The phase of acclimatizing

Sunday, 13th of April - EBC

Yesterday afternoon, I didn’t do much. I read a little, enjoyed the sun, and waited for my duffle bag. Additionally, I managed to convince Chirring and Gyalzen to take a short walk to Crampon Point in the Khumbu Icefall. This is the place where only people with a permit for Everest or Lhotse are allowed to go further. On the way to the glacier, a group of yaks blocked our path, and as luck would have it, my duffle bag was secured on one of the yaks. We waited until the yak driver had untied the bag and the yak had calmed down a bit. After that, Chirring brought the duffle to my tent. Meanwhile, Gyalzen and I waited at the edge of the glacier for him and thought about the best way to cross the small meltwater stream. Unfortunately, I stepped on a wobbly stone, so I had to continue with a wet shoe. But since the sun was shining, it wasn’t that bad. It was nice to finally be at the glacier, even if it was just a short walk. The route had been marked in the morning by the Icefall Doctors with flags so that everyone knows where to go. From Crampon Point, we could spot 2-3 more flags, but beyond that, we could only guess the way. After a short look at the glacier, we turned back. I swapped my wet shoes for down booties and headed to the dining tent. Suddenly, I heard a female voice from the next camp, excited about a pee tent. I turned around and could hardly believe my eyes when I saw another Westerner. It turned out that the cheerful lady’s name was Gaby, she’s from the Netherlands, and she had been at the EBC for two weeks already. My entire crew and hers had failed to inform each other that there was a lonely lady in the other camp who would appreciate some company. She was pretty angry about that, as she had been asking for two weeks when someone else would arrive. I had also been repeatedly reassured when I asked when other climbers or trekkers would arrive. We immediately sat down together in my dining tent, where we chatted for hours. She has been here since last October to work on her PhD. She’s researching gender roles in expeditions and camps, if I understood correctly. She was at Ama Dablam last fall for her research and summited it at the same time. Then she went on to the Annapurna Winter Expedition Base Camp and has been here since early April continuing her research. She is integrated with SST and has her tent there. At the beginning, there were no dining tents or anything like that, so she had to eat in the Sherpa kitchen for the first week, or was allowed to. So, she now knows all the Sherpas, and they know her, so everyone should have realized they needed to inform Gaby when I arrived yesterday. 

At least we had some company, and she even stayed with me for dinner. We’re trying to meet up and exchange ideas during the next few weeks. She will get a permit that will allow her to go up to Camp 2, so she can make her observations on the mountain. I’m definitely looking forward to many more fun conversations. At 9 PM, however, she had to head “home” so it wouldn’t get too cold for the short but steep walk back. There aren’t many paths between the camps yet, and we’re practically sitting on bare ice, which is only covered with rubble. 

Wednesday, 16th of April - EBC - Shower

Today was finally, finally the day for the shower. Still in my sleeping bag early this morning, I hoped for a sunny day so I could wash my hair and dry it quickly. Since I barely heard any helicopters, I had to wait until I left the tent to see what the weather outside would be like. I got lucky—it was a bit windy, but sunny with a cloudless sky.

First, though, breakfast was planned. As usual, it was brought at 9 a.m., right on time. I stuck with scrambled eggs and toast, along with a small bowl of fruit. That’s something I can really eat right now, and I hope it stays that way. Afterward, the kitchen Sherpas got the shower ready and tried to explain to me how it works. It has a small motor with a button that you need to press to turn it on and off. Then you place the motor into a pan full of water, and the shower head starts running.

Since there was only a stool in the shower for clothes and the shower was luckily only about 10 meters from the dining tent, I laid everything out in the dining tent and hopped into the shower tent in my shirt and sandals. Since the air wasn’t too cold, I really enjoyed the shower and washed my hair thoroughly. It felt good to wash off the dust, sunscreen, and the little sweat from the last 15 days. I ended up using both pans of water so that I really felt clean by the end.

Back in the quiet dining tent, I really enjoyed putting on fresh clothes and hanging up the wet towels. Since the tent has two windows that let the sun shine directly in, drying my hair wasn’t a problem either. Before breakfast, I had already asked if someone could help me with the Wi-Fi issues, so I expected that someone would come by while I was drying my hair to help solve the problem. Unfortunately, that didn’t happen, and the longer I waited, the more the loneliness started to hit me. It had been five days since I’d heard from my family or friends, and I couldn’t share anything either.

Since everyone knew the schedule, they assumed I was off climbing Lobuche East as planned, which wasn’t true, and I couldn’t tell anyone. I also didn’t know if the bad conditions had been reported somewhere online and simply hoped no one thought to Google Lobuche East and get a shock.

Because of that, I couldn’t really enjoy lunch, so I spent 5 hours straight in the dining tent, charging all my devices. You never know when the next group will come in and take over everything. Mentally, today was definitely the hardest day, since even Chirring couldn’t help, and a call with Phunuru only happened after a few hours. Phunuru tried to figure out why the Wi-Fi had stopped working on the way back to Namche, after it had been fine until Saturday afternoon.

I had no choice but to wait, ignore my running nose, and keep myself busy. At some point, a lone climber named Valery showed up in the dining tent. We exchanged a few words, and he fully enjoyed his phone reception. I fiddled around a bit with the iPad, since I couldn’t borrow any new books without Wi-Fi and had already read all the ones I had. Then a group of Indians came in, said hello briefly, and left again. Shortly afterward, another lone Indian appeared, and he stayed for a while. It seemed like they had just arrived in EBC with Tashi after a 10-day trek and were now just waiting to fly back to Kathmandu by helicopter. He told me about the great hotel waiting for him, which didn’t really help my mental state.

Luckily, after about an hour, he was off in the helicopter to his longed-for hot shower and soft bed. I was still waiting for someone who would take my Wi-Fi issue seriously and help me. Everyone I asked either couldn’t or wouldn’t help. Valery sympathized with me but couldn’t offer much assistance either. The only positive news was that he knew Julia, a Russian woman who lives in Zermatt and whom I met on Manaslu, had arrived in EBC yesterday and was planning to visit him in the dining tent.

At some point, I got fed up with waiting and went to my tent to dress warmly, because with the clouds, the temperature would drop in the afternoon. Dressed warmly, I decided to look for the Wi-Fi guy named Ganesh, hoping I might run into Gaby or Julia along the way. In front of the coffee tent, I met three Russians from Seven Summit Treks, who told me they had seen Gaby somewhere near the dining tents. So, I went to one of them, opened it, and was totally shocked when I found it full of people. And there, I recognized one of them—it was Bianca, who had become the youngest woman to summit Manaslu just half a year ago. We had a long conversation in Samagaun during the monsoon period, so it was especially nice to see her on a day like today. She had been trekking the last few days with her father and friends, and they all welcomed me warmly.

Of course, I didn’t decline the invitation for tea. By now, I had felt nothing but loneliness all day, and now I learned that just 100 meters away, a fun group of Aussies had been hanging out all day—next to the group of Russians in the same tent. Not long after I settled into their tent, I saw Ganesh outside and immediately rushed over to him so he could finally sort out my Wi-Fi problem. However, he dug in his heels and refused to help, even saying that my login details wouldn’t work anyway. While I tried to argue with him, Chirring suddenly appeared with a message from Phunuru containing new login details. Funny enough, or should I say luckily, these worked perfectly, and just like that, my problem was solved in an instant, after I’d spent the whole day feeling useless and unimportant.

Even Valery had mentioned at some point that we probably weren’t leaving enough money here to be seen as important by anyone. He had similar worries—his climbing duffle had been on its way for 8 days and still hadn’t arrived in EBC. No one was able or willing to help him, no matter who he asked.

Back to the Aussies. Now I had Wi-Fi, but also some company, so I left my phone in my jacket pocket and fully enjoyed the time with them. Gaby suddenly showed up, and after what felt like 5 minutes, Valery entered the tent to tell me that Julia was outside. So, Bianca and I quickly went outside, where we chatted with Julia and Gaby for a bit. Valery said he would rather eat in the dining tent with the Russians, and I decided to let our kitchen crew know that we would be eating with SST tonight.

Although I had already spent 4 nights in EBC, I was still pretty out of breath when I sprinted 100 meters to the kitchen tent. It didn’t seem to be a problem that we were eating out for once, and they promised to have hot water ready for our bed bottles. So, I went back and had a wonderful dinner with the Aussies. It seems like they have a special role on this expedition, because without "my" Aussies, the trek or Lobuche High Camp would have been pretty lonely. I’m especially thankful for them today.

At 9 p.m., it was time to say goodbye. Except for Bianca and her father Paul, everyone else would be making the long journey to Lukla tomorrow, so there were lots of hugs and well-wishes. I rushed as quickly as I could in the cold to my dining tent to fill up my water bottles. From there, I went straight to my tent, put the water bottles in my sleeping bag, grabbed my toothbrush, and went outside to brush my teeth while watching the headlamps in the Icefall. I also had one last pee.

When I finally lay back in my warm sleeping bag and tested the Wi-Fi, I was incredibly relieved that it was still working, and I could finally respond to everyone in peace. So, it got pretty late before I could fall asleep, but I was definitely a lot less depressed than I had been a few hours earlier.

Friday, 18th of April - EBC 

The day once again began with waking up in a warm sleeping bag. Judging by the sounds outside, it wasn't going to be the sunniest day. When I finally peeled myself out of the sleeping bag shortly after 8 a.m. and unzipped the tent, I was greeted by about 5 cm of fresh snow and a partly cloudy sky. Juan Pedro was already sitting in the dining tent with a freshly made coffee in hand. We chatted a bit, and shortly afterward, breakfast was served. While we were eating, Valery slipped in, and by 9 a.m., Regina was also at the table. These are currently all the climbers present, although apparently more are expected to arrive today.

Yesterday, I finally met up with Jo, who, after 20 days of trekking and summiting Island Peak, has now arrived at her home base too. I got to know and appreciate her on Manaslu. She’s on Everest as a VIP, which means she has her own dining tent that she’ll be sharing with the six Russians who were also on Manaslu. After we had breakfast, she came over to us for a bit, and we chatted together.

I've now been uploading my blog for an hour and hope I can get everything online despite the snail-paced Wi-Fi.

Part II:
The attentive reader will probably guess where I’m sitting right now. There aren’t many options here. Our dining tent has quieted down a bit again after 21 Russians practically stormed in for lunch yesterday. But let’s start from the beginning and go back to last Friday.

Uploading the blog took me over two hours. That’s because I reorganized the homepage a bit and also had to translate the entire new text into English. I’m curious how many GB that will cost me each time. Shortly after I closed the laptop, lunch arrived. Most of the time, we have some kind of potatoes on our plates, along with either pasta or rice and eggs. Honestly, I can’t remember what exactly we had on Friday, but I do know that I returned every plate empty (Empty Plate No. 8–10?!). I always take my time with meals. Even though the food gets cold quickly, I just can’t scarf it down. And on rest days, you have all the time in the world—so why not enjoy eating slowly, too?

Even before lunch, I’d brought out a puzzle from my tent, which I continued working on during the wait and even while eating. It’s a Chinese wooden puzzle I ordered ages ago for very little money. The shapes of the pieces are different than usual, which helped time pass more easily. After that, I watched the fresh snow melt and once again chatted with Regina and Juan-Pedro.

As I passed by my tent later on, I noticed a small patch of artificial grass in front of it. The day before, the entire path between the tents had already been laid out with it, and I’d joked that they had forgotten my tent. Looks like they caught up on that now. I’m not entirely sure what the point of it is, but a bit of green can’t hurt in this otherwise white, red, and rocky landscape.

On Thursday evening, a group of Sherpas also headed into the Icefall to continue supplying Camp 2 with equipment. Chirring also set out to carry up some gear. He mentioned two tents and “other stuff,” whatever that might mean.

When the sun came out briefly in the afternoon, I decided to do a bit of handwashing. We’re hoping for sunny weather tomorrow, so the clothes should be dry by then at the latest. Doing laundry here is pretty simple: you let the kitchen crew know you want to wash clothes. They heat up a large jug of water and then give you two metal basins, one of which is already filled with hot water. In front of the kitchen tent is the Sherpa laundry station, and if it's free, you're allowed to use it.

I don’t know if I was doing it right—the few Sherpas who passed by the wash station either grinned or watched with mild curiosity before moving along. My approach was as follows: first, I put two or three items of clothing in the empty basin. Then I poured hot water from the other basin using a plastic cup, added a bit of soap, and swirled and rubbed the clothes until the water wasn’t quite so clear anymore. Then I wrung them out slightly and set them aside. I repeated the process until every item had at least briefly come into contact with soap and water. I also emptied the dirty water now and then. Afterward, I rinsed all the clothes again in clean water to get most of the dirt and especially the smell out. Finally, I wrung everything out well and packed it into a bag.

I walked back to our row of tents and carefully hung everything up. Just as I finished, another layer of clouds rolled in, so the clothes got maybe 20 minutes of sun at most. But since I still have plenty of clean clothes, it didn’t really matter. I hung my underwear up inside the tent just in case—it can get unexpectedly windy during the night.

After washing, I returned to the dining tent for the usual evening chats with Valery, Regina, and Juan-Pedro, and my Tolino e-reader. As always, it was straight into the sleeping bag shortly after dinner, either to try the Wi-Fi or to read a bit more.

Saturday, April 19 – EBC – Fiesta Mexicana

Today was marked by brilliant sunshine without even the tiniest cloud in the sky. Contrary to what the kitchen team had told us, no new guests arrived today. Honestly, we were all a bit relieved—somehow, we enjoy the calm and the slower pace without the hustle and bustle.

Once again, I had fried eggs with toast and a piece of fruit for breakfast. Afterward, I wanted to do a bit of reading when Juan-Pedro suddenly said it was too hot inside the tent and he wanted to sit outside for a bit. No sooner said than done—everyone grabbed a chair, and we headed down to our row of tents. At the end of the row, there’s a little spot with a direct view of the Icefall. Juan-Pedro’s tent is there, and from now on we’re calling it his front yard.

I also dragged along a thermos full of black tea, and Dipen came with us to make sure we had everything we needed. It was beautifully calm with no wind, so we sat there in our thin long-sleeved sun hoodies—Juan-Pedro with a Mexican hat, and I even rolled up my pants and went barefoot for a while. Unfortunately, I had forgotten that my legs hadn’t seen the sun in ages. The result came the next day in the form of a rather annoying sunburn on my shins.

But the two hours in the sun were truly enjoyable. We watched climbers on the route through the Icefall or others practicing their techniques on the glacier. We listened to music and sat together in silence. I also brought out the Theos—after all, they also need regular sunlight and fresh air 😊

Valery had set off toward Camp 1 in the morning, and we wondered whether we might catch a glimpse of him somewhere. But the distance was too great to see more than moving figures.

When it was time for lunch, we happily headed toward the dining tent, which was still very warm inside. A bit later, Juan-Pedro went to fetch all the chairs again, and once more we were amazed at how little it takes to be completely out of breath up here. We’re talking about carrying four chairs over 150 meters with about 10 meters of elevation gain.

After lunch, I read a bit more, and when it got cooler, I moved into my tent. Most of the laundry had already dried, so I could bring it back inside. I also changed into my nightwear early because around 4 PM I headed to the coffee tent of the company 8K Expeditions, where I had plans to meet up with some other climbers over a hot chocolate.

The official path goes 20 meters down and back up again, with the tent maybe 400 meters away as the crow flies. But I chose a path through the Sherpa tents, where I got a few odd looks now and then. Still, I made it safely to the coffee tent in about 10 minutes.

There, I met Julia—a Russian who lives in Zermatt. I had exchanged a couple of sentences with her on the way from the summit to Camp 4 on Manaslu. We mostly kept in touch through occasional text messages on Instagram.

Then there was Bianca from Australia—the youngest person to summit Manaslu, whom I also met last year at base camp. When we were all stuck in Samagaun, we had long and meaningful conversations. She’s here now with her father, aiming to become the youngest Australian (male or female) to summit Everest.

Her father had climbed Everest with her mother 20 years ago. Well, her mother summited Everest while Paul had to turn back due to an oxygen tank malfunction—he summited the year after. This will now be his third expedition.

There were also two Brazilians there, but they left shortly after and were replaced by Mitch. I had run into Mitch 1.5 years ago on Ama Dablam. He was on his way back to Camp 1 after his summit, while we were on our way up. We met briefly at the Yellow Tower—the most rockfall-prone section—so we only exchanged a few words. Still, he remembered me when I spoke to him briefly this year in Lukla.

Now we finally had more time to talk. His path to Everest is probably the most impressive I’ve ever heard. His journey started on September 15th: he set out to complete the world’s longest triathlon. First, he swam from England across the Channel to France, then biked from there to India. From India, he ran a series of marathons all the way to Kathmandu. He stayed overnight at the British Embassy there and then followed in Edmund Hillary’s footsteps, trekking to Lukla. After a 10-day rest, he continued to EBC with his trekking group.

Now he’s here, preparing like everyone else for the summit attempt on Mount Everest. If you want to follow his journey in detail, just search for Mitch Hutchcraft on YouTube or Instagram.

After two hours of laughing and chatting, I headed back to our dining tent, where everyone else had already gathered so we could eat dinner together.

 Sunday, April 20 – EBC – Happy Birthday Daddy

 Another rest day was on the agenda today. I’m honestly getting tired of just sitting around—I can hardly wait to finally do something different. But today would have been my dad’s 77th birthday, and I took that as an opportunity to head down to the glacier after breakfast and build a little smiley face and a heart out of stones for him. I took my time—I certainly have enough of it today. It’s actually fun doing things like that out here, since I haven’t really done anything like it since I was a child. 

The sun was shining once again from a cloudless sky, and there wasn’t much wind either. Other than that, today’s summary is simple: I ate three meals, tried multiple times to get the Wi-Fi to work, drank my usual 3 liters of tea and/or water, visited the pee tent regularly, and read an entire book. 

Around 4 p.m., I found myself back in the coffee tent—this time in our own, as it’s now open. We had agreed yesterday to meet there today because it’s bigger than the 8K tent. It was the same crew as yesterday, but this time Bianca’s father was also there, as well as Ewan, a Californian I’d only spoken to briefly at Manaslu, but who still remembered my down suit. Bella was there too—she trekked to EBC with Mitch and is spending a week here. She wants to write a book in the next few years about why people climb 8000-meter peaks and plans to attempt Everest herself in two years. A few days ago, she summited Lobuche East with Mitch’s group, and after leaving EBC, she’ll also be trying Island Peak before heading home at the end of the month. 

She read us her editorial, and we already know the book will be a great one. I’m curious how long it will take before I can hold it in my hands. I’ll have to be patient for a few years, but life has already shown me a few times that the wait is often worth it. 

Today, Mitch and I discovered that our connections to Everest have lasted about the same number of years and have evolved in a similar way. It’s always fascinating talking to him, even though he speaks at a breakneck pace. Luckily, I’m not new to English—otherwise I wouldn’t understand a word. He seems a bit like someone driven by something, who can hardly believe that after all these years, he’s really here to attempt Everest. I feel the same way, and I see the same emotions in his eyes that I feel: disbelief, pride, respect, a little fear, and a whole lot of anticipation. 

During those hours in the coffee tent, we talked about all kinds of things. It’s always fascinating to me how quickly strangers can open up and talk about very personal topics. Everyone is here for a different reason, yet within minutes, we become a kind of community you don’t find anywhere else. Anyone who has been on a mountain expedition will understand that feeling. I won’t even try to explain it further—you simply have to experience it yourself to understand what I mean. Take this as an invitation to sign up for a multi-day trek (no, it doesn’t have to be in the Himalayas) or to plan one on your own and go out and do it. I promise you won’t regret it. 

Around the usual time, it was time to leave the coffee tent—no one wants to be late for dinner. I was greeted by Chirring and Gyalzen, who told me that tomorrow we’d finally be heading onto the glacier for some practice, so that I’ll be ready whenever we’re cleared to move toward Camp 1. After dinner, I packed the essentials into my backpack so I’d be ready to go in the morning. 

 Monday, April 21 – EBC – Glacier Training

 Another sunny day awaited me as I stepped out of the tent this morning. Embarrassingly, the kitchen crew had to come get me out of my tent because I mistakenly thought breakfast was at 8:30 a.m. Since Saturday, it’s actually been at 8:00, and I had simply forgotten. I’d been awake since 6:30 a.m., as usual, just couldn’t convince myself to get up. So at 8:15, Dipen had to come down to my tent to check if everything was okay. I felt a bit ashamed, since I usually make a point of being on time. The kitchen crew, led by Nathi, does an excellent job, and I don’t want to make things harder for them. They fulfill every request, listen to us, and do everything to make sure we’re well taken care of. I’m deeply impressed every day by how much love and attention to detail they put into their work and how much we matter to them. Being late feels like a no-go. But they took it with humor, and five minutes later I was already sitting in front of another plate of toast and a hot veggie omelet. 

I took my time eating, and at 9 a.m., Gyalzen showed up to tell me we’d be heading out around 9:30. After breakfast, I went back to the tent to change clothes for training. I wanted to pack all my gloves so I could practice with each pair and mentally prepare myself for the first steps in my big boots since Manaslu. Regina and Juan-Pedro would also be practicing on the glacier today, so we all met at 10 a.m. at the already prepared course. 

The goal for me was to get back into the rhythm of walking on ladders, using the ascender, and rappelling. The first round was a disaster. I tried to drive the front points of my crampons into the ice, where they wouldn’t hold. Still, I put my full weight on the spikes, which promptly slipped. Within two minutes, I had two aching knees and started questioning what I was doing here. I know I can do better than that—it just seemed like I needed a few minutes to get my head back into it. Completely out of breath and in pain, I reached the top. My harness was also a bit too tight, and it felt like breakfast was about to come back out—one way or another. So I took a few minutes on the platform to calm down and focus on the short traverse. That part went fine, although I didn’t fully trust my crampons yet. 

The final part was rappelling, and Gyalzen insisted on clipping the rope into my device for me. Strangely enough, the 11-meter vertical wall didn’t bother me at all, and I was back down in half a minute. Still, I wasn’t happy with my first run. The pain in my knees would probably stick around for a few days—totally unnecessary. While Regina and Juan-Pedro were doing their run, I took some time to drink and focus on what I can do. I practiced a few rounds on the ladder and quickly remembered how to position the steps under my boots. I also tried to lean forward so that the rope would stay taut without help from Gyalzen or Chirring. I really hope I can manage that on the actual route—there, the ladders will be hanging above deep glacier crevasses. 

The second round went much better. I took more time to place my front points properly, and I’d adjusted the harness beforehand. Luckily, the sore knees didn’t really slow me down, and after just under five minutes, I was back at the bottom. I kept going for a while longer, doing multiple rounds on the ropes and constantly switching gloves so I could practice every motion with liner gloves, thick fingered gloves, and even my heaviest mitts. When I had to wait, I crossed the ladder a few more times and made sure to climb both to the left and right of the rope and switch arms so I wouldn’t build habits and would tire my arm muscles evenly. The Icefall route changes all the time, so I want to be mentally prepared for that. 

After just under two hours, the training session wrapped up and we packed everything away. I was content and just hoped I wouldn’t be sore the next day—otherwise, it would really shake my confidence. The normal duration through the Icefall is 6–8 hours, so if I was already sore after 2 hours of training, that would be a bit discouraging. 

We headed back to the dining tent for lunch, as usual. When we arrived, there was a bit of commotion—apparently 21 Russians were expected for lunch, trekking toward EBC. Luckily, we were able to eat in peace before they arrived. As soon as someone said they were five minutes away, I gathered my things and made my way to the coffee tent. On the way, I passed the group—some of them looked totally wiped out. I greeted a few, but got no response, so I left it at that and disappeared into the coffee tent. I was enjoying a hot chocolate when one of the Russian women—probably a guide—came in and started talking on the phone with Tashi. Tashi owns 14peaks, and his brother runs a helicopter company. Apparently, some of the trekkers wanted to fly straight back to Namche or Kathmandu—they didn’t want to spend another minute at altitude. During lunch, the kitchen crew told me that five of them were planning to stay and attempt Everest. Turns out they’re the same five I briefly encountered at Manaslu Base Camp last year. We had our own dining tent then, so we only interacted with them outdoors or in the coffee tent. They usually sat outside on rest days, one of them smoking a pipe, and in the evenings you could hear guitar music coming from their tent. 

I wasn’t alone in the coffee tent for long—soon Bella, Bianca, Mitch, Ben, Ewan, and the rest trickled in, and we stayed there until just before 6 p.m. At some point in between, I went to my tent to put on warmer clothes. Once the sun goes down, it gets significantly colder. It also helps to change while the tent is still a bit warm, not after dinner when it’s already freezing. 

I wasn’t particularly looking forward to dinner. The Russians had taken over the whole dining tent, and thankfully Regina and Juan-Pedro were there and saved me a seat. So the three of us squeezed into a corner of the table to eat. The other two left shortly after dinner, and I didn’t stay in the tent much longer either. Some people were coughing, and I felt too cramped in the corner, as if I couldn’t get enough air to breathe. I tried to decline the piece of cake they offered me—unsuccessfully—so out of politeness, I ate two or three spoonfuls and then slipped off to my tent. There, I read a little more and hoped for a calmer day tomorrow. 

 Tuesday, April 22 – EBC

 The night was quiet once again, although I woke up two or three times as people were still heading to bed late in the evening. It seemed like the dining tent had been occupied longer than usual. I headed over a bit earlier than normal this morning to make sure I could get a seat at the table with Regina and Juan-Pedro. They were already there, having their breakfast. They were leaving us for 3–4 days to climb Lobuche East. I'm curious to see what these days will be like without them—they’ve always been great listeners and conversational partners, and we share a similar sense of humor. I hope their outing will be worth it and that they’ll return well-acclimatized and happy. 

After saying goodbye to them, I went back to my tent to enjoy a bit of peace and quiet. The trekking Russians also left after breakfast, so by around 10 a.m., the dining tent had quieted down again. As I sat there, Dipen from the kitchen crew let me know that another large group would be arriving for lunch today—this time, 14 Indians. I got my lunch a little earlier again, so I was already in the middle of eating when the Indian group stormed into the tent. Within moments, I was surrounded by them, as the whole group wanted to sit together at one table, even though the other table was half empty. So I picked up my lunch and switched tables so they could have their wish granted. 

I followed the same strategy as yesterday—after lunch, I disappeared into the coffee tent, where I once again had top-notch company with the usual suspects for the entire afternoon. This time, Nelly Attar joined us as well—she’s known on social media, among other things, for her mountain clean-up campaigns. 

Right at 6 p.m., we parted ways again—I was hoping dinner would be a bit less chaotic this time. I sat from the start at the table with the Russians to make sure the Indians would have enough space. But as soon as I’d eaten, I made my way to the Seven Summit Treks camp. Most of my coffee tent friends were staying there, and they’d invited me many times to come over if things got too boring, cramped, or noisy on my side. 

Just ten minutes later, I was sitting in a warm tent full of funny and open people. They were still in the middle of their dinner, but were happy to see me. I ended up staying almost two hours, during which I analyzed photos from Paul, Bianca’s father, of his Everest summits in 2006 and 2007. It gave me a great overview of parts of the route I hadn’t seen in pictures before. It was also interesting to hear about his experiences and what he focused on during his second climb. 

We even started planning a joint acclimatization hike to Pumori High Camp for tomorrow—but that plan was crushed half an hour later when the Base Camp Manager gave a briefing announcing Seven Summit’s schedule for tomorrow: glacier training in the morning and oxygen training in the afternoon. 

