Entries from Expedition Dispatches

The daily blogs from this trip have been a huge hit at home it seems. And while many of you are reading them each day to see what we have been up to, we have also been reading your comments. They have brought tears to our eyes from both laughter (looking at you Rosie) and sentiment. 

What the daily blogs don't show you is the day to day life we have experienced together. This much time together has created a unique bond. We show up early for each meal, not because we have to but because we genuinely like spending time together. We get our daily dose of Piper over our morning coffee/tea and while none of us have met her, she is our favourite dog on this trip. We know one another's breakfast order by heart with one particular order even turning into a nickname (miss you Pancake Fred). 

We know if we see any animal on the trail that Steven is going to try and pet it and Vanessa is most likely going to be taking pictures of it.  We know to never leave our phones unattended around Brian but if this happens we know the resulting photos will be hilarious. Some days our biggest decision is what kind of tea we want to have and with the ongoing fresh mint shortage this area seems to be experiencing we have had lemon ginger honey tea almost as many times as Jack has asked if it's finally time to pull out the microspikes. 

We almost always end each night with a card game where inexplicably Rick always has Aces. We were all blessed to be part of Kevin's journey to basecamp, fulfilling a promise he had made to his daughter.

We are a competitive bunch and while this has led to many aggressive games of 22 - now shortened to 12 and including rock paper scissors for "funsies" it has also led us to push one another to keep going on the days when it was hard to keep moving and breathing. Some days it's the small things that help like Vanessa's dancing while on trail or Brian pretending to be on a rollercoaster when crossing a bridge, or watching Tim and Fred's friendship blossom in real time (still is and will always be my favourite TV show).

The real joy in this trip has been the people. Our amazing team of porters who carried our heavy gear with smiles on their faces. Our local guides who arranged and rearranged plans constantly for us, kept us on schedule and made sure none of us were trampled by Yaks. Our climbing guides who stayed up all night to set the fixed lines on Lobuche then successfully led the team to the top. Our amazing guide Jess whose sense of humour was a bright spot on many days.

Today we flew back to Kathmandu after 17 days in the Khumbu valley. The snack weight in our bags has been replaced by yak bells and Everest Outfit gear, although not as much as Tim who is an unofficial Everest Outfit influencer. Our bucket list has 1 or 2 extra check marks on it. 

For me this trip was a 30 year dream turned into reality. I knew it would be amazing but it turned out to be so much more. Chatter has now turned to which mountain we will climb next and if we are lucky enough we will climb together again.

RMI Climber Jen

Thursday, April 2, 2026

Hello there,

The trail from Namche to Lukla is long — longer than you remember — but yesterday it was lined with rhododendrons in full bloom, which makes just about any suffering tolerable. On the way down, we carried out bags of trash collected for the Sagarmatha Next and SPCC clean-up efforts. Small contribution, but it felt right to leave the trail a little better than we found it.

The real story of the day, though, happened at dinner.

In Lukla last night, we gathered around a shared table to honor the porters and guides who made this entire expedition possible. These are the people who carried our loads, knew the trail in every kind of weather, kept us moving when we were tired, and kept us laughing throughout. No summit happens without them — and we wanted to make sure they knew we knew that.

The meal turned into dancing. Someone produced a boom box, and for many hours after dinner, we celebrated together — not as clients and crew, but as a team that had been through something real. It was one of those nights you don’t want to end.

Tomorrow we fly to Kathmandu!

— RMI Guide Jess Wedel & the Team

Namaste!

If the past few weeks have been defined by purpose and altitude, today was defined by the sweet relief of coming down from both.

The trail from Pangboche to Namche is deceptive — one might assume a descent would be all downhill, but the Khumbu has a sense of humor. As the saying here goes, “sometimes up, sometimes down.” Legs went to autopilot, brains finally went offline, and the team moved smoothly through the mountains with something that felt a lot like ease.

Arriving at Namche on the back end of an expedition hits differently than arriving on the front — the altitude is kinder, the breathing comes easier, and the body quietly begins to recover.

