Bodie kept quiet about that fact until they were in the air. In fact, it was Lucie, still researching, who broke the fact to everyone around her.
“Well, look at that,” she said. “Sir Edmund Hillary supervised the building of this airport. Unhappy with the runway’s soil resistance he—” She broke off, eyes wide. “He bought liquor for all the local Sherpas and asked them to perform a foot-stomping dance to flatten the runway.” She cleared her throat. “That’s... good. Oh wait, it was paved in 2001.”
Cassidy and Yasmine heaved a big sigh of relief. “You could maybe finish your research before you pass it along,” the American said. “Next time.”
“I did wonder why we’re on a short-take-off-and-landing aircraft,” Jemma put in.
“The runway is just 1,729 feet long,” Lucie went on, not realizing this was one of those rare moments when less information was more helpful. “And closes regularly due to crosswinds. And there is no safe go-around in the event of an unsafe approach.”
Now even Bodie was starting to feel a bit nervous. Jemma caught his eyes and said: “Maybe we should have come by road.”
“Good luck with that.” Lucie shrugged. “There is no road.”
Then it came into view below.
Bodie gripped the arms of his seat a little tighter. The airport was small and surrounded by incredible scenery. There were lofty slopes immediately after the northern end of the runway, and a stomach-churning, steeply angled drop into a valley at the southern end. Bodie let out a deep breath and sat back.
“Looks good,” he said in a slightly higher voice than usual.
The pilot took them in expertly, coasting to a steady stop and depositing them near the terminal. Half an hour later they were standing outside, taking in the view. Lukla Airport was surrounded by incredible green, mountainous vistas. Thin sheets of mists drifted from their prodigious slopes and filled the valley below like swirling white soup.
Bodie took a deep breath, enjoying the bracing cold, and zipped up his heavy jacket. “Right,” he said. “Where now? And how the hell do we get there?”
Lucie looked around. “We hire a Sherpa.”
Cassidy looked surprised but pleased. “Where? Is there a shop?”
“I guess we go into Lukla,” Jemma said.
Bodie led the way, following directions after slipping on a new pair of Oakley sunglasses to shield his eyes from the worst of the surrounding glare.
Less than an hour later they were ready to start a trek in the direction of Everest Base Camp, a warmly clad, local Tibetan man named Tashi in front, first explaining in basic English that they had a short, three-hour trek in front of them to Phakding. Bodie’s first thought was: Short? But then Tashi was away and expecting them to follow.
They started off through the Sagarmatha National Park, bought trekking permits, and listened as Tashi pointed out jagged peaks named Kwangde and Kishumkongara. They followed the Dudh Koshi River, breathing fresh mountain air and enjoying the deep green gorges, several times crossing saggy suspension bridges that took their breath away in more ways than one. Trying to stay in the center of the swaying overpass, Bodie walked the planks with his head forward, not staring down between gaps at the rushing blue waters far below.
Scattered along the trail they saw prayer wheels and rocks, some boulders standing twenty feet high and covered in white lettering.
“Walking to the right of the prayer rock keeps you on the right hand of God,” Tashi told them. The ground was alternately rocky and then soft, and occasionally they passed through small villages where children played in the streets.
At one point, they stopped to allow a Yak train to pass them by; a long, secured line of the animals loaded with all manner of supplies for the locals including food, propane and kerosene.
Bodie stood in the direct sunlight, amongst the high hills and mountains and breathed deeply. Living this way, amid this intense beauty, had to be a goal they could all aspire to.
Their Sherpa was a strong man, always offering to carry their packs. When Bodie found out why—they were paid by the weight they carried—he promised to pay the man more than all their packs combined and hung on to his. The trail felt like a main road, men and women, and not just tourists, traveling with everything from building supplies to kitchen appliances.
They were too late to get a good day’s trekking in and, that night, were forced to find accommodation along the route. They stayed in a tea house, sleeping in their rooms inside rented sleeping bags and enjoyed hearty meals of rice and vegetable curry. Bodie fell asleep easily, listening to the rain pattering on the roof at three thousand meters.
*
The second day was far longer as they trekked through the Khumbu region. The trails were steep and demanding. The route consisted of wide, brown earth dotted by underbrush, with the wide, panoramic sweep of the mountains all around them.
When once they were passed by an animal train, Tashi warned them that the animals wouldn’t stop. They were too laden with heavy goods, and they should stand toward the land side of the mountain trail so that the animals wouldn’t push them over the edge.
More suspension bridges, these made of steel, were traversed through gritted teeth. They kept up a steady pace, sweating hard, and grateful for the constant chill wind dabbing at their faces.
An acclimatization day followed, during which Bodie and his friends bought more gear and rested their aching bodies.
*
The next day, they saw Mount Everest for the first time. Surrounded by other colossal peaks, it stood in silent grandeur, a sight that brought Bodie and
