On trek to Everest, a chance to push boundaries, find peace

EVEREST BASE CAMP: We reach Everest Base Camp on a sunny but chilly afternoon, after an eight-day trek that stretched our physical and mental limits.

Aching knees from steep descents and headaches from mild altitude sickness are forgotten as the yellow and orange tents for the summit-bound — framed by some of Himalaya's highest snow-capped peaks — come into view.

We stay for only about an hour on a hill overlooking the camp, pitched near Everest's Khumbu icefall. We take photos, along with dozens of other amateur trekkers from across the globe, before hiking to the nearest lodge, about three hours away.

We're proud. We reached 5,364 metres (17,598 feet). That's roughly 550 metres (1,800 feet) higher than Mount Blanc, the tallest peak in the Alps. Getting to one of Nepal's most popular trekking destination also brings home a simple truth — it's the journey that matters.

The 90-kilometre (56-mile) hike to Base Camp from an airstrip in the mountain village of Lukla was a "real pain," says Wayne Pedersen, 57, a South African who works in Dubai. "But I never would have missed it because of what I got out it — the scenery, the beauty, the comradeship."

The payoff

The rewards of the 12-day trek become more apparent toward the end.

I'm stronger and more sure-footed. I fall into a rhythm as I plant my trekking poles on steep steps and push up without gasping for air.

The sights and sounds of the trail make up for any remaining discomfort.

Colorful prayer wheels whirl, powered by a small stream. Maroon-robed monks chant religious verses in the region's largest Buddhist monastery. A bird of prey glides above a canyon. Elsewhere, a group of Nepali men sit on the ground, gambling with dice and small shells.

We walk in silence at times, single file. There are no pinging iPhones here, no distractions. It's a chance to contemplate issues that get pushed aside in the day-to-day busy-ness of life.

In the best moments on the trail, it's peaceful.