When the Mountain Hits Back - Ross De Vincentiis

26/06/2025

We were en route to Nepal’s Khumbu region for Mountain Tribe’s flagship Everest Base Camp and Three Passes trek. After eight months of build-up training in Melbourne, our group of ten was fit, prepared, and buzzing with anticipation.

What we didn’t expect was to land in a city underwater.

Unseasonal post-monsoon rains had hit Kathmandu hard. Streets were flooded. Power was patchy. And flights to our starting point - Lukla - were grounded. We were rerouted to Ramechhap, a remote airstrip deep in the lower hills. One night became two. We waited in uncertainty, with little electricity and no clear answer on when - or if - we’d get into the mountains.

It was during that wait, swatting at mosquitoes in the heat, that I was likely bitten - and unknowingly infected with dengue fever. At the time, I felt fine. Focused. Just itching to get moving.

However, I began experiencing a persistent fatigue by day three in the mountains. Assuming it was a minor infection, I took antibiotics and pressed on. But the symptoms escalated - fever, headaches, and overwhelming exhaustion. I continued, believing it would pass.

After all, I’d been at altitude many times before. I knew how this worked.

Or so I thought.

The Line Between Tough and Foolish

By the time we reached the summit of Chukhung Ri, I was in trouble. My head was pounding so badly I could barely see. My thoughts were scrambled, though I didn’t realise how far gone I was until later. My breath was short. My energy gone.

I descended to Dingboche on the back of a donkey. The plan was to rest, regroup. But the fever worsened. I sat sweating bullets in a t-shirt while others were zipped up in down jackets. At 4,410m, I was overheating in the cold. I didn’t notice the problem. Even when the nosebleeds started, it didn’t register.

Our team’s training in self-reliance proved invaluable. Our experienced local guides took control, coordinating with Global Rescue and managing logistics. Within hours, I was evacuated by helicopter to a hospital in Kathmandu.

The diagnosis was a combination of high-altitude cerebral and pulmonary oedema, dengue fever, and a streptococcal infection. Had we delayed further, the outcome could have been far worse.

What Held Us Together

While I recuperated in hospital, the team pressed on, completing the trek with resilience and unity. They crossed Kongma La, Cho La, reached Gokyo, and traversed Renjo La before descending through Namche.

They completed the trek. Together. Without their lead guide.

Their success wasn’t just about fitness. It was about mindset. Over multiple weeks at high altitude, things go wrong. Energy dips. Weather turns. You get tired. People get sick. What counts is how you respond - as individuals, and as a unit.

We’d trained them not just for the trail, but for this. And when they needed it, they stepped up.

A Hard-Won Lesson

There’s a romantic idea of the Himalayas - windblown prayer flags, golden summits, that vast, quiet beauty. Those moments are real. But so are the hard ones. The unpredictable ones. The ones that ask more than you thought you had.

The mountains will test you - not just physically, but mentally and emotionally. They don’t care about your plans. They’ll find your weak spot. And if you’re lucky, they’ll give you the lesson without the full consequence.

This was one of those trips. A tough one. But also a revealing one.

It taught me a lot about leadership - including the need to let go when it’s time to step back. About systems - and how they matter most when things go sideways. And about the kind of strength that doesn’t get talked about enough: humility, trust, and the ability to hand over the reins.

This trip also taught me the power of a cohesive team.

The Road Ahead

I’ll head back to the Himalayas again this year. With more experience, sure - but also with more respect for what these mountains ask of us.

If you’re planning your own expedition, remember this: it’s not just about summits or scenery. It’s about being ready when the plan doesn’t hold. It’s about having the right people around you, the right structure under you, and the awareness to know when to dig in - and when to call it.

The mountains reveal our true selves - not only in moments of triumph but also in times of adversity.

Ross is the founder of Rossfit and Mountain Tribe a Melbourne-based trekking and climbing company. They guide teams through structured training programs, culminating in transformative mountain adventures.