Nathaniel Merriam Friday, May 14 Everest Base Camp, Nepal

Some days are horrible, and some days just seem great despite the rough parts. Today is one of the latter, I'm happy to report. Despite ongoing troubles of every kind, from equipment failure to troublesome snow showers, we've had an excellent day all around.

We spent some time this morning working out a power solution so that we could run the satellite phones tonight. Generally you have to turn off the generators after 8 or 9 o'clock so that people in other camps can sleep -- if you don't, you may well find that your generator spontaneously develops a leak in the fuel line or loses a critical part. So we don't run our generators late unless there's a medical emergency.

But it's tough being popular -- Chris Macedonia is going to be interviewed live on NPR for their Science Friday radio program, which is in the afternoon in the states. The problem is that afternoon in the states is midnight in Nepal, and in order to run the satellite phones we need power -- and a fair amount of it to last an hour. We put our heads together and came up with a solution that's not completely hare-brained. We've gathered pretty much every large battery in the camp and are charging them off the generators as I type. Come this evening, we'll wire them all together and cross our fingers that no one is electrocuted. If we can clear that hurdle, we'll be able to get Chris his time in the sun (although given how cold it will be at that time no one is envious of his staying up late).

The email response to my last journal, the Story of Base Camp, was overwhelmingly positive, which leads me to believe either my audience consists entirely of 12-year-olds or that the Yale community is nowhere near as sophisticated as one might imagine.

I also appreciate the folks who have let me know more than two people are reading this -- although there's not enough young ladies in that group (believe me when I say that most sailors would be shamed by how crude folks get up here after a month of isolation). I've also gotten some criticism that my photo makes me look like a convict -- thanks, mom! I'll see what we can do about getting a new one up here, but I'm not certain I look too fetching at the moment (we haven't bathed in a few weeks, and I can't remember the last time I saw a can of deodorant). Fortunately for our more sensitive viewers, we're not broadcasting in smell-o-vision or we'd probably be subject to lawsuits.

On the topic of smell, if you want to really experience the thrill of base camp, wear the same clothes for a few weeks without bathing and sleep in a small, confined area. We refer to our sleeping bags as fart sacks, and with good reason -- I think we'll have a pyre to celebrate the end of the mission, and we'll include the vast majority of objects we've come into contact with. We all left bags of clothes and personal items in Katmandu so that when we get back to "civilization" we won't be shot on sight (or smell).

On the topic of 12-year-old boys, we've had a lot of questions on a few topics that we might as well address. First off -- the bathroom. Now, you all saw the photo of the toilet tent at base camp, and I explained how you basically have a bucket, the contents of which have to be carried off the mountain by some sherpa who isn't paid enough. That's actually a pretty nice setup -- most of the time we had to use holes dug in the ground or your standard squat-toilets on the trail. I myself have soiled more than one holy mountain (I don't know how you can avoid it, every mountain around is holy!) I'm comforted by the fact that there is usually evidence that I was not the first in that location.

Every night when you go to bed you bring at least two bottles in your sleeping bag. One bottle is filled with warm water for drinking in the night, and you have to sleep with it in the bag to keep it from freezing. The other bottle is empty when you go to bed. It is not necessarily so when you awaken, if you catch my meaning. This bottle you really don't want to freeze, because you may need it again sooner than you think. Of course, you don't want to spill it, either, so filling that bottle is about as much concentration as you'll give any one task on the trip. Truth be told, I have three empty bottles in my sleeping bag, and I came perilously close to filling two one night. I was glad I had that third for back up.

Now it should go without saying that the bottle you drink out of should be physically very different from the bottle you fill yourself. The last thing you want is to confuse the two in the middle of the night and drink out of the wrong one. It's not as uncommon as you might think (or hope).

Hopefully this will satisfy all the morbid curiosity people have expressed in the past few days. Keep that viewer mail coming in to NMerriam@ArtBoy.org!

Nathaniel