Nathaniel Merriam Friday, May 21 Lobushe, Nepal

I think you would have great difficulty finding a more incongruous location on earth than where we are now. The Italian Pyramid is a research station in Lobuche, situated immediately above an inn that we camp near.

To set the stage, imagine walking down a valley straight out of the Planet of the Apes. As you flee your Gorilla and Chimp pursuers, the canyon walls pass above you on either side. After hours in this rocky wasteland, you see a glint of reflected light ahead. You eventually make out a huge steel and glass pyramid, seemingly dropped from the sky by some ironic giant.

The pyramid is as welcoming as it is unlikely. The glass walls allow the sun to heat the pyramid, and Peter, the proprietor, welcomes researchers with open arms (not to mention some darn good food). One side of the pyramid is covered with solar panels, producing 2000 watts of power on a clear day -- nearly enough power to run the stereo system Peter so kindly cranks up for us with some good music to help us through the day. This is not your father's research station.

The station is responsible for the inn, as well -- which means any researchers stopping by get treated to hot showers (mine was cold, but it got rid of my scent, so hopefully the Gorillas won't be able to track me).

Unfortunately this may be the last place we're able to send out email and updates. It depends how our schedule works out -- once we've hit the road we all get itchy to go home and see the people we thought we were sick of a month and a half ago. But we have to stop occasionally to break out the equipment and do our medical research, as well as to keep in contact with Yale so they don't believe we skipped out early to go to the Bahamas (and don't think we haven't considered some sort of a Capricorn-One scenario).

I want to thank all the folks who have sent email to us, and especially those deranged enough to claim repeated exposure to my journals. I'm not a medical doctor, but I do work for the Yale School of Medicine, and I strongly suspect that my journals will give you halitosis. But we appreciate your patronage nonetheless.

The Barenaked Ladies are seeing me through the trek from Base Camp. Note to the editors: the Barenaked Ladies are a band that has nothing to do with nudity or women. They're Canadian Men. Really.

I'm pretty surprised how hard the trek down has been so far. I mean, I feel pretty good, but I was expecting to feel better thanks to the miracle of acclimatization. We've only gone down 1000 vertical feet, and they tell me that I'll really start to feel turbocharged after our next day on the road. Apparently at that point the air feels so thick that it's like swimming after Base Camp. Then when we go up a hill I've been guaranteed that I'll feel like Superman, so stay tuned -- I may be asking for a refund on this ride!

We've been discussing our plans for what to do when we get back home. Javier and I have already made a pact that, after our arrival in the morning, we'll lunch at Wendy's, getting Bacon Cheeseburgers and Biggie sizing the fries and Coke (Dr Pepper for me, I'm a good Texas boy). Immediately following our gorging on unhealthy American food we will travel to the nearest cinema to view Star Wars: the Phantom Menace. We may see it twice. That night we will partake of genuine pizza. We will be sated. On the first night we will sleep and bathe, not necessarily in that order. Others are welcome to join our celebration, but you must be willing to understand (or at least bear with) why we will get perhaps too excited about the ketchup, or the hot buttered popcorn.

I'm starting to fantasize about Singapore Airlines and sitting in a chair for 30 hours straight. If you think I've gone over the deep end, write me at NMerriam@ArtBoy.org.

Nathaniel