Around 9:30 p.m., I made my way back to our camp, quickly filled my bottles with hot water in the dining tent, and then slipped into my sleeping bag. 

 Wednesday, April 23 – Pumori High Camp

 Today was another acclimatization day. Since Chirring and Gyalzen set off towards Camp 2 last night, I was going to be out on my own today. It was almost funny how motherly the two of them were yesterday when I told them I’d be fine going solo. They told me exactly what to pack (the same stuff I’ve been packing for the past three weeks), that I should apply sunscreen in the morning, and not hike too fast—as if I’d never been out on my own back home. But it shows me how much they care about making sure I’m well-prepared, and also that they trust me at least a little. I promised them I’d check in as soon as I got back and take good care of myself, especially on the way down. 

So after breakfast, I set out just before 9 a.m. toward the lower end of EBC. That part takes about 20 minutes. The famous EBC rock marks the start of base camp, and no matter what time of day you pass by, someone’s always posing in front of, on, or around it. After about half an hour, I was already on the ridge that lines the edge of the glacier, ready for the steep climb toward High Camp. I took the path I remembered, but clearly veered a bit off course near some rocks. I ended up in a scree field and had to fight my way through it slowly and carefully—big rocks, small rocks, slippery rocks, solid rocks, gravel, scree, and dirt—I worked my way in the right direction. I knew I’d reconnect with the path at some point, and after 40 minutes, I saw a small group climbing just above me. Less than five minutes later, I was back on the trail. 

I decided to follow that group to make sure I didn’t lose the path again. That worked well—they were hiking just a bit faster than the pace I’d set for myself. I was walking at a rhythm where I could easily recite "Om mani padme om" in sync with my steps. When the group took a break, I continued on alone, since the path was still clearly visible. About 20 meters below the first platform of High Camp, I took a wrong turn again and had to scramble a bit. But since the slope wasn’t steep and the rocks were solid, it wasn’t a problem. 

Beyond the platform, I could see another faint trail heading further up, so I continued another 50 meters of elevation until I found a good spot to sit in the shelter of the wind. I spent a good hour there enjoying the view. I’d also brought the two Theos with me today, so they had to pose for a few photos too. There were two other groups there—I took some group shots for them, and they returned the favor by taking pictures of me. 

After just under 70 minutes, I packed everything up and started heading back. The path was easier to follow on the way down, and I always had a group in sight to help guide me, just in case. Only 30 minutes after setting off, I was already back on the side ridge along the glacier. My legs felt great both on the way up and down. I did get a bit more out of breath than expected while scrambling, but that’s probably because I moved a bit faster than I’d planned. 

Since I knew my tentmate from Aconcagua, Rebekka, had arrived at EBC yesterday, I didn’t want to miss the chance to visit her at her camp. She’s with Furtenbach, whose camp is near the lower end. Around 12:30 p.m., I walked into their dining tent and saw her surprised face. I was immediately offered a drink and invited to stay for lunch, but I’d promised my kitchen crew I’d eat with them, so I politely declined. Still, I really enjoyed the 40-minute visit—we caught up on small things. Hopefully, we’ll find more time to talk properly. Last time we saw each other was in Salzburg, when I spontaneously visited her for 24 hours in October while she was on vacation there. Mitch happened to be there too, having been invited to lunch by the company heads. 

When the group was called for their Puja ceremony, I set off again and walked the last 20 minutes back to my camp. I went straight to the dining tent so they’d know I made it back safely. Then I changed quickly so I could be somewhat clean for lunch. Unfortunately, I already had a bit of a headache, so I had to force myself to eat. It took me almost an hour to get through half the salad, and another 20 minutes for the small fruit plate for dessert. I drank a few cups of tea, but none of it helped get rid of the headache. 

For the first time since being here, I spent the second half of the afternoon in my sleeping bag, dozing a bit. I took a pill to ease the headache, but it didn’t fully work, so I still felt a bit drained by the time dinner came around. Even then, I couldn’t eat everything and went straight back to bed after brushing my teeth. I read for a bit, but with the headache, I just didn’t feel all that great. 

 Thursday, April 24 – EBC – Puja at Seven Summit Treks 

After going to bed with a headache last night, I had a rather restless night. Unlike usual, I had to get up twice during the night to pee. I saw headlamps in the Icefall each time, but they were moving much more slowly than on the nights when the Sherpas were out. I also had to take a second pill in order to get at least some sleep. When I woke up this morning, there was still a dull throbbing. I assume it’s coming from my neck, as the pillow is unfortunately too high, so my neck muscles can’t really relax. We’ll see if it improves over the next few days or not. 

In any case, I got up on time for breakfast and ate the vegetable omelette with Tibetan bread. Afterwards, I read a little, briefly talked with one of the Russian women, Anastasiia, who is unfortunately a bit sick, and then decided to do a bit of laundry again. Just like for the past week, the weather is wonderfully sunny, though very windy. That didn’t bother me—I still washed and hung up a few shirts, pants, and buffs. Nathi even gave me some clothespins so the clothes wouldn’t blow away. 

Then I headed over to the Seven Summit Treks camp, where the Puja ceremony was taking place today. I was able to watch the whole thing from the outside, which was actually quite nice for a change. Still, it felt strange that all my friends were being blessed, and I had to imagine experiencing the same ceremony tomorrow with almost complete strangers. People put rice flour on their faces, congratulate and hug each other, etc. All things I would have loved to be part of today—but could only watch from the sidelines. 

I hope tomorrow will feel warmer and more heartfelt than I’m imagining it now. Ideally, Regina and Juan-Pedro will also be back tomorrow, so at least I’ll have two familiar faces around. I didn’t feel like I belonged, even though—aside from not participating—there wasn’t really a reason for that. After the blessing, everyone stood in small groups, took photos, laughed, filmed videos, and I was just a passive observer. 

At least I finally got to thank Kristin Harila today for what she’s doing for us women in mountaineering. She’s one of the reasons I had the courage to finally take on Everest. I had reached out to her 2–3 times over the past three years, and she always responded thoughtfully. Being able to finally thank her in person for how important she’s been to me and my project makes me incredibly happy. Of course, it didn’t happen without tears this time either. I have no idea what it is about Everest that does this to me. I’m just so happy and proud, and I almost can’t express it without tears. Especially when I think that the 28 years I’ve been waiting for this have now been condensed into just one month. 

When all the blessed climbers gathered for a group photo, that was my cue to head back to my tent. I cuddled with the Theos and let out the rest of my tears. Then I checked on my almost-dry laundry and made my way to the dining tent, where lunch will be served in about half an hour. 

Friday, April 25 – EBC – Puja 

Yesterday's lunch was, surprisingly, a burger – maybe with a bit too much cheese, but otherwise quite good. Afterwards, I went to my tent to tidy up my clothes and enjoy a bit of time to myself. Then I headed to the dining tent to finish writing the blog. To upload it, I moved a bit closer to the router – aka the coffee tent – where I tried to get something done over two hot chocolates. Unfortunately, the upload didn’t go as planned, so I enlisted my sister as a blog assistant. 

Just as I was about to leave the coffee tent, Mitch and Stan showed up. So I treated myself to a third cup of hot chocolate and had a nice chat with them about the Puja, the schedule, and more. It’s always interesting talking with those two. Stan only stays in EBC part-time – his base is three hours away at the Italian Pyramid. He spends most of his time editing Mitch’s YouTube videos and Instagram content so that everything gets finished on time. To be honest, I haven’t watched any of the YouTube videos yet, but I’ll catch up after the expedition. I think the two of them are looking forward to the "after" just as much as I am. 

I already find the expedition mentally exhausting, but I don’t have to think about paying employees, producing content, writing press releases, etc., and I’m honestly glad about that. Here in EBC, I can pretty much live day by day. I wouldn’t even have to write this blog if I didn’t want to – I could just read, sleep, hydrate, and wait until I get to climb. I think I’ve only posted on Instagram three times in the last four weeks, and only because everyone around me was posting, and I could mostly copy their content. Even after Manaslu, I didn’t really feel like posting anything on social media – somehow it just doesn’t feel that important to me. 

Anyway, the conversation with those two really did me good, and finally, I started to feel some excitement about my Puja. 

I can’t really remember what we had for dinner – probably Veggie Sizzler, since we’ve had that three times already. After that, I went straight to bed to be ready for the Puja today. 

The Puja took place shortly after breakfast. I was one of the first ones there and managed to get a great seat – even with a rock for back support, just in case. But first, I had to get my gear and place it at the shrine. Two days ago, Furtenbach said that we should bring anything that would touch the mountain. I always bring everything that gives me a sense of safety on the mountain: boots, crampons, harness, and helmet. Since I was one of the first again, my gear was placed right by the shrine – I take that as a good omen. Then I sat down and read a little until everyone else was ready. 

For the Pujas, a Lama always comes with an assistant. The Lama chants (or rather, sings) prayers, while the assistant occasionally beats a small drum, and the Lama also clashes cymbal-like instruments. The purpose of the Puja is to ask for a "safe passage" – meaning a safe ascent and descent. Prayers are chanted for all the mountains surrounding Everest, as well as for Everest itself. Rice and/or rice powder is thrown into the air during the ceremony. 

We listeners were given some black tea from time to time to stay hydrated, and I was grateful to be wearing both a hat and a buff – it was quite windy and sunny. 

At the end of the Puja, everyone received a yellow string bracelet and a khata scarf around their neck. The yellow string should not be removed, as it offers protection. The khata also symbolizes protection but can be taken off later. I've hung all the khatas I’ve received so far in my tent and will take them home, like everyone else. Anyone who’s visited my place in the last three years will probably remember the white scarves hanging everywhere. 

Since I once again want to hang prayer flags on the summit, I had bought a few in Kathmandu that now needed to be blessed. Pengboche would have been a good time for that, but I had packed the prayer flags in my climbing duffle, which went missing for a while during the trek. So now, Chirring asked the Lama if he could bless the flags – which he did without hesitation. 

We also took a few group photos so we could remember this day. Afterward, I went into the dining tent, as it was quite windy outside. After the meal, Chirring, Gyalzen, and I were going to sit down together and work out a new schedule – so I’d have a better sense of what’s planned and wouldn’t get too caught up in negative thoughts just because everyone else is heading out on their rotations before me, even though I was the first one in base camp. 

The Sherpas’ suggestion was to do a dry run in the Icefall tomorrow. This means going up about halfway and then coming back down. In Chirring's words, it was: 3 hours up, 1 hour down. My suggestion was to start the rotation so that we would be ready for the summit after 5 days on the mountain, once the fixing team had finished their work. 

I didn’t really like the Sherpa suggestion, because, firstly, I didn’t want to spend too many unnecessary hours in the Icefall, and secondly, I finally wanted to start my rotation. I also feared that if I waited any longer, I would be in the Icefall with too many other people, which would bring long waiting times, cold, and risks. I also asked Phunuru what he thought of the plan. Unfortunately, he had no internet and couldn’t give me an answer. It was also hard to get a somewhat reliable weather report because the Wi-Fi was, once again, very slow. It’s one of those moments where you have to make a decision, and only later (maybe) will you find out if you made the right or wrong choice. 

I have two guiding principles that I want to stick to here on Everest: I want to attempt the summit during the first weather window, and I want to make sure that all three of us have at least 3 rest days before that. I want to use the first weather window because, based on experience, there aren’t as many people on the mountain yet since they’re not ready. The three rest days for all of us should be clear to everyone – we need to be well-rested when we make our double attempt, including Chirring and Gyalzen, since they play such a big role in our safety on the mountain. 

Our discussion after dinner wasn’t too long, because the two of them didn’t want to be swayed from their plan, and I wasn’t born to be the boss, so I didn’t want to force my suggestion on them. I was still torn between “spend as little time as possible in the Icefall” and “just trust the Sherpas,” but I didn’t want to make the decision alone. So, we agreed that we would all think about the options some more, I would try to get a weather report, and we would discuss it again at dinner. 

Afterwards, I went once again to the coffee tent, where I met the usual suspects. I also had a brief chat with Paul, who has a lot of Everest experience. He said that he also did a dry run back in the day and actually found it quite useful. Still, the general consensus was that everyone would rather start the rotation than do a dry run. To me, the reason for the dry run wasn’t clear, not even after the meeting with Chirring and Gyalzen in the afternoon. It felt unnecessary, and because I didn’t understand it, the plan bothered me even more after the conversations. 

Once again, Stan helped me avoid getting stuck in negative thoughts. He was able to explain to me rationally that it’s not a big deal if I don’t start the rotation like everyone else. There is still plenty of time, and he’s confident that, no matter which option we choose, I will still have a real shot at the summit. I also got distracted from my thoughts when we had an interesting conversation with Kristin about her numerous expeditions. She is waiting for her helicopter permit in China to finally find the Sherpa who was swept away by an avalanche on Shishapangma on my birthday in 2023. 

For those who don’t know Kristin Harila: She broke the speed record for climbing all 14 8000-meter peaks. It only took her 92 days to achieve this. In 2022, she made her first attempt and stood on 13 out of 14 peaks. Unfortunately, she was denied permission by China to climb Shishapangma, so her attempt failed, and Nimsdai remained the record holder. Nimsdai is the Nepali climber behind the amazing Netflix film (and book) 14 Peaks. She told us yesterday that the moment she got the “no” from China, she knew she would make another attempt in 2023. That year, she shuffled the order of her climbs and actually got permission from China for Shishapangma and Cho Oyu in the spring. Both peaks are climbed from China, although Cho Oyu can theoretically also be climbed from Nepal, which is extremely difficult (Gelje from AGA Adventures managed to achieve this last year after the route had been abandoned for a long time – just google it). 

Back to Kristin: Once she had the permits, she climbed all 14 peaks in those 92 days, always with her Sherpa Lama by her side. They were celebrated worldwide for this, and now it was clear to everyone that Lama is the best Sherpa around. While Kristin was chasing the record, two American women were in a race to become the first American women to climb all 14 8000-meter peaks. Their names were Anna and Gina-Marie, and both had already summited 13 peaks, only missing Shishapangma. They both received permits, and Gina-Marie wanted the best Sherpa by her side. So, Lama, even though he didn’t have to, went to China once more to help her succeed. 

Shishapangma is already a dangerous mountain in the spring, but in the autumn, it’s even more dangerous due to its steep slopes, which are perfect for avalanches. On my 39th birthday, the mountain had had enough and buried both Gina-Marie’s team and Anna Gutu’s team with her Sherpa. All four died, though Anna and her Sherpa were found and brought home last year. Gina-Marie and Lama are still somewhere on the mountain, and Kristin has made it her goal to bring his body back. I think she will only find peace with her life once she has accomplished this. She takes great care of Lama’s family, especially his two sons; she was trekking with the younger one, who is now back in Kathmandu in school. 

These coffee tent conversations are the heart of this expedition and, for me, and I think for many others as well, they are very important. The great community comes together here, and everyone is in the same boat. Everyone I have spoken to so far is extremely open. It doesn’t matter whether you’ve climbed one 8000-meter peak or already 27. It doesn’t matter whether you’re here "just" for the trek or for the triple crown (Everest, Lhotse, Nuptse). You sit together at the table, listen to each other, and the depth of the conversations comes very quickly. I’ve mentioned before that it was very important for me to thank Kristin for her extraordinary achievement. I feel deeply sorry that such a negative impact has affected her life. Positive and negative are so closely intertwined, and I’m certainly not the only one hoping that Kristin will soon get the permit and find Lama’s body this spring. 

As I walked back to my dining tent in thought, a nice dinner was waiting for me, which helped me feel a bit more positive. I wasn’t able to find a weather report, but I did manage to get a wind report from our camp doctor. After dinner, Chirring and Gyalzen returned, and together we discussed the wind report in front of our tent. After a few minutes, a Sherpa came around the corner with a radio and told them something. Apparently, an avalanche from Nuptse had hit the route between Camp 1 and Camp 2, causing the route to be temporarily interrupted. This was a reason for my Sherpas to stick with the dry run. I accepted this decision, and we agreed that we would leave at 6 am. They also informed me about what I would need to pack, mainly warm clothing, as it would be very windy tomorrow, and we didn’t know how many people we would encounter in the Icefall. 

I immediately went to the tent to pack my things and then lay down in bed, planning to have breakfast at 5 am so that I wouldn’t end up in the same situation as during the training, when the food couldn’t decide whether to come up or down. Just before going to sleep, I wanted to quickly check my messages and Instagram. There, I saw that, apparently, a part of the route in the Icefall had collapsed in the past few hours. All those who had planned to start their rotation at night canceled their plans and stayed in the EBC. I lay in bed and had to admit to myself that I should really trust Chirring and Gyalzen’s suggestions 100%. Because their suggestion for the dry run now seemed perfect, since we wouldn’t have been able to go any further anyway. I took this as a sign from Everest, showing me that I have very capable Sherpas and that I should trust myself as well. I’ve already verbally told many people that since my first visit to the Khumbu Valley in 2017, I’ve felt a connection to my dream mountain. Once again, I felt that connection right now, lying in my sleeping bag in the EBC, and I made a resolution to trust Everest, that it would give me my chance. 

 Saturday, April 26 – Dry Run in the Icefall

 It felt strange to be woken up by an alarm again today. For the past 2–3 weeks, I had always woken up early enough on my own since I was also going to bed early. But now the clock said 4:30 a.m. I stayed in my warm sleeping bag for another 10 minutes until I felt mentally ready to crawl out. I had already put my clothes into the sleeping bag the night before, so I could get dressed inside the bag. Then I checked once more that everything I needed was in my backpack: I packed my down pants, my thick down jacket, thick gloves, and hand warmers—after all, I didn’t want to have to turn back because of cold fingers. My thermos bottles also went into the backpack, along with sunscreen, etc. 

At 5 a.m., I headed to the kitchen tent. Dipen had told me yesterday to just stop by the kitchen tent, and someone would make me black tea. I had planned to eat just cornflakes so they wouldn’t have to cook too much so early in the morning. Unfortunately, the kitchen tent was still closed and deserted at 5 a.m. So I sat in the cold dining tent and ate my cornflakes. Without tea, it was a pretty dry experience, but there wasn’t much I could do about it. At 5:10, I heard the stove light up in the kitchen tent and realized I’d just been overly Swiss about being on time at exactly 5 a.m. 

So I went down and was warmly greeted by Nathi. He made me two cups of tea and would’ve even cooked something for me if I had let him. After that, I went to my tent to put on my big boots. It only takes about five minutes down here, but I always have to focus to make sure there are no folds in my socks or thermals—otherwise, I risk blisters. I also tried taping my usual problem spot on my lower leg. Note to self: tape doesn’t stick to human skin in subzero temperatures. Once I was ready, I made one more stop at the pee tent—because let’s be honest, you don’t want to die in the Icefall with your pants down just because you couldn’t outrun a chunk of ice 😉. 

Lastly, I put on my climbing harness so I wouldn’t have to do it in the cold of the Icefall. Chirring and Gyalzen were ready as well, and after another hot cup of tea, we first headed to our Puja shrine, circled it once clockwise, and then took a fairly direct route down to the glacier. It took us about 30 minutes to reach the Crampon Point, which was different from the one we visited about two weeks ago. The first part of the route mostly leads over flat glacier ice and rocks, so it’s easy to walk the first 30 minutes without crampons. 

Then came the final bathroom break before putting on crampons and getting into the real thing. Interestingly, we still had another 30 minutes of mostly rock, although it was steeper and sometimes covered in meltwater. Surprisingly, the crampons actually gave great traction. Just before the first vertical section, we encountered the only people coming in the opposite direction—a Westerner and his Sherpa. That was also the Crampon Point for the Icefall Doctors. We figured this out when six of them showed up, getting ready to enter the Icefall to repair the collapsed section. 

We, meanwhile, headed to the base of the first vertical section to use our ascenders for the first time. I tried to stick to the rhythm that worked for me on Manaslu: step, breathe in and out deeply twice, step, breathe deeply twice, and so on. It takes longer to get to the top that way, but I never get out of breath and can focus on technique. Chirring was ahead of me, Gyalzen behind. The Sherpa version of this section is a little different: wait for a gap, then take 5–6 fast steps, wait again, repeat. It feels more like intervals, which is why I don’t do it that way. I also think it’s nicer for anyone waiting below to see steady progress rather than someone standing still for five minutes catching their breath. 

Now we were really in the Icefall—ascending, descending, clipping in and out—and I tried to focus on the route. Chirring would wait for me at each anchor to hold the rope I needed to clip into next. On ascents, I felt like I got out of breath quickly, but after a 10-second pause, I always recovered fast. We had to jump over a small crevasse and passed a spot that made me nervous—narrow icy steps that looked like they wouldn’t hold my weight. But since Chirring, who’s a bit heavier, went ahead, I tried to trust the steps. I’m pretty sure they’ll be gone next time—they were that thin. 

After an unknown amount of time—somewhere between 30 minutes and 15 hours—we reached an open area that looked like an avalanche cone. Above the Icefall on the right is a glacier section that regularly breaks off, and the route passes through its debris. Luckily, it’s fairly flat there, so we passed through in under a minute. Still, I asked which direction to run in case something came down at the wrong time. Despite the visible dangers, I felt totally comfortable and didn’t perceive the Icefall as threatening. The path was wide, I saw plenty of passing spots, and there were no threatening seracs in sight. So we continued. 

We crossed three ladders, all (in my opinion) used correctly: in vertical sections, usually to enter steep ice walls followed by another 10-meter climb. All of these had small steps to clearly place your feet and 2–3 ropes for rappelling even if someone was climbing up. One ladder section looked like a potential bottleneck, though, as the rappel ropes met the ascent path. Curious to see if I’ll get stuck there someday. At least there's a decently safe waiting area, though probably very cold. 

About two hours in, Chirring and Gyalzen suddenly seemed a bit nervous. I asked if this was a spot where we should move faster—they nodded. So I “ran” behind Chirring. "Ran" is an exaggeration—I just walked at my normal pace from home. Anything faster isn’t possible at this altitude anyway. After a few minutes, I needed a break, which thankfully I was given. We ducked under and between seracs, went up and down again, then climbed onto a cornice. Now we were really in the heart of the Icefall—and I was still enjoying it. 

Shortly after, the route split into two: the old and the new path. We followed the new one, but a large, stable-looking ice chunk dropped a meter when Chirring stepped on it. That made my brain go into overdrive—it really looked solid. Chirring hesitated, clearly trusting the old route more. So he crossed about five meters of ice blocks, secured only to his climbing harness. I was relieved when we could clip into the rope again. We took our first real break there—before that, we only had a couple of short water or breathing pauses. 

Chirring said we’d go another 10–15 minutes and then turn back. Exactly 10 minutes later, we reached the point where part of the route had collapsed during the night. We stood at the end of the fixed rope and saw an Icefall Doctor about 100 meters ahead. It looked like they were trying to repair the route from above. For us, it meant turning back after exactly 2 hours and 26 minutes. My watch showed 5,694 meters—roughly 400 meters above base camp. According to Gyalzen, we were halfway to Camp 1. Based on the altitude reading, that seems about right. Distance-wise, I’m not so sure. But since I didn’t feel tired, I’m confident I could make it to Camp 1 at that pace—whenever the time comes. 

As we turned back on the narrow ridge, I noticed a huge hole on the right—the collapsed route. But the left side didn’t have much snow either. I realized we were standing on a not-very-stable, undercut cornice. That made me pick up the pace for at least the first five minutes. Going mostly downhill now, we moved much faster. Gyalzen was now ahead, Chirring behind. Unfortunately, Gyalzen was 1% less gentlemanly than Chirring, so I often had to bend down to grab and clip the rope myself. 

We retraced our route toward Crampon Point. On the vertical sections we ascended with ascenders earlier, we now rappelled down. So we were back at the Crampon Point after only 50 minutes, took off crampons and harnesses, and hiked the last stretch over rock—which is tricky in crampons. I had to stay super focused, as getting injured now would just be dumb. I was relieved to remove the crampons and walk the rest without them. Still downhill and requiring attention, but easier. I was back in my tent shortly after 10 a.m., where I changed into my base camp clothes. It had warmed up quite a bit on the way back, and I try to avoid sweating if I can. 

I stayed in the tent a bit, prepped a laundry bag, put everything back in its place, set my boots outside to dry in the sun, and messaged Raphael to let him know I was back. I think he was the only one who knew about my dry run—so no one else had any Once I connected to the Wi-Fi, I finally received a response from Phunuru to the question I had asked him yesterday. So I decided to give him a call. The connection was perfect, which allowed us to talk for almost half an hour about the best plan for the next three weeks. The goal now, assuming a good weather forecast, is to start our rotation on Monday, April 28, and spend five nights in the Western Cwm. That way, we should have at least three rest days before we go on our summit rotation. It would also give Chirring and Gyalzen enough time to bring the oxygen bottles to the right locations and get enough rest afterward. 

During the call, I munched on a few things from my still massive snack stash and then headed to the dining tent for lunch. I was lucky—it was Italian pasta, and under the incredulous eyes of the kitchen crew, I asked for seconds. After all, I had only had a single bowl of cornflakes for breakfast, and recovery works best with carbs. 

Although I was a bit tired from getting up so early, I didn’t want to nap. So I finished reading my book and then, once again, made my way to the coffee tent. I think by now this routine is no surprise to anyone 😊 

In the coffee tent, I chatted a bit with Bianca and Mitch, and just as I was about to leave, Gabi came in. I took another half hour to catch up with her—to hear how her research was going and what she’d been up to the last few days. I hadn’t seen her since Wednesday or so. Since she was the first person I met here at EBC, I’m always especially happy when we get to see each other again. reason 

 Sunday, April 27 – EBC

 Today was another rest day, which means no alarm clock. As usual, I lay awake in my sleeping bag for half an hour to 45 minutes before changing clothes inside it and finally peeling myself out. Breakfast is always at the same time, 8 a.m., but not everyone manages to be on time every day. About two weeks ago, I started ordering a thermos of black tea, which now reliably shows up five minutes after I arrive at the table. That way, I can ensure I drink enough, since the thermos holds three liters of black tea. I usually manage to finish it by the time lunch is over, and then I don’t drink quite as much in the afternoon. Especially in the evening, I try to limit myself to two cups with dinner so that I don’t have to get up at night to pee. So far, that’s been working well—I’ve only had to get up twice at night, and I’ve been on the road for almost a month now. 

After breakfast, I headed to the kitchen tent again to ask for hot water to wash up. I’ve made it a habit to do a bit of laundry on sunny rest days. Not because it’s absolutely necessary, but because it gives me the feeling that I’m doing at least something useful while just sitting around. This time it was my pajama thermals’ turn—a thin pair of long merino underwear and a thin merino sweater, which I’ve worn every night since the first day of the trek. I also washed a set of underwear and a buff. People still smile at me when they see me washing in front of the kitchen tent, but since it’s more about the act than actual cleanliness, I still don’t try too hard while washing 😉. Then I packed my few things and hung them in the sun by my tent. Last time, Nathi gave me some clothespins, which I of course used again today—even though it was quite windless. 

Afterward, I turned to my laptop since I finally wanted to update the blog. Unfortunately, the battery only lasted about 1.5 hours, so I spent the rest of the time until lunch playing games on my phone. Even after lunch, that remained my main activity since I finished my seventh book yesterday and felt I needed a short reading break. I’m assuming I’ll have enough reading time during the upcoming rotation. I definitely haven’t regretted buying the Tolino two years ago—not for a second on these expeditions. 

