...and its abrupt end

Just over a week into our Himalayan trek, I had a bad night. I was awake and in the bathroom every hour throughout the night, so I didn't sleep much. Constantly leaving and coming back into the room woke Jon and Heather up, and I took some medication at their behest. In the morning, I didn't feel any better, so we decided to spend an additional day resting in Yak Kharka. I stayed in bed most of the day, only emerging from the bedroom to try to eat.

One of the toughest parts about the trek was the cold. During the day, the cold wasn't a big deal when we were hiking. In fact, I was hiking in a t-shirt when we were 3500-4000m up. However, it got cold fast if we were in a shady spot or if we stood still for too long. The teahouses had small fireplaces for heat, but they only put fires on at night, so during the day there was no way to get warm. This was amplified tenfold when I was sick. I was in bed under several blankets with most of my clothes layered on, but it was still difficult to get warm, and any time I had to get up to go to the bathroom (which was often), I had to start the process of warming myself up all over again.

Jon and Heather had climbed Kilimanjaro a few years prior, and Heather had gotten altitude sickness. We thought I might have it too, which would almost certainly mean I would have to descend as soon as I could. When Jon and Heather asked a guide at the teahouse to check my oxygen levels, however, everything looked fine. This was good news, because it meant that hopefully I had just had a problem with some food and would be fine the next day. So, we played the waiting game, which, of course, sucked.

The next day brought worse news. Not only was I not feeling up to hiking, but Jon came down with similar symptoms to mine, only worse. Not only did he have the same stomach problems, he was also suffering from headaches and a bloody nose, which meant he almost certainly had altitude sickness as well. He was also struggling with the cold more than I was - he was completely unable to get warm. Heather therefore decided that he should get down the mountain as soon as possible. There were two ways to get down from Yak Kharka: we could hike 5-6 hours back to Manang, the way we came, and then take a 10-12 hour rough Jeep ride; or, we could take a helicopter. There was no way Jon could hike an entire day and then take a Jeep, so the helicopter was our only option.

It arrived promptly after we called it. We said goodbye to Matt, Krista, and Gus, who were going to continue the trek without us, as well as a bunch of random onlookers who had gathered to watch us take off. It took an hour to get to Kathmandu, after a brief stop in Manang to refuel. None of us had been in a helicopter before, and Jon spent all of it leaned against the window with his eyes closed. Despite the circumstances, Heather and I tried to enjoy the scenery, as it was probably a once in a lifetime experience. We flew between mountains through rain, giving us a unique perspective on the region that we weren't able to get from the ground. Eventually, we started to fly over shorter and shorter hills, then over trees and buildings, and finally touched down at Kathmandu airport.

When we got there, an ambulance was waiting for us. Jon lay in a bed in the back with a nurse, who was asking him questions and trying to see if he was alright. Heather and I sat in the front with the driver, who spent half of the trip to the hospital on the wrong side of the road, dodging oncoming traffic. Apparently, people don't really get out of the way for ambulances in Kathmandu, even less so in midday gridlock. We were glad Jon couldn't see what was going on. After a nerve-wracking half hour, we arrived at a privately owned hospital, where Jon was put on an IV and seen by a few nurses and doctors.

Thankfully, after a few days in the hospital and a few more in a hotel, Jon was starting to feel better. Heather was able to change their flights, which meant that they could go home earlier and he could recover properly. After we saw each other a few more times, they were off. In the meantime, I went back to my hostel from a few weeks prior and spent those same days recovering in bed, feeling homesick for the first time. I was sad to see Jon and Heather go, and we were all bummed that we weren't able to finish the trek. On the bright side, we were able to live vicariously through Krista, Matt, and Gus, who crossed the pass successfully and made it back in one piece. We also got a week of amazing trekking, and a unique helicopter ride to cap it off. If we're lucky, maybe one day we'll be able to come back to finish what we started.