For a Free and Prosperous Nepal

As my plane made its descent into KTM, I couldn’t wipe the smile from my face. I texted my wife a picture that you can see from the window along with my observation, “The entrance to Nepal is still guarded by giants.”

I traveled to Nepal a decade ago to speak at a conference (Atlas Network’s Asia Liberty Forum) and did some trekking not too far from Pokhara in the Annapurna range afterward. Kathmandu is exactly as I remember it—a bustling city with throngs of motorcycles weaving like bees past cars and around pedestrians. (As a side note, 2015 was the year of the tragic earthquake and corresponding avalanche in April that took the lives of at least 22 people on Everest and nearly 9,000 others in the broader region. I was there in January, a few months before the devastation.)

Upon landing this time, I immediately noticed thick smog and serious air quality issues rendering Kathmandu "very unhealthy" with AQ index in the mid-to-high 300s. I grew up in Los Angeles, California, so my lungs have been conditioned since childhood to survive these things, but this haze was less than ideal given our imminent exposure to what is already too-thin air. Wife reported that Kathmandu was ranked the world's most polluted city this week.

Following a hot shower and changing out of travel clothes, I headed over to Samriddhi Foundation, which is a sister think tank whose apt motto is For a Free and Prosperous Nepal. I originally met its Co-Founder and Executive Director Robin Sitoula when I was first here in 2015. Samriddhi does amazing work and is improving lives and laws and increasing liberty and opportunity in this promising country.

It was an honor to reunite with Robin (whom I had seen more recently last fall in New York City) and to converse with Samriddhi’s impressive team before giving my speech, which was entitled: What Public Policy Advocates Can Learn from Mountain Climbing. The event was well attended and the audience engaged, asking numerous questions about economics, public policy, U.S./Nepal relations (including potential tariffs), and—of course—my imminent climb of Everest.

Robin treated me to a delicious Nepali dinner of Dal Bhat (lentils and steamed rice), vegetables, curried meat, and pickles. I bid them all farewell with a full stomach, heart, and mind. Thank you Samriddhi for your tremendous hospitality and warm welcome back to this breathtakingly beautiful multi-ethnic, multi-lingual, multi-religious, and multi-cultural landlocked nation squeezed between India and Tibet (Autonomous Region in China).

Returning to the hotel, I finally met Pasang Dawa Sherpa, who goes by PaDawa and is my private guide for our one-on-one ascent of Everest. His illustrious reputation preceded him, so I expected to emanate respect toward him. What was surprising, though, was how emotionally moved I was receiving his kind hug and shy smile after I introduced myself and bowed with my hands pressed together on my heart in the most profound Namaste greeting I have ever extended—experiencing kismet, friendship, and trust simultaneously.

Those of you who either participate in or else follow our sport and/or international mountaineering news already know that PaDawa is a living legend. He has successfully summited Everest 27 times — the second most in history. His steely resolve and physical capabilities are underscored by his quiet demeanor and humility.

How lucky am I to have him as my personal guide for this epic expedition? Some people may assume we hire Sherpas to work FOR us. To reject that arrangement from the start, I immediately began calling him "boss" and treating him accordingly—he is the master and I am the apprentice in this endeavor. I also insist that he will be the one telling me what to do, not the other way around.

Although he knows some English, his first language is Sherpa, which is spoken only. I asked him to teach me some Sherpa words right away so that we could communicate better during our journey together: thank you (thuche)—again, Sherpa isn’t written, so I am guessing the spellings based upon English phonetics—and hello/greeting (tashi delek), etc.

I learned that PaDawa is married and very proud of his grown son, who is a Ghurka living in the U.K., before a larger group of us who are coordinating our various logistics and programs through Climbing the Seven Summits (CTSS) headed out to explore Kathmandu and visit the renowned UNESCO World Heritage Site—Boudha Stupa—in front of which I am posing with my buddy Kevin Sánchez (we met in 2023 climbing Vinson Massif in Antarctica with the iconic Vern Tejas and Jangbu Sherpa).

If you're wondering about my curious choice of yellow chinos for this particularly fun night on the town, get in line. My family and friends have already roasted me and sought to find out whether I was going golfing, to brunch, or attending the White House Easter Egg Roll. Alas, the yellow is a bit of an inside joke and foreshadowing symbol. Sánchez and I had affectionately referred to each other as Big Bird One (or BB1—me) and Big Bird Two (BB2—him) because of our respective puffy yellow summit suits. The climbers appropriately made good fun of my 'fit and wondered whether the yaks might charge me the way bulls notoriously attack the color red. We shall find out soon enough, I suppose! For now, BB1 out.