As the afternoon went on, more and more clouds rolled in, and I even heard some distant thunder. It looks like the bad weather that was forecast is on its way. I already saw the first snowflakes falling outside, which I took as a sign to check on my laundry. Surprisingly, it was almost dry. Only the top was still a little damp, so I hung it in the tent roof, where the sun had warmed things up nicely. The rest I packed back into the designated bags, which serve as my improvised wardrobe. There’s one bag for tops, one for thick thermals, one for underwear, one for socks, and one for used socks. Then there’s an entertainment bag and three full snack bags, and by now I’m starting to wonder when I’m actually going to eat all that. Back home, it seemed like far too little. But here, the tables in the dining tent are full of food—you could practically eat 24/7 and there’d still be plenty left for others. 

Back in the dining tent, I decided there was still enough time to do one of the puzzles I brought. So I cleared a corner of the table and started on a unicorn puzzle with lots of dark colors and sparkles. I got it last summer from Raphael’s sister Daniela, and while the image isn’t exactly my favorite, I had the time so I left the timer off for once and fought my way through the pieces on the uneven tablecloth. During the 1.5 hours of puzzling, I also chatted a bit with Dipen about his goals and future. He’s doing an excellent job here, and at 26 years old, he still has many dreams he wants to chase. He came to base camp a few weeks ago with his father, uncle, and a friend of his father. The other three work for the same company but in a different kitchen tent (the Chinese kitchen). 

Two weeks ago, however, the father’s friend had a heart attack and was flown by helicopter to Kathmandu. Sadly, he didn’t survive, so the three others also flew to Kathmandu to attend the funeral. We didn’t hear anything about this while we were just sitting out our rest days. Dipen seems happy to have some family nearby, but he’s also looking forward to returning to Kathmandu and focusing on his future. He wants to travel the world and start by getting his trekking guide certification, which involves 26 days of theory in Kathmandu and another two weeks of fieldwork. His English is very good—much better than most of the kitchen crew’s—and I’m convinced he won’t be working in a kitchen for many more seasons. I really hope he achieves his goals soon. He’s a daily highlight, and I’m grateful I get to enjoy the fruits of his labor here. 

After finishing the puzzle, I headed over to the coffee tent for a hot chocolate. Unfortunately, there was no one I knew there this time, so I didn’t stay long. It was also quite full again, which increases the risk of catching something—more so than when the tent is empty. On the way back to the dining tent, I made a detour to my tent to start getting ready for the night once again: putting on thermals, packing toothbrush, toothpaste, and headlamp, emptying water bottles if needed, and bringing them along. 

In the dining tent, I had a good connection and was able to call Raphael for a bit, since the school holidays ended today and I wanted to know how things were going at home with the five little ones. I also finally managed to charge my laptop, since electricity only becomes available after 6 p.m., when the generators are turned on. For dinner, I had rice and vegetables, which I dutifully finished (empty plate no. 21?!). 

After that, I brushed my teeth, packed my seven things—including the bottles filled with hot water—and headed back to my tent. Since the Wi-Fi was still working great, I was able to call and wish my sister a happy birthday and chat with Seraina a bit too. But by 9 p.m., it was lights out—I didn’t want to be late for breakfast again. My final ritual before sleeping: put in my earplugs, slip on the eye mask, take off my down jacket and the layer underneath, and snuggle into the sleeping bag. 

Monday, April 28 – EBC

 According to the plan, today should be my last rest day before the rotation. I’m curious to see if everything will go according to plan. During the night, we got 10 cm of fresh snow, but it stayed fairly calm with little wind. I woke up right on time and heard the snow sliding off the tent roofs at irregular intervals. It took a few of these mini roof avalanches before I realized they weren’t real avalanches. As usual, I woke up too early and took advantage of the Wi-Fi. 

After that, I followed my evening routine—just in reverse: take off the thermals in the sleeping bag and put on my pants, then put on the sweater and down jacket, slip out of the sleeping bag, brush my hair, put on my hat and sunglasses, and head outside. On the way to the dining tent, I pass the pee tent, which of course I don't skip, and soon I’m sitting in the dining tent. That’s where I still am now—laptop plugged in, ready to send the blog to my sister. I also used the time to transfer the photos from my phone to the laptop, so at least the first batch is safely backed up. 

I assume Chirring and Gyalzen will show up sometime in the afternoon so we can pack everything we need for the rotation together. In the meantime, I’ve already prepared a small pharmacy bag and thought about what clothes I’ll need. 

Monday, April 28 – EBC - Part II

 I’m now back from my rotation and I don’t want to miss the opportunity to take you along with me for those three intense days. But first, let me tell you about the afternoon of last Monday. 

As expected, around 3 p.m., Chirring and Gyalzen showed up at my tent so we could go through what would be coming up the mountain with us and what wouldn’t. I had already done a pre-selection to keep things from taking too long. My previous expeditions definitely came in handy here, as I already knew about 99% of what I needed to pack. I was unsure about the extra clothing, since it gets even colder in the higher camps. Up there, you’re even less motivated to change clothes than you are here at EBC. Still, it can get very hot in the Western Cwm, and in that case you at least want to be able to take off sweaty clothes to let them dry. I also packed a big bag full of potential snacks, in case I didn’t like the food in the camps. I already don’t eat much at home, let alone on the mountain. But if you’re sitting in a tent all day because it’s too cold to go outside, a few snacks can be a welcome distraction from the boredom. 

The essentials included things like my air mattress, sleeping bag, and down suit—plus, for me, several pairs of socks, depending on whether we’d be in cold or hot weather while wearing the triple boots. I also packed my e-book reader, the Theos, and SPF 100 sunscreen. Once we had agreed on everything, Chirring and Gyalzen packed up what was already ready and put it in their backpacks. I went to the coffee tent one last time for a hot chocolate, but unfortunately didn’t run into anyone I knew. It seemed like everyone was already up on the mountain. The hot chocolate was still delicious, and the calm before the storm did me some good. I don’t remember what we had for dinner, but in any case, I tried—as always—to eat at least half of it. After that, I stayed in the dining tent until my phone was fully charged, and then I went to bed. Wake-up was at 1 a.m. for me—we wanted to head out at 2 a.m. the next day, and before that I needed to eat something to keep everyone happy. 

 Tuesday, April 29 – EBC to Camp 1 

I didn’t have much trouble falling asleep after dinner. Everything was ready, and I was so ready to finally move up to the higher camps. So, after the alarm went off, I got dressed, turned on my headlamp, and went to the dining tent, where, according to the plan, 3 liters of tea would be waiting for me. 

When I opened the zipper, I couldn’t quite believe what I was seeing: contrary to all the weather forecasts I had checked, there was 7 cm of fresh snow outside the tent. It was also windier than I had expected. My mind couldn’t quite process it, and as I peed, I wondered whether the snow would be a problem. The attempt to spot other headlamps in the Icefall was unsuccessful. 

In the dining tent, the promised thermoses were there, so I treated myself to a cup of black tea with cornflakes. I didn’t feel like having more at the moment. When a kitchen Sherpa came in, he asked me if I was going up today. As if I’d just casually be sitting in the dining tent at 1:20 a.m. eating cornflakes for fun. He said his brother was also going up today and that it would be dangerous. I only half-listened because I had good Wi-Fi and wanted to update my WhatsApp status. I forgot it was still evening back home, so I quickly answered a few messages. Chirring and Gyalzen soon appeared as well and also had some tea. 

I went back to the tent to put on my boots and grab my packed backpack. Lastly, I filled my two water bottles with hot water and added a bit of flavor. At 2:20 a.m., we were ready to set off—which here means first circling the Puja shrine once more to ask for a safe passage. 

In the snowfall, we made our way toward the glacier and from there to the Crampon Point. This time it took five minutes longer—we had a long way ahead of us and didn’t need to rush. In the distant Icefall, I could at least now see a few headlamps, which reassured me that we weren’t the only ones out despite the fresh snow and ongoing snowfall. 

At Crampon Point, we had one last pee break, and just as we were putting on our crampons, five Sherpas appeared from the Icefall. They were on their way back to Base Camp, and I didn’t find out what their five-minute discussion with Chirring and Gyalzen was about. Honestly, I didn’t want to ask too much—like whether it was a dumb idea to be heading up now. I simply thought: they’ve just come down through the entire Icefall, and going down in snow is usually harder than going up. So it should be fine for us to climb today. 

And so we began our way along the now familiar route. The ropes were clearly visible, and the sections where we’d had to walk on bare rock last time were now much easier to traverse on snow. I kept glancing back to see if anyone was following us, but I never saw any other headlamps. 

Chirring led us stoically from anchor to anchor, while swirling snow still whipped around our faces. I wasn’t sure if my chin was frozen—I kept having to pull down my buff for a few seconds to breathe properly, and it was damp from my breath. For a while, I fixated on the question: can a chin actually freeze? I couldn’t really come up with an answer. 

The beam of my headlamp, though, stayed focused on the path, which remained clearly visible the whole time. At first, we passed 2–3 Sherpas coming down, who didn’t say much and descended purposefully. 

After just under 3 hours, we reached the spot where we had turned back last time. Now, a new rope clearly pointed into the unknown. I told Chirring and Gyalzen that we could turn back if it seemed too dangerous. After all, I still didn’t see a single other headlamp either above or below us—we were completely alone in an Icefall that, in theory, should have been teeming with people. The two just gave a brief “no” and asked if my fingers were still warm enough. 

Every half hour, we took a short break to drink, or if I needed to change my gloves, we’d stop briefly as well. But since it was windy—and quickly got cold—we tried to keep moving as steadily as possible. I tackled the uphill sections slowly but steadily. On flat stretches or descents, I moved at a reasonably normal pace. 

I noticed the towering seracs beside me but didn’t give them too much attention. They’re there whether you like it or not, and you can’t really tell by looking at them whether they’re dangerous or not. In any case, they were beautiful. Every time I wanted to take a photo, I asked the two guys if it was okay, and most of the time they nodded—they knew it would only take a moment before I was ready to continue. 

The route mostly led uphill, sometimes down again, across snow bridges and crevasses. Occasionally, there was a ladder, but often the only option was to jump over the crevasse. Still, I never felt total panic. The big jumps did take courage, but the higher I climbed, the less I was willing to let a glacier crevasse dictate when I should stop. One huge jump I only dared to make after Chirring counted me down—and even then, only because he said I’d probably slide forward on my stomach (which, thankfully, didn’t happen). 

The long ladder I had seen on social media, stretching horizontally across a crevasse, was gone—it was now leaned steeply against a wall, so you could simply climb it like at home. That’s much easier for me than the horizontal ones where you also have to look down—right into the crevasse—to figure out where to place your boots. 

There were also spots where you stood on a ridge, saw the ropes to the left that you were supposed to climb, but the fixed ropes led off to the right. These little detours that add more vertical meters are always a mental challenge. Still, the longer you’re on the move, the more you notice how you’re climbing higher and higher through the Icefall. 

From Base Camp, the route looks like a giant question mark. You start off to the right, then curve left around a rock formation, and ascend again on the right side. From there, it zigzags toward the left, and you exit the actual Icefall roughly in the upper third. At that point, all that stands between you and Camp 1 are countless glacier crevasses—some to be jumped over, others crossed like sand dunes: up and down, up and down. 

I only realized this when I was standing on one of these “sand dunes” and spotted a lone tent behind a ridge. I thought, “That must be Camp 1,” and sure enough, ten minutes later we arrived at the tent. The camp itself was visible just ahead, seemingly only five minutes away. But in between were six steep dunes—each one only becoming visible once you’d climbed the previous (and supposedly final) one. 

It took a full 35 minutes before we finally stood in the camp. I know the Icefall dictates the route, but honestly, no one needs six of these “little bastard hills” after already spending six hours in the Icefall. 

Well then, we reached Camp 1 after 6.5 hours, and the first thing I did was head into the small dining tent, where hot tea was being served. I drank a cup and chatted with my friends whom I had been missing back at Base Camp. By the way, the tent was very similar to Camp 1 at Manaslu: in the middle, a table had been carved out of snow and ice, and around it, a seating platform also made of snow and ice. 

The others had all come up the day before, and aside from Bianca and Paul, everyone was getting ready to move on, since they were heading to Camp 2 that day. Bianca had had to empty her stomach shortly before starting out yesterday, and apparently Paul caught the bug either on the way through the Icefall or once in Camp 1. He slowed down more and more throughout the Icefall, and in the end it took them almost 10 hours to reach Camp 1. He spent most of his time lying in the tent. Bianca, on the other hand, was a bit bored, since Camp 1 is really used mainly as a stopover, and no one stays there longer than one night unless forced to by health issues. 

We used the time to keep each other entertained and watched the others pack their gear and slowly head off toward Camp 2. From the dining tent, you could see the first part of the route quite well, and it looked relatively flat and pleasant. Also, it’s only a 400-meter climb to Camp 2, crossing directly through the Western Cwm. 

After a while, I went looking for my backpack and asked Gyalzen. He and Chirring had meanwhile shoveled out a large platform with other Sherpas and pitched tents on it. They had already prepared one of those tents for me—meaning they had inflated my air mattress, laid out my sleeping bag, and placed my clothes bag and down suit ready for use. My backpack was already inside the tent too, so all I had to do was flop down inside. I hadn’t expected that kind of service and am really grateful to both of them for this “princess service.” 

So I lay down in my tent, changed clothes, and before long it got quite hot inside. The sun was shining, and the platform had been strategically placed in a relatively wind-sheltered spot. So there I was, barefoot and just wearing thermals and a T-shirt in my tent, trying to eat snacks regularly and empty my water bottles. Meanwhile, Chirring and Gyalzen started digging a new toilet that would be a bit better hidden than the one we’d had so far. 

From the dining tent, you had a clear view of everything—nothing could be hidden, no matter how hard you tried. You did have to accept a bit of an elevation gain to get to the new toilet, but the risk of being seen—or having your bare backside spotted—was a hundred times lower. 

In the afternoon, I also practiced my summit puzzle a few times while wearing gloves, only to find out how difficult it actually is. And I wasn’t even using the thick gloves, just my very thin ones. We’ll see if this whole puzzling-on-the-summit-of-Everest idea works out. At the moment, it doesn’t seem all that feasible to me. 

For dinner, I was served a large portion of plain white rice, and I tried to eat as much of it as I could with the help of Aromat seasoning. The problem is that by the time the rice reaches me, it’s usually already quite cold, mushy, and flavorless. The Aromat helps only a little to make it somewhat edible. Luckily, I’d already eaten enough nuts, so—even though I felt a bit guilty—I could leave half of it uneaten without worry. 

Once the sun disappeared behind the mountains, it got very cold very quickly, and I put on every piece of useful clothing I had. I only left the tent to pee, and during those moments I enjoyed the view of the Western Cwm and the surrounding mountains for a few minutes. I read until it got dark and then tried to sleep. Unfortunately, I had only put on thin socks for sleeping, so I got pretty cold during the night. I woke up often, and every time I changed positions, my sleeping bag would slip off the air mattress. It took quite a bit of effort each time to find a decent and somewhat warm sleeping position again. Plus, the night feels endlessly long when you’ve already been lying in your sleeping bag since 5 p.m. 😉 

Wednesday, April 30th – Camp 1 to Camp 2 

I didn’t exactly wake up exhausted on Wednesday, but I certainly didn’t feel as great as I usually do in Basecamp. The hot Nalgene bottles had already cooled down to body temperature, and no matter how I turned, the sleeping bag was cold somewhere. I distracted myself by fiddling around on my phone. Unfortunately, my bladder also forced me out of the tent, and since we wanted to leave fairly early anyway, I didn’t torture myself too much. I slipped into my clothes inside the sleeping bag and got up. Since I still had to pack everything inside the tent, I just slipped into the outer shoes of my boots and went to pee. It gets light here very early, even though the sun hides behind the mountains, which helps you wake up early. After peeing, I packed everything that belonged in my backpack, put the sleeping bag into its stuff sack, and folded the air mattress so it would fit into its sack. Everything that Chirring and Gyalzen had already carried to Camp 1, I laid out in the tent, and the rest was already packed in my backpack. Finally, I put on my boots, this time with the inner shoes already snugly laced up for the way to Camp 2. Afterward, I took my backpack outside and went to the dining tent. Bianca and Paul were already sitting there, and they would also be heading to Camp 2 today. I got a bowl of a few cornflakes and drank half a liter of black tea. Chirring and Gyalzen still had to eat breakfast and pack their backpacks, so I didn’t need to rush. Bianca and Paul, meanwhile, had already finished their breakfast and were in the process of putting on their climbing harnesses and crampons. Everything here takes a little more time, and since you know that, you’re usually already putting on these important tools before the planned departure time. The goal for Bianca’s group and for us was to cover as much of the route as possible before the sun would shine into the Cwm. It’s known that the Cwm turns into an oven within minutes, and you get roasted like a chicken while making your way to Camp 2. In such situations, I feel drained and lose all my energy, another reason for me to wear fewer warm clothes today, so I wouldn’t sweat too much. As a result, I froze a little while sitting on the snow in the dining tent, shoveling my few spoonfuls of cornflakes into me. 

Bianca and Paul left the camp about half to three-quarters of an hour before me, and while I was waiting, I just continued drinking black tea. The more I drank now, the better I would handle the altitude change. When my guys were ready, we could finally get going, and a glance at the clock told me it was only 8 a.m. The path gradually climbs to the right, passing Camp 1 and heading toward the end of the valley. Often, there is no rope to guide you, especially if there’s too much snow. However, flags from the fixing team guide the way through the Cwm. It first winds along the right side of the mountain and then slowly changes sides, because Camp 2 is located on the left side of the mountain, or more precisely, directly below the summit of Everest on the left side. Although you’re walking on the glacier the whole way, you encounter very few crevasses. You simply cross 2-3 smaller ones, and the 2-3 large ones are secured with fixed ropes and cross wider snow bridges. After about 50 minutes, we suddenly find ourselves in front of a 10-meter vertical wall. I’ve seen such scenes in various videos, but it was still a bit unexpected. The passage over this serac was secured with various ropes, so you didn’t have to wait too long. The Sherpas with large, heavy backpacks attached them to the ropes and scrambled up without their backpacks, while other Sherpas helped to pull the load up from above. I noticed Paul in the upper third of the vertical section, while Bianca was just getting ready to move upwards. I thought it would make a great video and wanted to take out my phone, which I had just used for a photo. But Bianca was so fast that I didn’t even have a second to film. I have no idea how out of breath she was at the top because moving quickly at this altitude is almost impossible for regular people like us, and she was really, really fast at getting to the top. I took a little more time for myself. When I face vertical sections, I always try to clip in quickly and then climb at a steady pace. In the middle, I usually take a short break to catch my breath, and then continue for the second half. I always try to ignore the fact that people may be waiting for me down below, because rushing really doesn’t help. It would just make me more out of breath and I would need an even longer break on the wall. When I finally reach the top, I’m so out of breath that I’m always relieved when Chirring takes the Jumar off me. 

I had always clipped the safety line myself until now, even though it seemed almost impossible to do so in those few seconds. Above the vertical section, there was a large area where everyone could stop to catch their breath. I was glad when Gyalzen said we would take a short break here. It also seemed that the area at Crampon Point was designated for the Sherpas. Above that area, I saw almost no more porters with crampons, and everywhere on the plateau, there were piles of climbing harnesses and crampons scattered around. After our break, we continued along the route, and shortly afterward, we overtook Bianca and Paul, who was still not fully recovered. He needed quite a few breaks, and his pace was very slow. We were also incredibly lucky with the weather. By now, more than an hour had passed, and the Western Cwm was overcast, so the sun couldn’t roast us. It was the perfect temperature to walk without a down jacket, but not too hot to start sweating. Still, the clouds were high enough that we could enjoy a little view of the mountains. We could also see the tents of Camp 2 in the distance from time to time, and they didn’t seem very far away. The path now led diagonally toward the left side of the Cwm, and it was sometimes almost flat and sometimes a little steeper. Paul said he could remember from his last ascent that there was a very long hill leading directly to Camp 2. For me, it did feel like a long hill, but it wasn’t as steep as I had expected. After about 2.5 hours, we reached the lower end of Camp 2. As always on Everest, 14peaks had set up the highest and almost last camp. This meant I still had to walk another 40 minutes before reaching our camp. But first, we made one last stop, where we also took off our crampons, as the path led over stones, and it was easier to manage without crampons. I actually thought I could make the way in 30 minutes, but it was steeper than it had seemed from below, and our camp was not even visible from the bottom. I thought we would be sharing a camp with Seven Summit Treks, like we did at Camp 1, so I aimed for their dining tent. However, Chirring kept telling me several times to just keep going, and eventually, I got a little frustrated because I couldn’t find the damn tent. I took the last 10 minutes in intervals, stopping a hundred times to search for the tent, which of course took more time. When I finally spotted it in my field of vision, it was only a few minutes away, and I was relieved that we had arrived. Although it was the shortest day of the rotation, as we arrived exactly after 3 hours, I still felt almost as tired as the day before when we were on the move for 6.5 hours. The last hill was just too long for my brain 😊 It seems like both the first day with the 6 waves and the second day with the final hill each end with a "pain-in-the-ass part." 

Since it was just before 11:30 AM, Chirring and Gyalzen sent me back to the dining tent, where I drank more black tea and had a bar. They took care of my tent again, and an hour later, the "princess service" was ready for me once more. I continued drinking my black tea outside and thought that I might quickly go down to the Seven Summit Treks Camp to chat with Bianca and Paul. That's when I saw Mitch with his Sherpa Gjelze and Kristin, who were just meeting, so I walked over to them. Kristin was on her way to the Lhotse Face to explore how much snow had accumulated there. Mitch and Gjelze were coming back from their acclimatization there and were heading down. Mitch had been struggling with hoarseness for several weeks, and now his voice was almost gone, and his throat was sore. They had decided that they would take the whole journey back to base camp today to give Mitch the recovery he deserved. They might even continue descending to speed up his recovery. Kristin asked me if I wanted to join them, but since I had just arrived an hour ago, I had to unfortunately decline. Let's see if I ever get the chance to hike a mountain with Kristin in my life… I said goodbye to the three of them and walked back to my camp. There, I asked Chirring if it was okay for me to quickly stop by Bianca and Paul to check if they were doing okay. They allowed me 30 minutes since lunch was about to be served. I walked the 2 minutes down that had taken me almost 10 minutes just 2 hours ago and arrived just in time to hug Bianca as she arrived. Paul followed a few meters behind her, looking even more tired than he had when I passed them on the glacier. Since they were both relieved to have arrived and I knew from experience that one isn’t very chatty in that moment, I left them to settle in and returned to my camp. I set myself up in my tent and stayed there for a few hours. I tried to nap a little, played on my phone, and continued reading my book, as it was still cloudy outside, and it had started snowing again. At 4:30 PM, the weather outside looked much friendlier, and since I had to use the bathroom again anyway, I took it as an opportunity to crawl out of my sleeping bag and put on my down pants. In the sun, it was so pleasantly warm, and the view in front of me was so much better than just a few hours earlier. 

When the kitchen crew spotted me outside, they asked if I wanted some soup before dinner. I declined but asked if they could perhaps make a little popcorn for me. It didn’t take half an hour, and soon I had a basket of warm popcorn in my hands. Sitting outside in front of the Lhotse Face on a folding chair, munching on the popcorn, made up for all the years I had waited for this view. I think I sat there for over an hour, simply gazing at this magnificent ice wall, which I hope to eventually climb. The weather was good to us—the sun shone on the wall in all its glory. To my left stands Mount Everest, another steep rock face that I could also only admire. I had waited so long to see this mountain, and now I’m sitting right in front of it, unable to get enough of it. I have no idea what the kitchen crew thought when they saw me sitting there, much like in a movie theater when you’re watching a film and eating popcorn. Except my "movie" was a sheer rock wall and the icy Lhotse Face, and yet I am indescribably happy about it. 

I don’t know how you all feel reading this, but this sight is still beyond my comprehension (and this is four days later). I was actually sitting right in front of Everest. Right in front of it, literally and truly. In a straight line, the summit is probably still vertically 2.5 kilometers away from me. What a difference from the more than 6000 kilometers and 28 years I’ve waited to be this close to my mountain of destiny. Far away now is the frustration of the last hill to get to the end of Camp 2, which I was still carrying with me this morning. 

I stayed outside until the sun lost its strength behind the advancing veil of clouds, and I started to feel a little cold. I told the kitchen crew that I wouldn’t need dinner anymore, apart from the popcorn. They looked a bit disappointed because they had already cooked something for the three Chinese guys in the dining tent. But when I had to go inside briefly to get toilet paper, the smell almost made me nauseous, and I was very glad to get back outside quickly. After peeing, my tent was the best place to wait out the night. I learned from the first night in the Cwm and put on my warm socks for the night. I also asked Chirring to fill my warming bottles only after their dinner, so I might have some warmth to last longer through the night. Since the three of us felt great, we decided before heading to our tents that we would cancel the rest day for tomorrow and make an attempt to reach Camp 3. We planned to have breakfast at 7 a.m. and leave at 8 a.m. 

Thursday, May 1 – Camp 2 – Touch Camp 3 

My alarm went off at 6:45 am, since this time I didn’t have to pack up my tent again. I had already packed the important things the evening before, so in the morning I didn’t have to make too many unnecessary movements in the cold. After peeing, I took my backpack out of the tent into the dining tent and first put on my thick boots. Then I went into the kitchen tent, where I was warmly welcomed and immediately handed a cup of tea. The crew also wanted to know if I wanted noodle soup for breakfast. Just the thought of it made it hard for me to continue drinking my tea. However, since I couldn’t leave the tent without eating, busy hands stretched a package of cookies toward my face. I saw the packaging and knew they were chocolate cookies, so I bravely took one. In the morning, eating is always especially difficult for me because I usually don’t eat at home until around noon. That means the challenge is greatest in the morning. The chocolate cookies were a good thing, and I managed to eat 5 of them over the next half hour, along with about 4 cups of tea. Meanwhile, Chirring and Gyalzen also showed up, but both complained of headaches. Since we weren’t in a hurry, I told them that, despite the different plan, we could take a rest day today. They had carried 25 kg each around for the past two days, so it was almost obvious to me that their bodies would welcome a break. But they said they were fine and just needed breakfast. I suggested that we would decide after breakfast whether we would rest or ascend to Camp 3. 

Now, I was able to witness firsthand in the kitchen tent the hustle and bustle as numerous people tried to melt useful water and get the stove running better. It seemed that one of the Nepali was responsible for cooking breakfast, but many hands also contributed. After about 20 minutes, noodles and soups were ladled into bowls and distributed to all the other Nepali. They slurped the contents of their bowls in seconds and went outside to clean them by hand. Once again, Chirring and Gyalzen refused the rest day, and we met outside to attach our crampons for our adventure. By now, two people were already on the route toward Camp 3, luckily breaking trail through the snow that had fallen during the night. At the beginning, there was still no rope set up, so we had to navigate using the flags. The trail initially wound quite flatly or with very little incline along the crevasses towards the Lhotse Face. We approached the two trailbreakers slowly but steadily, and the closer we got, the slower they seemed. When we were already in sight, I discovered that it was a Sherpa with his client on the short rope. 

