THANKS, READERS! FROM EVEREST BASE CAMP

Thanks, readers! Only a couple of hours away. Following the signs. 

Whooo hoooooo!! After many miles and nearly two weeks, we finally made it up to and safely back from Everest Base Camp! Or at least, we made it down to Lukla (and its unforgettable airport), where we're fogged in with lots of other trekkers. 

No matter--we're celebrating, thanks to lots of readers who've bought us drinks and coffee on the site (THANKS, EVERYONE!). Tomorrow, we'll toss out a few numbers and photos from the trip. 

Liz celebrates with a sip of Mt. Everest whiskey at the foot of the Khumbu Icefall. Yes, that's a real brand. And yes, it was worth all the trouble packing it up the mountain. Thanks, readers! We also drank a lot of coffee and tea, too.

WORLD'S MOST DANGEROUS FLIGHT

The 15,000-foot view from our flight to Lukla, Nepal, home of the world's most dangerous airport.

If you want to trek to Everest Base Camp in Nepal, chances are you'll be flying into Lukla's Tenzing-Hilary Airport. Deemed "the most dangerous airport in the world" the airport sits at nearly 10,000 feet, features a single runway less than 1,500 feet long (most commercial runways are more than 5,000 feet) and is built on a 12 percent slope that on one end collides with solid rock and the other falls off steeply into a deep valley. 

It's not exactly leisure travel, but considering the alternative was taking a rickety bus for 10 hours along dangerous mountain curves, followed by four days of hiking uphill, we decided to take our chances. 

A twin-prop plane preps for the downhill take-off from Lukla's airport at 9,100 feet.

However, before we could defy death by landing at the airport, we first had to survive an hour-long, knuckle-whitening flight from Kathmandu to get here. This is the same flight that crashed in late September this year, killing all on board.

Nervous would be an understatement. 

From our seats in the well-used, twin-prop plane, we did see some stunning views of Mt. Everest. Yet we also got unwanted pilot's-eye views through the cockpit, where the captain and co-pilot wove skillfully between swirling storm clouds, dodged soaring vultures, and let the wings skim dangerously close to the peaks of some of the world's highest mountains.

On our flight, one person cried, two passengers hurled, and three on-board screamed out loud when we hit turbulence on our approach to Lukla. We'll let you guess which of us was included in the aforementioned stats.

Upon landing (and kissing the asphalt runway much too intimately), we grabbed our heavy backpacks and headed quickly up the dirt and stone trail into Lukla. In addition to the flight, we had been awake since 5 am, and we had six hours of uphill hiking ahead. We needed a drink.

Our celebratory coffee on making it to Lukla alive and kicking-off the long trek to Base Camp.
Thanks for the drink, readers!

Considering we hadn't yet had breakfast, we opted for two strong Everest coffees and some fresh apple strudel from a nearby bakery (thanks for the contributions, readers Todd and Tori P, Alison J, Ben P, and Lindsay N!)

With our caffeine fix and some time to calm our nerves, we headed up the trail, starting a 12-day return trek to Everest Base Camp. Seeing as Kip refused to buy a map or hire a guide or porter, we'll need all the luck we can get. 

The son of the bakery owner gives us the thumbs up as we hit the trail to Everest Base Camp.

A LITTLE HELP GOES A LONG WAY

OK, so if you've been reading this blog, hopefully you know we try to do some sort of volunteer work at least once a week wherever we are. It's not a monumental goal, nor is it going to change the world. We realize this.

But giving back, even a little, does make us feel good. Plus, sometimes we get to see/do some cool stuff we may not otherwise get to do, such as photographing whale sharks or spending Earth Day underwater in Palau. 

Last week, doing our "1 of 7," as we like to call it, we experienced something we thought was pretty nice. 

We had found our own little paradise--a beach hut for $10 per night (whoo hooo!), complete with front porch, hammock, and ridiculous views, all on a remote island in the Philippines where few foreigners visit except during surf season, which it wasn't. There were even seashells out front for Liz to collect and water buffalo out back for Kip to take pictures of!

The only problem was the beach was scattered with trash. Most of it came in with the tides, but some also fell from the hands of locals, many of whom still think tossing their chip bags, food wrappers, and cigarette butts in the sand is acceptable behavior. A few folks even call the plastic bag the "Filipino Jellyfish" for its prevalence and appearance when found in the water or washed up onshore. 

After breakfast and a less-than-stellar surf session, we grabbed a few plastic bags and hit the beach to start a clean up. Side note: You may have noticed picking up trash has been a go-to activity for us; there's litter everywhere, it's easy to collect, and cleaning it up makes an immediate impact, especially in tourist areas; if only we could figure out how to get people to stop littering. Hmmmmm. 

After half an hour or so, a graying man and younger boy in board shorts walked down the empty beach toward us. Looking closely, it appeared as if they both were carrying plastic bags and that they were picking up trash as they walked. 


Helpers? Indeed, it was.

The man's name was John. He was an expat American living in the Philippines, and he and his Philippine-born son, Kenji, had seen us and wondered if they could lend a hand. 


"Of course," we told them, "we'd love to have the help."  So father and son joined in, and, together, we walked along talking and filling our bags. 

John said he hoped this would be a good lesson for Kenji, who spent hours on the beach or on the waves nearby. He also thought it may help convince some of the locals who'd been watching us to stop littering and maybe even consider cleaning up after others who weren't as conscientious. 

It was nice to imagine. 


After emptying our bags in a nearby trash can, we shook hands and parted ways. And then we got back to enjoying what we felt was our own little slice of paradise...