Dreaming of Everest

By Saachi Dhillon

'We need more young adventurers like Saachi Dhillon. People prepared to head out into what is for them the unknown.'

- Peter Hillary

(Renowned mountaineer, speaker & son of Sir Ed

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ukiyoto Publishing
• Release date: May 1, 2022
• ISBN: 9789362690999

Book preview

Dreaming of Everest

download

Saachi Dhillon

Ukiyoto Publishing

All global publishing rights are held by

Ukiyoto Publishing

Published in 2022

Content Copyright © Saachi Dhillon

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in a retrieval system, in any form by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher.

The moral rights of the author have been asserted.

This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated, without the publisher’s prior consent, in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published.

For my parents,

who inspire me to live bravely.

Foreword

by Peter Hillary

Renowned mountaineer, speaker, and son of Sir Edmund Hillary

We need more young adventurers like Saachi Dhillon. People prepared to head out into what is for them the unknown. We all have ‘unknowns’ that can only be known by being bold and taking the first step, and then another and another. The process is exhilarating and with every step, we learn about the challenge and what will be required of us, but also, we learn about ourselves. Perhaps that is the most important learning of all. As Saachi says herself the journey highlights just how much baggage all of us carry in our lives. And how in the end you can emerge lighter as your inhibitions float away into the thin air.

I think that realisation is delightful and a fine reason to trudge up the trails of the Himalayas to Everest Basecamp at 5360 metres altitude and the foot of the world’s highest mountain. As my father said, It is not the mountain we conquer, but ourselves. And that is the story of this book.

CONTENTS

Prologue

At the Mercy of the Weather Gods

Crossing Bridges

A Serendipitous Meeting

The Hardest Part

Hello Sunshine

Breathlessness

Reaching New Heights

D-Day

So Close

Made it!

Breathe

The Journey Ahead

Author’s Note

About the Author

Prologue

It was 6 AM on a chilly December morning. I pulled my curtain to look outside the window from my 19th-floor apartment. A thick white shroud of smog greeted me. Banana in hand, I walked to my gym braving Gurugram’s bitterly cold winter. After an hour’s workout, I walked back to my housing society and ran up nineteen stories back home. The climb took two minutes on the watch. I was preparing for the adventure of a lifetime to the Everest Base Camp, also my first ever multi-day high-altitude trek. Improved stamina and lung capacity would hold me in good stead on the 12-day, 130 km journey to the foot of the world’s highest mountain, or so I hoped.

For months leading up to the trek, I dreamt of passing through beautiful, deep Himalayan valleys with heavenly views of snow-clad peaks. However, I never saw Mount Everest in my dreams. The fact that I was afraid about not making it to the base camp was quite apparent even in my quiescent mind. I felt the fear and went ahead anyway.

In May 2019, I traversed some of the earth’s most remote, breath-taking landscapes in an attempt to tick a big item off my travel bucket list. Not knowing what to expect, the phenomenal expedition turned out to be a spiritual journey like no other, leading me to a path of discovery about not only me but life itself.

At the Mercy of the Weather Gods

My roommate’s alarm woke me up. Groggy-eyed and disoriented, I squinted in the dark to check the time. It was 2 a.m.; we had slept for two hours! We hastily gathered our belongings and made our way down to the dimly lit reception area. The silence of the night was broken by the caretaker’s snoring that reverberated up the staircase. My roommate, Poorna, and I were the first ones there, waiting for the remaining ten group members to arrive. Soon after, a minivan arrived to transport us from our hotel in Thamel, Kathmandu (1400 m) to Ramechhap (474 m) to catch our 7 a.m. flight.

I tried, without much success, to catch some sleep on the bumpy four-hour-long drive that followed. I woke up to a lovely view of rolling foothills dotted with isolated farming communities with the Sun Koshi River gently flowing by. At last, we reached the nondescript Ramechhap airport located close to the riverbank. It was a small building with basic amenities, overflowing with tourists from all over the world. Due to bad weather at Lukla, there was a backlog of flights from the previous day, we learnt. We sat in a small Dhaba (café) drinking tea and eating sweet bread while getting acquainted with one another.

A group of eight runner friends from Bengaluru was a part of our 12-member expedition group, including two married couples. Poorna, an easy-going, tall, dusky middle-aged woman with short curly hair was one of the runners. She was close friends with Neetu and her husband, childhood sweethearts who were on their first-ever trek! Neetu, a sweet and energetic mother of two told me that she was a proud cancer survivor as she looked at me with her large, hazel eyes. There were three other solo travellers in the group, besides me. After a quick round of introductions, the conversation turned to why everyone chose to embark on this epic trek. It’s the trip of a lifetime and an opportunity to see the world’s highest peak up close – seemed to be the common thread that bound us all.

As the sun slowly rose into the sky, the intensity of the heat prompted us to remove our many layers of clothing. I walked across to the pile of our rucksacks, lying in the airport compound, to change my clothes. I had to settle for a small solitary toilet as a changing room, which was a bad call. The stench inside was unbearable and I had to hold my breath to prevent myself from gagging there and then. On my way back, I had a chance encounter with an old Sikh gentleman sporting a white, flowing beard standing outside the Dhaba. Happy to have come across a fellow Punjabi, we started chatting. It turned out that he was a 64 years old sprinter from Kapurthala, Punjab who had always dreamed of climbing Mount Everest one day. I was very impressed. It was his maiden trek to the Everest Base Camp, popularly known as EBC, to familiarize himself with the route. I spoke to him in Punjabi, conscious of my non-accent. We wished each other good luck and hoped to meet along the way.

We had been sitting in the Dhaba for over two hours now, dodging flies. Only one or two planes had taken off so far. We were third in line to take off. One of my group members, Anup, and I decided to go for a