I am alone this morning as I head out back to base camp. I keep calling it “home”. Maybe I am trying to condition myself to that fact as some form of self-defense against homesickness. It isn’t just missing family and friends but all the conveniences we so take for granted. The food here is great but it is not what I normally eat and I am already growing bored with it. It is at least a five-minute walk to the privy. It is parka cold at night and sweltering in the day. My choices so I try not to whine too much. Unlike our troops who often are serving in these kinds of conditions and worse I can quit any time I want. I made the previous two-day hike in 3:59. That is the value of acclimatization. I pass others along the trail and know what they are going through. Most will only see camp and head down. It is still worth the trip I think. I spend the rest of the afternoon getting my climbing gear ready. On the following day Kami Rita, my Sherpa partner, and I go over strategy for tomorrow. We will make our first foray into the icefall at the base of Everest. This is actually the most technical part of the climb. It is the area at the base of the Western Cwm (that is the correct spelling it is a Welch word) where the glacier dumps off the mountain. It is an area of tremendous pressure ridges, crevasses and hanging seracs. The seracs are giant chunks of ice that are as big as a hospital. They occasionally fall over in massive crashes. This whole area is moving up to a three feet a day so it is constantly changing. Several years ago it was agreed that all the expeditions would go together and pay a fee based on the number of climbers to a group who would come in early, scout out the safest route, prepare fixed lines on the exposed sections and put in ladder crossings over crevasses that can not be gotten around. They spend the rest of the season monitoring and maintaining the route. We will only go about halfway up this time