As I shift away from Facebook, I’ve been reflecting on some of the experiences that have shaped me—and I want to document them here, in my own space. First up: the story of a dream nearly three decades in the making—my trek to Everest Base Camp. This series of posts will describe my journey on this iconic trip.
The Seed Was Planted in 7th Grade
It all started in Mr. Adams’ 7th-grade class (hi, Mr. Adams!). He had a deep fascination with Mount Everest that somehow stuck with me. He introduced me to Into Thin Air, Jon Krakauer’s account of the 1996 Everest disaster, and I was hooked. I didn’t dream of summiting Everest—I knew that was way out of reach (physically, financially, and let’s be real, mentally)—but the idea of standing at Base Camp, staring up at the world’s tallest mountain? That felt attainable. And it stuck with me.
Fast Forward 27 Years
As I approached my 40th birthday, I decided to make it a big year. I wanted a challenge, an adventure, something unforgettable. I dusted off that old Everest dream and made it a goal: I was going to Base Camp.
Soon after I started planning, Karin—a former work friend—reached out. We hadn’t spent much time together in the past decade, but I knew she was outdoorsy, experienced, and easygoing. She asked if she could come along. I said yes.
Planning, Training, Obsessing
The next six months were a blur of training hikes, gear research, and reading every blog and forum post I could find about trekking to Base Camp. I’ll write a separate post about our planning process for anyone curious, especially those thinking about doing this trek themselves.
We ended up booking our trip with Ace the Himalaya, a company recommended by a friend who had done the trek before. We chose an extended route that included Gokyo Lakes and the challenging Cho La Pass, rather than just the standard Base Camp out-and-back route.
Welcome to Kathmandu
After the usual international travel chaos (including the airline giving away my seat on the final leg from Qatar to Kathmandu), Karin and I both made it to Nepal on October 28, 2025.
I hadn’t expected much from Kathmandu. I imagined a couple temples, some trekking shops, and a place to rest before heading to Lukla. I was wrong—in the best way. The city buzzed with energy. The people were incredibly welcoming. And despite the traffic and chaos, I felt surprisingly safe. I’ll be writing another post just about our time in Kathmandu, because it absolutely deserves it.
The Trek to Lukla: Roads, Delays, and a Surprise Helicopter Ride
The next leg of our journey was getting to Lukla, the official starting point for most Everest Base Camp treks. There are two ways to get there:
- Helicopter from Kathmandu – fast (about 45 minutes), reliable, but pricey.
- Drive + Short Flight – bumpy, long, and slightly chaotic, but much more budget-friendly.
We opted for the second option. Why? Because while we were willing to brave the 12-hour overland route this time, we figured we might be desperate for a chopper out after the trek.
Into the Mountains (Slowly)
At 11 PM, we left our hotel and crammed into an SUV with four other trekkers from different groups. We happened to be in Nepal during Tihar, the Nepali version of Diwali, so the early part of the drive was full of twinkling lights from all the decorated houses and businesses. It was beautiful and festive—until the pavement ran out.
The road quickly became a rutted, gravel mess winding its way precariously up into the mountains. I somehow managed to sleep through parts of it (blessing), but Karin didn’t catch a wink. Still, it wasn’t quite the 12-hour horror show I’d read about. We arrived around 5 AM at the small mountain town where we’d catch our flight to Lukla.
We huddled outside a local hotel/restaurant, groggy and grateful to be out of the car, waiting for the airport to open.
The Waiting Game
The three groups from our SUV were all on different flights—ours was the earliest at 6:30 AM. For those that know me you likely know that I am obsessive about not being late for things. Nepalis? Not so much. The airport gates didn’t even open until after 6:30 AM, making me very nervous we would miss our flight. Turns out I needn’t have worried. By around 7AM we were settled into the airport and watching the first group board their flight. By 10 AM we were still settled in, and saw the first of our SUV friends take off. By noon, the airport was nearly empty. Then we heard the news, clouds had rolled in at Lukla. No planes were flying.
Flights to Lukla are notoriously unpredictable. It’s one of the world’s most dangerous airports, thanks to its short, sloped runway and steep mountain surroundings. If visibility drops, even slightly, planes simply don’t go. Trekking companies warn you to build in buffer days on either side of your trip. We had some cushion, but it quickly became clear we didn’t have enough.
Just when our dreams of starting the trek felt like they were slipping away, luck showed up in the form of logistics.
A Lucky Break
The guide who had accompanied us from Kathmandu wasn’t our guide—ours was already waiting in Lukla. But he was the guide for a luxury client who was already in Lukla and needed her guide flown in ASAP. Enter: the chopper.
To get him there, the company arranged a helicopter, and we were able to join. Yes, it cost about what it would have cost to fly from Kathmandu in the first place, but at that point, we were just thrilled to be moving again.
And honestly? It was incredible. It was my first time in a helicopter, and Karin was kind enough to let me take the front seat. We soared over terraced hills, cascading waterfalls, and could see the scars left by devastating past floods. The flight was smooth, and the views were unforgettable.
If I had one tiny regret, it’s that I didn’t get to experience landing on the “world’s most dangerous runway.” But hey—I’ll trade a cool landing for a guaranteed arrival.
Up next, the trek begins. Days 1-3. And check out my new Instagram page (as I learn to navigate the app) The_NomadsWay for more photos.