Had a good walk up from Pheriche today. We are now at about 16,000 feet. That is higher than anywhere in the lower 48. We stopped for a little while at a place where it has become tradition to build cairns – large rock monuments – to dead climbers and even some dead trekkers. I came through this grave yard of sorts about dark in 2009 while going down to rest at Pheriche. I was by myself and there was wisps of fog scooting along the ground in the gathering darkness. There was no one else around and it was kind of eerie. I paused there a while to think. I recognize some of the people on these monuments. It is a powerful reminder that for me getting to the top is optional but getting down is mandatory.

Today at the cairns I noticed a bit of a headache when I stopped. I knew it would be waiting on me at Lobuche. Sure enough. I have used all my tricks; extra water, pain killers, walk about. No joy. It is going to be a long miserable night. On top of everything else the tea house is the same one that tried to kill me with food poisoning in 2009. Every tea house offers noodles, rice or potatoes. Or in some cases potatoes, rice and noodles. They mix it up by letting you add vegetables, egg, chicken, tuna, or cheese to your base choice of rice, noodles or potatoes. So that makes the menu quite varied. Unfortunately ever “chef” in the Khumbu trained at the Khumbu School for the Culinary Arts and every dish tastes pretty much the same. I would sure love a hamburger. I just need to suck it up for another month and a half. I have been eating like a horse. I lost 20 lbs in 2006 and 15 lbs in 2009. Some weight loss is inevitable but I am trying to not start before the real climbing begins.

My sweet bride is in Florida this weekend visiting my 2 year old grand daughter Blythe. She’ll probably see my daughter and son-in-law too since Blythe lives with them. I am terribly envious to the point of homesickness. Of course I miss both my daughters and my wife terribly but they won’t change a whole lot in two months. Not so with a two year old. My daughter has Blythe saying “summit Papo, summit Papo”. If that isn’t some pressure!

The place is packed tonight. I hate crowds. Climbing and trekking is a very international pastime and, how do I say this, not ever culture is as concerned with being daisy fresh. Coupled with the yak dung smoke choking the room and as soon as dinner is over I retreat to my 6×10 room. At least it isn’t as crowded even if the frost on the windows is on the inside and my battery on my Kindle just died. Fortunately it is only ten hours till daybreak and my headache is just on one side.