandmother, who was 70 at the time, to the Annapurna region 12 years ago and had always wanted to return to Nepal to climb, knowing that if she wanted to climb high, she had to do it while she was strong and healthy.

Mom also had a wake up call after a frightening health situation and realized that, at 57, it was time to enjoy life to its fullest. Mom heard about an all-women trek while learning how to ice climb in the White Mountains and was the first to sign up for the trip.

" In any situation, especially at altitude, people can differ on their perceptions and interpretations of events..."

"You have to come with me," she urged. "We can make a mother-daughter trip out of this. Besides, this may be the only time, between graduate school and a new job, that you'll be able to get away in the foreseeable future." So, it was decided. I was going. I began to learn how to ice climb with a guide in the White Mountains. Mom and I also learned the elementary principles of rock climbing during the summer, climbing White Horse and Cathedral Ledge in North Conway, New Hampshire.

My background in modern dance and fitness made these skills relatively easy to learn, and because I was unable to do most of my training in the mountains, I resorted to weight training and running. I felt confident that my years of physical activity provided a fitness level sufficient for the trek and to attain the peak. (Mom was also on an almost daily training regimen in a local gym.)

My personal reasons for going to Mera Peak were twofold. I had just completed my Master's Degree in Exercise Physiology and I looked forward to experiencing altitude first hand. I also looked forward to a month long vacation with time to relax, to enjoy the outdoors, and to learn more about the Nepali and Sherpa people. Mountaineering expeditions involve both collective and individual efforts. The recollections that follow are my views of the events that occurred on our expedition. In any situation, especially at altitude, people can differ on their perceptions and interpretations of events.

	click

Our trek began in Paphlu (6000'). The trekking organizer wisely decided to start here in order to let our bodies acclimate (rather than fly to Lukla which is at 9200'. After a detour to visit the Chiwong Monastery to see a celebration of Mani Rhimdu, which celebrates the triumph of good over evil, we began trekking through the Khumbu valley region, first to the Traksindo monastery which had beautiful mountain views, and then on to small settlements of Kharikhola and Pangkongma.

We passed through a huge rhododendron forest, camped in the hills and, after going over a series of high passes, camped at Tuli Kharka (14,500'). It was at Tuli Kharka that I became sick for the first time.

The tricky part about getting sick while trekking is that you do not know if it is altitude sickness or dehydration (or both). Many of the symptoms are the same (vomiting, headache, poor sleeping habits, loss of appetite, etc.,). We were very fortunate to have a pulse oximeter that monitored our resting heartrate and blood saturation levels. In this way, we could monitor our blood oxygen to determine if we were starting to have altitude sickness.

Normal oxygen saturation at sea level is 98%. As one climbs higher, and the pressure changes, the body is less able to absorb oxygen. To combat this, the body increases its heart rate and produces red blood cells. But, until red blood cells are produced, saturation levels decrease. Even when more red blood cells are created, saturation levels never return to the normal 98%.

When I arrived at camp at Tuli Karka, I already had a splitting headache. A few hours later I vomited. My blood saturation was approximately 80%, which was acceptable for our current altitude so we assumed that I was dehydrated and not suffering altitude sickness. I had not been consuming enough food and water. After discussion with the leaders, I agreed to start taking diamox, pack extra food during the daytime so that I could eat all day long, and drink at least four to five liters of fluid each day. The tricky part about taking diamox (which helps you acclimatize better) is that it also dehydrates you, because it is a diuretic. Thus, you need to drink at least one extra liter of water to stay hydrated.

"My mother is very independent, strong willed and, at times, stubborn. I figured that she knew her body well enough to ascertain if she should ascend any higher...."

After several days we arrived in Thaknak (14,700') where we met a man named "J" who was left behind by his expedition. His expedition leader claimed that J was too unfit and fat to progress any further. His understanding was that another group with the same company would be coming in a few days and they would pick him up. In the meantime, he was told to stay and get his meals at a nearby teahouse.

J complained of not feeling well so we took his saturation levels. They were approximately 65% and his resting heart rate was around 100 beats per minute. He also had symptoms of pulmonary edema. Later in the evening he worsened and we put him in our gamov bag. This bag decompresses a person approximately 3000 feet below the current elevation. Our trek organizer, a wilderness EMT, was excellent in providing the requisite medical attention, and in calling Kathmandu for a helicopter evacuation the next morning.

After a few hours J came out of the gamov bag feeling slightly better. However, in the middle of the night, he worsened. His saturation level had dropped to about 45%. By morning he was back in the gamov bag. The helicopter arrived a few hours later but by that time he could not walk unassisted and had to be carried to the helicopter. It was such a relief to know he was going to Kathmandu in a few hours time.

