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Russia, the Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo and Shanghai) advised me, "the worst that can happen is that you sprain your ankle or break a leg. The Sherpas are great! They'll be able to get you back to Kathmandu in a few days." On that hike I was in quest of a certain inheritance, not one calculated by material wealth, but rather by the numinous and the adventurous. If Edmund Hillary, Lowell Thomas, Lawrence of Arabia, Alan Shepherd, Amelia Earhart, Lewis and Clark and Marco Polo, not to mention my own guide, Tenzing Norgay, could venture to realms beyond their own, certainly I could make a modest effort. In the event, Norgay and I reached 19,000 feet, hiking up from our camp at 17,500 or so feet, a far cry from the summit he and Hillary had attained: 29,028 feet in 1953. I was feeling the possible effects of early altitude sickness, so we spent one additional night in the vicinity, returning rapidly to Tengboche Monastery (12,687 feet; see the accompanying photograph) and then onto Namche Bazaar (11,286 feet). There I spent my last night in the Everest region, leaving the next morning from what was then the highest, albeit minuscule, airport in the world, Syangboche (12,303 feet). The arrival some days earlier was harrowing, an understatement. The Hunt Expedition which supported Hillary's and Tenzing's ascent comprised 400 people, including 362 porters and 20 Sherpa guides. Mine included five porters and three yaks, two or three other factotums and the great guide himself. Organized forty years ago by a Nepal-based outfitter who began his career in the 1930s, my adventure reflected the aesthetic and atmosphere of that earlier era, hardly that of rock 'n' roll, circa 1970. I recall canned foods with "Bombay" printed on them in Edwardian fonts. HYLAND