LOCALadk Magazine

LOCALadk 36 trail skirting or taking the river at times. The tempera- ture has risen, and I regret my choice of long tights and long sleeves. At this moment, I am considering stripping down to my undergarments. My stomach turned awhile before this point, and I have no desire to take in calories but am forcing down some liquid nu- trition. I do start up the next climb with Nicki, but she steadily pulls away as I slowly navigate steps of mud. By the time I reach the next pass at 15,200', it feels like I've spent more time starfished on the ground than actually hiking. I reach Night Halt 2 just before dark. I've made friends with a yak, emptied my GI tract from both ends, and have been joined by a Bhutanese local who started out excited to see me and has become obvi- ously worried about my well-being. I go directly to the medical tent where I'm joined by Luke Nelson, our fearless athlete leader, who informs me that a helicop- ter came and went twice today to drop off supplies. Previously we'd been told that if we wanted to drop from the event, we'd have an eight-day hike out via the way we came. The doctor on site diagnoses me with acute moun- tain sickness and dehydration. My oxygen saturation is acceptable at 89% (shout out to my fellow nurses who will think this is NOT acceptable) and after five attempts they're able to get an IV started. After a liter of fluid and some medications I'm able to keep warm broth down and I slink away to my tent for the night. At 4 AM, tea is delivered to my door. I roll over through waves of nausea, knowing my race is over. The night prior, the doctor and head of the army person- nel for this section separately spoke with me about the risks associated with continuing on. We would be hitting the high point on day three at 17,946' and again camping above 15,000'. There was no way to descend below tree line until day four, communication had been spotty with Night Halt 3, and if weather moved in, rescue chances were slim to none. The choice was mine, but it wasn't just about me. Continuing on meant I would put the group and the folks there to look out for us at risk. Army personnel were stationed at check- points and acted as sweepers, sometimes accompany- ing the last runners for hours. Through tears I watched the group start out up the Lunana Valley as I waited for a helicopter. Once in the air, we were back in Thimphu within 20 minutes, a stark contrast to the prior days. An unexpected end brings new perspectives That evening I attended dinner at the Royal Army Headquarters. As I was without my luggage, my new friend Vivi Tshering lent me a traditional Kira to wear, which to everyone's amusement I had put on back- wards. Just prior to sitting down for dinner, we were informed of the impending arrival of a surprise guest, his Majesty the King. "Don't be weird," whispers Luis Clock wise from lef t: Night Halt 1, photo credit Byron Powell. High altitude self portrait. Receiving medical treatment in the field.

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