You’d think after summiting Kala Patthar at 1 AM, shooting the Milky Way over Everest, trail running back down at dawn, and getting maybe two hours of sleep total, Nicholas would take the easy hike to Thukla and, I don’t know, rest.
You’d be wrong.
See, with only two porters left for the four of us, the bags were overloaded. We hadn’t packed light. Five large duffels, two porters. Our guys, Kerman and Naben, are absolute machines. Either of them can carry three bags, probably four, without breaking a sweat. It wasn’t a problem.
But a few days earlier, Nicholas had tried on Kerman’s namlo, and it planted an idea.
What’s a Namlo?#
A namlo is the traditional Nepali porter carrying system. It’s a woven strap that loops around your forehead, with the load hanging on your back. No shoulder straps. No hip belt. No frame. Just a strap across your forehead and the full weight of whatever you’re carrying pulling on your neck. The porters use these to haul 30, 40, sometimes 60+ kilos through the Himalayas. It looks like it shouldn’t work, but the biomechanics are actually clever. The head strap channels the weight axially down the spine, the strongest load-bearing column in the body. You lean forward to keep the center of gravity over your feet, and the weight distributes straight down through your skeleton instead of pulling backward on your shoulders like a backpack does. In some ways it’s more efficient, especially on steep terrain. It just requires neck muscles that most people haven’t developed since infancy.
Nicholas tried Kerman’s a few days ago and thought: “That’s not so bad.”
Famous last words.
The Pitch#
“Hey DB, can you have the porters make me a namlo? I want to carry my own bag to Thukla.”
DB, who by this point had learned to take Nicholas seriously no matter how insane the request, still said no. “No, no, no, bad idea.”
Nicholas insisted. “Let me try. If it doesn’t work, they take my bag back. No problem.”
DB relented. The porters fashioned a namlo, found the lightest duffel (still sizable), and strapped it on.
The Hike#
Nicholas took off ahead with the porters while the rest of the group stayed back with DB for the normal pace. The porters powered along, taking breaks, trading snacks, and generally having a good time. Nicholas kept up.
The namlo wasn’t terrible. Definitely awkward on the neck, using muscles that don’t normally get invited to the party. The balance was tricky. And you couldn’t look up at anyone on the trail. You just had to keep your head down and march. But the weight was manageable, and the four hours to Thukla went by.
The best part was the double-takes. Every guide and porter on the trail did the same thing: glance at Nicholas, look away, then snap back and stare. All the porters here are clean-shaven local men. Nicholas is a white guy with two weeks of trail scruff on his face, hauling a duffel on a namlo like he belongs. He did not belong. Everyone knew it. But he was doing it, so they just stared.
At one point, the other two porters went on ahead after lunch and Nicholas was on his own. He pulled up to one of the porter rest stops, a place where they set down their loads on stone ledges. It was snowing. One other porter was resting there.
Nicholas dropped his bag like he’d done it a thousand times, then coughed a few times, clearing his lungs from the cold air. The other porter looked at him. Did a double-take. Then reached into his bag, pulled out a half-finished Coke, and offered it to Nicholas.
Apparently, it’s pretty easy to get adopted into the porter community. Just show up with a namlo and trail scruff.
They made it to Thukla by the afternoon. Surprisingly, Nicholas’s neck was totally fine. The namlo did its job. What got him were the shoulder straps, which left bruises where the bag shifted against them. But he’d carried his own bag the whole way, and somewhere on that trail, for a few hours at least, he wasn’t a tourist. He was just another guy hauling gear through the mountains.