The Kuari Pass Trek – What Really Happened

I didn’t plan on doing the Kuari Pass trek. A friend brought it up during a late-night conversation — you know, one of those “we should do something different” kinds of talks. Two weeks later, there we were, bags packed, catching a train to Haridwar. Just like that.

 

No big reason. No expectations. Just a break.

 

We took a cab up to Joshimath, which, if you haven’t done that drive before, is a rollercoaster of mountain roads, tea stalls, and too many blind turns. I think we stopped at least five times just to stretch or grab Maggi. It was long, but oddly calming. The river was next to us almost all the way. Cold air, cedar trees, and the silence you do not find in cities.

 

Day 1: The Start

 

The Kuari Pass trek technically starts from a village called Dhak. There’s nothing fancy about it — a few houses, some kids running around, and mules loaded with supplies. We met our guide there, strapped on our bags, and started walking. It felt weird at first. You don’t realize how loud your life is until it suddenly… isn’t.

 

The climb to Gulling wasn’t brutal, but it wasn’t easy either. I kept telling myself I was “getting used to the altitude.” Truth is, I was just out of shape. Still, the forest was incredible. Tall oaks, rhododendrons, and those little birds you never see unless you slow down.

 

Day 2: Into the Wild

 

The next day was probably my favorite. The trail opened up, and the mountains started showing themselves. Dronagiri was the first peak we spotted — it just appeared out of nowhere like it had been waiting for us. The higher we climbed, the colder it got. Our camp that night was in Khulara — just tents in a wide meadow, nothing around but hills and wind.

 

I remember sitting outside my tent with a steel cup of chai, hands freezing, eyes glued to the peaks glowing orange in the setting sun. That moment — I’ll carry it for a long time.

 

Day 3: The Pass

 

We left before sunrise. Headlamps on, shoes still damp from the day before, barely awake. The climb to Kuari Pass isn’t long, but the altitude makes it slow. Every ten steps, I had to stop and catch my breath.

 

But when we reached the top… I don’t even know how to describe it. You stand there, and it feels like the world just falls away. Mountains in every direction — Nanda Devi, Hathi, Ghoda, and others I didn’t even know the names of. Snow, sky, silence.

 

Nobody said much. We just stood there. I think we were all trying to take it in without breaking the moment.

 

The Way Back

 

Going down was faster, but not easier. My knees were angry, and my feet were tired. Still, there was something peaceful about it — the kind of peace that comes after doing something hard and knowing you did it.

 

We camped again at Gulling. It was colder this time. The fire felt better. The food tasted better too — just dal and rice, but it hit the spot.

 

What I Learned

 

I’ve done a few treks, but the Kuari Pass trek felt different. Not because of the altitude or the snow or the views — though all of that was amazing — but because of the space it gave me. Space to think. Or not think. Just walk, breathe, look around.

 

It’s not a luxury trip. You’ll stink after a day or two. You’ll pee in a hole. Your phone won’t work. But weirdly, you won’t miss any of it. At least I didn’t.

 

If You’re Thinking About Going…

 

Do it. Don’t overthink it.

 

You don’t need to be super fit, but start walking a few weeks before. Get used to stairs. Break in your shoes. Pack light — really light. Bring a decent jacket. Don’t forget sunscreen. Talk to your guide. Respect the trail.

 

Most of all, slow down. Look around. Let it hit you.

 

I didn’t go on the Kuari Pass trek to “find myself” or whatever. But in a way, I found a little more peace than I had before. And that’s enough.

 

Would I do it again? In a heartbeat.

 

Final Thoughts 

Looking back, the Kuari Pass trek was never really about a viewpoint or crossing off an “achievement”. It was about everything in between — the quiet stretches, the random conversations, the ache in one’s legs, the giggles around campfires. It brought back to me how good it feels to spend some time disconnected, to walk not knowing where you’re going next other than “keep going.” If you are so much as remotely considering doing this trek, just do it. Stop waiting for the perfect moment or the perfect physical condition. You’ll work it out on the trail — just like the rest of us. And when you’re up by the pass, inhaling cold, clean air, with the Himalayas all around you … believe me, you’ll be grateful you came. Not because you reached the top, but because you showed up for yourself. That’s what stays with you.

 

Related Posts

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

© 2025 Biz DirectoryHub - Theme by WPEnjoy · Powered by WordPress