We had triple-checked everything: dates, flight times, and itineraries. And yet, hovering the mouse over the "purchase" button on an airline's checkout page always seems to conjure up feelings of uncertainty. What if the trip is canceled? What if I get sick? What if I get injured? What is the worst-case scenario? And yet, as with any big decision in life, you have to find the courage to step into the unknown and click the button. It requires the ability to fully surrender to the plans of the universe and accept whatever comes, because adventure certainly cannot exist without some degree of uncertainty.

Our flights to Kathmandu were booked, and we went to sleep excited that we were going to the Himalayas. We had organized with our partners at Magical Nepal to complete the Manaslu Circuit and climb Larke Peak (6,249 m). With content collaboration ideas in motion, all that was left to do was train hard in the final eight weeks and arrive healthy for the adventure of a lifetime.

The very next morning, disaster struck Nepal. On the morning of August 26, a massive flash flood tore down the Bhote Koshi River from the Nepal-China border, devastating the Rasuwa district and communities far downstream along the Trishuli River. As of mid-October, Nepal Police had confirmed 1,456 people dead, and 5,132 people were still listed as missing. Around 7,500 homes were damaged or destroyed. It has been an endless cascade of pain and suffering for the beautiful people of Nepal. While mourning the loss of so many, we also realized that our own aspirations to walk through the Himalayas, which now seemed unimportant, were in jeopardy.

We quickly talked with Magical Nepal about the feasibility of running the trip despite the tragedy, questioning whether it was even ethical to visit a country dealing with the complex aftermath of a natural disaster. Saugat, the owner of Magical Nepal, quickly assured us not only that the Manaslu region was unaffected, but that travelers are encouraged not to cancel their trips, given that Nepal's economy thrives on tourism. Every canceled trip hurts, rather than helps, the local people.

We did what we could by organizing a fundraiser through GlobalGiving and kept our minds focused on being as prepared as possible for the trip. But as we continued to train and dial in our gear, more natural disasters kept striking Nepal.

On September 6, a flash flood hit the Budhi Gandaki and Therang rivers near Namrung on the Manaslu Circuit, destroying two suspension bridges and four houses. The Gorkha District Administration Office officially suspended travel on the circuit and the Larke Pass route, the exact route we planned to trek. With just six weeks until our departure date, our expedition was once again in question.

Thanks to the amazing work of the Nepali government and local people, a temporary bridge was built and the route reopened three days later. All systems were once again greenlit, and we could focus on our final training block.

We were closely following the Manaslu climbing expeditions when a storm system from the Bay of Bengal swept over Nepal in late September, dumping up to 3 meters of snow at Manaslu Base Camp and burying tents. That ultimately closed the Manaslu climbing season and ended the summit goals of the 493 climbers, across 41 expedition teams, who held permits this autumn.

Shortly after that, on September 27, an avalanche struck Himlung Himal Base Camp, burying 16 expedition support staff. Four were killed and 12 were reported missing. This created even more uncertainty and fear that something else could happen.

In our final week of preparation, yet another flash flood struck the Manaslu region, but this time it was much larger. Scouring the internet for more details on the destruction, we watched video after video of unfathomable amounts of water and debris surging down the Budhi Gandaki River. The flood began with a landslide near Chumchet at 4:22 a.m. on October 11, which dammed the river until the natural dam breached around 6 a.m. That gap gave communities downstream time to flee to higher ground. Still, five people staying at a sheepfold in Chumchet were reported missing, and 35 to 40 houses were swept away. It could certainly have been much worse.

Once again, the Manaslu Circuit was closed. With less than a week before our international flight, we were exploring our options and running in circles. Should we cancel the trip? What are we going to do?

Luckily, we had a conversation with the incredible professionals at Magical Nepal. They gave us some words of wisdom and some exciting Plan B options. Although roughly the first three days of the trail had been destroyed, they proposed completing the circuit in reverse, which would give ample time to rebuild the trail. Worst case, we could do an out-and-back.

Since one of our primary objectives was climbing Larke Peak, we were okay with this option as long as it was safe. Still, the uncertainty loomed. With all the recent natural disasters, heavy precipitation, and unstable hillsides, we wondered whether traveling to this region was even safe.

So once again the trip was on, but what trip? We would have to wait to find out. We truly had to accept what was given to us and trust that whatever happened was for our highest good.

We boarded our first flight to Dubai with very little idea of where we were actually headed. It's an interesting feeling to have your bags packed and ready for adventure without knowing exactly where that adventure will take you. But then again, do you ever really know?

Sixteen hours in the air at 40,000 feet gave us plenty of time to reflect on how we wanted to show up and what this trip meant to us. We both agreed that our goal was to see more of Nepal, connect with our partners and guides at Magical Nepal, walk around in the mountains, and gather training insights we can bring back to our audience and our training programs. Whether that meant the Manaslu Circuit or not, we were excited about the possibilities.

Our 36-hour layover in Dubai was an excellent opportunity to shake off the initial jet lag, adjust to the new time zone, and have an urban adventure in one of the most diverse and unique cities in the world.

We walked the streets of Islamic neighborhoods, skied indoors at Ski Dubai, and explored the Dubai Mall, which claims to be the most visited place on Earth. As we were walking through the mall, Emily received a text from Magical Nepal announcing that the Manaslu Circuit had officially reopened.

While we were excited, we knew better than to get too attached to this outcome. Our flight to Nepal the next day landed us in a very quiet Kathmandu in the middle of Dashain, Nepal's largest festival. The empty streets of Thamel felt eerily quiet, a stark contrast to the usual hustle and bustle of scooters, taxis, and vendors. We enjoyed a quiet evening before our trip briefing and gear check with Magical Nepal the next morning.

We had been watching the weather, and a low-pressure system is now forming in the Bay of Bengal. Nepal's Department of Hydrology and Meteorology has forecast rain and snowfall across parts of the country toward the end of next week, along with a slight drop in temperatures. Meteorologist Dr. Binod Pokharel says several forecast models show rain lasting more than a week, beginning Tuesday. Magical Nepal is confident in their plan and has a risk management plan in place should the rain become severe, along with satellite communication and a Plan B. It made us super grateful to have partnered with such a professional outfitter, one that has provided world-class logistics and trip preparation.

With rain and mountain snow forecast to hit around day three or four of our trek, another chapter of uncertainty is about to unfold. With our nine-hour jeep ride to Machha Khola looming tomorrow, we will once again have plenty of time to reflect on it.

One of my favorite quotes comes from Deepak Chopra:

If everything were straightforward from the moment we pressed that purchase button, what kind of adventure would it really be?

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