The short rope is actually not necessary here, unless the guide wants the client to keep up with the pace to some extent. Behind us were about 10 other people, likely with the same plan as ours. After 1.5 hours, we had caught up with the two people ahead of us, and all that lay ahead was a new snowfield, partially interrupted by flags. I hesitated to let Chirring go into the fresh snow, as I knew we were still on a glacier and at any moment there could be a crevasse lurking somewhere. However, we had no other choice but to take the lead. Gyalzen reassured me that it would be fine, and I just had to trust that the fixing team had marked any crevasses along the route. So, I followed Chirring at a 5-meter distance, making my way up the increasingly steep hill towards the bergschrund. It took about half an hour before we reached the end of the hill, where a beautiful traverse appeared before us, secured by orange ropes in a glacier crevasse. First, you have to jumare up about 5 meters, then traverse another 5 meters, during which your feet have no real hold. That is, under all the snow, there is no clear place to place your feet, or at least a few spikes of your crampons. After that, you need to jumare up another 7 meters before you reach the base of the Lhotse Face. This spot will definitely be interesting when the mountain fills up, and even people with a bit less experience with the equipment will have to get through here. I already dread what kind of conflicts could arise if someone gets stuck, because the traverse is not easy, and below you, there is a wonderfully deep glacier crevasse. I had to control myself quite a bit, stopping 2-3 times to catch my breath before I could continue. But I did so with the full awareness that no one was waiting behind me. I have no idea how I will react if people are waiting behind me and others above me also want to descend. Then you’re stuck in the middle of the traverse, panicking, and can’t move anymore… We’ll see... 

But back to the present. Now I am at the foot of the Lhotse Face, and all I see are parts of orange ropes in the middle of an endless wall. Since we are the first ones, and there was some fresh snow in the past two days, the ropes were partially covered in snow. Additionally, the underlying ground was hidden under the deep snow, so you never knew if the next step would hold, if you would slip a bit, or if there was an ice plate beneath. Chirring, as usual, went ahead and stopped every 10 steps to give me time to follow him. Unfortunately, the steps he made were a bit too big for me. At times, I was reminded of Ama Dablam, but I never once thought about turning back. 

I absolutely wanted to get over 7000m today. Partly because I had never been above that limit without oxygen, and partly because I wanted to prove to Everest that I was taking my rotation seriously. And for me, Camp 3 was just part of that. The individual steps were exhausting, and the many breaks somehow also felt tiresome. Still, I was always glad when I could catch my breath for a minute. I looked up too often to see how much further it was, and even though I noticed the slow progress, I wondered how it would be during the summit rotation. On that rotation, I would have to ascend from Camp 2 to Camp 3 in one day, and then continue to Camp 4 the next. And that, even though Camp 3 isn't halfway up the Lhotse Face, meaning the second day would involve even more uphill climbing. But I tried to push those thoughts away and focus on the fact that I was on the Lhotse Face, just a heartbeat away from the summit, compared to where I had come from. I think if I had told the guys that I wanted to turn back, they would have let me, so it was in my hands how high I wanted to go. Somehow, the higher we got, the less I wanted to turn back, because then all the effort would have been almost in vain. Maybe that's what kept me going, and just below Camp 3, about 30 minutes below it, there was a small traverse where it wasn't just steeply uphill. From there on, it was 100% clear that we were going all the way to Camp 3, and I was relieved when we finally reached the spot where 14peaks had set up camp. Just above, there were the six tents that had been set up, but we didn't go those last 15 meters. A glance at the watch showed me that it had taken me 2 hours since the narrow spot at the foot of the Lhotse Face. So, we had been on the way for exactly 4 hours to reach Camp 3. Phunuru and Allan had predicted almost 4 weeks ago that I would be fit enough to make it to Camp 3 in four hours. The fact that it took me exactly that long, even though I felt so slow, really surprised me. I also didn't feel as tired as I had expected after the 2 hours in the fresh snow. Since the two guys were still suffering from headaches, we only had a quick drink and then prepared for the descent. In the meantime, the weather had turned and fresh snow started to fall. So, we put on an extra layer, and I had them explain to me again how to best handle the rappel device, so it wouldn’t accidentally fall off my harness. I had only used it once a few years ago, as I usually prefer the ATC. But since some ropes here are either too frozen or too thick for the ATC, we decided to use the rappel device on the mountain. I gladly accepted the tips from the two of them and began the first rappel. Ironically, it only took us about 30 minutes to descend to the foot of the face. The painstakingly gained altitude seemed to rush by, and since there weren't many anchors, we didn't have to unclip that often. Unfortunately, my harness was tightening around my stomach a bit, so I had to take a short break while rappelling. It felt as though I was about to vomit. But after a brief relief, I was fine again for a few minutes. On the way down, we crossed paths with a guide with Westerlin, who was using oxygen, and three Sherpas with large backpacks. 

When we arrived back at the traverse that had scared me during the ascent, I realized that you can't tell from above whether someone is stuck in the traverse or not. Calling out doesn't really work either, as the echo doesn't carry around the corner. So, you have to pull on the rope and hope that the traverse is clear before you clip in. Honestly, I'm not sure if there are many opportunities to re-anchor if you're rappelling down while someone else is ascending. I definitely don't look forward to passing this spot a second and third time. I just hope that there will be few people on the mountain and that we'll have some luck when descending from my two summits at this point. Once again, I took a deep breath and made it through the traverse, feeling relieved when we were finally past it. Below that spot, we met Kristin, who—once again alone—was on her way for a night in Camp 3. She asked us a bit about the condition of the face and whether anyone above her was still on the route. She knew that the three Sherpas were climbing with the goal of setting up a few tents and then returning to Camp 2. So, she would be spending the night up there all alone. I took the opportunity and finally asked her for a photo, as I want to remember for the next 10 years that I was at my dream mountain at the same time as a legend. She agreed, and I even offered her one of the Theos to keep her company in Camp 3, but she politely declined and instead took some mental unicorn power with her. We continued the rest of the way to Camp 2 and, just one hour after leaving Camp 3, we were back in our camp. The snowstorm had gotten a little stronger, so I immediately retreated to my tent. Chirring knew exactly what I needed, and 10 minutes later I was already stocked with black tea and popcorn. Once again, the weather behaved similarly to yesterday, and the later the day got, the more the sun appeared at the end of the Western Cwm. I couldn't resist sitting outside on the folding chair again today, just looking at the Lhotse Face. I know that after this expedition I’ll never come back here, and I want to soak up this entire environment so much that it almost hurts. 

The view is breathtaking, the upper part of Lhotse covered in snow. The rock face to my left is now mostly covered in snow as well, but you can still see the different rock layers beneath, flashing through. I’ve read about the geological structure of Everest a few times, but I still can’t remember it. I only know that the yellow band is named after the color of the rock, and that this band runs through the whole mountain and is visible from here as well. Of all the views of Everest, this one is my favorite so far, although I’m pretty sure I can’t see the summit from here. It looks somehow different, yet very similar to how it looks from the Khumbu Valley. Since it was getting cold outside and the sun was about to disappear behind the clouds again, I wanted to go back to my tent. However, Chirring suggested that I come to the kitchen tent instead, since it would be warmer there, and I hadn’t eaten anything yet. So, at 6 p.m., I ended up in the bustling kitchen tent. The Nepali didn’t quite understand why I was sitting there, even though it was a dining tent for us Westerners. But there were three Russian women sitting there, who were coughing a little—double the reason not to sit in there. I enjoyed the hour in the kitchen tent, as the view offered there is something not everyone gets to experience. The kitchen can be described, in the best way, as rudimentary. There are three gas canisters in the middle of the room, each with a large bowl of ice and/or water sitting on top. Then, as a room divider, there is a small table made from ice, with flat stones placed on it. This is where the head cook prepares the meals, but there are also various bowls with spices, etc. Next to it, a part is covered with a wooden board, on which thermoses are placed, filled with either milk tea, black tea, or hot water. The Sherpas are allowed to help themselves, and my cup was also refilled regularly. Since the kitchen crew kept trying to convince me to eat the Dal Baht that was cooked for the Nepali, but I wasn’t hungry at all, I eventually decided to ask for a bowl of cornflakes. They wouldn’t let me leave the tent without eating something, and even though the food smelled very good, I couldn’t bring myself to eat any of it. Even the few spoonfuls of cornflakes took a lot of effort and time. At around 7 p.m., I had my bottles filled with hot water, went to the bathroom again, and then snuggled into my sleeping bag for the last night in camp. I had arranged with the guys that we would leave at 5:30 a.m. the next morning to head straight back to Basecamp. So the night would be rather short, but that was perfectly fine with me. 

Friday, May 2 – Camp 2 to Base Camp 

I couldn’t sleep as well this night as I had in Base Camp, but I think I managed to get a few hours of sleep. Since I had to pack up everything in my tent again, I let myself be woken up by my alarm at 4:45 am. The first thing I did was go to the bathroom, and I took my backpack with me to the dining tent, where I had already packed everything possible. On the way, I ran into Kristin again. She hadn’t slept much during the night, but she felt good. Since she also planned to go to Base Camp today, she had left early from 7000m and had already been on her way for an hour. After a short chat, I went back to the tent to pack up my sleeping bag and air mattress into their travel size. I also left my large snack bag there. These three things would stay at Camp 2 because, during our summit rotation, we would go directly from EBC to Camp 2, and I wouldn’t need them in EBC. 

In the meantime, Chirring had shown up and invited me into the kitchen tent again. There were thermoses with hot beverages ready, and once again, I woke up with black tea. With even less hunger than yesterday, I managed to eat only 2 cookies this time, but I drank 2-3 cups of tea. Honestly, I don’t know if Chirring and Gyalzen ate anything for breakfast; there was nothing prepared for them, but I saw Chirring nibbling on a chocolate cookie while I put on my climbing harness. This time, Gyalzen was responsible for packing up and securing my sleeping bag and other things. 

I assume he put everything into a rice sack labeled for us and placed it next to the oxygen bottles that had already been carried up for me, beside the dining tent. We didn't put on our crampons yet, because we wanted to walk down the first steep hill to the lower Camp 2 without them. Right on time at 5:30 am, we set off. We set quite a fast pace, but after just a few minutes, we were overtaken by a few Sherpas who seemed to be sprinting down the hill. However, I wanted to be careful with my steps, as an injury at this point would be even more unfortunate than in the last few months. Once we reached the lower end of the camp, the rocks were no longer in the way, and we were able to continue at a similar pace to the Sherpas in front of us. Finally, I was back in my hiking rhythm, and it felt amazing to feel that way without being too out of breath. The atmosphere in the Western Cwm was also unique. We crossed only Sherpas, the air was crystal clear, and the sky was that typical Nepalese blue. The view of Pumori and the others was spectacular, and the valley seemed to radiate a stillness that I hadn’t noticed on the way up two days ago. I had to stop several times to capture the scene with my iPhone, but I doubt I could really preserve the atmosphere that way. I definitely enjoyed every single second we spent in this small high plateau. Almost 30 minutes after setting off, we stood on the platform above the vertical crevasse, and we put on our crampons. The vertical section wasn’t very crowded, so we were able to rappel down and continue on our way in peace. Another 25 minutes later, we had already arrived at Camp 1. Gyalzen asked me if I needed a break, but I felt good and was slowly craving Base Camp again, so I was fine with continuing. We let a group of Sherpas, who were also accompanied by Kristin, go ahead. They set a brutal pace, and since I remembered the wonderfully steep 6 waves waiting for us at the beginning, we were happy to let them pass. I took the waves very slowly because, even though I had spent a few minutes at 7000m, we were still at 6066m, and breathing up here is just harder. After the waves, I was able to enjoy the path much more. At first, we crossed only a few Sherpas, and after about 100 meters of ascent, we encountered our first little delay. I knew that I probably wouldn’t have the luck to have a completely empty Icefall in front of me again, but seeing about 25-30 people was still somehow unexpected. The spot was just a short ladder that needed to be crossed, a typical one-way section. Fortunately, there was a nice Sherpa below the ladder who recognized Chirring, and he let us go ahead. Probably, Chirring had told him while waiting that I wasn’t too clumsy and that the wait would be short. In any case, we were already on the ladder after maybe 6 minutes of waiting, and then passed all the waiting people to continue our descent. The overtaking was smooth because it was a wide section. Just a few minutes later, it wouldn’t have been that easy anymore.
 We encountered another small group at the first technical spot below the ladder. We let two Sherpas pass, then rappelled into a crevasse and climbed up the other side. When we were at the bottom of the crevasse, a few Indian Army personnel were already rappelling at our climbing spot, so we had to wait briefly there as well. Since new Indians were already ready at the top to rappel down, we didn’t waste time and climbed ahead of them. I didn’t want to make them wait too long, so I picked up the pace, but of course, I regretted it halfway through; however, I couldn’t stop at that point. Once we reached the top, I took a 5-minute breather. 

These two short delays were, however, the only events on the way back that showed that some people still want to climb Everest this year. We continued to cross paths with individuals, but always at well-visible and safe spots, allowing us to descend at our own pace. After 2.5 hours, we reached the Crampon Point again. The last 20 minutes were really warm, and I had to take off layers twice to avoid sweating. We had made it out of the Icefall before the sun hit it, which is a major safety factor and also made me a bit proud, as we were almost down in Sherpa time. We took off our crampons and continued toward Base Camp. The sun was already shining strongly here, so I quickly started to feel hot. Since we were so close to the goal, I didn’t want to change again, and I couldn’t get my hot feet out of the boots until we reached the tent. So, I endured the last 15 minutes, trying desperately not to think about the fact that next time I would walk through here in the opposite direction, hopefully with 2 summits in hand, satisfied but very tired. Almost unbelievable for me, but still a goal that is irresistibly approaching. I took the last steep meters into camp very slowly, and at the entrance, I thanked Chirring and Gyalzen. I then continued to the Puja shrine to thank for the successful rotation and then made my way to the tent. On the way, I ran into Jo, who asked me a bit about the mountain. She couldn’t wait to finally go through the Icefall, and it was planned for her to depart that night. I went back to my tent and could finally, finally take off the shoes in which my feet had been cooking. After that, I changed, sat down on my bed in the tent, and delivered the good news to my family that I was safely back. I enjoyed the quiet of the hour and spent the entire morning in my tent. I read the news, answered text messages, ate some snacks, or just sat there, happy with how well everything had been going in the last few days. At 12:30, I went to the kitchen tent to inform the crew that I was back. I also wanted to ask if they could make fries with fried eggs for me. Then I sat in the dining tent and drank tea until the food came. Unfortunately, they hadn’t quite understood me, so the requested meal didn’t arrive. Since I now really had to eat as much as I could, I asked again for fries with fried eggs, which I then got with a little delay. In the afternoon, I mostly sat in the dining tent to answer the many messages and go through my photos. I actually wanted to shower as well, but since the weather changed in the afternoon, I decided to skip it. For dinner, I wanted the same again, but once again, it didn’t work out. I did get fried eggs, but with spaghetti and two fried potatoes. Luckily, I was able to pass on the spaghetti, and after eating, I clarified with the kitchen crew that, from now on, I would like fries with fried eggs. After dinner, I read a little in my book, then went to bed soon because the last few nights had really worn me out. 

Saturday, May 3 – EBC 

I had a wonderful sleep that night and woke up at 6 am as usual in Base Camp. I then enjoyed the warmth of my sleeping bag and played around a bit on my phone. By 8 am, I was already in the dining tent, where I learned that others had pushed breakfast time back by half an hour. It would have been nice to know that earlier, but I used the time to read some more. After breakfast, it was still wonderfully sunny and windless, so I took advantage of the moment and enjoyed the shower I had planned yesterday. The air was almost not cold, and it was the best shower experience I had so far in Base Camp. I almost had to laugh when I realized that this was only my fourth shower since I left Kathmandu, and it had already been five weeks. Afterward, I finally took out my laptop and began writing about my experiences from the rotation. Since I was being quite thorough, time passed quickly, and before I knew it, the laptop battery was already dead. Less than 15 minutes later, it was lunchtime, so it didn’t bother me much. In the afternoon, I mostly played on my phone or chatted a bit with Dr. Berus or Alfredo, who oversee the medical care for Seven Summit Trek and 14Peaks. I also took advantage of the good Wi-Fi to have another video call with Raphael. We had a one-hour video call without interruption, so I now know what our five Schnüsis (a term of endearment) and he look like. He seems to be enjoying his time without his girlfriend at home, and I’m really happy about that. Even though I’m also looking forward to being back home, and for life to continue normally. 

By now, the kitchen crew had understood that I wanted to eat the same thing at every meal, so at 6:30 pm, after the hot towel before dinner, a plate with 2 fried eggs and fries arrived. The hot towel will especially be familiar to the regular readers of the Manaslu blog. Right before dinner, Pasang always appears with a pan, where a hot washcloth waits for everyone. It’s soaked with a little eucalyptus, making it a perfect warm refreshment before going to bed. The towel is too hot at first, and every day I try to catch the perfect moment to bury my face in it and let the heat sink into my body before it cools down. Shortly after this ritual, dinner appears, along with a small bowl of fruit.
 Today, I wanted to finish my book, so I stayed a little longer in the dining tent after dinner. But when everyone else had disappeared, I made my way back to my tent because Dipen’s instruction is always to work until the dining tent is empty. I didn’t want to drag it out artificially, because once the Russians were back, the evenings would become endless, and I wanted to give Dipen early evenings until then.So I read a little more in my tent until I got too tired. 

Sunday, May 4 – EBC 

Today is already my second rest day since my rotation. Yesterday afternoon, Gyalzen came by to warn me that we wouldn’t be going on our summit rotation before May 12. The fixing team had gone to Base Camp for two days of rest, and bad weather was forecast for May 5–6. They had set off again this morning for Camp 2, but there’s a lot of fresh snow above Camp 3, and no one knows how long it will take until they’ve made their way up to the South Col. Val, who wants to summit Everest this year without oxygen, also left this morning, because once the South Col is fixed, he wants to spend at least one night up there. For me, this means I can prepare for at least 9 more rest days, and I don’t know exactly how I want to spend that time. On one hand, I think the Base Camp is good enough to stay here, but on the other hand, recovery would probably go better further down in the valley. For me, it only makes sense to leave Base Camp if I get a significant improvement out of it. Going just to Dingboche or Namche would be a small improvement compared to the effort it would take to make that move. I’d prefer to fly to Kathmandu by helicopter, sleep well there, have a pizza every day, treat myself to a massage, and then fly back after five days. Apart from the fact that it goes against the principles I set before the expedition to fly to Kathmandu, it’s also environmentally and financially ridiculous. Still, all the benefits are tempting, especially when I hear this morning that Bianca and Paul flew to Kathmandu yesterday because Paul is still sick. I admit, that makes me quite jealous, and my cravings and longings grew strongly after hearing that.I also now know that a flight to KTM costs around 1000 USD, so a 5-day "trip" to KTM would cost me about 2500 USD when you include the hotel, etc. Even though I could probably afford it with the currently ridiculously low exchange rate, it’s simply too much for me. So, I have to prepare myself to stay here in EBC for the next 7–9 days. I’m curious to see how well I manage that, especially now that I’ve updated most of the blog and already enjoyed my shower. I still have laundry that I can wash once the weather gets better. Right now, it’s very cloudy and cold. Then, I have 3 puzzles to work on, an idea for a creative project, and with the good Wi-Fi, I can also order more puzzles anytime 😊 Now I just need to find the motivation for all of it. Today, I moved to the coffee tent to write the blog, where I drank a hot chocolate almost every hour. That’s how time passed after lunch, and now I’m sitting in our dining tent, trying to use the time after dinner to send out the blog. 

Sunday, May 4 – EBC 

Today is already my second rest day since my rotation. Yesterday afternoon, Gyalzen came by to warn me that we wouldn’t be going on our summit rotation before May 12. The fixing team had gone to Base Camp for two days of rest, and bad weather was forecast for May 5–6. They had set off again this morning for Camp 2, but there’s a lot of fresh snow above Camp 3, and no one knows how long it will take until they’ve made their way up to the South Col. Val, who wants to summit Everest this year without oxygen, also left this morning, because once the South Col is fixed, he wants to spend at least one night up there. For me, this means I can prepare for at least 9 more rest days, and I don’t know exactly how I want to spend that time. On one hand, I think the Base Camp is good enough to stay here, but on the other hand, recovery would probably go better further down in the valley. For me, it only makes sense to leave Base Camp if I get a significant improvement out of it. Going just to Dingboche or Namche would be a small improvement compared to the effort it would take to make that move. I’d prefer to fly to Kathmandu by helicopter, sleep well there, have a pizza every day, treat myself to a massage, and then fly back after five days. Apart from the fact that it goes against the principles I set before the expedition to fly to Kathmandu, it’s also environmentally and financially ridiculous. Still, all the benefits are tempting, especially when I hear this morning that Bianca and Paul flew to Kathmandu yesterday because Paul is still sick. I admit, that makes me quite jealous, and my cravings and longings grew strongly after hearing that.I also now know that a flight to KTM costs around 1000 USD, so a 5-day "trip" to KTM would cost me about 2500 USD when you include the hotel, etc. Even though I could probably afford it with the currently ridiculously low exchange rate, it’s simply too much for me. So, I have to prepare myself to stay here in EBC for the next 7–9 days. I’m curious to see how well I manage that, especially now that I’ve updated most of the blog and already enjoyed my shower. I still have laundry that I can wash once the weather gets better. Right now, it’s very cloudy and cold. Then, I have 3 puzzles to work on, an idea for a creative project, and with the good Wi-Fi, I can also order more puzzles anytime 😊 Now I just need to find the motivation for all of it. Today, I moved to the coffee tent to write the blog, where I drank a hot chocolate almost every hour. That’s how time passed after lunch, and now I’m sitting in our dining tent, trying to use the time after dinner to send out the blog. 

Friday, 18th of April - EBC 

The day once again began with waking up in a warm sleeping bag. Judging by the sounds outside, it wasn't going to be the sunniest day. When I finally peeled myself out of the sleeping bag shortly after 8 a.m. and unzipped the tent, I was greeted by about 5 cm of fresh snow and a partly cloudy sky. Juan Pedro was already sitting in the dining tent with a freshly made coffee in hand. We chatted a bit, and shortly afterward, breakfast was served. While we were eating, Valery slipped in, and by 9 a.m., Regina was also at the table. These are currently all the climbers present, although apparently more are expected to arrive today.

Yesterday, I finally met up with Jo, who, after 20 days of trekking and summiting Island Peak, has now arrived at her home base too. I got to know and appreciate her on Manaslu. She’s on Everest as a VIP, which means she has her own dining tent that she’ll be sharing with the six Russians who were also on Manaslu. After we had breakfast, she came over to us for a bit, and we chatted together.

I've now been uploading my blog for an hour and hope I can get everything online despite the snail-paced Wi-Fi.

Part II:
The attentive reader will probably guess where I’m sitting right now. There aren’t many options here. Our dining tent has quieted down a bit again after 21 Russians practically stormed in for lunch yesterday. But let’s start from the beginning and go back to last Friday.

Uploading the blog took me over two hours. That’s because I reorganized the homepage a bit and also had to translate the entire new text into English. I’m curious how many GB that will cost me each time. Shortly after I closed the laptop, lunch arrived. Most of the time, we have some kind of potatoes on our plates, along with either pasta or rice and eggs. Honestly, I can’t remember what exactly we had on Friday, but I do know that I returned every plate empty (Empty Plate No. 8–10?!). I always take my time with meals. Even though the food gets cold quickly, I just can’t scarf it down. And on rest days, you have all the time in the world—so why not enjoy eating slowly, too?

Even before lunch, I’d brought out a puzzle from my tent, which I continued working on during the wait and even while eating. It’s a Chinese wooden puzzle I ordered ages ago for very little money. The shapes of the pieces are different than usual, which helped time pass more easily. After that, I watched the fresh snow melt and once again chatted with Regina and Juan-Pedro.

As I passed by my tent later on, I noticed a small patch of artificial grass in front of it. The day before, the entire path between the tents had already been laid out with it, and I’d joked that they had forgotten my tent. Looks like they caught up on that now. I’m not entirely sure what the point of it is, but a bit of green can’t hurt in this otherwise white, red, and rocky landscape.

On Thursday evening, a group of Sherpas also headed into the Icefall to continue supplying Camp 2 with equipment. Chirring also set out to carry up some gear. He mentioned two tents and “other stuff,” whatever that might mean.

When the sun came out briefly in the afternoon, I decided to do a bit of handwashing. We’re hoping for sunny weather tomorrow, so the clothes should be dry by then at the latest. Doing laundry here is pretty simple: you let the kitchen crew know you want to wash clothes. They heat up a large jug of water and then give you two metal basins, one of which is already filled with hot water. In front of the kitchen tent is the Sherpa laundry station, and if it's free, you're allowed to use it.

I don’t know if I was doing it right—the few Sherpas who passed by the wash station either grinned or watched with mild curiosity before moving along. My approach was as follows: first, I put two or three items of clothing in the empty basin. Then I poured hot water from the other basin using a plastic cup, added a bit of soap, and swirled and rubbed the clothes until the water wasn’t quite so clear anymore. Then I wrung them out slightly and set them aside. I repeated the process until every item had at least briefly come into contact with soap and water. I also emptied the dirty water now and then. Afterward, I rinsed all the clothes again in clean water to get most of the dirt and especially the smell out. Finally, I wrung everything out well and packed it into a bag.

I walked back to our row of tents and carefully hung everything up. Just as I finished, another layer of clouds rolled in, so the clothes got maybe 20 minutes of sun at most. But since I still have plenty of clean clothes, it didn’t really matter. I hung my underwear up inside the tent just in case—it can get unexpectedly windy during the night.

After washing, I returned to the dining tent for the usual evening chats with Valery, Regina, and Juan-Pedro, and my Tolino e-reader. As always, it was straight into the sleeping bag shortly after dinner, either to try the Wi-Fi or to read a bit more.

Saturday, April 19 – EBC – Fiesta Mexicana

Today was marked by brilliant sunshine without even the tiniest cloud in the sky. Contrary to what the kitchen team had told us, no new guests arrived today. Honestly, we were all a bit relieved—somehow, we enjoy the calm and the slower pace without the hustle and bustle.

Once again, I had fried eggs with toast and a piece of fruit for breakfast. Afterward, I wanted to do a bit of reading when Juan-Pedro suddenly said it was too hot inside the tent and he wanted to sit outside for a bit. No sooner said than done—everyone grabbed a chair, and we headed down to our row of tents. At the end of the row, there’s a little spot with a direct view of the Icefall. Juan-Pedro’s tent is there, and from now on we’re calling it his front yard.

I also dragged along a thermos full of black tea, and Dipen came with us to make sure we had everything we needed. It was beautifully calm with no wind, so we sat there in our thin long-sleeved sun hoodies—Juan-Pedro with a Mexican hat, and I even rolled up my pants and went barefoot for a while. Unfortunately, I had forgotten that my legs hadn’t seen the sun in ages. The result came the next day in the form of a rather annoying sunburn on my shins.

But the two hours in the sun were truly enjoyable. We watched climbers on the route through the Icefall or others practicing their techniques on the glacier. We listened to music and sat together in silence. I also brought out the Theos—after all, they also need regular sunlight and fresh air 😊

Valery had set off toward Camp 1 in the morning, and we wondered whether we might catch a glimpse of him somewhere. But the distance was too great to see more than moving figures.

When it was time for lunch, we happily headed toward the dining tent, which was still very warm inside. A bit later, Juan-Pedro went to fetch all the chairs again, and once more we were amazed at how little it takes to be completely out of breath up here. We’re talking about carrying four chairs over 150 meters with about 10 meters of elevation gain.

