The morning air at Tribhuvan International feels ordinary until the plane to Lukla climbs toward a wall of serrated white — the mountains suddenly assert themselves and your small aircraft dips to land on a short runway carved into a steep slope. From Lukla the trail drops and rises through rhododendron and pine, crosses swollen rivers on suspension bridges, and threads Sherpa villages where prayer flags snap like color in motion. By the time you reach Namche Bazaar the Himalaya have begun to rearrange how you breathe and how you measure distance.