Everest, of course, gets all the attention, but for my money, the most lovely mountain of the trip by far is Ama Dablam. At a height of over 6,800 meters (22,000+ feet), Ama Dablam lords over the valley to its northwest, and for several days it looms as a dominate feature for Everest base camp trekkers. Ama Dablam means “Mother’s necklace.” The mountain’s high hanging glacier resembles the dablam (a traditional double-pendant containing pictures of the gods) worn by Sherpa women, while its long ridges on each side bring to mind the arms of a mother (ama) protecting her child. If the rapidly thinning air (we’d go from 62% sea level oxygen to 60% s.l. O₂ today) wasn’t doing it already, the constant views of Ama Dablam would have been enough to take our breath away! [For climbers, Ama Dablam is the third most popular Himalayan peak requiring a permit. Although well over a mile shorter than Everest, the mountain can still be deadly. On the night of November 13, 2006, a large serac calved off its hanging glacier, and swept away several tents at Camp 3, killing six climbers (3 European and 3 Sherpa). A few days later, we were reminded of the constant danger faced by the intrepid Sherpa guides, when we had lunch in a teahouse run by the young mother widowed by this tragic accident.]

We awoke to a chilly morning in Phortse. There were icicles hanging from clothes on a nearby line. Once again there had been an overnight snow shower, and once again we were treated to a spectacular cloudless sky. As we ate breakfast, in the surrounding fields we could see women already busily working the potato fields for the new growing season, digging up seed potatoes and spreading small piles of manure set out over the winter.

Phortse sits above the confluence of the Dudh Koshi and the Imja Khola, which we will now be following for the next few days. Our immediate goal is the village of Pangboche, located much closer to the river, which accounts for our modest elevation gain of only 120 meters. The trail is not as crowded as it was below Namche, but our group is by no means alone. A group of returning trekkers passes as we take a break, and I can’t help smiling at the guitar case I spot high atop one porter’s load. The phrase “everything but the kitchen sink” comes to mind…. A trekker next to the porter notices my reaction and she becomes a little defensive: “It’s not mine, it’s not mine! It belongs to this other guy. And I don’t know why he brought it. He only knows two songs, and can’t play either one of them very well!!!” I recall a sign we encountered just outside Lukla: “Porters are the backbone of trekking in Nepal. Hire them. Treat them well!” How true, how true…