by CHT
Glen Chee · Candy Cheong
Singaporean · Malaysian
Fifteen years ago, standing on the wind-scoured ridge of Pakistan’s treacherous Gondogoro-La at 5,585 meters, Singaporean Glen Chee dropped to one knee and proposed to Malaysian Candy Cheong. His lungs burned from the thin air, his legs trembled in crampons, and fixed ropes anchored them to the raw edge of the Karakoram range. Yet through the freezing exhaustion, Candy said yes—it was a proposal etched in ice and adventure! Returning home, Glen and Candy packed away their high-altitude gear into an old trunk, pushed it into a dark corner of the storeroom, and quietly hung up their mountaineering boots. They traded glacier ascents for domestic life, running marathons, exploring cities, and traveling at a leisurely pace. But by 2025, a deep, persistent craving returned to their souls. The mountains were calling them home, and it was time for one gloriously crazy comeback.
They set their sights on the Nepalese Himalayas: Mera Peak. Standing proud at 6,476 meters, it promised a breathtaking front-row seat to five of the planet’s six highest giants: Everest, Lhotse, Cho Oyu, Makalu, and Kanchenjunga. To turn this wild dream into reality, they entrusted their safety to living legend Khoo Swee Chiow, the famed Singaporean adventurer who has stood atop Everest three times and crossed over 300 peaks worldwide. Excited, they dragged that forgotten trunk out from the storeroom. Opening it was a heartbreak; 15 years of dormancy had reduced their trusted gear to literal dust! A massive shopping spree later, fully geared up, they embarked on three months of relentless hill climbs and road runs. They felt ready, but the mountains would soon prove them delightfully wrong.
Their expedition was a close-knit crew of seven like-minded Singaporeans and Malaysians who cherished efficiency and comfort. To maximise time on the trails and skip the grueling road approach, they chartered private helicopters from Kathmandu directly to Kothe (3,691m), nestled inside the remote Hinku Valley. From Kothe, the trek to Thagnak was a leg-draining warm-up against a backdrop of surreal majesty, pushing upward toward Khare across rocky moraines and beneath staggering vertical cliffs. At Khare (5,045m), they settled down for crucial acclimatisation. Above 5,000 meters, high altitude is a silent game of patience; skipping this step means severe illness, permanent injury, or death. Here, they strapped on crampons for refresher training, practicing jumaring, roping, and ice-axe handling on icy slopes. Then came the push to the Mera massif, where romance met raw, unadulterated agony.
Ascending the massive Mera glacial slope between 5,300 and 6,000+ meters was an agonising, 16-hour ordeal. At this height, the air pressure plummets, cutting effective oxygen down to a brutal 47%. In sub-zero cold, every single step felt like lifting lead weights. Severe breathlessness tore at their chests, extreme fatigue settled into their bones, and a thick brain fog clouded every thought. They didn’t just walk; they waddled, crawled, and fought for every inch of elevation. Standing on the Mera massif at their absolute physical limits, Glen and Candy leaned into each other. They would never have made it without the flawless guidance of Khoo Swee Chiow, alongside the astonishing care, technical skill, and infectious warmth of their Sherpa team; Lead Sherpa Guide Ngwang, Sherpa AP Pasang, Sherpa Rinji, and the superhuman porters who carried their gear with effortless grace. Lying in high camp, battered and bruised, Glen and Candy swore to each other: “Never, ever again!”
Yet, less than a month later, looking at the faded tan lines on their faces and the fresh fire in their eyes, the mountain magic had already worked its spell. The pain is fading; the triumph remains. The gear isn’t going back into the trunk this time. In fact, they are already eyeing 2027. Whether it’s a return to Mera Peak or a dramatic summit of Mt. Kazbek in Georgia, the mountains haven’t seen the last of Glen and Candy.
