My trek to the Everest Base Camp - Part 2.

Our brief periods of engagement (I was working in Mumbai; he was working out in Bangalore for a few months) during our 9 month long engagement consisted of a lot of walks. Not the romantic ones in the moonlight, but the brisk early morning ones with walking shoes on. The man was going to make me Breathless alright.

After marriage in 2002, I moved to the US where my husband, Ajit, was based. My thoughtful husband had taken an apartment that was next door to- and had free access to - the largest gym in the city.  

Our first few outings in Detroit included – among other things – a trip to a theme park with roller coasters, an afternoon at a rock-climbing gym. He was dejected to discover that travelling at high speeds upside down with intense stomach churning was not my idea of fun. He was also deeply disappointed that hanging mid-air by just my fingertips somehow did not excite me. My romantic husband started also unveiling his long held romantic aspirations: Skydiving Together, Bungee Jumping Together, White Water Rafting Together, Paragliding Together. I, with my patent fear of heights and an intense phobia of deep water, foresaw his crushed aspirations. I began to develop  doubts about my young marriage’s survival.

Trekking became an increasingly appealing way to find Common Ground. For one, your feet touch the land at all times. Secondly, you are always vertical - No hanging, no being upside down required. Finally, it only involves walking. At slow speeds. And you can take as many breaks as you please. This I could do.  If there ever was an ‘adventure sport’ created for Couch Potatoes, trekking was it.

Our Honeymoon – taken 3 months after our wedding - involved trekking down the Grand Canyon, staying overnight and climbing back up the next day. It was almost beginning to be fun.

A few more day-hikes and I was a convert. I learnt to soak in the –otherwise usually inaccessible- scenery. I began to enjoy the challenge of pushing myself out of my comfort zone. I cherished the peace and quiet that one has as one treks. I also relished the occasional conversations with fellow trekkers. But most of all I was thilled to bits (surprise!) at not being a complete ‘Couch Potato’ anymore.  Now to take the next Big Step. You are not a ‘Serious’ Trekker if you just do day hikes. You gotta do some of the Big ‘Uns. We booked to go down to Peru and trek up to Machu-Pichu. But its price tag loomed on us. We were young, newly married, and debt ridden. So we cancelled. Maybe another day.

We moved back to India one year after my marriage, in 2003.  After taking about a year to settle in, Ajit now brought up the idea of going to Nepal the 2^nd time. He made the case well- he said that tea house treks were inexpensive and lots of fun -You just go from one village to the next. You stay in basic ‘Tea houses’ where ‘Dal, Bhat, Tarkari (Rice-Lentil-Vegetable)’ is provided each night. You also meet lots of interesting people enroute. You spend the evenings bonding with fellow trekkers. I negotiated my terms of passage. I would not carry my backpack. I would need to hire a porter. He agreed.

So we started to look for tickets to go to Kathmandu. This was early 2005 by now. But this time, Things Out of Our Control took over.  There was a Maoist uprising in Nepal. Ajit insisted that we should still go ahead and book. No Maoist in his right mind (or left one) would harm a Tourist. There was an uprising in the family against the trip. So we pushed it out for time-being. Good thing we did, because a couple of weeks later, we discovered I was pregnant.

Nepal now seemed improbable – impossible for the near foreseeable future.