I squinted as I let my eyes glide on the ridge in front of me. The growling crevasses, the light catching turquoises in the frozen rivers of ice fins, the snow-powdered crags and the sheer rock faces leading to bumped domes of ice. Clouds playing striptease with the angular face of Ama Dablam (6,812m), shimmering around outcrops of dark grey slate. Everest (8,848m), diminutive and humble, peered over the Lhotse Nuptse ridge, unaware of all the fuss bestowed on it by humanity. Kwangde (6,187m) loomed further west &mdash an immense mountain with many facets, while Khumbhilla, a mountain sacred to the sherpas loomed to the north, rags of prayer flags adorning the wooden sentinel poles on its lower ridges. A shiver ran through my spine and a thin gauze of moisture clouded my eyes briefly. It must have been the wind.