Day 11: Lukla to Kathmandu
We awoke to the sunrise just before 6 a.m. Keypi was supposed to wake us at 5:45 to pack but appeared to be running late. A few minutes later a loud knock came along with “hellloooo….good morning!” I opened the door to see a bleary-eyed Keypi and thankfully a clear sky behind him.
“Good Morning…looks like clear sky today. Good for flying.”
“Not too cold either…”
“We’ll be ready in 10 minutes.”
We sat in the dining hall eating oatmeal and watching the first planes of the morning arrive. The airstrip at Lukla is literally on the side of a mountain; a short section of pavement that the local kids play volleyball on after all of the landings of the day are complete. Seeing the planes arrive is fun, but the takeoff is even better. As I watched, the pilot of a small twin otter aircraft maneuvered the plane as close as he could to the stone retainer wall, applied the brake, gunned the engine, and let ‘er rip at full throttle. Never seen someone powerbrake a plane before but I guess there is a first time for everything.
After breakfast we made our way into the makeshift Lukla airport and waited for our plane to arrive. The planes only stay on the ground for as long as it takes to deplane the arriving passengers and board the departing passengers. It’s not unusual for a plane to only be on the ground for 10 minutes. In the ‘terminal’ I met a particularly chatty New Yorker who had been trekking since June.
Before long it was our turn. Plane arrived and the ground crew got the passengers and cargo unloaded as quickly as possible. The Nepalese military had soldiers stationed all around the airport, watching the runway and helping direct the plane around the tarmac. I was thankful that our flight was nearly empty. When trying to gain speed before falling off a mountain I figure the less weight the better. We loaded up, the pilot backed up to the stone wall, and revved the engine. I watched the tarmac blur past as we taxied and lifted off with little runway to spare.
Arriving back in Kathmandu was a bit of an awakening after being in the mountains for over a week. The bustle of motor bikes, rickshaws, and car horns awoke my ears while the rampant pollution found its way to my eyes and lungs. I have a hard time breathing here in the valley, at least when out among the traffic in Thamel. The Shanker was full of westerners getting ready to set off on various expeditions, much busier than 10 or so days before when we had left.
Next up was a trip on foot down to Thamel to meet Sagar. There was much to discuss and many details to work out for the next leg of the trip…Tibet.
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