Finding Myself Again on the Kedarkantha Trek

What if one morning you wake up and realise you don’t recognise the person in the mirror anymore? That’s exactly where I was—restless, stuck, and searching for answers. I had no idea that the mountains of Kedarkantha would be the place where I’d rediscover myself.

Hi, I’m Hitesh from Haryana, and this is the story of how a trek turned into one of the most meaningful experiences of my life.

Why the Mountains?

Life in the city often feels heavy. Deadlines, doubts, and the constant noise sometimes make you lose touch with who you are. For me, nature has always been the place where I reset. The mountains don’t rush you—they give you the silence and space to listen to yourself.

That’s why trekking has always been close to my heart. It’s not just about walking a trail; it’s about peeling away the noise and reconnecting with what really matters. After nearly eight years away from trekking, I finally decided to set out again—this time to Kedarkantha—with my college friend Khushi. From the moment we booked it, I had a feeling this trip would be unforgettable.

Delhi to Sankri: The Long Road to the Mountains

Our journey began late at night from Delhi’s Kashmiri Gate bus stand. The excitement was real—two friends, backpacks, and the promise of snow ahead. Around 11 PM, the bus rolled in, and our adventure officially began.

At 1 AM, we stopped at a roadside dhaba. It was warm and lively, with travellers sharing tea and parathas. That small break, simple as it was, filled me with joy. By dawn, we reached Haridwar, where steaming cups of chai helped us fight off the chill.

Since it was Christmas–New Year week, the place was buzzing with trekkers. Buses lined the streets, strangers with rucksacks all heading to the same mountains. By late evening, after a long drive full of traffic, we finally reached Sankri—the gateway to Kedarkantha. Tired but relieved, I remember sitting down for a late-night dinner and feeling an overwhelming sense of peace. The mountains were already working their magic.

Preparing for the Trek

We had booked our kedarkantha trek from delhi with BanBanjara—₹8,000 for travel, meals, stay, and equipment. After dinner, the trek leaders gathered everyone for a briefing. With nearly 100 trekkers, names were hard to remember, but the energy was infectious.

The instructions were simple: travel light, carry extra socks, don’t forget thermals and gloves. Renting gear was easy—jackets, shoes, and poles were all available at a low cost. That night, under the quiet skies of Sankri, I knew the real adventure would begin the next morning.

The First Steps: Sankri to Juda Ka Talab

Waking up in Sankri was pure magic. The sunrise over the snow-kissed peaks made me dream of a small home in a valley like this. After breakfast and a few photos, we set out.

The trail was gentle at first, winding past villages and forests. The crisp air, laughter from fellow trekkers, and silence of the mountains created a rhythm that felt healing. Trekking, I realised, is just like life—carry too much weight, and it slows you down. Walk light, laugh, and you’ll enjoy the journey.

By afternoon, we reached Juda Ka Talab, a frozen lake wrapped in legend. Locals say it was once a single lake split in two when Lord Shiva struck his damru. In winter, it turns into a mirror of ice—fragile, breathtaking, and unforgettable. That night, camping under a sky full of stars, strangers became friends. We sang, laughed, and shared stories, feeling like one big family in the cold.

Snowstorms and Silent Nights

The weather changed suddenly. Snow began to fall, covering our tents and turning the valley into a white wonderland. It was beautiful, but the temperature dropped to nearly –10°C. We survived the night with hot porridge, tea, and a small bonfire. It was harsh but strangely comforting—like the mountains were testing us, reminding us of their power.

Waking up to a valley painted in snow was worth every freezing moment. The trees, paths, and sky looked unreal, as if nature had pressed pause and dressed everything in white.

The Push to the Summit

The climb grew tougher at higher altitudes. Thin air, steep trails, and biting winds made every step a challenge. But the thought of the summit kept us going. At 11,250 feet, a plate of steaming rajma chawal felt like heaven itself.

Snowflakes fell gently as we pushed on. The final stretch was intense, the winds almost pushing us back. We couldn’t quite reach the very top because of the storm, but standing there, surrounded by endless mountains, I realised something important: summits aren’t just about reaching the peak. They’re about the lessons you learn along the way.

Lessons from the Mountains

Descending felt easier on the body but heavier on the heart. Leaving behind the frozen lake, the snowy camps, and the laughter with strangers was emotional.

Kedarkantha taught me things no classroom or city could:

• Carry only what matters—both in your backpack and in life.
• Even in storms, there’s beauty.
• And most importantly, the journey itself is the reward.

More Than Just a Trek

Looking back, Kedarkantha was far more than a trek—it was a mirror. It reflected my fears, my strength, and the joy of simply being alive. The snowstorms, the –10°C nights, the frozen lake, and the friendships made along the way will stay with me forever.

The mountains didn’t give me direct answers, but they showed me something even better—who I really am.

So if you ever feel lost, I’d say: go to the mountains. They may not fix everything, but they’ll remind you of everything you already carry inside.