Conquering the “Mother of the Sky”: My 28-Day Ama Dablam Expedition

Ramsay Banna

I’m no stranger to tackling ambitious projects. But nothing quite prepares you for the raw majesty of the Himalayas.

Last month, I ticked off a bucket-list goal: summiting Ama Dablam, the “Mother of the Sky,” standing at 6,812 meters (22,349 feet) in Nepal’s Khumbu region. This wasn’t just a climb; it was a 28-day expedition that tested every fiber of my being. Let me take you along for the journey, from the chaos of Kathmandu to that euphoric moment on the summit.

The Call of the Mountain: Why Ama Dablam?

Ama Dablam has haunted my dreams since I first saw photos of its iconic Southwest Ridge—a soaring ice face flanked by dagger-like ridges that look like a divine sculpture. Nicknamed for its resemblance to a traditional Nepali woman’s ornament (the dangling ice cliffs mimic her jewelry), it’s one of the world’s most technical 6,000m peaks. Steeper than Everest’s typical routes and exposed to high winds, it’s summited by only a fraction of trekkers who attempt it.

For me, this climb mirrored the grit I bring to life. Summiting Ama Dablam demanded meticulous planning, adaptability, and a tolerance for uncertainty. I joined a guided expedition with a top Sherpa team, training rigorously for six months.

Kathmandu to Base Camp: The Approach Hike

Our adventure kicked off in Kathmandu’s bustling Thamel district, where prayer flags danced amid the scent of momos and incense. A twisting helicopter flight to Lukla—the world’s scariest airport—deposited us on a gravel strip at 2,860m. From there, it’s a 10-day trek through the Everest region: Sherpa villages, suspension bridges over raging rivers, and mani stones etched with sacred mantras.

Highlights included:

• Namche Bazaar (3,440m): The “Gateway to the Himalayas,” a vibrant market town where I stocked up on snacks and acclimatized with yoga overlooking peaks.
• Tengboche Monastery (3,860m): A spiritual pitstop with panoramic views of Everest, Lhotse, and Ama Dablam herself peeking through the clouds. The monks’ evening chants gave me chills.
• Pangboche (3,985m): Home to a legendary Yeti relic and where I first felt the altitude’s bite—headaches and breathlessness as reminders to hydrate.

By Day 10, we reached Ama Dablam Base Camp (4,450m) in a grassy meadow ringed by granite walls. Tents dotted the landscape like colorful mushrooms, with yaks grazing nearby. A Puja ceremony followed: Sherpas blessed our ropes and axes with rice, juniper smoke, and chants. The mountain loomed above, promising glory or humility

Acclimatization Rotations: Building Strength

Ama Dablam isn’t for the faint-hearted. The route demands multiple rotations to higher camps to acclimatize, following the “climb high, sleep low” mantra.

• Camp 1 (5,700m): A snowy bivouac on the Southwest Ridge. Fixed lines helped with the 45-degree snow slopes, but rockfall whizzed past like bullets.
• Camp 2 (5,900m): Tucked on a knife-edge ridge with exposure that makes your stomach flip. Winds howled at 50 knots; I clipped in triple-time.
• Camp 3 (6,200m): The “Yellow Tower,” a vertical ice wall requiring front-pointing crampons and jumar ascenders. One slip here, and it’s a 1,000m freefall.

Each rotation built my confidence. I honed skills like crevasse rescue while battling acute mountain sickness (AMS). Parallels to my work? Just like iterating on a landscaping design after council feedback, these rotations refined my technique.

Summit Day: The Ultimate Push

October 15th, 1 AM. Alarms pierced the thin air at Camp 3. Frost coated my tent; fingers fumbled with frozen boots. Headlamps bobbed as our team of six climbers and four Sherpas roped up.

Dawn broke as we hit the Yellow Tower’s top—pink alpenglow bathing Everest 20km away. Winds eased, but the cold clawed deep (-25°C). At 9 AM, after 8 grueling hours, I crested the summit ridge. There it was: prayer flags whipping in the breeze, endless peaks unfolding like a 360° IMAX. Tears froze on my cheeks. Success! Ama Dablam was mine.

We spent 20 minutes soaking it in—photos, high-fives, and a quick celebration. Descending was trickier: whiteout conditions forced cautious rappels. Back at base camp 36 hours later, champagne popped amid Sherpa songs. Stat: Only 50% of permit holders summit annually; I beat the odds.

Lessons from the Roof of the World

This climb reshaped me. Teamwork with Sherpas taught humility; their strength and smiles powered us. Environmentally, it hit hard: Khumbu glaciers are retreating. As an outdoor designer, I’ll champion sustainable landscapes back home, like native drought-resistant gardens.

See my other article here

Physically, I’m fitter than ever—ready for more treks. Mentally? Unbreakable. Ama Dablam proved that with preparation and heart, you conquer the unconquerable.

What’s Next for This Adventurer/Developer?

Back home, I’m channeling this energy into new projects: eco-outdoor spaces inspired by Himalayan terraces. Dreaming bigger? Maybe Manaslu next season.

Have you tackled a big peak or project lately? Share in the comments—I’d love to hear your stories. For custom outdoor designs or property chats, hit the contact page. Adventure awaits!

Ramsay Banna

www.ramsaybanna.com

www.ramsaybanna.com.au