Day Six Part 2: We Beat the Porters To Base Camp and They Seem As Surprised As We Are

It’s probably nothing to brag about. These guys are carrying incredible loads and we’re packing nothing but our own water and a few changes in clothing (and Carrie with the saxophone). As I sat in the warm base camp sun appreciating our arrival at the seminal point in our journey, Erasto, one of the porters without whom I wouldn’t have survived one single day up here, arrived carrying most of my gear. Despite the fact that I had carefully chosen a duffle that converted into a backpack to make this easier, he preferred to carry it on his head.

“Hi Erasto,” I called above the wind. “Thank you so much!!”

“Jambo Jambo!!!” He replied, which is not only a greeting but is also sometimes the only words we have in common with some of the porters. He smiled so wide I could believe for a moment that he actually enjoyed his job but anyone would know better. I’m not sure I’d want to climb this mountain more than once and he did it regularly for a living. And without any of the amenities I was given. I made a mental promise to make my bullshit worth his while when tipping at the end, as if there was ever any question.

Now that we’re at 15,000 feet, my phone’s auto correct is working really badly and I’m blaming its ability to deal with altitude and not my own.