The climb of Mount Everest has begun. Our team came together in these past few days, flying by various routes and trajectories around the world to Kathmandu, lugging all manner of electronics, insulation and enthusiasm. Good meals and nights of uninterrupted slumber have repaired some of the jet-lag grogginess and disorientation. We've met as a team several times now and have gone over preliminary plans and strategies. Tomorrow we fly into Lukla and begin walking. It is no stretch to suggest that all are looking forward to simply walking. That will be a welcome change from months of planning and packing and wondering about the future.

Personally, I can't wait to be walking. Kathmandu is always an exciting place for a climber to visit… but most of us wouldn't want that visit to be any longer than is necessary when Everest is the goal. There is too much chance for getting sick either from taking in smoggy air or dodgy food. There is still charm to this huge city, but it isn't wise to go hunting extensively for that charm just now. Kathmandu is struggling these days; the electricity is only on a third of the time and so there is a nearly constant background noise of hotel diesel generators throbbing away. People are nervously recounting a winter devoid of moisture and the resultant severe water shortages they are now dealing with. As usual there is uncertainty over Nepali central government effectiveness and concern for how worldwide financial troubles will impact the country.

Walking in the countryside will be perfect. We won't think just yet of the dangers of the Khumbu Icefall or the winds that might scour the Lhotse Face. We'll put off worrying over Hillary Step traffic jams and jet-stream meanderings. Instead we'll set off walking through lush forests and fertile farmland through the villages our Sherpa teams live in. We'll get talking some and walking more and we'll get away from cell phones and email. We'll try not to trip or step in goo… we'll take pictures of distant mountainsides and close-up flowers and our lives will get simpler than they have been for some time. I'll speak with Erica and Ed Dohring; my clients, and will explain how this ten-day trek can be the perfect way to prepare for a big climb. I'll try to tell them what I can of the Sherpa culture and the mountain history. Perhaps I'll get to introduce them to a few famous climbers along the trail. I'll mug for the cameras, as our team tries to capture our First Ascent gear being rolled out on its maiden voyage in the great mountain range.

I'll try to stay healthy, warm and dry… simple.

While the rest of the gang set out in the dark for "production work" up and over the ridge to Khumjung, I followed at a more civilized hour with Erica and Ed Dohring. Father and daughter were both feeling fine after two nights and a rest day living the Namche high life. On this calm and sunny morning, we hiked up to Syangboche, the sometimes-used dirt airstrip five hundred feet directly above Namche. The mountains were big and bright and unobscured by any cloud whatsoever. As we came to the forested ridgecrest separating us from the Khumjung Valley, we were granted a big view of Everest and Lhotse with wind tearing ragged cloud banners from their summits. We connected up with the early-morning film squad to find the gang over in the Khumjung Bakery. They finished up breakfast and then together we went out for a few more photos, posing amongst the peaks on a fine spring day. Once this was finished, Ed, Erica and I continued with our acclimatization hike, agreeing to meet one and all back down in Namche in the afternoon. But first we found our way to the deck of the Everest View hotel to enjoy… what else? The Everest view with a couple of plates of French fries at 12,000 plus feet. A humongous brown and gold eagle flew close over our fries on his/her way through the tree tops of the ridge. There were a few other tourists about, but for the most part we'd gotten away from the "crowds" of trekkers and porters on the main trail up-valley.

Our walk was quite leisurely and enjoyable, but it was not without purpose. Rest on a rest day is a great and valuable thing, but light exercise at a slightly higher altitude than one is currently sleeping at is also a great way to prepare for actually moving higher. We'll do that tomorrow, assuming that everybody has a manageable last night in Namche. But first, folks are back to resting… enjoying last showers and internet access and shopping in the metropolis of Namche Bazar.

Down in the shadowy forests of Deboche, we passed an easy bunch of hours yesterday. The sun was blazing at midday, but otherwise, we were under lowish grey clouds. Many of the team made their way back up the hill to Thyangboche to see the large monastery or to sample the food at the bakery or to hook up to the web at the cyber café. Then it was back down to our place next to the nunnery in Deboche. The woodstove in the common area of our tea house kept the place cozy and hard to leave.

We left it this morning at 8 AM in seemingly perfect weather. There were wind-sculpted lenticulars and cat's paw clouds hovering over Everest and Lhotse, but the other hundred mountains in view were cloud-free. We crossed the river to the sunny side of things and walked gradually up the track with Ama Dablam straight ahead and apparently welcoming us with her outstretched arms. The "Dablam" is the jewel that sits in the hollow of the mountain's throat, as if on a necklace. This jewel is composed of ice; a hanging glacier discreetly sized and sitting improbably on the face of a great mountain. I was curious to see it again, since I'd heard so many stories over the winter about its demise. During the popular season for climbing Ama Dablam, in the Fall of 2008, the Dablam had calved off massive avalanches and everybody I spoke to claimed that one could easily see the difference. Sure enough, while still beautiful, the jewel seemed half its former size.

