Searching for Mt. Sumeru

Sagarmatha (Everest), the world's tallest mountain as viewed from the top of Gokyo Ri

My big goal to trek in Nepal congealed as do many of my most important decisions: through a series of coincidences.

I had wanted to trek in Nepal since I was twenty. My husband and I had planned to do so for a honeymoon, but life intervened and we never got the chance. Or maybe it was too intimidating and we never tried.

Then came my cancer diagnosis decades later in 2018, followed by surgery, chemo and radiation. I returned to work late in 2019, only to be confronted, like everyone else, with the realities of COVID. I had been in my job for over 25 years and had always loved it. After recovering from cancer, it lurked in the back of my mind that I wanted to do something unlike anything I had ever done before. But I really couldn't. Even though I'd completed chemo six months previously, I felt fatigued most of the time and my brain was not firing on all cylinders. I secretly wondered if I'd developed dementia.

Also, as a the health and human services director of a small rural county, there was the need to lead our COVID response even though nobody knew what that actually meant.

A public health nurse decked out in face shield, mask, and gown provided by the author's department and team of volunteers during COVID.

In August of 2020, I caught pneumonia (probably COVID) for six weeks and my left arm swelled to multiple times its normal size. Having lost eight lymph nodes and having had numerous others irradiated, my lymph system couldn't keep up with the stress of the illness.

My hand and wrist swollen from lymphedema.

Like everyone else in the world, I powered through the pandemic, constantly adapting to whatever had become known to try to keep people in my community safe. But when it was over, also like so many others, I knew I wanted to do something utterly different than anything I had ever done before.

I was restless.

I changed jobs. And then in 2024, I retired.

I was visiting my Physical, (and Certified Lymph) Therapist, Caryl, so she could measure my arm. Caryl is a former Alaska Park Ranger turned doctor of physical therapy, and knows more than anyone I am aware of about the human body. She had helped me to return my arm to a normal size through several years of bandaging, compression and manual lymph massage and had helped me to recover from liposuction surgery to remove the fat and protein deposits. She had convinced me to embark on twice a week kettle bell classes, correctly realizing that increasing my musculature would help my body to keep lymph fluid moving.

The Himalayas reflected in Caryl's glasses.

Caryl is one of the most adventurous people I've ever met. She is always about to embark on an exciting trip to a very exotic place. She was telling me about a trek she was planning to Nepal.

"Nepal???" I exclaimed. "I always wanted to trek in Nepal! How do you put that together? How do you find a guide?"

Caryl had planned to trek in Nepal in 2020 with guide Ajay Dharel from World Sight Journey but her trip was canceled due to COVID. She had stayed in touch with Ajay, and prompted by her nieces, Monica and Juliet, had revived the plan.

"I'll give you the name of a guide in a few months," she promised.

By the time I got a late night text in early December, I had forgotten all about it.

I was floored. My husband is a serious athlete who has completed 50 and 100 mile, high-altitude ultramarathons. By comparison, I am a formerly obese couch potato with an arthritic knee.

The next morning, I broached the topic with Richard. "I have something important to ask you," I told him. "I think you'd better sit down. I don't know what you think I'm going to ask you but I guarantee it is not this."

We had many earnest conversations over the next week about whether to accept the invitation. We had frequent conversations with Caryl and met with her and several of her friends, one who had previously made the trek with Ajay, and one who would be going with her this time.

But in my heart of hearts I had already made up my mind.

When I was young and newly married, the man's career was the one that mattered. Richard had joined the Navy and I followed him. Richard had accepted a posting in Japan, and I followed him. It was a grand adventure, and I was able to incorporate the opportunities presented to me into a career I'd never dreamed about.

But it was like looking at a random set of ingredients assembled before me and deciding what to cook.

I'd never before decided what to cook, and then assembled my own set of ingredients. The truth was that I didn't have a clue how to figure out what I wanted to do with myself. Following Richard was a simple way to make a decision.

I had never really advocated for our trip to Nepal when I was young. It was my goal, not Richard's. I knew that if I passed up this opportunity to go, I would always regret it.

In the end, we decided to join the trek and Richard became our trainer. We set up a rigorous schedule, hiking or snowshoeing in the mountains once a week, twice a week and eventually four days a week. We charged up ski hills together. We carted around packs.

Me proudly sporting a scraped cheek and chin after face-planting on ice during a training hike.

For once, we didn't bicker on outings. I got out of the car toting skis uphill when it was two degrees out without complaining because...Nepal. I hiked and snowshoed through ice. I fell on my face and scraped my chin without grumbling. After all, this trip was my idea and Richard was being a really good sport!

Ajay stayed in constant contact. He assured us he had never had anyone not complete a trek.

Richard assembled all our gear. He made lists and helped me to select the correct shoes, pack, and poles. I communicated with Ajay, Caryl, dog sitters and a house sitter.

I told my kids about our plan.

"Is this a service physical therapists usually offer their clients?" my son wanted to know.

I remembered a dream I'd had in my twenties when I lived in Japan. I was studying the Threefold Lotus Sutra at university and we had been discussing Mt Sumeru, the impossibly high mountain at the heart of the spiritual universe where the Buddha had preached the lotus of the wonderful law. Nobody knew where to find Mt Sumeru. Perhaps it was located in the Himilayas?

I dreamt I was on a beach in Hawaii with many Japanese vacationers when suddenly the earth began to rumble. "Ara! Ara!"exclaimed the Japanese sunbathers, pointing out to sea. An enormous, white mountain had erupted from the ocean and was standing out against the blue sky. It looked like Sagarmatha, known in the west as Everest.

I realized in the dream we would all need to seek out higher ground to avoid the tsunami that would inevitably follow because of water displaced by the mythical mountain.

Finally, the day came to catch our flight.

Richard, Caryl and I ran errands in the morning and then met at her house. We piled our gear into her SUV. Each of us carried a backpack as a carry-on, and checked a duffle. We were decked out in our trekker uniforms: hiking boots, cargo pants, multiple layers of smartwool, sunglasses, bandanas, and sunhats.

A view from the air of the dust storm that prevented our original flight from landing.

We would fly to Dallas, and then Doha where we'd meet up with the other members of our team and fly together to Kathmandu.

Except for one problem.

Our flight to Dallas never landed. It was diverted away from Albuquerque due to a sandstorm.

The woman at the American Airlines desk called the rest of her crew together. "You'll never believe where these people are going!!!" she exclaimed.

"They're going to Kathmandu but their flight was cancelled!"

"All of the flights are completely full for days!"

"How do I get them there??!"