So it was that we had our first encounter with the infamous shepherds, while Pat and I were laying on the grass drying our socks and watching the "Monster" boulder.  Three scrappy looking fellows approached us, carry several water jugs and towing a goat on a leash.  What to do – should we hide our gear, run for cover, pretend to be asleep? Pat and I tried to play it cool as they sat down next to us and offered us a sketchy looking drink as a gesture of friendship.  “Be careful Freddie”, Pat whispered between his teeth. “These guys aren’t just crafty, they’re cunning.” 

I’m still not sure what happened next, but within fifteen minutes one of them had appropriated Dave’s MP3 player, I had given another my two lighters and a pen, we were officially made blood brothers to the shepherds  – and we were all smashed.  

Luckily we made it to basecamp the next day, a bit tired and hung-over, but having nevertheless succeeded in the first goal of expedition climbing. 

Whiteout storms, splitter cracks and virgin Himlayan summits – stay tuned for it all in Freddie’s Problog 5.

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