Of course not many people register such a marked change in the "health" of a glacier without wondering if the world is changing too fast and whether there will be glaciers enough to climb on forever. So it was, burdened by the weight of the universe and the health of the planet that I, along with Ed Dohring, Erica and Seth joined the rest of the team in Upper Pangboche at Lama Geshi's house. We'd come to seek the blessing of perhaps the most revered man in the entire Khumbu region. Lama Geshi, although he doesn't sit in some grand temple or cathedral, is a man of great significance in the Buddhist religion of the Sherpa people. It is quite normal for climbing Sherpas and the Western teams they assist to seek his blessing before approaching Chomolungma… the Mother Goddess of the Earth… or "Everest" for short.

Lama Geshi greeted us -basically in his living room and got right down to giving each one of us a friendly head-butt as he tied a specially blessed and knotted gold string around our necks. I felt immediately happy to watch him go through a brief prayer ceremony for us. Although I tend to be slightly cynical about such things, that is a hard attitude to maintain around Lama Geshi as he always seems to take such a genuine interest in the climbers that visit him. Their summit pictures (at least a hundred) are on his walls and he must have seen thousands over the years, but somehow he still seems interested and enthusiastic. Such prayers… basically asking for his help to keep us from killing ourselves… might be a heavy thing, except that Lama Geshi always breaks out laughing as he utters them. His joy is infectious and welcome and seems to put us all in the perfect frame of mind for continuing our walk toward the mountain.

After leaving Pangboche, we gathered again about an hour up the track at Shomare for a rest and some refreshment in another fine tea house. The clouds were steadily rising up-valley and covering the big hills as we set out for the final push to Pheriche. This meant that we could only see about fifty unbelievably beautiful mountains (rather than a hundred) as we turned the big sweeping corner around Tawoche and headed north into town. We were all stunned to see our lodging for the next two nights: The Himalayan Hotel, a beautiful new and spacious building of stone and wood. It didn't take long for each of us to find a comfy spot in either the sun or sitting rooms. There are hills aplenty around to keep even Ed Viesturs content as he "rests" and acclimatizes.

Coming into the teahouse dining room this morning under low, cloudy skies with a trace of new snow on the ground, it was obvious that we were each ready to be finished with trekking. Enough of the team was battling sniffles or tummy troubles that we were all getting borderline paranoid about sharing germs with so many others in these common spaces. We were ready to make it to our own basecamp and our own dining tent… we were anxious to meet our Sherpa climbing team and get started on a big climbing project. But for al

But for all of our restlessness, Gorak Shep hadn't been that bad a place for our team. A number of us hiked up Kalapathar yesterday evening in order to catch the sunset. In contrast to the ample daytime traffic for this sought-after destination, by 5 PM there was only a handful of folk left on the hill and these were hurrying down while we strolled up. The afternoon had been cloudy with periodic snow showers, but the higher we got, the more the clouds fell away from Everest and Nuptse and Pumori. We took picture after picture as the light changed and then trotted down in the dark when it had all been expended.

We joined the flow of traffic around 8:30 this morning for what we knew would be a relatively short and easy climb into basecamp. The low cloud seemed to muffle sound and it was almost a relief to have our field of vision minimized so that we could concentrate on walking instead of gawking at the great peaks. Our path was, at first, along the rock and dirt of the lateral moraine and then finally we dropped down onto the glacial surface itself for the last half hour into camp. We passed plenty of fully dedicated trekkers, bent over and gasping for breath and I was reminded of how much importance is placed, by so many, in simply getting to Everest Basecamp, with no thought whatsoever of climbing the mountains above. I felt a little sympathy over the diminished views for these folks, but then the clouds began to break and lift as we reached the first tents. By the time we marched into our own camp, we could see plenty, including the rough and intimidating Khumbu Icefall stretching up toward the Western Cwm.

We could also see that our Sherpa team had been hard at work in preparing our camp. We greeted them, as well as Ed Viesturs, Jeff Martin and Linden Mallory who'd come ahead yesterday to help get things in order. We wrestled with duffle bags for a time and moved into neat and new First Ascent tents. I made a quick exploration of a few of the surrounding camps to say hello to old friends but then I hurried back to my own camp for a lunch with my team. We strategized a bit and laid out a few of the normal ground rules that make living so closely for so long, not only possible but enjoyable. Then we gathered outside with the entire team, including basecamp personnel and climbing Sherpas and then each person introduced themselves and said a few words. Some of us chuckled to hear the casual delivery the older veteran climbers gave to their extensive resumes. It is funny to realize that we are in a place where someone might just forget to mention that time they climbed K2 or Ama Dablam or Kangchenjunga. Peter Whittaker reminded one and all that our top priority on this trip would be safety- for which he got plenty of agreeing and understanding nods in return.

Then it got cloudy and a bit snowy again as most took the opportunity for a quick nap. I enjoyed scattering my junk in my own tent and plopping down in the middle of it all, drifting off to the thunder of avalanches as the glaciers around BC pushed one railroad-car-sized chunk after another over great drop-offs. We are in the midst of a crazy tapestry of tents and boulders. At any given time, one can hear cooks chopping veggies, shovels scraping gravel, rocks being moved from place to place, a few tinny FM radios playing Nepali music and an occasional live voice breaking into song. As peculiar as it may sound, this already feels like home and I have to make myself remember that I was anywhere else for the past ten months.