The negligence of J's trekking company is beyond comprehension. There was a lot of anger toward this company, which shall be nameless, for almost costing someone their life. While at the Kathmandu hospital he was diagnosed with HACE (High Altitude Cerebral Edema) and HAPE (High Altitude Pulmonary Edema), either of which can be fatal. (When we returned to Kathmandu, J contacted us and took us out for dinner.)

Right after this experience, we arrived at Khare (16,000') and finally to base camp at Mera La (17,800'). During our progression to base camp, Mom had complained of chest pain. After a rest day at base camp, she decided to progress to high camp the following day. My mother is very independent, strong willed and, at times, stubborn. I figured that she knew her body well enough to ascertain if she should ascend any higher. I also knew that she would not want me to pamper her in the least and so I didn't try.

	click

We left late on the morning of our ascent to high camp and I felt like I was playing "catch up" all day long. I was the last person in line of six other women and a few Sherpas. Every time we stopped for a break, I would catch up to the group and before I knew it, they would start climbing again. I figured I should be out of breath. Besides, we were at altitude; it was going to be hard work. I also felt a group momentum that was rushing to get to the top. I was tired, but I thought that was normal. Unbeknownst to me, Mom was behind with the leader, having chest pains which were radiating down her left arm.

The previous rest day I hydrated all day and drank at least five liters of water. But, on the morning of our ascent to high camp, I probably had about three to four liters of water with me. I did not want to drink it too quickly and instead I think I drank too little. I did not remember that at altitude, constant sweating, a faster respiration rate, and dry air causes one to lose a lot of water.

By the time I reached high camp (19,500'), I had a splitting headache. I could feel myself becoming dehydrated. I asked for hydrating salts but there were none. When my mother came into camp she told me bout her chest pains and our hopes of reaching the top of Mera Peak together had vanished. Mom knew that she should not go any higher. It would surely kill her.

I sat at the top of high camp while tears filled my eyes behind my glacier glasses. Nobody knew the sadness I felt for my mom and myself. Nor could they know my concern for my mother's wellbeing. I was then left with the decision to summit alone or go down the mountain with my mother. Fortunately, I did not have to make this very difficult decision, but the decision was made for me.

Despite trying to re-hydrate, I became very sick. I vomited most of the night despite a saturation level between 75-80%. I then had a bloody nose that would not stop bleeding and, of course, just when I thought it could not get any worse, I got my period. When you are sick in a tent at altitude, all you want to do is get down the mountain. At that moment all I wanted was to get my mother and me down safely.

Our descent down Mera was very slow because mom was still having chest pains and I was weak from dehydration. It was not until the next day when were leaving Khare that I realized that my mother could have died. I think I just sort of "blocked" it out and dealt with the situation at the time. But I recognized what a frightening situation this was for me, and for her. If my mother had gone into cardiac arrest there would not have been much that I could have done to save her life!

Leaving Mera Peak was very difficult for me. I had so many conflicting emotions. I was happy to be with my mother, who really needed me, but was also very sad not to have summited Mera Peak. My experience was very bittersweet.

January 2000, back in the United States:
Every day I reflect on my trip to Nepal. I am so grateful for my experience and grateful that we returned safely. Six of the 10 women who participated reached the summit. Despite some difficulties and disappointments during my Himalayan trip I would do it again in an instant, and look forward to planning another trip in the future. I realized that my purpose for this trek was not to attain the peak but rather to relax, enjoy the outdoors, learn about a new culture and have an adventure! Granted, reaching Mera Peak would have been wonderful, but my mother and I were able to see beautiful views from high camp including Mt. Everest, Kangchenjunga, Lhotse, and Makalu. I also enjoyed spending time with my mother and sharing my fears and disappointments with her.

Not all training can prepare you for what might happen in the mountains. I felt my fitness level was strong enough to climb to the peak, but I was unprepared for the possibility of dehydration. There was also no way to anticipate my mother would have any cardiac issues. (I am happy to say that she is doing much better now.)

This article would be incomplete without acknowledging our always cheerful staff especially Lhakpa and Numgil Sherpa whom made my trip and my mother's trip so special. Anyone that does any trekking must acknowledge the climbing Sherpas, kitchen staff and porters. They are essential to the success of the climb.

If planning a trek, one should carefully research the company and their credentials. If attaining the peak is the only reason for trekking then you should not go. I had so many wonderful, difficult, challenging, and fun experiences before getting to high camp, that attaining Mera Peak would have just been icing on the cake. My trip through the Khumbu valley region is something I will cherish for the rest of my life and I am happy that I was able to share this experience with my mother. I hope circumstances will allow me to return to Nepal, to visit my Sherpa friends, and to trek in the magnificent Himalayan Mountains.

— Kirsten Ward, MountainZone.com Correspondant
Kirsten is currently a Manager/Fitness Director at HealthFit in Needham, Massachusetts. She has recently finished her Master's degree in exercise science from the University of Massachusetts/Amherst.