Rest Day at Basecamp 4,200m

We’re currently at 4,200m altitude, where a breath gets you about 66% of the oxygen than it would at sea level. Your body needs to work extra hard to do anything, even just to keep you alive. The best way to acclimatise is to take a lot of rest (hence the rest day) and eat a LOT of high calorie food – my favourites are chocolates and jellies. On summit, we’ll be at 6,962m and the oxygen will drop to 43% so I’m really looking forward to an opportunity to stuff my face for a full day.

I woke up this morning to the sound of my tentmate snoring. This was disappointing as we’d made a pact that if he didn’t snore, I wouldn’t punch him while he slept. But when I opened my eyes he wasn’t even in the tent! I looked outside for him bit there was actually a helicopter landing 50 feet from my sleeping bag. I regretted getting my tentmate to stop snoring as he would easily have drowned out the sound of a landing helicopter.

The grocer and the IT guy took the idea of a rest day very seriously and realised early on that to enjoy it properly they would need somewhere to sit in the sun. Rather than borrowing the light plastic chairs from the mess tent, they spent the morning building ‘seats’ with the large rocks scattered around the camping area. It’s only with hindsight that I realised how much simpler it would be to borrow a chair as I did join them in building my own seat. Myself and the IT guy only built rough stools, while the grocer went all out to make himself an armchair complete with armrests, bottle holders and ergonomic lower back support. He decided he needed the extra lower back support after bending down to pick up the fifth boulder. If he ever gives up the grocery business, he is assured a successful future in the rock-based furniture business. IKEA must be terrified.
The IT guy wins today’s award for most innovative mid-trek gear adjustment. In Mendoza he bought a peaked cap with a neck cover to keep the sun off. Today he used a penknife to remove the entire top of the cap, leaving the top of his head completely exposed to the sun. Luckily when the sun is hot he can move the neck cover back up over his head. In one simple operation he has transformed a brand new and pointedly practical piece of headgear into a shitty and practically pointless piece of headgear. He’s also got sunburn.

In the afternoon we were told to prepare our high calorie snacks for the next eight days. A bag of snacks for each day, arranged for easy access depending on our location and activities that day. Advanced theoretical physics it was not. Yet I don’t think I’ve ever seen a group of adults (me included) get so excited, confused and stressed about filling plastic bags with sweets. If you’ve ever seen The Cube, The Krypton Factor or The Crystal Maze on TV, this was like a puzzle from one of those shows played out with Pic ‘n’ Mix sweeties. As I was nearing completion the head guide brought in a whole stack of new snacks making my entire planning system redundant. I nearly lost my mind. As I left the tent sometime later, one of the lads was emptying everything he had packed back onto the table to start again, and a friend patted him on the shoulder and murmured soft words of consolation.

It’s a little worrying that our success (and our survival) over the next week depends on us having access to the right equipment at the right time, but I panic when it comes to deciding whether I should pack a bag of Haribo or a chocolate bar to eat in 5 days time. Climbing mountains is harder than I thought.