Our VP of Marketing, Dag Lund, shares a father–daughter
expedition in the Himalayas climbing Lobuche and Ama Dablam
Climbing together
When Iselin and I set out for the Himalayas in October, the plan was simple on paper: a father–daughter expedition, climbing together in one of the most extraordinary mountain regions on Earth. Ama Dablam and Lobuche East were the goals — challenging, technical, and humbling mountains by any measure.
What we didn’t plan for was how completely the mountains would take control of the experience.
The journey began with clear skies and quiet beauty. From Kathmandu to Lukla, through Phakding and Namche Bazaar, and onward into less-traveled valleys, everything felt expansive and full of possibility.
We took the long route, crossing Renjo La Pass into Gokyo, climbing Gokyo Ri at sunrise. From there we had a magnificent view of Mt. Everest (8 848 m), Lhotse (8 516 m) and Nuptse (7.861 m). The same day we continued toward our private Basecamp at Lobuche.
– Then the weather changed – dramatically.
It was a sobering reminder of how small you are in these mountains, no matter how prepared you think you are.
When the storm finally broke, the silence was surreal. Our team moved to Lobuche Upper High Camp, where fresh tents stood untouched in a world of white. The next morning, we reached the summit of Lobuche East — a quiet victory after days of uncertainty.
– But Ama Dablam still waited.
As we moved higher, the climb became increasingly technical. Sleep was scarce. The cold was relentless. By the time we reached Camp 3, I knew something important: continuing would not be a test of strength — it would be a risk. Iselin had her own guide. I had mine. That separation, planned from the beginning, allowed for one of the hardest decisions I’ve made: to turn back.
– She continued.
Watching your daughter climb higher than you — literally and figuratively — changes something. She wasn’t chasing a summit. She was steady, calm, and focused. Despite the wind and the cold, despite feeling unwell earlier that morning, she reached the top of Ama Dablam without supplemental oxygen.
I have never been prouder.
None of this would have been possible without the people who carried us through every stage — our Nepali guides and our porter, whose strength, professionalism, and quiet dignity made the entire expedition possible.
In Nepal, porters don’t just carry equipment. They carry dreams — day after day, at altitude, on unforgiving trails. Experiencing even a fraction of that load for a few meters gave me a new level of respect.
This journey wasn’t about conquering a mountain.
It was about patience. Trust. Knowing when to move — and when to wait. Knowing when success means stepping aside so someone else can continue. Those are lessons that don’t fade when you return home. I’ll carry them with me long after the snow has melted.
“Experiences like this stay with you. They shape how you think about responsibility, teamwork, and the people who quietly make things possible. At Ceeview, those values matter deeply to me, both as a leader and as a father, and they guide how I approach my work and collaboration with others.” — Dag Lund