After lunch, I read a bit more, and when it got cooler, I moved into my tent. Most of the laundry had already dried, so I could bring it back inside. I also changed into my nightwear early because around 4 PM I headed to the coffee tent of the company 8K Expeditions, where I had plans to meet up with some other climbers over a hot chocolate.

The official path goes 20 meters down and back up again, with the tent maybe 400 meters away as the crow flies. But I chose a path through the Sherpa tents, where I got a few odd looks now and then. Still, I made it safely to the coffee tent in about 10 minutes.

There, I met Julia—a Russian who lives in Zermatt. I had exchanged a couple of sentences with her on the way from the summit to Camp 4 on Manaslu. We mostly kept in touch through occasional text messages on Instagram.

Then there was Bianca from Australia—the youngest person to summit Manaslu, whom I also met last year at base camp. When we were all stuck in Samagaun, we had long and meaningful conversations. She’s here now with her father, aiming to become the youngest Australian (male or female) to summit Everest.

Her father had climbed Everest with her mother 20 years ago. Well, her mother summited Everest while Paul had to turn back due to an oxygen tank malfunction—he summited the year after. This will now be his third expedition.

There were also two Brazilians there, but they left shortly after and were replaced by Mitch. I had run into Mitch 1.5 years ago on Ama Dablam. He was on his way back to Camp 1 after his summit, while we were on our way up. We met briefly at the Yellow Tower—the most rockfall-prone section—so we only exchanged a few words. Still, he remembered me when I spoke to him briefly this year in Lukla.

Now we finally had more time to talk. His path to Everest is probably the most impressive I’ve ever heard. His journey started on September 15th: he set out to complete the world’s longest triathlon. First, he swam from England across the Channel to France, then biked from there to India. From India, he ran a series of marathons all the way to Kathmandu. He stayed overnight at the British Embassy there and then followed in Edmund Hillary’s footsteps, trekking to Lukla. After a 10-day rest, he continued to EBC with his trekking group.

Now he’s here, preparing like everyone else for the summit attempt on Mount Everest. If you want to follow his journey in detail, just search for Mitch Hutchcraft on YouTube or Instagram.

After two hours of laughing and chatting, I headed back to our dining tent, where everyone else had already gathered so we could eat dinner together.

 Sunday, April 20 – EBC – Happy Birthday Daddy

 Another rest day was on the agenda today. I’m honestly getting tired of just sitting around—I can hardly wait to finally do something different. But today would have been my dad’s 77th birthday, and I took that as an opportunity to head down to the glacier after breakfast and build a little smiley face and a heart out of stones for him. I took my time—I certainly have enough of it today. It’s actually fun doing things like that out here, since I haven’t really done anything like it since I was a child. 

The sun was shining once again from a cloudless sky, and there wasn’t much wind either. Other than that, today’s summary is simple: I ate three meals, tried multiple times to get the Wi-Fi to work, drank my usual 3 liters of tea and/or water, visited the pee tent regularly, and read an entire book. 

Around 4 p.m., I found myself back in the coffee tent—this time in our own, as it’s now open. We had agreed yesterday to meet there today because it’s bigger than the 8K tent. It was the same crew as yesterday, but this time Bianca’s father was also there, as well as Ewan, a Californian I’d only spoken to briefly at Manaslu, but who still remembered my down suit. Bella was there too—she trekked to EBC with Mitch and is spending a week here. She wants to write a book in the next few years about why people climb 8000-meter peaks and plans to attempt Everest herself in two years. A few days ago, she summited Lobuche East with Mitch’s group, and after leaving EBC, she’ll also be trying Island Peak before heading home at the end of the month. 

She read us her editorial, and we already know the book will be a great one. I’m curious how long it will take before I can hold it in my hands. I’ll have to be patient for a few years, but life has already shown me a few times that the wait is often worth it. 

Today, Mitch and I discovered that our connections to Everest have lasted about the same number of years and have evolved in a similar way. It’s always fascinating talking to him, even though he speaks at a breakneck pace. Luckily, I’m not new to English—otherwise I wouldn’t understand a word. He seems a bit like someone driven by something, who can hardly believe that after all these years, he’s really here to attempt Everest. I feel the same way, and I see the same emotions in his eyes that I feel: disbelief, pride, respect, a little fear, and a whole lot of anticipation. 

During those hours in the coffee tent, we talked about all kinds of things. It’s always fascinating to me how quickly strangers can open up and talk about very personal topics. Everyone is here for a different reason, yet within minutes, we become a kind of community you don’t find anywhere else. Anyone who has been on a mountain expedition will understand that feeling. I won’t even try to explain it further—you simply have to experience it yourself to understand what I mean. Take this as an invitation to sign up for a multi-day trek (no, it doesn’t have to be in the Himalayas) or to plan one on your own and go out and do it. I promise you won’t regret it. 

Around the usual time, it was time to leave the coffee tent—no one wants to be late for dinner. I was greeted by Chirring and Gyalzen, who told me that tomorrow we’d finally be heading onto the glacier for some practice, so that I’ll be ready whenever we’re cleared to move toward Camp 1. After dinner, I packed the essentials into my backpack so I’d be ready to go in the morning. 

 Monday, April 21 – EBC – Glacier Training

 Another sunny day awaited me as I stepped out of the tent this morning. Embarrassingly, the kitchen crew had to come get me out of my tent because I mistakenly thought breakfast was at 8:30 a.m. Since Saturday, it’s actually been at 8:00, and I had simply forgotten. I’d been awake since 6:30 a.m., as usual, just couldn’t convince myself to get up. So at 8:15, Dipen had to come down to my tent to check if everything was okay. I felt a bit ashamed, since I usually make a point of being on time. The kitchen crew, led by Nathi, does an excellent job, and I don’t want to make things harder for them. They fulfill every request, listen to us, and do everything to make sure we’re well taken care of. I’m deeply impressed every day by how much love and attention to detail they put into their work and how much we matter to them. Being late feels like a no-go. But they took it with humor, and five minutes later I was already sitting in front of another plate of toast and a hot veggie omelet. 

I took my time eating, and at 9 a.m., Gyalzen showed up to tell me we’d be heading out around 9:30. After breakfast, I went back to the tent to change clothes for training. I wanted to pack all my gloves so I could practice with each pair and mentally prepare myself for the first steps in my big boots since Manaslu. Regina and Juan-Pedro would also be practicing on the glacier today, so we all met at 10 a.m. at the already prepared course. 

The goal for me was to get back into the rhythm of walking on ladders, using the ascender, and rappelling. The first round was a disaster. I tried to drive the front points of my crampons into the ice, where they wouldn’t hold. Still, I put my full weight on the spikes, which promptly slipped. Within two minutes, I had two aching knees and started questioning what I was doing here. I know I can do better than that—it just seemed like I needed a few minutes to get my head back into it. Completely out of breath and in pain, I reached the top. My harness was also a bit too tight, and it felt like breakfast was about to come back out—one way or another. So I took a few minutes on the platform to calm down and focus on the short traverse. That part went fine, although I didn’t fully trust my crampons yet. 

The final part was rappelling, and Gyalzen insisted on clipping the rope into my device for me. Strangely enough, the 11-meter vertical wall didn’t bother me at all, and I was back down in half a minute. Still, I wasn’t happy with my first run. The pain in my knees would probably stick around for a few days—totally unnecessary. While Regina and Juan-Pedro were doing their run, I took some time to drink and focus on what I can do. I practiced a few rounds on the ladder and quickly remembered how to position the steps under my boots. I also tried to lean forward so that the rope would stay taut without help from Gyalzen or Chirring. I really hope I can manage that on the actual route—there, the ladders will be hanging above deep glacier crevasses. 

The second round went much better. I took more time to place my front points properly, and I’d adjusted the harness beforehand. Luckily, the sore knees didn’t really slow me down, and after just under five minutes, I was back at the bottom. I kept going for a while longer, doing multiple rounds on the ropes and constantly switching gloves so I could practice every motion with liner gloves, thick fingered gloves, and even my heaviest mitts. When I had to wait, I crossed the ladder a few more times and made sure to climb both to the left and right of the rope and switch arms so I wouldn’t build habits and would tire my arm muscles evenly. The Icefall route changes all the time, so I want to be mentally prepared for that. 

After just under two hours, the training session wrapped up and we packed everything away. I was content and just hoped I wouldn’t be sore the next day—otherwise, it would really shake my confidence. The normal duration through the Icefall is 6–8 hours, so if I was already sore after 2 hours of training, that would be a bit discouraging. 

We headed back to the dining tent for lunch, as usual. When we arrived, there was a bit of commotion—apparently 21 Russians were expected for lunch, trekking toward EBC. Luckily, we were able to eat in peace before they arrived. As soon as someone said they were five minutes away, I gathered my things and made my way to the coffee tent. On the way, I passed the group—some of them looked totally wiped out. I greeted a few, but got no response, so I left it at that and disappeared into the coffee tent. I was enjoying a hot chocolate when one of the Russian women—probably a guide—came in and started talking on the phone with Tashi. Tashi owns 14peaks, and his brother runs a helicopter company. Apparently, some of the trekkers wanted to fly straight back to Namche or Kathmandu—they didn’t want to spend another minute at altitude. During lunch, the kitchen crew told me that five of them were planning to stay and attempt Everest. Turns out they’re the same five I briefly encountered at Manaslu Base Camp last year. We had our own dining tent then, so we only interacted with them outdoors or in the coffee tent. They usually sat outside on rest days, one of them smoking a pipe, and in the evenings you could hear guitar music coming from their tent. 

I wasn’t alone in the coffee tent for long—soon Bella, Bianca, Mitch, Ben, Ewan, and the rest trickled in, and we stayed there until just before 6 p.m. At some point in between, I went to my tent to put on warmer clothes. Once the sun goes down, it gets significantly colder. It also helps to change while the tent is still a bit warm, not after dinner when it’s already freezing. 

I wasn’t particularly looking forward to dinner. The Russians had taken over the whole dining tent, and thankfully Regina and Juan-Pedro were there and saved me a seat. So the three of us squeezed into a corner of the table to eat. The other two left shortly after dinner, and I didn’t stay in the tent much longer either. Some people were coughing, and I felt too cramped in the corner, as if I couldn’t get enough air to breathe. I tried to decline the piece of cake they offered me—unsuccessfully—so out of politeness, I ate two or three spoonfuls and then slipped off to my tent. There, I read a little more and hoped for a calmer day tomorrow. 

 Tuesday, April 22 – EBC

 The night was quiet once again, although I woke up two or three times as people were still heading to bed late in the evening. It seemed like the dining tent had been occupied longer than usual. I headed over a bit earlier than normal this morning to make sure I could get a seat at the table with Regina and Juan-Pedro. They were already there, having their breakfast. They were leaving us for 3–4 days to climb Lobuche East. I'm curious to see what these days will be like without them—they’ve always been great listeners and conversational partners, and we share a similar sense of humor. I hope their outing will be worth it and that they’ll return well-acclimatized and happy. 

After saying goodbye to them, I went back to my tent to enjoy a bit of peace and quiet. The trekking Russians also left after breakfast, so by around 10 a.m., the dining tent had quieted down again. As I sat there, Dipen from the kitchen crew let me know that another large group would be arriving for lunch today—this time, 14 Indians. I got my lunch a little earlier again, so I was already in the middle of eating when the Indian group stormed into the tent. Within moments, I was surrounded by them, as the whole group wanted to sit together at one table, even though the other table was half empty. So I picked up my lunch and switched tables so they could have their wish granted. 

I followed the same strategy as yesterday—after lunch, I disappeared into the coffee tent, where I once again had top-notch company with the usual suspects for the entire afternoon. This time, Nelly Attar joined us as well—she’s known on social media, among other things, for her mountain clean-up campaigns. 

Right at 6 p.m., we parted ways again—I was hoping dinner would be a bit less chaotic this time. I sat from the start at the table with the Russians to make sure the Indians would have enough space. But as soon as I’d eaten, I made my way to the Seven Summit Treks camp. Most of my coffee tent friends were staying there, and they’d invited me many times to come over if things got too boring, cramped, or noisy on my side. 

Just ten minutes later, I was sitting in a warm tent full of funny and open people. They were still in the middle of their dinner, but were happy to see me. I ended up staying almost two hours, during which I analyzed photos from Paul, Bianca’s father, of his Everest summits in 2006 and 2007. It gave me a great overview of parts of the route I hadn’t seen in pictures before. It was also interesting to hear about his experiences and what he focused on during his second climb. 

We even started planning a joint acclimatization hike to Pumori High Camp for tomorrow—but that plan was crushed half an hour later when the Base Camp Manager gave a briefing announcing Seven Summit’s schedule for tomorrow: glacier training in the morning and oxygen training in the afternoon. 

Around 9:30 p.m., I made my way back to our camp, quickly filled my bottles with hot water in the dining tent, and then slipped into my sleeping bag. 

 Wednesday, April 23 – Pumori High Camp

 Today was another acclimatization day. Since Chirring and Gyalzen set off towards Camp 2 last night, I was going to be out on my own today. It was almost funny how motherly the two of them were yesterday when I told them I’d be fine going solo. They told me exactly what to pack (the same stuff I’ve been packing for the past three weeks), that I should apply sunscreen in the morning, and not hike too fast—as if I’d never been out on my own back home. But it shows me how much they care about making sure I’m well-prepared, and also that they trust me at least a little. I promised them I’d check in as soon as I got back and take good care of myself, especially on the way down. 

So after breakfast, I set out just before 9 a.m. toward the lower end of EBC. That part takes about 20 minutes. The famous EBC rock marks the start of base camp, and no matter what time of day you pass by, someone’s always posing in front of, on, or around it. After about half an hour, I was already on the ridge that lines the edge of the glacier, ready for the steep climb toward High Camp. I took the path I remembered, but clearly veered a bit off course near some rocks. I ended up in a scree field and had to fight my way through it slowly and carefully—big rocks, small rocks, slippery rocks, solid rocks, gravel, scree, and dirt—I worked my way in the right direction. I knew I’d reconnect with the path at some point, and after 40 minutes, I saw a small group climbing just above me. Less than five minutes later, I was back on the trail. 

I decided to follow that group to make sure I didn’t lose the path again. That worked well—they were hiking just a bit faster than the pace I’d set for myself. I was walking at a rhythm where I could easily recite "Om mani padme om" in sync with my steps. When the group took a break, I continued on alone, since the path was still clearly visible. About 20 meters below the first platform of High Camp, I took a wrong turn again and had to scramble a bit. But since the slope wasn’t steep and the rocks were solid, it wasn’t a problem. 

Beyond the platform, I could see another faint trail heading further up, so I continued another 50 meters of elevation until I found a good spot to sit in the shelter of the wind. I spent a good hour there enjoying the view. I’d also brought the two Theos with me today, so they had to pose for a few photos too. There were two other groups there—I took some group shots for them, and they returned the favor by taking pictures of me. 

After just under 70 minutes, I packed everything up and started heading back. The path was easier to follow on the way down, and I always had a group in sight to help guide me, just in case. Only 30 minutes after setting off, I was already back on the side ridge along the glacier. My legs felt great both on the way up and down. I did get a bit more out of breath than expected while scrambling, but that’s probably because I moved a bit faster than I’d planned. 

Since I knew my tentmate from Aconcagua, Rebekka, had arrived at EBC yesterday, I didn’t want to miss the chance to visit her at her camp. She’s with Furtenbach, whose camp is near the lower end. Around 12:30 p.m., I walked into their dining tent and saw her surprised face. I was immediately offered a drink and invited to stay for lunch, but I’d promised my kitchen crew I’d eat with them, so I politely declined. Still, I really enjoyed the 40-minute visit—we caught up on small things. Hopefully, we’ll find more time to talk properly. Last time we saw each other was in Salzburg, when I spontaneously visited her for 24 hours in October while she was on vacation there. Mitch happened to be there too, having been invited to lunch by the company heads. 

When the group was called for their Puja ceremony, I set off again and walked the last 20 minutes back to my camp. I went straight to the dining tent so they’d know I made it back safely. Then I changed quickly so I could be somewhat clean for lunch. Unfortunately, I already had a bit of a headache, so I had to force myself to eat. It took me almost an hour to get through half the salad, and another 20 minutes for the small fruit plate for dessert. I drank a few cups of tea, but none of it helped get rid of the headache. 

For the first time since being here, I spent the second half of the afternoon in my sleeping bag, dozing a bit. I took a pill to ease the headache, but it didn’t fully work, so I still felt a bit drained by the time dinner came around. Even then, I couldn’t eat everything and went straight back to bed after brushing my teeth. I read for a bit, but with the headache, I just didn’t feel all that great. 

 Thursday, April 24 – EBC – Puja at Seven Summit Treks 

After going to bed with a headache last night, I had a rather restless night. Unlike usual, I had to get up twice during the night to pee. I saw headlamps in the Icefall each time, but they were moving much more slowly than on the nights when the Sherpas were out. I also had to take a second pill in order to get at least some sleep. When I woke up this morning, there was still a dull throbbing. I assume it’s coming from my neck, as the pillow is unfortunately too high, so my neck muscles can’t really relax. We’ll see if it improves over the next few days or not. 

In any case, I got up on time for breakfast and ate the vegetable omelette with Tibetan bread. Afterwards, I read a little, briefly talked with one of the Russian women, Anastasiia, who is unfortunately a bit sick, and then decided to do a bit of laundry again. Just like for the past week, the weather is wonderfully sunny, though very windy. That didn’t bother me—I still washed and hung up a few shirts, pants, and buffs. Nathi even gave me some clothespins so the clothes wouldn’t blow away. 

Then I headed over to the Seven Summit Treks camp, where the Puja ceremony was taking place today. I was able to watch the whole thing from the outside, which was actually quite nice for a change. Still, it felt strange that all my friends were being blessed, and I had to imagine experiencing the same ceremony tomorrow with almost complete strangers. People put rice flour on their faces, congratulate and hug each other, etc. All things I would have loved to be part of today—but could only watch from the sidelines. 

I hope tomorrow will feel warmer and more heartfelt than I’m imagining it now. Ideally, Regina and Juan-Pedro will also be back tomorrow, so at least I’ll have two familiar faces around. I didn’t feel like I belonged, even though—aside from not participating—there wasn’t really a reason for that. After the blessing, everyone stood in small groups, took photos, laughed, filmed videos, and I was just a passive observer. 

At least I finally got to thank Kristin Harila today for what she’s doing for us women in mountaineering. She’s one of the reasons I had the courage to finally take on Everest. I had reached out to her 2–3 times over the past three years, and she always responded thoughtfully. Being able to finally thank her in person for how important she’s been to me and my project makes me incredibly happy. Of course, it didn’t happen without tears this time either. I have no idea what it is about Everest that does this to me. I’m just so happy and proud, and I almost can’t express it without tears. Especially when I think that the 28 years I’ve been waiting for this have now been condensed into just one month. 

When all the blessed climbers gathered for a group photo, that was my cue to head back to my tent. I cuddled with the Theos and let out the rest of my tears. Then I checked on my almost-dry laundry and made my way to the dining tent, where lunch will be served in about half an hour. 

Friday, April 25 – EBC – Puja 

Yesterday's lunch was, surprisingly, a burger – maybe with a bit too much cheese, but otherwise quite good. Afterwards, I went to my tent to tidy up my clothes and enjoy a bit of time to myself. Then I headed to the dining tent to finish writing the blog. To upload it, I moved a bit closer to the router – aka the coffee tent – where I tried to get something done over two hot chocolates. Unfortunately, the upload didn’t go as planned, so I enlisted my sister as a blog assistant. 

Just as I was about to leave the coffee tent, Mitch and Stan showed up. So I treated myself to a third cup of hot chocolate and had a nice chat with them about the Puja, the schedule, and more. It’s always interesting talking with those two. Stan only stays in EBC part-time – his base is three hours away at the Italian Pyramid. He spends most of his time editing Mitch’s YouTube videos and Instagram content so that everything gets finished on time. To be honest, I haven’t watched any of the YouTube videos yet, but I’ll catch up after the expedition. I think the two of them are looking forward to the "after" just as much as I am. 

I already find the expedition mentally exhausting, but I don’t have to think about paying employees, producing content, writing press releases, etc., and I’m honestly glad about that. Here in EBC, I can pretty much live day by day. I wouldn’t even have to write this blog if I didn’t want to – I could just read, sleep, hydrate, and wait until I get to climb. I think I’ve only posted on Instagram three times in the last four weeks, and only because everyone around me was posting, and I could mostly copy their content. Even after Manaslu, I didn’t really feel like posting anything on social media – somehow it just doesn’t feel that important to me. 

Anyway, the conversation with those two really did me good, and finally, I started to feel some excitement about my Puja. 

I can’t really remember what we had for dinner – probably Veggie Sizzler, since we’ve had that three times already. After that, I went straight to bed to be ready for the Puja today. 

The Puja took place shortly after breakfast. I was one of the first ones there and managed to get a great seat – even with a rock for back support, just in case. But first, I had to get my gear and place it at the shrine. Two days ago, Furtenbach said that we should bring anything that would touch the mountain. I always bring everything that gives me a sense of safety on the mountain: boots, crampons, harness, and helmet. Since I was one of the first again, my gear was placed right by the shrine – I take that as a good omen. Then I sat down and read a little until everyone else was ready. 

For the Pujas, a Lama always comes with an assistant. The Lama chants (or rather, sings) prayers, while the assistant occasionally beats a small drum, and the Lama also clashes cymbal-like instruments. The purpose of the Puja is to ask for a "safe passage" – meaning a safe ascent and descent. Prayers are chanted for all the mountains surrounding Everest, as well as for Everest itself. Rice and/or rice powder is thrown into the air during the ceremony. 

We listeners were given some black tea from time to time to stay hydrated, and I was grateful to be wearing both a hat and a buff – it was quite windy and sunny. 

At the end of the Puja, everyone received a yellow string bracelet and a khata scarf around their neck. The yellow string should not be removed, as it offers protection. The khata also symbolizes protection but can be taken off later. I've hung all the khatas I’ve received so far in my tent and will take them home, like everyone else. Anyone who’s visited my place in the last three years will probably remember the white scarves hanging everywhere. 

Since I once again want to hang prayer flags on the summit, I had bought a few in Kathmandu that now needed to be blessed. Pengboche would have been a good time for that, but I had packed the prayer flags in my climbing duffle, which went missing for a while during the trek. So now, Chirring asked the Lama if he could bless the flags – which he did without hesitation. 

We also took a few group photos so we could remember this day. Afterward, I went into the dining tent, as it was quite windy outside. After the meal, Chirring, Gyalzen, and I were going to sit down together and work out a new schedule – so I’d have a better sense of what’s planned and wouldn’t get too caught up in negative thoughts just because everyone else is heading out on their rotations before me, even though I was the first one in base camp. 

The Sherpas’ suggestion was to do a dry run in the Icefall tomorrow. This means going up about halfway and then coming back down. In Chirring's words, it was: 3 hours up, 1 hour down. My suggestion was to start the rotation so that we would be ready for the summit after 5 days on the mountain, once the fixing team had finished their work. 

I didn’t really like the Sherpa suggestion, because, firstly, I didn’t want to spend too many unnecessary hours in the Icefall, and secondly, I finally wanted to start my rotation. I also feared that if I waited any longer, I would be in the Icefall with too many other people, which would bring long waiting times, cold, and risks. I also asked Phunuru what he thought of the plan. Unfortunately, he had no internet and couldn’t give me an answer. It was also hard to get a somewhat reliable weather report because the Wi-Fi was, once again, very slow. It’s one of those moments where you have to make a decision, and only later (maybe) will you find out if you made the right or wrong choice. 

I have two guiding principles that I want to stick to here on Everest: I want to attempt the summit during the first weather window, and I want to make sure that all three of us have at least 3 rest days before that. I want to use the first weather window because, based on experience, there aren’t as many people on the mountain yet since they’re not ready. The three rest days for all of us should be clear to everyone – we need to be well-rested when we make our double attempt, including Chirring and Gyalzen, since they play such a big role in our safety on the mountain. 

Our discussion after dinner wasn’t too long, because the two of them didn’t want to be swayed from their plan, and I wasn’t born to be the boss, so I didn’t want to force my suggestion on them. I was still torn between “spend as little time as possible in the Icefall” and “just trust the Sherpas,” but I didn’t want to make the decision alone. So, we agreed that we would all think about the options some more, I would try to get a weather report, and we would discuss it again at dinner. 

Afterwards, I went once again to the coffee tent, where I met the usual suspects. I also had a brief chat with Paul, who has a lot of Everest experience. He said that he also did a dry run back in the day and actually found it quite useful. Still, the general consensus was that everyone would rather start the rotation than do a dry run. To me, the reason for the dry run wasn’t clear, not even after the meeting with Chirring and Gyalzen in the afternoon. It felt unnecessary, and because I didn’t understand it, the plan bothered me even more after the conversations. 

Once again, Stan helped me avoid getting stuck in negative thoughts. He was able to explain to me rationally that it’s not a big deal if I don’t start the rotation like everyone else. There is still plenty of time, and he’s confident that, no matter which option we choose, I will still have a real shot at the summit. I also got distracted from my thoughts when we had an interesting conversation with Kristin about her numerous expeditions. She is waiting for her helicopter permit in China to finally find the Sherpa who was swept away by an avalanche on Shishapangma on my birthday in 2023. 

For those who don’t know Kristin Harila: She broke the speed record for climbing all 14 8000-meter peaks. It only took her 92 days to achieve this. In 2022, she made her first attempt and stood on 13 out of 14 peaks. Unfortunately, she was denied permission by China to climb Shishapangma, so her attempt failed, and Nimsdai remained the record holder. Nimsdai is the Nepali climber behind the amazing Netflix film (and book) 14 Peaks. She told us yesterday that the moment she got the “no” from China, she knew she would make another attempt in 2023. That year, she shuffled the order of her climbs and actually got permission from China for Shishapangma and Cho Oyu in the spring. Both peaks are climbed from China, although Cho Oyu can theoretically also be climbed from Nepal, which is extremely difficult (Gelje from AGA Adventures managed to achieve this last year after the route had been abandoned for a long time – just google it). 

Back to Kristin: Once she had the permits, she climbed all 14 peaks in those 92 days, always with her Sherpa Lama by her side. They were celebrated worldwide for this, and now it was clear to everyone that Lama is the best Sherpa around. While Kristin was chasing the record, two American women were in a race to become the first American women to climb all 14 8000-meter peaks. Their names were Anna and Gina-Marie, and both had already summited 13 peaks, only missing Shishapangma. They both received permits, and Gina-Marie wanted the best Sherpa by her side. So, Lama, even though he didn’t have to, went to China once more to help her succeed. 

Shishapangma is already a dangerous mountain in the spring, but in the autumn, it’s even more dangerous due to its steep slopes, which are perfect for avalanches. On my 39th birthday, the mountain had had enough and buried both Gina-Marie’s team and Anna Gutu’s team with her Sherpa. All four died, though Anna and her Sherpa were found and brought home last year. Gina-Marie and Lama are still somewhere on the mountain, and Kristin has made it her goal to bring his body back. I think she will only find peace with her life once she has accomplished this. She takes great care of Lama’s family, especially his two sons; she was trekking with the younger one, who is now back in Kathmandu in school. 

