We hiked higher and higher into the mountains of Nepal. We trekked through Dingboche, Thokla, and Lobuche--villages through which many historic Everest climbing expeditions had passed. Until I set foot in Nepal, my own mountain adventures had been limited to the peaks near my home in the Pacific Northwest. In the Himalaya I was walking in country that for me had only existed in books. I felt like an old classical musician who’d gotten a chance to visit the house where Beethoven had lived, or an architect who'd traveled to see the Parthenon.
But life was not easy in Nepal's high mountains. In Lobuche, for example, we were above 16,000 feet in elevation. Frost formed at night on the inside walls of our tent, and our water bottles froze. The Nepali villagers we met had to work hard to scratch a living from the difficult landscape. I photographed a sweet-faced little doll of a child who was out gathering dried yak dung that would be burned for heat in the family stove.
Everything that could be used to make heat was saved. The smallest bit of brush, anything that would burn, was collected by villagers, placed in doko baskets, and carried home. After years of use, the basket itself would be broken apart and burned.
Leah and I were careful to minimize the impact our presence had on that high place. Our planet doesn’t have unlimited resources, an environmental fact of life that is particularly apparent in the highest mountains
on earth.
