Three for three. That was the goal. The Sherpa Memorial timelapse had worked. The Kala Patthar Milky Way over Everest had worked. One more clear night, one more shot, and Nicholas would have pulled off the entire astrophotography redemption arc.
The problem was that Nicholas had absolutely destroyed himself getting here. Back-to-back all-nighters, the EBC speed run, the Kala Patthar climb, and then four hours of porter duty with a namlo. He knew the overexertion at this altitude was probably going to get him sick. But tomorrow they were descending to Tengboche to meet Pokin, dropping to lower elevation, warm hotel, rest and recovery. If he was going to blow himself out, tonight was the night to do it.
The Scout#
As soon as he’d dropped off the porter bags, Nicholas went scouting. He’d noticed a hill right outside the hotel in Thukla, maybe two minutes away, that looked promising. Good framing on Ama Dablam, nice open sky.
It didn’t work. There was a light right where you didn’t want it, and it looked like it might be on someone’s property. Scrapped.
So he walked further, heading back along the route toward Dingboche, looking for higher ground. He found a hill about 30 to 40 minutes down the trail with a big rock at the top and the exact view he wanted.
The catch: getting there meant crossing a gorge. Thukla sits on the other side of a river, and they’re in the middle of building a suspension bridge over the ravine. The steel cables are strung across, but the bridge itself doesn’t exist yet. So for now, you have to hike all the way down from Thukla to the river, cross a tiny bridge at the bottom, and climb all the way back up the other side.
Forty minutes each way. With 25 pounds of camera gear. At night. After everything he’d already put himself through.
He skipped dinner. Went to bed. Set the alarm for 11 PM.
The Last Push#
When the alarm went off, Nicholas was extremely tempted to go back to sleep. He’d earned it. Every muscle in his body had earned it.
He looked out the window. Perfect conditions. Fresh coat of snow. Clear sky.
Up we got.
Down the ravine. Across the river. Up the other side. Found the hill. Climbed to the top. Forty minutes with the full kit. By now, the routine was dialed in. Emergency poncho blankets laid down as a ground layer. Sleeping bag on top. Camera on the tripod. Battery wrapped to keep it warm. Shot framed. Timelapse started. Six hours this time, running all the way through to dawn.
Then we crawled into the sleeping bag, tucked under the big rock to block the wind, and slept.
Actually slept. On a mountain. In the Himalayas. Under the stars. At altitude. While the camera clicked away every twenty seconds, frame after frame of the Milky Way rotating over the peaks.
About every hour, Nicholas would wake up, peek at the camera preview, confirm it was still working, and go back to sleep. Every time: stars. Working. Good. Sleep.
It was the longest, cleanest timelapse of the entire trip. The best weather. The best conditions. Six uninterrupted hours of clear sky.
Dawn#
Around 6 AM, with the sky brightening and breakfast at 6:30, Nicholas stopped the timelapse and packed everything up. Forty minutes back to Thukla. Down the hill, across the river, up the ravine. Back to the lodge just in time.
Three nights. Three successful shoots. The Astrosaster was fully redeemed.
Nicholas definitely knew he’d blown himself out. The overexertion, the altitude, the lack of sleep. It was going to catch up with him. But they were heading down today, back to Tengboche, back to Pokin, back to oxygen and warm rooms.
It was worth it. We got the shots.