These coffee tent conversations are the heart of this expedition and, for me, and I think for many others as well, they are very important. The great community comes together here, and everyone is in the same boat. Everyone I have spoken to so far is extremely open. It doesn’t matter whether you’ve climbed one 8000-meter peak or already 27. It doesn’t matter whether you’re here "just" for the trek or for the triple crown (Everest, Lhotse, Nuptse). You sit together at the table, listen to each other, and the depth of the conversations comes very quickly. I’ve mentioned before that it was very important for me to thank Kristin for her extraordinary achievement. I feel deeply sorry that such a negative impact has affected her life. Positive and negative are so closely intertwined, and I’m certainly not the only one hoping that Kristin will soon get the permit and find Lama’s body this spring. 

As I walked back to my dining tent in thought, a nice dinner was waiting for me, which helped me feel a bit more positive. I wasn’t able to find a weather report, but I did manage to get a wind report from our camp doctor. After dinner, Chirring and Gyalzen returned, and together we discussed the wind report in front of our tent. After a few minutes, a Sherpa came around the corner with a radio and told them something. Apparently, an avalanche from Nuptse had hit the route between Camp 1 and Camp 2, causing the route to be temporarily interrupted. This was a reason for my Sherpas to stick with the dry run. I accepted this decision, and we agreed that we would leave at 6 am. They also informed me about what I would need to pack, mainly warm clothing, as it would be very windy tomorrow, and we didn’t know how many people we would encounter in the Icefall. 

I immediately went to the tent to pack my things and then lay down in bed, planning to have breakfast at 5 am so that I wouldn’t end up in the same situation as during the training, when the food couldn’t decide whether to come up or down. Just before going to sleep, I wanted to quickly check my messages and Instagram. There, I saw that, apparently, a part of the route in the Icefall had collapsed in the past few hours. All those who had planned to start their rotation at night canceled their plans and stayed in the EBC. I lay in bed and had to admit to myself that I should really trust Chirring and Gyalzen’s suggestions 100%. Because their suggestion for the dry run now seemed perfect, since we wouldn’t have been able to go any further anyway. I took this as a sign from Everest, showing me that I have very capable Sherpas and that I should trust myself as well. I’ve already verbally told many people that since my first visit to the Khumbu Valley in 2017, I’ve felt a connection to my dream mountain. Once again, I felt that connection right now, lying in my sleeping bag in the EBC, and I made a resolution to trust Everest, that it would give me my chance. 

 Saturday, April 26 – Dry Run in the Icefall

 It felt strange to be woken up by an alarm again today. For the past 2–3 weeks, I had always woken up early enough on my own since I was also going to bed early. But now the clock said 4:30 a.m. I stayed in my warm sleeping bag for another 10 minutes until I felt mentally ready to crawl out. I had already put my clothes into the sleeping bag the night before, so I could get dressed inside the bag. Then I checked once more that everything I needed was in my backpack: I packed my down pants, my thick down jacket, thick gloves, and hand warmers—after all, I didn’t want to have to turn back because of cold fingers. My thermos bottles also went into the backpack, along with sunscreen, etc. 

At 5 a.m., I headed to the kitchen tent. Dipen had told me yesterday to just stop by the kitchen tent, and someone would make me black tea. I had planned to eat just cornflakes so they wouldn’t have to cook too much so early in the morning. Unfortunately, the kitchen tent was still closed and deserted at 5 a.m. So I sat in the cold dining tent and ate my cornflakes. Without tea, it was a pretty dry experience, but there wasn’t much I could do about it. At 5:10, I heard the stove light up in the kitchen tent and realized I’d just been overly Swiss about being on time at exactly 5 a.m. 

So I went down and was warmly greeted by Nathi. He made me two cups of tea and would’ve even cooked something for me if I had let him. After that, I went to my tent to put on my big boots. It only takes about five minutes down here, but I always have to focus to make sure there are no folds in my socks or thermals—otherwise, I risk blisters. I also tried taping my usual problem spot on my lower leg. Note to self: tape doesn’t stick to human skin in subzero temperatures. Once I was ready, I made one more stop at the pee tent—because let’s be honest, you don’t want to die in the Icefall with your pants down just because you couldn’t outrun a chunk of ice 😉. 

Lastly, I put on my climbing harness so I wouldn’t have to do it in the cold of the Icefall. Chirring and Gyalzen were ready as well, and after another hot cup of tea, we first headed to our Puja shrine, circled it once clockwise, and then took a fairly direct route down to the glacier. It took us about 30 minutes to reach the Crampon Point, which was different from the one we visited about two weeks ago. The first part of the route mostly leads over flat glacier ice and rocks, so it’s easy to walk the first 30 minutes without crampons. 

Then came the final bathroom break before putting on crampons and getting into the real thing. Interestingly, we still had another 30 minutes of mostly rock, although it was steeper and sometimes covered in meltwater. Surprisingly, the crampons actually gave great traction. Just before the first vertical section, we encountered the only people coming in the opposite direction—a Westerner and his Sherpa. That was also the Crampon Point for the Icefall Doctors. We figured this out when six of them showed up, getting ready to enter the Icefall to repair the collapsed section. 

We, meanwhile, headed to the base of the first vertical section to use our ascenders for the first time. I tried to stick to the rhythm that worked for me on Manaslu: step, breathe in and out deeply twice, step, breathe deeply twice, and so on. It takes longer to get to the top that way, but I never get out of breath and can focus on technique. Chirring was ahead of me, Gyalzen behind. The Sherpa version of this section is a little different: wait for a gap, then take 5–6 fast steps, wait again, repeat. It feels more like intervals, which is why I don’t do it that way. I also think it’s nicer for anyone waiting below to see steady progress rather than someone standing still for five minutes catching their breath. 

Now we were really in the Icefall—ascending, descending, clipping in and out—and I tried to focus on the route. Chirring would wait for me at each anchor to hold the rope I needed to clip into next. On ascents, I felt like I got out of breath quickly, but after a 10-second pause, I always recovered fast. We had to jump over a small crevasse and passed a spot that made me nervous—narrow icy steps that looked like they wouldn’t hold my weight. But since Chirring, who’s a bit heavier, went ahead, I tried to trust the steps. I’m pretty sure they’ll be gone next time—they were that thin. 

After an unknown amount of time—somewhere between 30 minutes and 15 hours—we reached an open area that looked like an avalanche cone. Above the Icefall on the right is a glacier section that regularly breaks off, and the route passes through its debris. Luckily, it’s fairly flat there, so we passed through in under a minute. Still, I asked which direction to run in case something came down at the wrong time. Despite the visible dangers, I felt totally comfortable and didn’t perceive the Icefall as threatening. The path was wide, I saw plenty of passing spots, and there were no threatening seracs in sight. So we continued. 

We crossed three ladders, all (in my opinion) used correctly: in vertical sections, usually to enter steep ice walls followed by another 10-meter climb. All of these had small steps to clearly place your feet and 2–3 ropes for rappelling even if someone was climbing up. One ladder section looked like a potential bottleneck, though, as the rappel ropes met the ascent path. Curious to see if I’ll get stuck there someday. At least there's a decently safe waiting area, though probably very cold. 

About two hours in, Chirring and Gyalzen suddenly seemed a bit nervous. I asked if this was a spot where we should move faster—they nodded. So I “ran” behind Chirring. "Ran" is an exaggeration—I just walked at my normal pace from home. Anything faster isn’t possible at this altitude anyway. After a few minutes, I needed a break, which thankfully I was given. We ducked under and between seracs, went up and down again, then climbed onto a cornice. Now we were really in the heart of the Icefall—and I was still enjoying it. 

Shortly after, the route split into two: the old and the new path. We followed the new one, but a large, stable-looking ice chunk dropped a meter when Chirring stepped on it. That made my brain go into overdrive—it really looked solid. Chirring hesitated, clearly trusting the old route more. So he crossed about five meters of ice blocks, secured only to his climbing harness. I was relieved when we could clip into the rope again. We took our first real break there—before that, we only had a couple of short water or breathing pauses. 

Chirring said we’d go another 10–15 minutes and then turn back. Exactly 10 minutes later, we reached the point where part of the route had collapsed during the night. We stood at the end of the fixed rope and saw an Icefall Doctor about 100 meters ahead. It looked like they were trying to repair the route from above. For us, it meant turning back after exactly 2 hours and 26 minutes. My watch showed 5,694 meters—roughly 400 meters above base camp. According to Gyalzen, we were halfway to Camp 1. Based on the altitude reading, that seems about right. Distance-wise, I’m not so sure. But since I didn’t feel tired, I’m confident I could make it to Camp 1 at that pace—whenever the time comes. 

As we turned back on the narrow ridge, I noticed a huge hole on the right—the collapsed route. But the left side didn’t have much snow either. I realized we were standing on a not-very-stable, undercut cornice. That made me pick up the pace for at least the first five minutes. Going mostly downhill now, we moved much faster. Gyalzen was now ahead, Chirring behind. Unfortunately, Gyalzen was 1% less gentlemanly than Chirring, so I often had to bend down to grab and clip the rope myself. 

We retraced our route toward Crampon Point. On the vertical sections we ascended with ascenders earlier, we now rappelled down. So we were back at the Crampon Point after only 50 minutes, took off crampons and harnesses, and hiked the last stretch over rock—which is tricky in crampons. I had to stay super focused, as getting injured now would just be dumb. I was relieved to remove the crampons and walk the rest without them. Still downhill and requiring attention, but easier. I was back in my tent shortly after 10 a.m., where I changed into my base camp clothes. It had warmed up quite a bit on the way back, and I try to avoid sweating if I can. 

I stayed in the tent a bit, prepped a laundry bag, put everything back in its place, set my boots outside to dry in the sun, and messaged Raphael to let him know I was back. I think he was the only one who knew about my dry run—so no one else had any Once I connected to the Wi-Fi, I finally received a response from Phunuru to the question I had asked him yesterday. So I decided to give him a call. The connection was perfect, which allowed us to talk for almost half an hour about the best plan for the next three weeks. The goal now, assuming a good weather forecast, is to start our rotation on Monday, April 28, and spend five nights in the Western Cwm. That way, we should have at least three rest days before we go on our summit rotation. It would also give Chirring and Gyalzen enough time to bring the oxygen bottles to the right locations and get enough rest afterward. 

During the call, I munched on a few things from my still massive snack stash and then headed to the dining tent for lunch. I was lucky—it was Italian pasta, and under the incredulous eyes of the kitchen crew, I asked for seconds. After all, I had only had a single bowl of cornflakes for breakfast, and recovery works best with carbs. 

Although I was a bit tired from getting up so early, I didn’t want to nap. So I finished reading my book and then, once again, made my way to the coffee tent. I think by now this routine is no surprise to anyone 😊 

In the coffee tent, I chatted a bit with Bianca and Mitch, and just as I was about to leave, Gabi came in. I took another half hour to catch up with her—to hear how her research was going and what she’d been up to the last few days. I hadn’t seen her since Wednesday or so. Since she was the first person I met here at EBC, I’m always especially happy when we get to see each other again. reason 

 Sunday, April 27 – EBC

 Today was another rest day, which means no alarm clock. As usual, I lay awake in my sleeping bag for half an hour to 45 minutes before changing clothes inside it and finally peeling myself out. Breakfast is always at the same time, 8 a.m., but not everyone manages to be on time every day. About two weeks ago, I started ordering a thermos of black tea, which now reliably shows up five minutes after I arrive at the table. That way, I can ensure I drink enough, since the thermos holds three liters of black tea. I usually manage to finish it by the time lunch is over, and then I don’t drink quite as much in the afternoon. Especially in the evening, I try to limit myself to two cups with dinner so that I don’t have to get up at night to pee. So far, that’s been working well—I’ve only had to get up twice at night, and I’ve been on the road for almost a month now. 

After breakfast, I headed to the kitchen tent again to ask for hot water to wash up. I’ve made it a habit to do a bit of laundry on sunny rest days. Not because it’s absolutely necessary, but because it gives me the feeling that I’m doing at least something useful while just sitting around. This time it was my pajama thermals’ turn—a thin pair of long merino underwear and a thin merino sweater, which I’ve worn every night since the first day of the trek. I also washed a set of underwear and a buff. People still smile at me when they see me washing in front of the kitchen tent, but since it’s more about the act than actual cleanliness, I still don’t try too hard while washing 😉. Then I packed my few things and hung them in the sun by my tent. Last time, Nathi gave me some clothespins, which I of course used again today—even though it was quite windless. 

Afterward, I turned to my laptop since I finally wanted to update the blog. Unfortunately, the battery only lasted about 1.5 hours, so I spent the rest of the time until lunch playing games on my phone. Even after lunch, that remained my main activity since I finished my seventh book yesterday and felt I needed a short reading break. I’m assuming I’ll have enough reading time during the upcoming rotation. I definitely haven’t regretted buying the Tolino two years ago—not for a second on these expeditions. 

As the afternoon went on, more and more clouds rolled in, and I even heard some distant thunder. It looks like the bad weather that was forecast is on its way. I already saw the first snowflakes falling outside, which I took as a sign to check on my laundry. Surprisingly, it was almost dry. Only the top was still a little damp, so I hung it in the tent roof, where the sun had warmed things up nicely. The rest I packed back into the designated bags, which serve as my improvised wardrobe. There’s one bag for tops, one for thick thermals, one for underwear, one for socks, and one for used socks. Then there’s an entertainment bag and three full snack bags, and by now I’m starting to wonder when I’m actually going to eat all that. Back home, it seemed like far too little. But here, the tables in the dining tent are full of food—you could practically eat 24/7 and there’d still be plenty left for others. 

Back in the dining tent, I decided there was still enough time to do one of the puzzles I brought. So I cleared a corner of the table and started on a unicorn puzzle with lots of dark colors and sparkles. I got it last summer from Raphael’s sister Daniela, and while the image isn’t exactly my favorite, I had the time so I left the timer off for once and fought my way through the pieces on the uneven tablecloth. During the 1.5 hours of puzzling, I also chatted a bit with Dipen about his goals and future. He’s doing an excellent job here, and at 26 years old, he still has many dreams he wants to chase. He came to base camp a few weeks ago with his father, uncle, and a friend of his father. The other three work for the same company but in a different kitchen tent (the Chinese kitchen). 

Two weeks ago, however, the father’s friend had a heart attack and was flown by helicopter to Kathmandu. Sadly, he didn’t survive, so the three others also flew to Kathmandu to attend the funeral. We didn’t hear anything about this while we were just sitting out our rest days. Dipen seems happy to have some family nearby, but he’s also looking forward to returning to Kathmandu and focusing on his future. He wants to travel the world and start by getting his trekking guide certification, which involves 26 days of theory in Kathmandu and another two weeks of fieldwork. His English is very good—much better than most of the kitchen crew’s—and I’m convinced he won’t be working in a kitchen for many more seasons. I really hope he achieves his goals soon. He’s a daily highlight, and I’m grateful I get to enjoy the fruits of his labor here. 

After finishing the puzzle, I headed over to the coffee tent for a hot chocolate. Unfortunately, there was no one I knew there this time, so I didn’t stay long. It was also quite full again, which increases the risk of catching something—more so than when the tent is empty. On the way back to the dining tent, I made a detour to my tent to start getting ready for the night once again: putting on thermals, packing toothbrush, toothpaste, and headlamp, emptying water bottles if needed, and bringing them along. 

In the dining tent, I had a good connection and was able to call Raphael for a bit, since the school holidays ended today and I wanted to know how things were going at home with the five little ones. I also finally managed to charge my laptop, since electricity only becomes available after 6 p.m., when the generators are turned on. For dinner, I had rice and vegetables, which I dutifully finished (empty plate no. 21?!). 

After that, I brushed my teeth, packed my seven things—including the bottles filled with hot water—and headed back to my tent. Since the Wi-Fi was still working great, I was able to call and wish my sister a happy birthday and chat with Seraina a bit too. But by 9 p.m., it was lights out—I didn’t want to be late for breakfast again. My final ritual before sleeping: put in my earplugs, slip on the eye mask, take off my down jacket and the layer underneath, and snuggle into the sleeping bag. 

Monday, April 28 – EBC

 According to the plan, today should be my last rest day before the rotation. I’m curious to see if everything will go according to plan. During the night, we got 10 cm of fresh snow, but it stayed fairly calm with little wind. I woke up right on time and heard the snow sliding off the tent roofs at irregular intervals. It took a few of these mini roof avalanches before I realized they weren’t real avalanches. As usual, I woke up too early and took advantage of the Wi-Fi. 

After that, I followed my evening routine—just in reverse: take off the thermals in the sleeping bag and put on my pants, then put on the sweater and down jacket, slip out of the sleeping bag, brush my hair, put on my hat and sunglasses, and head outside. On the way to the dining tent, I pass the pee tent, which of course I don't skip, and soon I’m sitting in the dining tent. That’s where I still am now—laptop plugged in, ready to send the blog to my sister. I also used the time to transfer the photos from my phone to the laptop, so at least the first batch is safely backed up. 

I assume Chirring and Gyalzen will show up sometime in the afternoon so we can pack everything we need for the rotation together. In the meantime, I’ve already prepared a small pharmacy bag and thought about what clothes I’ll need. 

Monday, April 28 – EBC - Part II

 I’m now back from my rotation and I don’t want to miss the opportunity to take you along with me for those three intense days. But first, let me tell you about the afternoon of last Monday. 

As expected, around 3 p.m., Chirring and Gyalzen showed up at my tent so we could go through what would be coming up the mountain with us and what wouldn’t. I had already done a pre-selection to keep things from taking too long. My previous expeditions definitely came in handy here, as I already knew about 99% of what I needed to pack. I was unsure about the extra clothing, since it gets even colder in the higher camps. Up there, you’re even less motivated to change clothes than you are here at EBC. Still, it can get very hot in the Western Cwm, and in that case you at least want to be able to take off sweaty clothes to let them dry. I also packed a big bag full of potential snacks, in case I didn’t like the food in the camps. I already don’t eat much at home, let alone on the mountain. But if you’re sitting in a tent all day because it’s too cold to go outside, a few snacks can be a welcome distraction from the boredom. 

The essentials included things like my air mattress, sleeping bag, and down suit—plus, for me, several pairs of socks, depending on whether we’d be in cold or hot weather while wearing the triple boots. I also packed my e-book reader, the Theos, and SPF 100 sunscreen. Once we had agreed on everything, Chirring and Gyalzen packed up what was already ready and put it in their backpacks. I went to the coffee tent one last time for a hot chocolate, but unfortunately didn’t run into anyone I knew. It seemed like everyone was already up on the mountain. The hot chocolate was still delicious, and the calm before the storm did me some good. I don’t remember what we had for dinner, but in any case, I tried—as always—to eat at least half of it. After that, I stayed in the dining tent until my phone was fully charged, and then I went to bed. Wake-up was at 1 a.m. for me—we wanted to head out at 2 a.m. the next day, and before that I needed to eat something to keep everyone happy. 

 Tuesday, April 29 – EBC to Camp 1 

I didn’t have much trouble falling asleep after dinner. Everything was ready, and I was so ready to finally move up to the higher camps. So, after the alarm went off, I got dressed, turned on my headlamp, and went to the dining tent, where, according to the plan, 3 liters of tea would be waiting for me. 

When I opened the zipper, I couldn’t quite believe what I was seeing: contrary to all the weather forecasts I had checked, there was 7 cm of fresh snow outside the tent. It was also windier than I had expected. My mind couldn’t quite process it, and as I peed, I wondered whether the snow would be a problem. The attempt to spot other headlamps in the Icefall was unsuccessful. 

In the dining tent, the promised thermoses were there, so I treated myself to a cup of black tea with cornflakes. I didn’t feel like having more at the moment. When a kitchen Sherpa came in, he asked me if I was going up today. As if I’d just casually be sitting in the dining tent at 1:20 a.m. eating cornflakes for fun. He said his brother was also going up today and that it would be dangerous. I only half-listened because I had good Wi-Fi and wanted to update my WhatsApp status. I forgot it was still evening back home, so I quickly answered a few messages. Chirring and Gyalzen soon appeared as well and also had some tea. 

I went back to the tent to put on my boots and grab my packed backpack. Lastly, I filled my two water bottles with hot water and added a bit of flavor. At 2:20 a.m., we were ready to set off—which here means first circling the Puja shrine once more to ask for a safe passage. 

In the snowfall, we made our way toward the glacier and from there to the Crampon Point. This time it took five minutes longer—we had a long way ahead of us and didn’t need to rush. In the distant Icefall, I could at least now see a few headlamps, which reassured me that we weren’t the only ones out despite the fresh snow and ongoing snowfall. 

At Crampon Point, we had one last pee break, and just as we were putting on our crampons, five Sherpas appeared from the Icefall. They were on their way back to Base Camp, and I didn’t find out what their five-minute discussion with Chirring and Gyalzen was about. Honestly, I didn’t want to ask too much—like whether it was a dumb idea to be heading up now. I simply thought: they’ve just come down through the entire Icefall, and going down in snow is usually harder than going up. So it should be fine for us to climb today. 

And so we began our way along the now familiar route. The ropes were clearly visible, and the sections where we’d had to walk on bare rock last time were now much easier to traverse on snow. I kept glancing back to see if anyone was following us, but I never saw any other headlamps. 

Chirring led us stoically from anchor to anchor, while swirling snow still whipped around our faces. I wasn’t sure if my chin was frozen—I kept having to pull down my buff for a few seconds to breathe properly, and it was damp from my breath. For a while, I fixated on the question: can a chin actually freeze? I couldn’t really come up with an answer. 

The beam of my headlamp, though, stayed focused on the path, which remained clearly visible the whole time. At first, we passed 2–3 Sherpas coming down, who didn’t say much and descended purposefully. 

After just under 3 hours, we reached the spot where we had turned back last time. Now, a new rope clearly pointed into the unknown. I told Chirring and Gyalzen that we could turn back if it seemed too dangerous. After all, I still didn’t see a single other headlamp either above or below us—we were completely alone in an Icefall that, in theory, should have been teeming with people. The two just gave a brief “no” and asked if my fingers were still warm enough. 

Every half hour, we took a short break to drink, or if I needed to change my gloves, we’d stop briefly as well. But since it was windy—and quickly got cold—we tried to keep moving as steadily as possible. I tackled the uphill sections slowly but steadily. On flat stretches or descents, I moved at a reasonably normal pace. 

I noticed the towering seracs beside me but didn’t give them too much attention. They’re there whether you like it or not, and you can’t really tell by looking at them whether they’re dangerous or not. In any case, they were beautiful. Every time I wanted to take a photo, I asked the two guys if it was okay, and most of the time they nodded—they knew it would only take a moment before I was ready to continue. 

The route mostly led uphill, sometimes down again, across snow bridges and crevasses. Occasionally, there was a ladder, but often the only option was to jump over the crevasse. Still, I never felt total panic. The big jumps did take courage, but the higher I climbed, the less I was willing to let a glacier crevasse dictate when I should stop. One huge jump I only dared to make after Chirring counted me down—and even then, only because he said I’d probably slide forward on my stomach (which, thankfully, didn’t happen). 

The long ladder I had seen on social media, stretching horizontally across a crevasse, was gone—it was now leaned steeply against a wall, so you could simply climb it like at home. That’s much easier for me than the horizontal ones where you also have to look down—right into the crevasse—to figure out where to place your boots. 

There were also spots where you stood on a ridge, saw the ropes to the left that you were supposed to climb, but the fixed ropes led off to the right. These little detours that add more vertical meters are always a mental challenge. Still, the longer you’re on the move, the more you notice how you’re climbing higher and higher through the Icefall. 

From Base Camp, the route looks like a giant question mark. You start off to the right, then curve left around a rock formation, and ascend again on the right side. From there, it zigzags toward the left, and you exit the actual Icefall roughly in the upper third. At that point, all that stands between you and Camp 1 are countless glacier crevasses—some to be jumped over, others crossed like sand dunes: up and down, up and down. 

I only realized this when I was standing on one of these “sand dunes” and spotted a lone tent behind a ridge. I thought, “That must be Camp 1,” and sure enough, ten minutes later we arrived at the tent. The camp itself was visible just ahead, seemingly only five minutes away. But in between were six steep dunes—each one only becoming visible once you’d climbed the previous (and supposedly final) one. 

It took a full 35 minutes before we finally stood in the camp. I know the Icefall dictates the route, but honestly, no one needs six of these “little bastard hills” after already spending six hours in the Icefall. 

Well then, we reached Camp 1 after 6.5 hours, and the first thing I did was head into the small dining tent, where hot tea was being served. I drank a cup and chatted with my friends whom I had been missing back at Base Camp. By the way, the tent was very similar to Camp 1 at Manaslu: in the middle, a table had been carved out of snow and ice, and around it, a seating platform also made of snow and ice. 

The others had all come up the day before, and aside from Bianca and Paul, everyone was getting ready to move on, since they were heading to Camp 2 that day. Bianca had had to empty her stomach shortly before starting out yesterday, and apparently Paul caught the bug either on the way through the Icefall or once in Camp 1. He slowed down more and more throughout the Icefall, and in the end it took them almost 10 hours to reach Camp 1. He spent most of his time lying in the tent. Bianca, on the other hand, was a bit bored, since Camp 1 is really used mainly as a stopover, and no one stays there longer than one night unless forced to by health issues. 

We used the time to keep each other entertained and watched the others pack their gear and slowly head off toward Camp 2. From the dining tent, you could see the first part of the route quite well, and it looked relatively flat and pleasant. Also, it’s only a 400-meter climb to Camp 2, crossing directly through the Western Cwm. 

After a while, I went looking for my backpack and asked Gyalzen. He and Chirring had meanwhile shoveled out a large platform with other Sherpas and pitched tents on it. They had already prepared one of those tents for me—meaning they had inflated my air mattress, laid out my sleeping bag, and placed my clothes bag and down suit ready for use. My backpack was already inside the tent too, so all I had to do was flop down inside. I hadn’t expected that kind of service and am really grateful to both of them for this “princess service.” 

So I lay down in my tent, changed clothes, and before long it got quite hot inside. The sun was shining, and the platform had been strategically placed in a relatively wind-sheltered spot. So there I was, barefoot and just wearing thermals and a T-shirt in my tent, trying to eat snacks regularly and empty my water bottles. Meanwhile, Chirring and Gyalzen started digging a new toilet that would be a bit better hidden than the one we’d had so far. 

From the dining tent, you had a clear view of everything—nothing could be hidden, no matter how hard you tried. You did have to accept a bit of an elevation gain to get to the new toilet, but the risk of being seen—or having your bare backside spotted—was a hundred times lower. 

In the afternoon, I also practiced my summit puzzle a few times while wearing gloves, only to find out how difficult it actually is. And I wasn’t even using the thick gloves, just my very thin ones. We’ll see if this whole puzzling-on-the-summit-of-Everest idea works out. At the moment, it doesn’t seem all that feasible to me. 

For dinner, I was served a large portion of plain white rice, and I tried to eat as much of it as I could with the help of Aromat seasoning. The problem is that by the time the rice reaches me, it’s usually already quite cold, mushy, and flavorless. The Aromat helps only a little to make it somewhat edible. Luckily, I’d already eaten enough nuts, so—even though I felt a bit guilty—I could leave half of it uneaten without worry. 

