You Never Summit Alone

 

You Never Summit Alone

An Everest Base Camp Journey with Family & Amazing Human Beings

The wind cut sideways at 16,000 feet, on the trail above Labuche. My son Arjun was a few steps behind me, breathing in that slow rhythm we’d all learned to trust; step-rest-breathe-step; quietly keeping an eye on Group 3 as he walked. Nearby, a porter moved past with a load twice my pack, smiling as if on a stroll. And it struck me, right there in the thin air, that I’d stopped thinking about Everest.

For me, this journey was never only about reaching Everest Base Camp. It was about one unforgettable adventure as a family, alongside friends from my running community who had long since become an extended family.

When Bala (a dear friend, and the founder and head coach of RHWB) first announced the Everest Base Camp (EBC) trek, I was intrigued. Running has shaped our family for years, but this felt different: not another race to train for, but a chance to experience something extraordinary as a family. The timing felt right, too. Ayush was soon-to-be a college student, starting a more independent chapter, and Arjun, at 13, was old enough to understand the commitment. So we said yes; not because it was convenient, not because we were fully prepared, and certainly not because anyone dreams of ten days of cold, limited showers, and relentless uphill walking as their ideal vacation. We said yes because some memories are worth working hard for.

Our EBC family starting in JFK Airport and arriving in

 Kathmandu; clean clothes, full optimism, no idea what’s coming. 

 

Preparing for the Unknown

Training for EBC is a funny thing. You spend months climbing stairs, hiking local mountains, and debating which socks are “Everest worthy”; as if the mountain checks your ankles at the door. In every prep call, Rajan Ji (our tour operator) answered every question imaginable, while Jafar Bhai (friend, mentor), who had actually summited Everest, made the impossible feel achievable.

One training hike stands out. We climbed Mount Lafayette in the White Mountains, and it felt genuinely difficult; but also strangely reassuring as Bala kept saying it is 30% more difficult than the actual daily EBC hike. Little did we know that single day would prepare us for so much of what lay ahead. Even so, none of it truly prepared us for what mattered most: the people we’d meet and the lessons we’d learn.

 White Mountains bound → Group at the base of Mt. Lafayette → 

The kids and me at the top → Team celebrating a day well earned

  

The Road to Everest Base Camp

For anyone unfamiliar with the route, the trek unfolds like a slow climb through the roof of the world. You take a small-wing plane from Kathmandu to Lukla, hike to Phakding (2,652 m / 8,700 ft), then climb to Namche Bazaar (3,440 m / 11,300 ft) for our first acclimatization day. From there it was on to Tengboche (3,867 m) and its famous monastery, then up to Dingboche (4,358 m / 14,300 ft) for a second acclimatization stop as the landscape turned stark and treeless. The final push carried us through Lobuche (4,910 m / 16,100 ft) and windswept Gorak Shep (5,180 m); until, after ten days on the trail, we stood at Everest Base Camp (5,364 m / 17,600 ft).

 

The Mountain Decides

Our first lesson came before we even started trekking. After reaching Kathmandu, our first day of the expedition required a flight from Kathmandu to Lukla, followed by a four-hour climb to Phakding. But the weather had other plans; flights to Lukla were delayed, and uncertainty slowly replaced excitement. That’s when Bala smiled and said something that stayed with me the whole journey: “The mountain decides.”

Eventually, helicopters became our ticket toward Lukla. As we lifted off, conversation stopped; every face glued to the window as the mountains unfolded. But the mountain wasn’t done deciding. A few of us, my family included, were dropped not at Lukla but at Surke village. The detour climb from there was the hardest of the trek; road construction, muddy paths, steep climbs and descents. After nearly five hours, some in the dark, we accepted we couldn’t reach Phakding and halted overnight in an unknown village. Next day all the “Surke Warriors” then hiked three more hours to meet the group in Phakding by 8 a.m. An early, humbling reminder that everyone walks a different path; but resilience gets you to the same destination.

Where it all began — First day morning in Kathmandu → A helicopter bound for Lukla that dropped us in Surke →The Surke Warriors, resuming climb next day morning, finally making it to Phakding

Life Between the Mountains

If someone asked what I remember most, I’d struggle to name the exact distance we walked each day. Instead, I’d remember moments: swaying suspension bridges; long lines of khacchar/donkeys who clearly had the right of way and they knew it; a hot shower becoming a luxury; and Dal Bhat becoming your best friend. Every morning began with Rajan Ji’s cheerful “Hari Om”; less about starting another day of trekking, more about starting the day with gratitude.

Every day began with Rajan Ji’s “Hari Om” → Crossing the swaying bridges became daily routine → The views that made every step worth it → and mountain's lunch/dinner plate a.k.a "Dal Bhaat Power, 24 hour"

 

As the altitude climbed, so did the challenges; headaches, harder breathing, conversations that needed strategic pauses. Our doctors quietly became the unsung heroes; monitoring oxygen levels, offering medications, calming anxious trekkers. When Arjun wasn’t feeling his best, they were right there; and watching the group rally around him reminded us this wasn’t forty-seven individuals trekking together. It was one family looking after one another.