We made a beeline for Eat Smart, a welcome break from teahouse fare: barbecue chicken sandwiches, wraps, and a freshly baked matcha cheesecake. The afternoon was spent wandering Namche’s vibrant streets — yak bells, hand-painted art, and prayer beads found their way into packs.

Tonight, there’s talk of moving our nightly card games to the Irish Pub or maybe the Dancing Yak. Or if some people’s dreams come true — both. Time will tell. We’ve spent weeks locked in on our goals. It’s nice to just… be here.

RMI Guide Jess Wedel and the team

Our McKinley Prep Course wrapped up a highly successful few days of training in the Edith Creek Basin. The team practiced sled pulling, camp craft, crevasse rescue, and a range of essential alpine skills they’ll rely on this upcoming season during their climb of the West Buttress of Mount McKinley.

A big thanks to experienced lead guides Mike King and Dan May for sharing their knowledge and helping the team sharpen their skills. With a mix of sunny skies and periods of low visibility, conditions provided a realistic preview of what life can be like on the slopes of McKinley—making the training both challenging and invaluable.

Hello from Pangboche.

I’m writing this from a tea house window watching snow fall on the valley below, which feels like the appropriate punctuation to a trip that has given us weather in every form except usually the one we actually wanted.

Until yesterday.

Yesterday, the mountains gave us a gift.

Summit day was the most sun we’ve seen this entire trip. No wind. Perfect snow conditions — more coverage on the upper mountain than our Sherpa guide team has seen in years, which turned the typical steep, slabby rock into a beautiful snow climb. We got extraordinarily lucky, and we knew it.

We left high camp just after 3:00 a.m., headlamps on, the dark enormous around us. Seven and a half hours later, the team stood on the summit of Lobuche.

What happened in between is harder to put into words.

Hard things are hard. I know — profound. A quote we’ve joked about but actually hits. There’s something that happens on a mountain at altitude, in the dark, with steep terrain above you and your legs already tired, where that simple truth becomes the whole truth. The technical sections near the top demanded everything. Every step deliberate, every breath rationed. And I’ll be honest: I did not stop talking. Probably to a degree that could be classified as unhinged. “You’ve got this.” “Dig deep.” “Keep moving.” “You’ve got this.” If any of my team is reading this — I’m only slightly sorry.

What I watched in return was something I don’t take for granted, no matter how many times I get to see it. People tapping into strength they didn’t know they had. Facing real fear — of heights, of the unknown, of their own limits — and stepping forward anyway. Tears behind glasses. Shaking legs that kept moving. At one point I looked up through the thin air and saw a climber moving through steep, challenging terrain with a power and grace that stopped me. Elegant and strong in exactly the moment it was hardest to be either.

That’s what this mountain asks for. That’s what this team gave.

By summit, every one of us was running on fumes — the kind of tired that lives in your bones and doesn’t apologize. The Khumbu cough we’d somehow dodged the entire trip? Consider it found. Turns out all it needed was one very long, very hard day at altitude to make its entrance. Worth it. Completely worth it.

We returned to high camp, celebrated, and slept the deep sleep of people who had earned it.

Today we descended to Pangboche, where it is snowing (of course it is) and where I am sitting warm and still and deeply grateful.

To the families reading this: your people were extraordinary. They showed up, they dug deep, and they stood on top of a very big mountain in the Himalayas. More heart and courage on this team than I’ve seen in a long time.

Everyone is safe, everyone is proud, and everyone is very ready for a hot shower.

And we’re very, very glad to be sleeping below 14,000ft for the first time in 8 days.

RMI Guide Jess Wedel and the Lobuche team

Monday, March 30, 2026 - 3:30 am PT

The RMI Lobuche team reached the summit of Lobuche peak at 20,075' today with seven climbers and four Sherpa.  RMI Guide Jess Wedel reported a great summit day and by far the most sun they have had this trip. Everyone is tired after a hard effort, but doing well.

They have returned to High Camp to spend another night. Tomorrow they will descend to Pangboche.

Nice work team!

Photos courtesy: Guide Lopsang - High Altitude Dreams

Sunday, March 29, 2026 - 4:04 am PT

Big day today.

