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4:45 A.M. Feels like such a long time ago. We awoke early to pack our loose gear, and load into a big taxibus. Kili sherpa, who is working out all of our trip details, booked us for first flight today, saying any planes leave the ground. On the way to the airport, Damian looks at us, and says, “stick with me, its about to get crazy.” We arrive at the domestic airport, nearly opposite to all airports in the states. It is in worse condition than the international airport. Dirt floors leading up to the main doors, then step inside through a 1970’s metal detector. More Kathmandu chaos resides inside. Hundreds of people are packed into a dirty, smelly, pigeon filled building. Gene looks at me and lets me know that later in the day, it gets much worse. Good thing we arrived early then huh? After a short while of standing around waiting, we are issued our boarding passes by Sagar, on of Kili’s associates. The passes are somewhat bleak, with Nepal Airlines at the top, a few lines in the middle, and KTM-Lukla stamped onto it. We go through another security check into the departure section, and this time it is army guys searching your bags and feeling you up. Not all too comfortable. After waiting for about 15-20 minutes, we go outside and board a bus to take us to our plane. A man counts the people on the bus, 14. “We are missing one person!” he shouts. What kind of plane is this? After we find one more person, we start the drive to the plane. It comes into view, and it looks as if it should be in an air and space museum, not something to fly us to a mountain village. It’s a twin engine plane, the same as I’ve read about in Alaska. Damian ushers me to the front of the line, I guess we want to be in the front seats. We load the plane, all 15 of us, and the pilot gets in. we are issued cotton balls. I at first though it was cotton candy, and was about to pop it in the hatch, when Damian tells me it’s for our ears. Then the pilot lets us know that he thinks we are overweight with baggage. This can be seriously dangerous, because they calculate how much fuel to use and where to land on the runway by how heavy the plane is. The Twin Otter plane is fired up, the engines roar, a deafening noise. In the front seat, we are pretty much in the cabin, we see the pilots twisting all the dials, flying the plane, it was pretty dang cool. After a flight with small glimpses of distant Himalayan giants, the plane drops. My stomach was up on the ceiling I think. We were in freefall for about 5 seconds. It freaked me out, but was also fun, and the other man next to me lets me know that it usually doesn’t happen. Heartening news. Then Damian tells me we are close to the landing strip. I only see cliffs trees and hillsides. He points it out, “You mean that thing on the edge of that cliff that’s about 100 yards long?” “Yep”. I cross my fingers as we buzz into a cliff band at 130 MPH. We hit the runway and the tires screech as the brakes go into action. The wall ahead fills up my view, then we pull to a stop. Yikes. After a while of weighing bags, talking to porters, and other such business, we have breakfast, then start the trek. Lukla is a mountain village, up on the hillsides and cliffs, with gardens on terraces, dirty little children running about happy as can be, chickens and yaks roaming the streets. The streets are the mountain stone, hours of work for the people when it was made. The trail leads off, much is steps, all nearly the same stonework. We passed through many more small villages, crossing bridges over yawning gaps filled with rivers. Through places where the only building house giant prayer wheels, with house size boulders covered in prayers, and prayer flags stream everywhere. What a day, and of course, my camera was out of battery. We arrive at our stop for the night, Phakding, and settle down for the night. The place is nice, nearly brand new buildings, with plumbing in all the rooms. Not quite what I was expecting. The best part? Astroturf floors.
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