Day 3: MingThatch Camp, 11,300 feet
It was 3 am on a cold windy night at 11,300 ft. As the moon rose from the east, my gaze followed the clear streak of the star-studded Milky Way. We had planned to wake up at this time to witness the night sky, but unluckily, only I did.
Writhing in pain, I squeezed my eyes and clutched onto my churning stomach with both hands as the altitude played havoc with my digestion. I had no choice but to leave the comfort of my sleeping bag and venture into the cold night. Under the tiny light of my headlamp, I went 10 meters down the hill to fetch a pale of water and climbed back to go to the tented restrooms to relieve myself.
However, it hadn't started that bad.