We made our move up to Lobuche High Camp — and the mountain wasted no time letting us know what we’re here for. 

The route climbs steep, loose rock that demands your full attention with every step. No crampons yet, just patience, footwork, and a little faith in your trekking poles. Our first real test before the climb, and the team passed it with flying colors.

High camp is something else. Settle into tents, pack our summit packs and we’re about to have an early dal bhat dinner. There’s more snow here than I’ve ever seen and that will make for a fun snow climb instead of the typical steep and slabby rock.

Cross your fingers the cloud we are in lifts! The forecast tomorrow looks like the most sun of the trip so let’s see. 

The mood tonight is that good kind of nervous. Excited chatter, quiet moments packing, a little bit of both happening in the same person at the same time. Summit day is close. We’re ready.

RMI Guide Jess Wedel

Saturday, March 28, 2026 - 11:50 pm PT

We made it.

After 10 days of walking, acclimatizing, laughing, and eating a truly impressive amount of dal bear, we set foot on the Khumbu Glacier and officially arrived at Everest Base Camp.

The place is equal parts humbling and chaotic. Bright expedition tents stretch across the moraine in every direction, prayer flags snap in the wind, and somewhere beneath our feet, a glacier is slowly doing its thing. The altitude — 5,364 meters or nearly 17,500 ft — makes itself known. Breathing is a gentle reminder that you’ve earned the view.

The team arrived strong. There were big smiles, a few quiet moments just staring up at the icefall, and many tears.

Our time at camp was full of rest, snow and even some warm showers (picture a yellow tent heated by the radiation of the sun and a big blue bucket of hot water).

On day 2, we turned our attention to training
 — ascenders, rappelling, and getting our glacier legs under us before we make a push on Lobuche. We set up circuits and worked through the systems, and the team did great. There is something about clipping into a rope on real ice that makes everything feel a little more real — in the best way.

Our base camp staff outdid themselves. Incredible food, warm dining tent, zero complaints from the peanut gallery. Our crew works so hard behind the scenes to make the expedition run, and our time at camp was a good reminder of just how much goes into it. Genuinely grateful.

We’re on our way to Lobuche high camp now, a quick stop at Lobuche (the village) for lunch before we begin the big climb.

RMI Guide Jess and the Lobuche team

RMI Guide Jess Wedel checked in a with a quick message to let us know that the team reach Everest Base Camp just before the snow began to fall.  

This morning I tried to hype the team up. Lobuche and Gorekshep are tough — extraordinarily cold, high altitude, the same food on repeat, frozen toilets. You start to miss home a little more than usual.

The team collectively rated my hype talk. 3/10, room for improvement. But they understood the assignment. We stayed positive, we acknowledged the suffering, and we remembered that we’re all in this together.

So we put on our boots, pulled our buffs up, and got walking. No feeling is final — just because today we feel the weight of it all a little more doesn’t mean tomorrow won’t bring something different. Everest Base Camp is right there. That’s how it goes out here.

To Gorekshep we walked, pulling over every few minutes for the hundreds of yaks returning from EBC. The Khumbu Glacier stretched out to our right, and above it, Nuptse — hanging seracs everywhere you look, black and white rock swirled together like a painting. And then, far in the distance: tiny yellow tents dotting a cold, grey landscape. Base camp.

The clouds rolled in (predictably), and after lunch we decided to skip the hike up to Kala Patthar. Better to stay dry, stay warm, and save all we have for the bigger goals ahead.

This afternoon we’re buried in every layer of down we brought. Cards are shuffling next to me as I write this. Tonight: Word Salad — acting out words and matching them, at 17,000 feet, with brains running on less oxygen than they’re used to. It’s going to be beautifully chaotic.

We cannot wait to reach base camp tomorrow. Two nights there, some ice and glacier training on the Khumbu — it’s always a highlight.

Fair warning: there’s a good chance we’ll lose wifi and cell service for the two nights at base camp. If the dispatches go quiet, don’t worry — and if you haven’t heard from your person, that’s why. We’re good.

Here’s to keeping the dream alive and embracing the suck — a motto that’s earning its keep out here.

RMI Guide Jess Wedel and the team