Once the sun disappeared behind the mountains, it got very cold very quickly, and I put on every piece of useful clothing I had. I only left the tent to pee, and during those moments I enjoyed the view of the Western Cwm and the surrounding mountains for a few minutes. I read until it got dark and then tried to sleep. Unfortunately, I had only put on thin socks for sleeping, so I got pretty cold during the night. I woke up often, and every time I changed positions, my sleeping bag would slip off the air mattress. It took quite a bit of effort each time to find a decent and somewhat warm sleeping position again. Plus, the night feels endlessly long when you’ve already been lying in your sleeping bag since 5 p.m. 😉 

Wednesday, April 30th – Camp 1 to Camp 2 

I didn’t exactly wake up exhausted on Wednesday, but I certainly didn’t feel as great as I usually do in Basecamp. The hot Nalgene bottles had already cooled down to body temperature, and no matter how I turned, the sleeping bag was cold somewhere. I distracted myself by fiddling around on my phone. Unfortunately, my bladder also forced me out of the tent, and since we wanted to leave fairly early anyway, I didn’t torture myself too much. I slipped into my clothes inside the sleeping bag and got up. Since I still had to pack everything inside the tent, I just slipped into the outer shoes of my boots and went to pee. It gets light here very early, even though the sun hides behind the mountains, which helps you wake up early. After peeing, I packed everything that belonged in my backpack, put the sleeping bag into its stuff sack, and folded the air mattress so it would fit into its sack. Everything that Chirring and Gyalzen had already carried to Camp 1, I laid out in the tent, and the rest was already packed in my backpack. Finally, I put on my boots, this time with the inner shoes already snugly laced up for the way to Camp 2. Afterward, I took my backpack outside and went to the dining tent. Bianca and Paul were already sitting there, and they would also be heading to Camp 2 today. I got a bowl of a few cornflakes and drank half a liter of black tea. Chirring and Gyalzen still had to eat breakfast and pack their backpacks, so I didn’t need to rush. Bianca and Paul, meanwhile, had already finished their breakfast and were in the process of putting on their climbing harnesses and crampons. Everything here takes a little more time, and since you know that, you’re usually already putting on these important tools before the planned departure time. The goal for Bianca’s group and for us was to cover as much of the route as possible before the sun would shine into the Cwm. It’s known that the Cwm turns into an oven within minutes, and you get roasted like a chicken while making your way to Camp 2. In such situations, I feel drained and lose all my energy, another reason for me to wear fewer warm clothes today, so I wouldn’t sweat too much. As a result, I froze a little while sitting on the snow in the dining tent, shoveling my few spoonfuls of cornflakes into me. 

Bianca and Paul left the camp about half to three-quarters of an hour before me, and while I was waiting, I just continued drinking black tea. The more I drank now, the better I would handle the altitude change. When my guys were ready, we could finally get going, and a glance at the clock told me it was only 8 a.m. The path gradually climbs to the right, passing Camp 1 and heading toward the end of the valley. Often, there is no rope to guide you, especially if there’s too much snow. However, flags from the fixing team guide the way through the Cwm. It first winds along the right side of the mountain and then slowly changes sides, because Camp 2 is located on the left side of the mountain, or more precisely, directly below the summit of Everest on the left side. Although you’re walking on the glacier the whole way, you encounter very few crevasses. You simply cross 2-3 smaller ones, and the 2-3 large ones are secured with fixed ropes and cross wider snow bridges. After about 50 minutes, we suddenly find ourselves in front of a 10-meter vertical wall. I’ve seen such scenes in various videos, but it was still a bit unexpected. The passage over this serac was secured with various ropes, so you didn’t have to wait too long. The Sherpas with large, heavy backpacks attached them to the ropes and scrambled up without their backpacks, while other Sherpas helped to pull the load up from above. I noticed Paul in the upper third of the vertical section, while Bianca was just getting ready to move upwards. I thought it would make a great video and wanted to take out my phone, which I had just used for a photo. But Bianca was so fast that I didn’t even have a second to film. I have no idea how out of breath she was at the top because moving quickly at this altitude is almost impossible for regular people like us, and she was really, really fast at getting to the top. I took a little more time for myself. When I face vertical sections, I always try to clip in quickly and then climb at a steady pace. In the middle, I usually take a short break to catch my breath, and then continue for the second half. I always try to ignore the fact that people may be waiting for me down below, because rushing really doesn’t help. It would just make me more out of breath and I would need an even longer break on the wall. When I finally reach the top, I’m so out of breath that I’m always relieved when Chirring takes the Jumar off me. 

I had always clipped the safety line myself until now, even though it seemed almost impossible to do so in those few seconds. Above the vertical section, there was a large area where everyone could stop to catch their breath. I was glad when Gyalzen said we would take a short break here. It also seemed that the area at Crampon Point was designated for the Sherpas. Above that area, I saw almost no more porters with crampons, and everywhere on the plateau, there were piles of climbing harnesses and crampons scattered around. After our break, we continued along the route, and shortly afterward, we overtook Bianca and Paul, who was still not fully recovered. He needed quite a few breaks, and his pace was very slow. We were also incredibly lucky with the weather. By now, more than an hour had passed, and the Western Cwm was overcast, so the sun couldn’t roast us. It was the perfect temperature to walk without a down jacket, but not too hot to start sweating. Still, the clouds were high enough that we could enjoy a little view of the mountains. We could also see the tents of Camp 2 in the distance from time to time, and they didn’t seem very far away. The path now led diagonally toward the left side of the Cwm, and it was sometimes almost flat and sometimes a little steeper. Paul said he could remember from his last ascent that there was a very long hill leading directly to Camp 2. For me, it did feel like a long hill, but it wasn’t as steep as I had expected. After about 2.5 hours, we reached the lower end of Camp 2. As always on Everest, 14peaks had set up the highest and almost last camp. This meant I still had to walk another 40 minutes before reaching our camp. But first, we made one last stop, where we also took off our crampons, as the path led over stones, and it was easier to manage without crampons. I actually thought I could make the way in 30 minutes, but it was steeper than it had seemed from below, and our camp was not even visible from the bottom. I thought we would be sharing a camp with Seven Summit Treks, like we did at Camp 1, so I aimed for their dining tent. However, Chirring kept telling me several times to just keep going, and eventually, I got a little frustrated because I couldn’t find the damn tent. I took the last 10 minutes in intervals, stopping a hundred times to search for the tent, which of course took more time. When I finally spotted it in my field of vision, it was only a few minutes away, and I was relieved that we had arrived. Although it was the shortest day of the rotation, as we arrived exactly after 3 hours, I still felt almost as tired as the day before when we were on the move for 6.5 hours. The last hill was just too long for my brain 😊 It seems like both the first day with the 6 waves and the second day with the final hill each end with a "pain-in-the-ass part." 

Since it was just before 11:30 AM, Chirring and Gyalzen sent me back to the dining tent, where I drank more black tea and had a bar. They took care of my tent again, and an hour later, the "princess service" was ready for me once more. I continued drinking my black tea outside and thought that I might quickly go down to the Seven Summit Treks Camp to chat with Bianca and Paul. That's when I saw Mitch with his Sherpa Gjelze and Kristin, who were just meeting, so I walked over to them. Kristin was on her way to the Lhotse Face to explore how much snow had accumulated there. Mitch and Gjelze were coming back from their acclimatization there and were heading down. Mitch had been struggling with hoarseness for several weeks, and now his voice was almost gone, and his throat was sore. They had decided that they would take the whole journey back to base camp today to give Mitch the recovery he deserved. They might even continue descending to speed up his recovery. Kristin asked me if I wanted to join them, but since I had just arrived an hour ago, I had to unfortunately decline. Let's see if I ever get the chance to hike a mountain with Kristin in my life… I said goodbye to the three of them and walked back to my camp. There, I asked Chirring if it was okay for me to quickly stop by Bianca and Paul to check if they were doing okay. They allowed me 30 minutes since lunch was about to be served. I walked the 2 minutes down that had taken me almost 10 minutes just 2 hours ago and arrived just in time to hug Bianca as she arrived. Paul followed a few meters behind her, looking even more tired than he had when I passed them on the glacier. Since they were both relieved to have arrived and I knew from experience that one isn’t very chatty in that moment, I left them to settle in and returned to my camp. I set myself up in my tent and stayed there for a few hours. I tried to nap a little, played on my phone, and continued reading my book, as it was still cloudy outside, and it had started snowing again. At 4:30 PM, the weather outside looked much friendlier, and since I had to use the bathroom again anyway, I took it as an opportunity to crawl out of my sleeping bag and put on my down pants. In the sun, it was so pleasantly warm, and the view in front of me was so much better than just a few hours earlier. 

When the kitchen crew spotted me outside, they asked if I wanted some soup before dinner. I declined but asked if they could perhaps make a little popcorn for me. It didn’t take half an hour, and soon I had a basket of warm popcorn in my hands. Sitting outside in front of the Lhotse Face on a folding chair, munching on the popcorn, made up for all the years I had waited for this view. I think I sat there for over an hour, simply gazing at this magnificent ice wall, which I hope to eventually climb. The weather was good to us—the sun shone on the wall in all its glory. To my left stands Mount Everest, another steep rock face that I could also only admire. I had waited so long to see this mountain, and now I’m sitting right in front of it, unable to get enough of it. I have no idea what the kitchen crew thought when they saw me sitting there, much like in a movie theater when you’re watching a film and eating popcorn. Except my "movie" was a sheer rock wall and the icy Lhotse Face, and yet I am indescribably happy about it. 

I don’t know how you all feel reading this, but this sight is still beyond my comprehension (and this is four days later). I was actually sitting right in front of Everest. Right in front of it, literally and truly. In a straight line, the summit is probably still vertically 2.5 kilometers away from me. What a difference from the more than 6000 kilometers and 28 years I’ve waited to be this close to my mountain of destiny. Far away now is the frustration of the last hill to get to the end of Camp 2, which I was still carrying with me this morning. 

I stayed outside until the sun lost its strength behind the advancing veil of clouds, and I started to feel a little cold. I told the kitchen crew that I wouldn’t need dinner anymore, apart from the popcorn. They looked a bit disappointed because they had already cooked something for the three Chinese guys in the dining tent. But when I had to go inside briefly to get toilet paper, the smell almost made me nauseous, and I was very glad to get back outside quickly. After peeing, my tent was the best place to wait out the night. I learned from the first night in the Cwm and put on my warm socks for the night. I also asked Chirring to fill my warming bottles only after their dinner, so I might have some warmth to last longer through the night. Since the three of us felt great, we decided before heading to our tents that we would cancel the rest day for tomorrow and make an attempt to reach Camp 3. We planned to have breakfast at 7 a.m. and leave at 8 a.m. 

Thursday, May 1 – Camp 2 – Touch Camp 3 

My alarm went off at 6:45 am, since this time I didn’t have to pack up my tent again. I had already packed the important things the evening before, so in the morning I didn’t have to make too many unnecessary movements in the cold. After peeing, I took my backpack out of the tent into the dining tent and first put on my thick boots. Then I went into the kitchen tent, where I was warmly welcomed and immediately handed a cup of tea. The crew also wanted to know if I wanted noodle soup for breakfast. Just the thought of it made it hard for me to continue drinking my tea. However, since I couldn’t leave the tent without eating, busy hands stretched a package of cookies toward my face. I saw the packaging and knew they were chocolate cookies, so I bravely took one. In the morning, eating is always especially difficult for me because I usually don’t eat at home until around noon. That means the challenge is greatest in the morning. The chocolate cookies were a good thing, and I managed to eat 5 of them over the next half hour, along with about 4 cups of tea. Meanwhile, Chirring and Gyalzen also showed up, but both complained of headaches. Since we weren’t in a hurry, I told them that, despite the different plan, we could take a rest day today. They had carried 25 kg each around for the past two days, so it was almost obvious to me that their bodies would welcome a break. But they said they were fine and just needed breakfast. I suggested that we would decide after breakfast whether we would rest or ascend to Camp 3. 

Now, I was able to witness firsthand in the kitchen tent the hustle and bustle as numerous people tried to melt useful water and get the stove running better. It seemed that one of the Nepali was responsible for cooking breakfast, but many hands also contributed. After about 20 minutes, noodles and soups were ladled into bowls and distributed to all the other Nepali. They slurped the contents of their bowls in seconds and went outside to clean them by hand. Once again, Chirring and Gyalzen refused the rest day, and we met outside to attach our crampons for our adventure. By now, two people were already on the route toward Camp 3, luckily breaking trail through the snow that had fallen during the night. At the beginning, there was still no rope set up, so we had to navigate using the flags. The trail initially wound quite flatly or with very little incline along the crevasses towards the Lhotse Face. We approached the two trailbreakers slowly but steadily, and the closer we got, the slower they seemed. When we were already in sight, I discovered that it was a Sherpa with his client on the short rope. 

The short rope is actually not necessary here, unless the guide wants the client to keep up with the pace to some extent. Behind us were about 10 other people, likely with the same plan as ours. After 1.5 hours, we had caught up with the two people ahead of us, and all that lay ahead was a new snowfield, partially interrupted by flags. I hesitated to let Chirring go into the fresh snow, as I knew we were still on a glacier and at any moment there could be a crevasse lurking somewhere. However, we had no other choice but to take the lead. Gyalzen reassured me that it would be fine, and I just had to trust that the fixing team had marked any crevasses along the route. So, I followed Chirring at a 5-meter distance, making my way up the increasingly steep hill towards the bergschrund. It took about half an hour before we reached the end of the hill, where a beautiful traverse appeared before us, secured by orange ropes in a glacier crevasse. First, you have to jumare up about 5 meters, then traverse another 5 meters, during which your feet have no real hold. That is, under all the snow, there is no clear place to place your feet, or at least a few spikes of your crampons. After that, you need to jumare up another 7 meters before you reach the base of the Lhotse Face. This spot will definitely be interesting when the mountain fills up, and even people with a bit less experience with the equipment will have to get through here. I already dread what kind of conflicts could arise if someone gets stuck, because the traverse is not easy, and below you, there is a wonderfully deep glacier crevasse. I had to control myself quite a bit, stopping 2-3 times to catch my breath before I could continue. But I did so with the full awareness that no one was waiting behind me. I have no idea how I will react if people are waiting behind me and others above me also want to descend. Then you’re stuck in the middle of the traverse, panicking, and can’t move anymore… We’ll see... 

But back to the present. Now I am at the foot of the Lhotse Face, and all I see are parts of orange ropes in the middle of an endless wall. Since we are the first ones, and there was some fresh snow in the past two days, the ropes were partially covered in snow. Additionally, the underlying ground was hidden under the deep snow, so you never knew if the next step would hold, if you would slip a bit, or if there was an ice plate beneath. Chirring, as usual, went ahead and stopped every 10 steps to give me time to follow him. Unfortunately, the steps he made were a bit too big for me. At times, I was reminded of Ama Dablam, but I never once thought about turning back. 

I absolutely wanted to get over 7000m today. Partly because I had never been above that limit without oxygen, and partly because I wanted to prove to Everest that I was taking my rotation seriously. And for me, Camp 3 was just part of that. The individual steps were exhausting, and the many breaks somehow also felt tiresome. Still, I was always glad when I could catch my breath for a minute. I looked up too often to see how much further it was, and even though I noticed the slow progress, I wondered how it would be during the summit rotation. On that rotation, I would have to ascend from Camp 2 to Camp 3 in one day, and then continue to Camp 4 the next. And that, even though Camp 3 isn't halfway up the Lhotse Face, meaning the second day would involve even more uphill climbing. But I tried to push those thoughts away and focus on the fact that I was on the Lhotse Face, just a heartbeat away from the summit, compared to where I had come from. I think if I had told the guys that I wanted to turn back, they would have let me, so it was in my hands how high I wanted to go. Somehow, the higher we got, the less I wanted to turn back, because then all the effort would have been almost in vain. Maybe that's what kept me going, and just below Camp 3, about 30 minutes below it, there was a small traverse where it wasn't just steeply uphill. From there on, it was 100% clear that we were going all the way to Camp 3, and I was relieved when we finally reached the spot where 14peaks had set up camp. Just above, there were the six tents that had been set up, but we didn't go those last 15 meters. A glance at the watch showed me that it had taken me 2 hours since the narrow spot at the foot of the Lhotse Face. So, we had been on the way for exactly 4 hours to reach Camp 3. Phunuru and Allan had predicted almost 4 weeks ago that I would be fit enough to make it to Camp 3 in four hours. The fact that it took me exactly that long, even though I felt so slow, really surprised me. I also didn't feel as tired as I had expected after the 2 hours in the fresh snow. Since the two guys were still suffering from headaches, we only had a quick drink and then prepared for the descent. In the meantime, the weather had turned and fresh snow started to fall. So, we put on an extra layer, and I had them explain to me again how to best handle the rappel device, so it wouldn’t accidentally fall off my harness. I had only used it once a few years ago, as I usually prefer the ATC. But since some ropes here are either too frozen or too thick for the ATC, we decided to use the rappel device on the mountain. I gladly accepted the tips from the two of them and began the first rappel. Ironically, it only took us about 30 minutes to descend to the foot of the face. The painstakingly gained altitude seemed to rush by, and since there weren't many anchors, we didn't have to unclip that often. Unfortunately, my harness was tightening around my stomach a bit, so I had to take a short break while rappelling. It felt as though I was about to vomit. But after a brief relief, I was fine again for a few minutes. On the way down, we crossed paths with a guide with Westerlin, who was using oxygen, and three Sherpas with large backpacks. 

When we arrived back at the traverse that had scared me during the ascent, I realized that you can't tell from above whether someone is stuck in the traverse or not. Calling out doesn't really work either, as the echo doesn't carry around the corner. So, you have to pull on the rope and hope that the traverse is clear before you clip in. Honestly, I'm not sure if there are many opportunities to re-anchor if you're rappelling down while someone else is ascending. I definitely don't look forward to passing this spot a second and third time. I just hope that there will be few people on the mountain and that we'll have some luck when descending from my two summits at this point. Once again, I took a deep breath and made it through the traverse, feeling relieved when we were finally past it. Below that spot, we met Kristin, who—once again alone—was on her way for a night in Camp 3. She asked us a bit about the condition of the face and whether anyone above her was still on the route. She knew that the three Sherpas were climbing with the goal of setting up a few tents and then returning to Camp 2. So, she would be spending the night up there all alone. I took the opportunity and finally asked her for a photo, as I want to remember for the next 10 years that I was at my dream mountain at the same time as a legend. She agreed, and I even offered her one of the Theos to keep her company in Camp 3, but she politely declined and instead took some mental unicorn power with her. We continued the rest of the way to Camp 2 and, just one hour after leaving Camp 3, we were back in our camp. The snowstorm had gotten a little stronger, so I immediately retreated to my tent. Chirring knew exactly what I needed, and 10 minutes later I was already stocked with black tea and popcorn. Once again, the weather behaved similarly to yesterday, and the later the day got, the more the sun appeared at the end of the Western Cwm. I couldn't resist sitting outside on the folding chair again today, just looking at the Lhotse Face. I know that after this expedition I’ll never come back here, and I want to soak up this entire environment so much that it almost hurts. 

The view is breathtaking, the upper part of Lhotse covered in snow. The rock face to my left is now mostly covered in snow as well, but you can still see the different rock layers beneath, flashing through. I’ve read about the geological structure of Everest a few times, but I still can’t remember it. I only know that the yellow band is named after the color of the rock, and that this band runs through the whole mountain and is visible from here as well. Of all the views of Everest, this one is my favorite so far, although I’m pretty sure I can’t see the summit from here. It looks somehow different, yet very similar to how it looks from the Khumbu Valley. Since it was getting cold outside and the sun was about to disappear behind the clouds again, I wanted to go back to my tent. However, Chirring suggested that I come to the kitchen tent instead, since it would be warmer there, and I hadn’t eaten anything yet. So, at 6 p.m., I ended up in the bustling kitchen tent. The Nepali didn’t quite understand why I was sitting there, even though it was a dining tent for us Westerners. But there were three Russian women sitting there, who were coughing a little—double the reason not to sit in there. I enjoyed the hour in the kitchen tent, as the view offered there is something not everyone gets to experience. The kitchen can be described, in the best way, as rudimentary. There are three gas canisters in the middle of the room, each with a large bowl of ice and/or water sitting on top. Then, as a room divider, there is a small table made from ice, with flat stones placed on it. This is where the head cook prepares the meals, but there are also various bowls with spices, etc. Next to it, a part is covered with a wooden board, on which thermoses are placed, filled with either milk tea, black tea, or hot water. The Sherpas are allowed to help themselves, and my cup was also refilled regularly. Since the kitchen crew kept trying to convince me to eat the Dal Baht that was cooked for the Nepali, but I wasn’t hungry at all, I eventually decided to ask for a bowl of cornflakes. They wouldn’t let me leave the tent without eating something, and even though the food smelled very good, I couldn’t bring myself to eat any of it. Even the few spoonfuls of cornflakes took a lot of effort and time. At around 7 p.m., I had my bottles filled with hot water, went to the bathroom again, and then snuggled into my sleeping bag for the last night in camp. I had arranged with the guys that we would leave at 5:30 a.m. the next morning to head straight back to Basecamp. So the night would be rather short, but that was perfectly fine with me. 

Friday, May 2 – Camp 2 to Base Camp 

I couldn’t sleep as well this night as I had in Base Camp, but I think I managed to get a few hours of sleep. Since I had to pack up everything in my tent again, I let myself be woken up by my alarm at 4:45 am. The first thing I did was go to the bathroom, and I took my backpack with me to the dining tent, where I had already packed everything possible. On the way, I ran into Kristin again. She hadn’t slept much during the night, but she felt good. Since she also planned to go to Base Camp today, she had left early from 7000m and had already been on her way for an hour. After a short chat, I went back to the tent to pack up my sleeping bag and air mattress into their travel size. I also left my large snack bag there. These three things would stay at Camp 2 because, during our summit rotation, we would go directly from EBC to Camp 2, and I wouldn’t need them in EBC. 

In the meantime, Chirring had shown up and invited me into the kitchen tent again. There were thermoses with hot beverages ready, and once again, I woke up with black tea. With even less hunger than yesterday, I managed to eat only 2 cookies this time, but I drank 2-3 cups of tea. Honestly, I don’t know if Chirring and Gyalzen ate anything for breakfast; there was nothing prepared for them, but I saw Chirring nibbling on a chocolate cookie while I put on my climbing harness. This time, Gyalzen was responsible for packing up and securing my sleeping bag and other things. 

I assume he put everything into a rice sack labeled for us and placed it next to the oxygen bottles that had already been carried up for me, beside the dining tent. We didn't put on our crampons yet, because we wanted to walk down the first steep hill to the lower Camp 2 without them. Right on time at 5:30 am, we set off. We set quite a fast pace, but after just a few minutes, we were overtaken by a few Sherpas who seemed to be sprinting down the hill. However, I wanted to be careful with my steps, as an injury at this point would be even more unfortunate than in the last few months. Once we reached the lower end of the camp, the rocks were no longer in the way, and we were able to continue at a similar pace to the Sherpas in front of us. Finally, I was back in my hiking rhythm, and it felt amazing to feel that way without being too out of breath. The atmosphere in the Western Cwm was also unique. We crossed only Sherpas, the air was crystal clear, and the sky was that typical Nepalese blue. The view of Pumori and the others was spectacular, and the valley seemed to radiate a stillness that I hadn’t noticed on the way up two days ago. I had to stop several times to capture the scene with my iPhone, but I doubt I could really preserve the atmosphere that way. I definitely enjoyed every single second we spent in this small high plateau. Almost 30 minutes after setting off, we stood on the platform above the vertical crevasse, and we put on our crampons. The vertical section wasn’t very crowded, so we were able to rappel down and continue on our way in peace. Another 25 minutes later, we had already arrived at Camp 1. Gyalzen asked me if I needed a break, but I felt good and was slowly craving Base Camp again, so I was fine with continuing. We let a group of Sherpas, who were also accompanied by Kristin, go ahead. They set a brutal pace, and since I remembered the wonderfully steep 6 waves waiting for us at the beginning, we were happy to let them pass. I took the waves very slowly because, even though I had spent a few minutes at 7000m, we were still at 6066m, and breathing up here is just harder. After the waves, I was able to enjoy the path much more. At first, we crossed only a few Sherpas, and after about 100 meters of ascent, we encountered our first little delay. I knew that I probably wouldn’t have the luck to have a completely empty Icefall in front of me again, but seeing about 25-30 people was still somehow unexpected. The spot was just a short ladder that needed to be crossed, a typical one-way section. Fortunately, there was a nice Sherpa below the ladder who recognized Chirring, and he let us go ahead. Probably, Chirring had told him while waiting that I wasn’t too clumsy and that the wait would be short. In any case, we were already on the ladder after maybe 6 minutes of waiting, and then passed all the waiting people to continue our descent. The overtaking was smooth because it was a wide section. Just a few minutes later, it wouldn’t have been that easy anymore.
 We encountered another small group at the first technical spot below the ladder. We let two Sherpas pass, then rappelled into a crevasse and climbed up the other side. When we were at the bottom of the crevasse, a few Indian Army personnel were already rappelling at our climbing spot, so we had to wait briefly there as well. Since new Indians were already ready at the top to rappel down, we didn’t waste time and climbed ahead of them. I didn’t want to make them wait too long, so I picked up the pace, but of course, I regretted it halfway through; however, I couldn’t stop at that point. Once we reached the top, I took a 5-minute breather. 

These two short delays were, however, the only events on the way back that showed that some people still want to climb Everest this year. We continued to cross paths with individuals, but always at well-visible and safe spots, allowing us to descend at our own pace. After 2.5 hours, we reached the Crampon Point again. The last 20 minutes were really warm, and I had to take off layers twice to avoid sweating. We had made it out of the Icefall before the sun hit it, which is a major safety factor and also made me a bit proud, as we were almost down in Sherpa time. We took off our crampons and continued toward Base Camp. The sun was already shining strongly here, so I quickly started to feel hot. Since we were so close to the goal, I didn’t want to change again, and I couldn’t get my hot feet out of the boots until we reached the tent. So, I endured the last 15 minutes, trying desperately not to think about the fact that next time I would walk through here in the opposite direction, hopefully with 2 summits in hand, satisfied but very tired. Almost unbelievable for me, but still a goal that is irresistibly approaching. I took the last steep meters into camp very slowly, and at the entrance, I thanked Chirring and Gyalzen. I then continued to the Puja shrine to thank for the successful rotation and then made my way to the tent. On the way, I ran into Jo, who asked me a bit about the mountain. She couldn’t wait to finally go through the Icefall, and it was planned for her to depart that night. I went back to my tent and could finally, finally take off the shoes in which my feet had been cooking. After that, I changed, sat down on my bed in the tent, and delivered the good news to my family that I was safely back. I enjoyed the quiet of the hour and spent the entire morning in my tent. I read the news, answered text messages, ate some snacks, or just sat there, happy with how well everything had been going in the last few days. At 12:30, I went to the kitchen tent to inform the crew that I was back. I also wanted to ask if they could make fries with fried eggs for me. Then I sat in the dining tent and drank tea until the food came. Unfortunately, they hadn’t quite understood me, so the requested meal didn’t arrive. Since I now really had to eat as much as I could, I asked again for fries with fried eggs, which I then got with a little delay. In the afternoon, I mostly sat in the dining tent to answer the many messages and go through my photos. I actually wanted to shower as well, but since the weather changed in the afternoon, I decided to skip it. For dinner, I wanted the same again, but once again, it didn’t work out. I did get fried eggs, but with spaghetti and two fried potatoes. Luckily, I was able to pass on the spaghetti, and after eating, I clarified with the kitchen crew that, from now on, I would like fries with fried eggs. After dinner, I read a little in my book, then went to bed soon because the last few nights had really worn me out. 

