Hoosiers caught in Nepal quake: 'a life-changing event'

When they landed in the Nepali village of Lukla by helicopter, the six Hoosiers and five other adventurers eagerly awaited a life-changing experience.

Led by David Carter of Indianapolis, they met with their Sherpa guides before embarking on the roughly 38-mile hike that would take them from Lukla to the Everest Base Camp. They are trekkers, not mountaineers, but the popular village-to-village trip a world away still requires hiking about 17,500 feet up.

Anticipation bubbled among the group members in the early days of the trip that began April 19. Along the way they would stop for lunches highlighted by mango tea, snap awe-inspiring photos of the picturesque countryside and take an acclimatization hike under clear blue skies to prepare for the more physically demanding portions of the journey.

But on day six, everything changed.

As they traveled a road between the villages of Dughla and Lobuche, an earthquake rocked Nepal.

As the ground shook and swayed beneath their feet, the trekkers knew they were experiencing a temblor. Unknown was its 7.8 magnitude, an avalanche at base camp and ultimately a death toll of at least 7,500.

From that moment on their journey became a tale of two treks. The thrill they experienced on the way up was replaced by tension on the way down.

Self-discovery was supplanted by self-preservation.

The quake

The trekkers initially didn't know what to make of the tremors they felt April 25 on the road to Lobuche.

"I thought I had vertigo for about 10 seconds, and I didn't want to say anything to anybody," said Carter, who heads an Indianapolis building materials supplier. "But then I realized, after hearing the rock falling, that we were in a major earthquake. It was an eye-opener."

Indianapolis attorney John Mead suspected that the loss of balance he felt was the result of sickness caused by the altitude.

"We're up around 14 or 15 thousand feet there, so a lot of what you talk about is how to acclimatize and how to recognize the signs of acute mountain sickness and things like that. As soon as the earth starts moving, you're losing your sense of balance, and you think, 'Oh great, I'm sick,' " Mead said. "But then you realize that everybody around you is also moving, and they're gripping your shoulder with this really tight hand. Then you realize, 'OK, it's not me. It's an earthquake.' "

When the swaying stopped, members of the group who were from California said the magnitude felt like at least 6.0.

"I think it took us all by surprise, and then we had to process it very quickly," said Ace Yakey, vice president for community development at Lilly Endowment. "It was kind of like, 'Wow, this is what we've been through, and we need to keep going up.'"

They pushed ahead until the magnitude of what they experienced became all too clear later that evening.

"It didn't occur to us that this would be a major casualty event until we got to Lobuche and we saw the damage," Carter said. "A few hours later we saw the Sherpas coming down, and we heard from a Westerner and then some other Sherpas that there were a lot of people killed at base camp."

The news loomed heavy over the group. Before the earthquake, the trekkers had discussed whether to pick up the pace to get to base camp a day early. They missed being buried alongside other trekkers by about 24 hours.

"I think at the time you don't really process it. I think we've all had opportunities to think back on it now," Yakey said. "Is it coincidence? Is it divine intervention? Is it karma? I think it's a combination of those things."

A long trek home

Lobuche became their first opportunity to reach out to loved ones back home. The village had intermittent Internet access.

"I think in our messages to them we were trying to be reassuring. Telling them that we were fine, telling them that everyone was healthy and we were in good hands," Mead said. "I think their messages back to us were them trying to be reassuring, as well. They were saying, 'We're praying for you, we're thinking about you, come back safe.'"

Thousands of people in the country were dead. Aftershocks became too numerous to count. The Hoosier trekkers were more than 7,700 miles from home.

Carter said the group now had a new mission: "Get the hell out of Lobuche."

The Sherpas worked selflessly to get the group out of Nepal. Two of the Sherpas lost their homes, but they never left Carter's group to tend to their own matters.

The group made its way miles south to the village of Pheriche, a town that closed after the quake. Again the Sherpas stepped in, getting on the phone and finding a place for the group to rest for the night.

A 6.7-magnitude aftershock shook the village as they checked in.

"Everything is shaking, one of the retaining walls comes down, and you're just tense the whole time because you don't know how badly damaged the building is, you don't know when the next quake of aftershock is going to come," Mead said. "... It's very hard to just shut down."

Even sleep had taken on a new meaning. The word was now being used to describe the act of sitting in a relaxed position while still wearing hiking gear. As they rested, trekkers kept an arm or leg placed in a position to provide leverage so they could vault upright and run toward the nearest exit at a moment's notice.

The safer option of sleeping outside on the road back to Lukla was out of the question because they lacked tents. They instead slept in any available structure, and as they entered, they discussed escape routes and rally points as casually as they discussed the location of the bathroom.

The trekkers' arrival in Lukla four days after the quake brought little relief. With helicopters being sequestered to handle earthquake support and rescue efforts, the planned extraction point was surrounded by questions of how and when the group would be able to return home.

As they waited for word of a flight, the adventurers had a goodbye party for their Sherpas and spent time chatting with others marooned by the ordeal.

The next day a helicopter arrived. It flew the group to Kathmandu April 30. On May 2 the Hoosiers took a plane back home.

Aftershocks

The trekkers made it home to Indianapolis on Sunday night. They are still adjusting to life off the trail.

Yakey said the experience has a lasting effect.

"You can't explain it. ... Sometimes the littlest things make the most sense, and sometimes they make no sense at all. And it's about how you process that when you come back from trips or adventures like this," Yakey said. "You never work your way totally through that. It makes you … you're different."

Their thoughts also remain with the people of Nepal struggling with loss of life, property and financial stability. The trekkers are trying to figure out the best way to give back.

"Tourism, trekking and climbing is pretty much Nepal's only industry," Mead said. "It's the only thing that brings in outside money other than foreign aid, so major catastrophes like this can really shake the foundation of the country — all the way down to the individual lodge owners, to the Sherpas who guide you on treks to the guys who own the cows that carry your bags."

Carter said while finding the words to describe how they feel after the trip remains difficult, he is certain that it has brought the trekkers closer together.

"We know that we've been through something quite unique," he said. "This was a life-changing event, and you don't realize how much it changes you until maybe six months or a year after the trip. You still think about it."

USA Today contributed to this story. Call Star reporter Justin L. Mack at (317) 444-6138. Follow him on Twitter: @justinlmack.