And then there were our porters and guides; the quiet engine of the whole expedition. They carried our luggage, scouted the trail, and found the safest path across every ridge and river crossing. While we leaned on trekking poles and GPS watches, they moved past carrying more than any of us could lift; without complaint, without breaking a sweat. Their strength and humility taught me more than any motivational book ever has.

Bala also gave us two words we came to live by during the climb: "Rest Step" (step-rest-breathe-step.repeat). Awkward at first, instinctive within days; and clearly more than a technique: progress doesn’t always require speed; sometimes the secret is simply refusing to stop. Our evenings were just as memorable, gathered for Mafia game, informal TED-style talks where people shared stories and humor; proof that while our feet were tired, our spirits weren’t.

       The unsung heroes of the trek: our doctor friends, watching over every heartbeat and breath

Leadership in the Mountains

This was my first time leading a team in the mountains, and Group 3 (a.k.a. High-Josh) taught me something new every day. Leadership here had little to do with being in front. It meant checking whether someone had eaten, noticing who had gone quiet, and adapting the plan constantly; all with one good intention: getting the whole group safely to the next destination. Some days that meant celebrating a small victory; others, just walking beside someone in silence. Arjun, walking near me, quietly helped watch the group too. Group 3 made leadership easy; everyone looked after everyone else. Titles disappeared, and kindness took over.

 

All group leaders (Me, Vandana, Bala, Vats) → “High-Josh” group photos: objectively the best group on the mountain (yes, Group 3 took a vote; it was unanimous 😀)

The Five Phases of an EBC Trek (…or a Marathon)

Somewhere during our climb, I realized an EBC trek isn’t so different from training for a marathon. In both cases, you voluntarily sign up sitting comfortably at home, spend months preparing for it, buy an unreasonable amount of gear and somewhere in the middle; question the person who signed up for this. Unfortunately, that person is YOU 😀. Both journeys go through the same five phases:

Phase 1: The “I was born to do this” phase

Pure excitement. Your shoes are clean, backpack is manageable, energy is high, and selfies every 10 steps. You cheerfully wonder why anyone said this would be hard. For runners, it’s the start line.

Phase 2: The “Okay, now we are actually doing this” phase

The novelty wears off and doubt creeps in. The altitude climbs, every hill feels longer than advertised, and your lungs start filing formal complaints. For FMers, it’s around mile 13; for us, it was somewhere just past Namche Bazar.

Phase 3: The “There were so many other things I could have done” phase

This is where the brain becomes incredibly creative. “Switzerland would’ve been lovely.” “A beach. Any beach.” “Why not vacation where breakfast is followed by a swimming pool?”. This is where goals are quietly won or lost; not because the body quits, but because the mind just wants to stop and rest.

Phase 4: The “Whose idea was this?” phase

Around 15,000 feet came one of the most important psychological stages of every endurance adventure: Blame. “Why did Bala convince us this was fun?” “Jafar Bhai, why did he have to make climbing Everest so inspirational?” and everyone else who said “EBC will change your life”. At this point, you are less interested in changing life and more interested in getting a spa. Your body is tired, but you are still moving and your brain is blaming half the people in your contact list.

Phase 5: The Gratitude Summit - “We did it” phase

We reached Everest Base Camp and something remarkable happened. You realize, the mountain hasn’t changed; you have. The gratitude floods in: for Bala - whose vision made the experience possible; Jafar Bhai - whose example helped you believe that difficult things were possible, Rajan ji, the guides, the porters, the doctors, friends walking ahead and behind you. You don’t remember every painful step. You remember all the people who walked beside you.

Standing at Everest Base Camp is hard to describe. There was excitement and relief; but more than anything, gratitude. Looking around at familiar faces, I realized the summit wasn’t the real achievement. The journey together was.

 At the Everest Base Camp summit : The whole team celebrating the moment → Bala and Jafar Bhai, the ring leaders, who led from the front and turned a dream into reality

Looking Back

If you ask me what EBC was like, I would just say it’s a lot like a marathon: the pain fades, and the memories remain. Our final evening in Kathmandu was the perfect ending; after days of dusty boots and wool layers, everyone showed up showered and almost unrecognizable, like we were meeting all over again, with stories that would last a lifetime.

I’m grateful to Bala for dreaming this up; to Rajan Ji for flawless planning and a reassuring “Hari Om” each morning; to Jafar Bhai for quietly inspiring confidence; to our doctors and our porters and guides for their care, strength, and humility; to Group 3 for showing me what it means to lead in the mountains; and most of all, to Arti, Ayush, and Arjun for saying “yes.”

Everest gave us breathtaking mountains. But the people gave us unforgettable memories.

Years from now, I may not remember every tea house or how many kilometers we walked. But I’ll always remember the laughter, the shared meals, the morning prayers, the quiet strength of our porters and guides, and forty-seven ordinary people who became one extraordinary family. Because in the end, the mountain teaches you the same lesson that life and a marathon does:

You never summit alone. Your legs may carry you up the mountain, but its your family, friends, and loved ones who carry you to the summit.

 

One last gathering in Kathmandu → clean clothes, certificates in hand, and hearts full : the crazy bunch that endured, inspired, and laughed its way to Everest Base Camp, carrying memories we'll cherish for a lifetime !!!

Appendix : A Few More Clicks From The Trail

Trails That Test You. Views That Reward You

 

The People Between The Peaks - Kids Led The Way, All Along