Saturday, May 3 – EBC 

I had a wonderful sleep that night and woke up at 6 am as usual in Base Camp. I then enjoyed the warmth of my sleeping bag and played around a bit on my phone. By 8 am, I was already in the dining tent, where I learned that others had pushed breakfast time back by half an hour. It would have been nice to know that earlier, but I used the time to read some more. After breakfast, it was still wonderfully sunny and windless, so I took advantage of the moment and enjoyed the shower I had planned yesterday. The air was almost not cold, and it was the best shower experience I had so far in Base Camp. I almost had to laugh when I realized that this was only my fourth shower since I left Kathmandu, and it had already been five weeks. Afterward, I finally took out my laptop and began writing about my experiences from the rotation. Since I was being quite thorough, time passed quickly, and before I knew it, the laptop battery was already dead. Less than 15 minutes later, it was lunchtime, so it didn’t bother me much. In the afternoon, I mostly played on my phone or chatted a bit with Dr. Berus or Alfredo, who oversee the medical care for Seven Summit Trek and 14Peaks. I also took advantage of the good Wi-Fi to have another video call with Raphael. We had a one-hour video call without interruption, so I now know what our five Schnüsis (a term of endearment) and he look like. He seems to be enjoying his time without his girlfriend at home, and I’m really happy about that. Even though I’m also looking forward to being back home, and for life to continue normally. 

By now, the kitchen crew had understood that I wanted to eat the same thing at every meal, so at 6:30 pm, after the hot towel before dinner, a plate with 2 fried eggs and fries arrived. The hot towel will especially be familiar to the regular readers of the Manaslu blog. Right before dinner, Pasang always appears with a pan, where a hot washcloth waits for everyone. It’s soaked with a little eucalyptus, making it a perfect warm refreshment before going to bed. The towel is too hot at first, and every day I try to catch the perfect moment to bury my face in it and let the heat sink into my body before it cools down. Shortly after this ritual, dinner appears, along with a small bowl of fruit.
 Today, I wanted to finish my book, so I stayed a little longer in the dining tent after dinner. But when everyone else had disappeared, I made my way back to my tent because Dipen’s instruction is always to work until the dining tent is empty. I didn’t want to drag it out artificially, because once the Russians were back, the evenings would become endless, and I wanted to give Dipen early evenings until then.So I read a little more in my tent until I got too tired. 

Sunday, May 4 – EBC 

Today is already my second rest day since my rotation. Yesterday afternoon, Gyalzen came by to warn me that we wouldn’t be going on our summit rotation before May 12. The fixing team had gone to Base Camp for two days of rest, and bad weather was forecast for May 5–6. They had set off again this morning for Camp 2, but there’s a lot of fresh snow above Camp 3, and no one knows how long it will take until they’ve made their way up to the South Col. Val, who wants to summit Everest this year without oxygen, also left this morning, because once the South Col is fixed, he wants to spend at least one night up there. For me, this means I can prepare for at least 9 more rest days, and I don’t know exactly how I want to spend that time. On one hand, I think the Base Camp is good enough to stay here, but on the other hand, recovery would probably go better further down in the valley. For me, it only makes sense to leave Base Camp if I get a significant improvement out of it. Going just to Dingboche or Namche would be a small improvement compared to the effort it would take to make that move. I’d prefer to fly to Kathmandu by helicopter, sleep well there, have a pizza every day, treat myself to a massage, and then fly back after five days. Apart from the fact that it goes against the principles I set before the expedition to fly to Kathmandu, it’s also environmentally and financially ridiculous. Still, all the benefits are tempting, especially when I hear this morning that Bianca and Paul flew to Kathmandu yesterday because Paul is still sick. I admit, that makes me quite jealous, and my cravings and longings grew strongly after hearing that.I also now know that a flight to KTM costs around 1000 USD, so a 5-day "trip" to KTM would cost me about 2500 USD when you include the hotel, etc. Even though I could probably afford it with the currently ridiculously low exchange rate, it’s simply too much for me. So, I have to prepare myself to stay here in EBC for the next 7–9 days. I’m curious to see how well I manage that, especially now that I’ve updated most of the blog and already enjoyed my shower. I still have laundry that I can wash once the weather gets better. Right now, it’s very cloudy and cold. Then, I have 3 puzzles to work on, an idea for a creative project, and with the good Wi-Fi, I can also order more puzzles anytime 😊 Now I just need to find the motivation for all of it. Today, I moved to the coffee tent to write the blog, where I drank a hot chocolate almost every hour. That’s how time passed after lunch, and now I’m sitting in our dining tent, trying to use the time after dinner to send out the blog. 

 Thursday, May 8th

 This morning I tried something new. I woke up just before 6 a.m., as usual, and knew I’d have to pee within the next two hours. So I got out of my sleeping bag right away, went to the toilet, and then crawled back into the warmth. As a result, I didn’t have any real reason to get up—apart from breakfast—and almost came too late. I made it to my seat right at 8:30 a.m. We’ll see which morning routine I go with in the next few days. After breakfast—fried eggs with toast and fruit, once again—I just sat in the dining tent and fiddled with my phone. Since it got warm quite early today in our dining tent, I packed my things and sat down on the artificial grass in front of the coffee tent. Next to me sat Walle, a 74-year-old Romanian who lives in the US. He was being interviewed by Everest One because, if he summits successfully, he’ll become the oldest Romanian to stand on Everest. 

He had tried once before, ten years ago, but had to turn back due to a severe cough. Though he gave his lungs a few days of rest down in the valley, it didn’t help much and he had to give up. This time, to conserve his strength, he acclimatized in Chile and then flew into Base Camp via helicopter. He plans to summit without doing a traditional rotation. I wish him all the luck in the world, but I’m not entirely convinced he’s fit enough for what lies ahead. His guide Victor, from Peru, was at Annapurna before this and came straight to Everest already acclimatized. He takes great care of Walle and has a huge heart in general. We’ll see how far this unlikely duo gets 😊 They spend almost every afternoon playing chess against each other. 

I used the sunny time to listen to Walle and to compare my pre-expedition travel plan to reality. I probably wouldn’t make time for that at home, but here, I’ve got plenty of time. When it got too windy, I moved back into the warmer dining tent. You can feel how strong the sun is—it really heats up the air in the tent. After lunch, I went back to the coffee tent to read a bit, since my laptop dies after 10 minutes. At 4 p.m., a few of “my” people came and we played cards for almost two hours. This time, Ben and Andrej were back, and new additions Mukesh and Ahmed joined. 

Let me give you a quick intro to those four (since you don’t have much else to read but Base Camp stories 😊). Mukesh is 16, with a Japanese mother and a Nepali father who just happens to own a helicopter company. So if Mukesh gets bored or needs supplies, he’s got his own personal heli-taxi to take him anywhere in the Khumbu with a helipad. He just returned from Lukla yesterday and prefers chess over cards. Ahmed is from Pakistan but lives in London and is a lawyer. He and his wife already climbed an 8000er together, and she has soloed two more. Now it’s his turn to climb Everest, a year after his wife. He’s a great addition to our group and just got back from a rotation this morning, which he had to cut short at Camp 1 due to sunstroke. Now he has to rest and do a proper rotation again. He’s super smart and incredibly funny. 

Andrej is a Russian I met at Manaslu. He’s here with his wife—both mountain guides—and a client from Kyrgyzstan. Maybe some of you remember the traffic jam between Camp 2 and Camp 1 at Manaslu, where I got stuck. Andrej was right in front of me with his client and sweetened the wait with music, which I still appreciate. It’s always great to see him and Darya again, and if I ever make it to Mt. Elbrus, he’ll definitely be my go-to. Unexpectedly, he interviewed me two days ago—he’s planning to make a short documentary about the Everest expedition. His Instagram photos are already amazing, and I can’t wait to see the final product. 

Last but not least, there’s Ben—who, as I just learned yesterday, is an English submarine engineer. You should’ve seen our faces when we realized a Russian and an English submarine designer were sitting at the same table 😊 Only an Everest waiting period could write stories like that. Ben is usually in the coffee tent every day, and we often sit in silence, each writing in our journals. Like me, he’s pretty fed up with just sitting around. He misses his 2-year-old daughter terribly and said today that he plans to book his return flight to Manchester for May 18. As soon as he can, he’ll go up the mountain, and once he’s back, he’ll take a heli straight to Kathmandu. 

He flew from Manchester to Nepal on April 12 and could hardly believe it when I told him I arrived on March 31 and have been in Base Camp since April 11. That makes me think I’m actually holding up pretty well, considering I’ve already been in BC for a month. I hope Ben’s plan works out and I hope to be back in Base Camp on May 18 as well. My plan is not to fly out, but to trek—at least then the waiting would be over. Unless I get stuck in Lukla, worst-case scenario. In that case, I’d probably splurge on a heli to KTM, if they’re flying. I already know I don’t have the patience for another long wait in Lukla. That definitely won’t change in the next two weeks. 

But back to our fun little group. We’re all (except Ahmed, who just returned) eager to finally begin our summit rotation and distract ourselves with card games. Thankfully, it’s not a complicated game, so we can chat as we play. 

Around 6 p.m., we wrap it up—everyone has dinner at 6:30 and doesn’t want to be late. At lunch, I asked for spaghetti with tomato sauce for dinner, and sure enough, after the usual hot towels, spaghetti appeared on my plate. The tomato sauce was unfortunately very spicy, but Nathi smartly served it on the side so I could control the amount. I even went back for seconds, by which time most of the sunlight had disappeared. For dessert, I had a mini banana, which I topped with my Dutch hagelslag, creating a Nepali chocolate banana. 

While eating, I saw on Instagram that the fixing team had reached the summit of Lhotse—apparently, Everest summit is expected tomorrow. That would be the official go-ahead for all those waiting. I’m still waiting, though, for Chirring and Gyalzen to return from the mountain. They’re still up there, and I don’t know when they’ll come back. Until they do, there’s no green light for me. 

After that bit of excitement, I crawled into my sleeping bag and read until 9 p.m. During the night, I was woken 2-3 times by large groups walking past my tent. It seems that the crowds are now starting to head toward the mountain, while I still sleep the righteous sleep down here at Base Camp. 

This morning, as always, I woke up just before 6 a.m., got up briefly to pee, and went back to my sleeping bag. There, I read the news about the new pope, the latest on the Eurovision Song Contest (which starts in Basel in a few days), and about the possible overlap between FCB’s championship celebration and the ESC. I’m kind of proud that I had the foresight back in March to pack my FCB shirt for a summit photo. How funny would it be to be standing on the summit of Mt. Everest while FCB wins the championship for the first time in years?! We’ll see what stories Everest has in store for me. 

It’s already 10 a.m. again—I’ve spent another good hour writing this blog. Now I’ll email it off so you can read it soon 😊 

Saturday, May 10

 This morning I woke up even earlier than usual because an annoying drone was circling above base camp at 5 a.m. It’s the second day in a row I’ve been woken up by that irritating, persistent noise. I understand that people want to get great footage in good weather, but honestly, that could be done three hours later — the blue sky usually lasts until noon. But no, 5 a.m. is apparently much better... Even the earplugs I wear at night are useless against it. Once the noise finally stopped, I still couldn’t fall back asleep — I might be heading up the mountain tomorrow. That thought made me panic a bit in my sleeping bag, but I was able to calm myself somewhat by continuing to read my book. 

After breakfast, I waited until it warmed up a bit and then enjoyed what will hopefully be my last shower at base camp. This time, unfortunately, the water was only lukewarm — last time, it was almost too hot. Still, I was able to somewhat enjoy the shower, or at least as much as you can when you have to crouch down because of gravity to get enough water pressure out of the hand-held shower head, which you also have to squeeze with your thumb to keep water flowing. The floor is uneven, your feet slide around in slick rubber sandals, and every time you want to soap up, you have to shove the shower head into the sack and hope the air is warm enough not to freeze. Even though I brush my hair twice a day, I still lose a lot of it, and with such low water pressure, the hair just sticks to your body because it won’t wash off. Plus, you never know how much water is left in the sack, so you’re always worried you’ll end up standing there with shampoo in your hair and no water left, freezing. Luckily, before Aconcagua I found some solid shampoo and conditioner on sale, which work pretty well here. So at least I don’t have to worry about running out of shampoo. Still, it doesn’t replace a proper shower, and I really hope that was my last one at base camp. 

As usual, after showering I went straight to the dining tent and sat there until my hair was nearly dry. When the sun shines, it gets warm in the tent fairly quickly — often unbearably so by lunchtime, even in a t-shirt — but for drying hair, it’s perfect. There’s always a slight breeze outside, and getting sick right now, so close to the summit attempt, would be incredibly dumb. 

Because there’s a good chance I’ll begin my summit rotation tonight, I spent the next two hours going through all my gear again. I taped my legs in advance and double-checked my medical kit. Then I restocked my snack bag and added a few extra things — just in case I somehow suddenly develop an appetite during the climb. Just as I finished, Gyalzen showed up and asked if I had my oxygen mask yet. When I said no, he asked me to come with him. We went to an SST tent where an open box held several masks. Chirring was sitting outside. Apparently, they only had one small-sized mask left — and it had such a short hose that it would be hard to move around with the oxygen bottle on your back. So I had to settle for a medium-sized one. Fortunately, it fit pretty well if you tightened the right straps, so I was able to accept the compromise. Still, it’s amazing how you're suddenly confronted with a done deal — and whether the mask is too big or not seems irrelevant to the Nepali in charge. 

We also checked the hose and all the connections carefully — if the mask doesn’t work, we won’t reach the summit. Chirring and Gyalzen also received masks, which we triple-checked. We were also given four regulators to fit onto the oxygen bottles and adjust the flow rate — one of them as a spare, just in case. After that, we packed a few “wag bags” — the bags you use as toilets starting from Camp 3, and which you have to carry back down yourself. I doubt I’ll use many, considering I barely eat up there, but better to have them than not. Then we returned to my tent and went over everything I’d be bringing one last time. Clothes, crispbread, summit gloves — we packed them into a duffel that Gyalzen took right away. The rest I laid out neatly, since we’d apparently be starting at midnight. 

Shortly afterward, Gyalzen came back and asked me to pick more food for the high camps. I followed him to the Sherpa kitchen, where Chirring opened a rice sack filled with a box of supplies. When he opened the box, it nearly exploded — it was packed with rice, porridge, sweets, chocolate, plastic bottles, and more. I was surprised so much could fit inside. The guys told me to take what I wanted to have enough food for the climb. They didn’t care that I already had a big snack bag stashed at Camp 2 and another packed in my backpack. As if I’d eat through both and still be hungry… Just to please them, I took three small granola-style packs, a can of Pringles, and two mini bottles of some overly sweet-looking pink drink. I honestly don’t know who I’m carrying all this food for — I’ll eat maybe half of it, at most. 

My plan after the summit is to eat a portion of popcorn and then hike down to Pangboche. To avoid wasting time packing later, I decided to use the time before lunch to start filling my two duffel bags. The trek to Lukla will take three to four days — I won’t need much, but I tried to balance the weight between both bags. Soon it was lunchtime, and I took the last ten minutes to call my mom. Then I ate some pasta and fried eggs. Just in time for dessert, Phunuru walked into the dining tent. As expected, he knew half the people there. I gave him a moment to chat and finished my fruit. Then we went with the guys to my tent to go over all final questions and do one last check. It took about an hour to get everyone on the same page. We checked all the gear again, the altitude meds, and food supplies. Then we reviewed the plan and timeline. 

Since the weather forecast still looked good for May 14, we agreed to begin our summit push at 00:30. If conditions changed, we could always hold at Camp 2 — not the warmest place, but with food and a dining tent for some company. For extra certainty, Phunuru said he’d contact two other guide friends for additional forecasts and send me the updates via WhatsApp. 

I left the meeting feeling confident — it really seemed like we were all aligned, which means a lot to me. The boys had rested enough and were ready. 

Then it was time to head to the coffee tent and toast the decision with a hot chocolate. I joined an all-women’s table with Gaby, Maria, and Prakriti, and we talked about our mountain experiences, what scared us most, and why only Maria was bringing an ice axe to Everest. The longer we sat, the more people joined us — soon there were nine of us. Adriana and Stan showed up with news that Mitch and Gelje had just reached Camp 4 and would go for the summit that night. Bianca and Ben joined too, and before long the tent was packed with 30 people. 

Ngima, Tashi’s son, had just arrived with a film crew making a small documentary about him. Ngima is the youngest person to summit all 14 8000-meter peaks — he did it at 17 or 18, I can’t quite remember. He was at Shishapangma while we were spending our final night at Manaslu Base Camp before heading to Samagaun. He’s incredibly well-educated and well-mannered, and quickly became a role model for many Nepalis. His goal is to significantly raise the reputation of Nepali climbers — and with his record, many are ready to listen. 

Luckily, a few people from the crew left after a while, and the tent became more pleasant. Ben, Bianca, and I started playing cards again — we were tired of hearing the same old “when are you going?” questions. At the next table, someone was telling his neighbor that the forecast now predicted much more wind in the coming days — far worse than expected just yesterday. That got my attention. Phunuru still hadn’t sent me anything, and I started doubting whether we should really head out at midnight. I was caught in a very real 50-50 situation, unsure whether to prepare myself mentally to go — or to stay. I’d already been at base camp for 10 days, waiting for the green light, and now this? 

I was sick of base camp. Pushing away so many thoughts is exhausting, and I could feel my mental strength starting to crack. But I didn’t want to make a wrong decision just because I was fed up. The more I thought about it, the more emotional I became. Fortunately, playing cards distracted me — until 6 p.m., when I had to go back to the dining tent, alone with my thoughts again. 

My gut wasn’t helping, and still no word from Phunuru. Dinner didn’t help either — instead of the expected spaghetti, there were soggy fries in brown sauce, some odd shell-shaped pasta in the same sauce, and two fried eggs. My appetite hit rock bottom. As I looked outside through the tent flap, I thought I saw Gyalzen — maybe he’d heard about the weather change too. I grabbed my jacket and went outside. It turned out to be Tashi, but Gyalzen and Chirring were standing by the Puja spot, so I walked over to them. I told them I still hadn’t heard from Phunuru — and just then, Chirring’s phone rang. It was Phunuru. He, Gyalzen, and Chirring spoke for about five minutes before I got to talk to him. The connection was terrible, so I went to get my phone and reached him via WhatsApp. He had already sent me two documents — the forecast had dramatically worsened. It was clear: climbing tonight was a bad idea. The next good window looked like May 16–18. We agreed to wait two more days at base camp. Most teams had already paused anyway — CTSS even recalled their teams from Camp 2. 

That worked for me. More than anything, I just wanted a clear decision — after four hours of limbo, it was a relief. Back in the dining tent, though, I couldn’t hold back my emotions. Two more days at base camp may not sound like much. But after 31 days of mostly waiting here, getting delayed again right before the summit push hits harder than people back home might imagine. 

I updated my family, posted the decision as my status, and tried to calm down. My mind was overflowing: the strongest thought was that I just wanted to go home. I want to be out of the cold, to be held by Raphael again, to cuddle our little ones, laugh with my friends, decide what and when to eat. I don’t want to crawl into a freezing sleeping bag anymore, see urine splashes on my down boots — or wear them all day. I don’t want to sit in a dining tent full of strangers, even though Regina and Juan-Pedro have become friends. I don’t want to spend 8 hours a day staring at a screen or worry about eating three meals a day. These are just a few things that come to mind when I think about what two more days really mean. 

It means I won’t set foot on Swiss soil for at least two more weeks — and only if everything goes smoothly: no flight delays in Lukla, my duffels arrive in Kathmandu when I do, and I can easily reschedule my flight home. All of that is far from guaranteed — and first, I still have to climb the highest mountain on Earth. That requires mental strength I currently can’t find in myself. Oh — and the fourth-highest, the very next day. 

So it’s hopefully understandable that I didn’t feel like writing long WhatsApp messages. Still, I didn’t want to miss my planned call with Raphael. He had to let me cry for ten minutes before we could talk normally. He told me it was just two more days — compared to the 28 years I’ve already waited, that’s nothing. But it’s not nothing. Since I left Switzerland, I’ve been pushing thoughts of “after Nepal” to the side. I don’t want to get excited about things to come, because there’s always that tiny chance that I won’t live to see them. I don’t want to think that thought either — so the future doesn’t fit in my head. 

At the same time, I don’t want to dwell on what the summit push will be like either. So I shove that out of my head, too. Constantly pushing away two major emotional spheres eats up a lot of energy. I’ve been doing it for six weeks, and now the walls are starting to crack. Sure, I distract myself daily and try to stay productive — but mentally, that effort never stops. 

After I calmed down, we could talk normally again, and Raphael even made me laugh. Of course, I had to wake up the little ones so I could see them again, though now I miss them even more. After the call, I was so drained I went straight to my tent. It didn’t feel cozy anymore, since everything was packed. So I unpacked a few things to make it feel less empty, and then got ready for bed. 

Sunday, May 11 – Addendum

Surprisingly, the Sunday afternoon turned out to be quite positive. After lunch, I took a little walk on the glacier. I had the idea of collecting a few small stones to bring back home. Crossing the river of meltwater is always a bit of a challenge because the stones in the stream are also on melting ice, and you never know if a stone that was solid yesterday might suddenly shift when you step on it today. Of course, you don’t want to get injured just before your summit attempt. I tried to pay attention to different types of stones so that the collection would be nicely varied. After that, I took a small detour and then headed back toward the camp. When I was almost at the top, I saw a climber below me who looked familiar. It was Robert, a guide from CTSS, on his way to his camp. I had met him a few weeks ago with his client, Andrea, on the way to the Pumori Highcamp. I greeted him and asked how Andrea was doing. He recognized me and said that she was currently in Periche, recovering from a cough. After three days of sitting around in camp, he had had enough of it, so he decided to take regular walks to Gorak Shep, spend some time there, and then return. He was just on one of those walks and took nearly half an hour to chat. There, I was able to unload some of my frustration, and he gave me a few tips on how I could survive the waiting time. His boss, Mike Hamill, had spent 16 days waiting in camp during his first Everest expedition before finally being able to head for the summit. It was the longest wait since, and Mike said that he had never felt more prepared after that. I believe that, in general, just talking with another person helped me. When it started to snow, we said our goodbyes, and I went back to my tent with a slightly improved mood to change clothes once again for the cold hours ahead. Then, I went to the coffee tent, because hot chocolate usually helps lift the mood. There, I met Ben and Charlie, who works for Everest One. Shortly after, Bianca joined us, and it didn’t take much discussion to realize that we could all use a little card game to cheer us up. We ended up playing for about three hours, and it’s amazing how easy it is to switch off your thoughts and focus solely on the game and fun when you have such great company. Charlie’s boss had gone to Lukla because of a bad cough, so he had some free time, which he clearly enjoyed. Ben seems to dream of home just as much as I do. He had already booked his flight two days ago and had to reschedule it once. We’ll see if that will be enough, or if he needs to reschedule again. In any case, we played until just before dinner and even planned to spend the afternoon together tomorrow. Afterward, I went to my tent, intending to sleep, but the game that could make FCB the champions was already on. I couldn’t fall asleep until the game was over and it was clear that FC Basel was the champion this year. In Basel, numerous champagne bottles were probably opened. I celebrated the title with a nap. 

 Tuesday, May 13

 Since I had lent my Wi-Fi access to Stan yesterday, I couldn’t check for FCB pictures in the news this morning. He and Mitch were sharing the Wi-Fi in base camp, which usually worked well. But when you get back to camp after the summit, you want to spread the good news to friends and family that you’re back safe. Stan, however, had work to do, which wasn’t possible without Wi-Fi. When he asked Mitch yesterday if he could manage an hour or two without Wi-Fi, I could see in his eyes that he definitely didn’t want that. So, I gave Stan the access for the whole evening so that no one had to miss out. 

Unfortunately, this led to login issues on my side, but after a long hour, they were suddenly resolved. Shortly after the first login, Phunuru called me on WhatsApp. He had tried to reach me several times last night, but I was unavailable. Phunuru wanted to know if we had made a decision about when we would go up. It seems like May 17–19 is still a good window. He had also spoken to Tashi this morning. I told him about the Swiss weather forecast and that we wanted to wait for it before making a decision. He made it clear again that I should focus only on myself and not worry about others. There will be more people on the mountain than during my rotation, but we are well-prepared and, since we are a small team of three, we are much more flexible than most others. I told him I would meet with Gyalzen and Chirring at 12:30 to exchange ideas again. Phunuru will be going from Lobuche Highcamp to Pangboche today and might not be reachable via WhatsApp but will be available by radio. 

After the phone call, I almost missed breakfast and had to sit in the sun. It gets really hot there, so today, I breakfasted in a T-shirt. Afterward, I checked what I needed to charge, in case we would leave tonight, and then I headed to the — surprise... coffee tent, to have a hot chocolate. There, I once again ran into Stan and Mitch and had a calm chat with them. It seems like Mitch won’t have any peace for a long time. For today alone, he has several interviews scheduled from 1–5 p.m., and tomorrow from 9 a.m.–5 p.m., it will continue in the same way. Since the Wi-Fi has been rather poor in EBC over the past few days, they decided, contrary to the usual principles, to fly by helicopter to the valley. Several major newspapers in England ran big articles, which sparked a lot of interest from various media that need to be fulfilled. The two will probably stay in Nepal until the end of May, hoping for some quiet time. We all at the table tried to imagine how Mitch, still without a voice, would manage to give 4 hours of interviews today. That will surely be funny to listen to, especially because there are radio interviews as well. I hope he takes an hour each day to himself to let everything sink in, because otherwise, the next few weeks will be hell for him. 

After we were able to enjoy the hot chocolate together, it was time to say goodbye because the helicopter doesn’t wait. I really hope we can meet again for a dinner in Kathmandu, as Stan and Mitch are people who radiate pure humanity and are incredibly sensitive. They have been a great support to me over the past five weeks, and they truly deserve a good farewell in civilization. The lives of these two guys will change forever because of the project, and I hope they don’t lose their humanity in the process. I don’t worry about Stan because he’s the man behind it. But Mitch will surely be faced with many difficult decisions in the future. I hope he learns to say no soon and gives himself as much space as he does for his project. 

After the farewell, I chatted a bit with the others and then headed back to the dining tent, where I had made plans with the guys. Unfortunately, there was still no weather forecast in the inbox, so we decided to meet at 6 p.m. Gyalzen said the weather on the 18th would be better than the 17th. But if everyone knows that and the weather for the 17th is still climbable, I’m okay with choosing the 17th as the summit day. Most others seem to be aiming for the 18th/19th. But, it’s still too early to make a decision. Let’s see how it looks in 5 hours. 

For lunch, I had pasta with tomato sauce and even got a second helping. Now I’ve been sitting here writing my blog for 1.5 hours, which I plan to send out today. Before lunch, I tried calling Raphael again, but the Wi-Fi was still not great, so we spent the first 10 minutes just saying “hello, hello, hello” before we could talk normally. But the choppiness soon annoyed us, so we kept the conversation short. We’re both excited that a possible summit day is getting closer because that means returning to Switzerland is also getting closer. Right now, I’m aiming for somewhere between May 22 and 25, which is in just two weeks. 

During the summit ascent, I’ll take notes on my phone for the blog, but I’ll probably write the full report in Kathmandu. I ask for a bit of patience and hope everyone accepts that the long report will be read a little later. Remember, all further updates will be in the next chapter, “The Summit Rotation” 😊.