My First (and Probably Last) Trek: Surviving Kheerganga

Feb 17, 2025
4 min read

I always thought I had an adventurous spirit, someone who could take mountains and trek with ease. Well, Kheerganga proved me wrong.

A 17 km trek to 9700 feet in freezing cold temperatures, slipping on ice, losing all sense of how to walk—this trek had it all. Was it beautiful? Absolutely. Would I do it again? Not even if you paid me.

The Beginning: A Picture-Perfect Start

We had booked our trek with Madtrek Adventures, a group that promised an exciting and well-organized experience. Our journey started from Kasol, and the cab ride to Barshaini (the trek's starting point) was something out of a movie.

We left early in the night, and by the time we reached Barshaini, the sun was just rising, painting the mountains in golden hues. Our driver, clearly understanding our excitement, slowed down and even stopped at scenic spots so we could take pictures. That moment itself felt magical—little did I know what was coming next.

Day 1: Hiking, Vibing, and Making Memories

Unlike what I expected, the first half of the trek was surprisingly fun. The route was already chosen for us by Madtrek Adventures, so all I had to do was follow along. Till Rudranag, I was thriving.

I was vibing to music, walking alone at times, joining the group at other times, and just taking it all in. Even though I came with a friend, we naturally split up, giving each other space to experience the trek in our own way. I even started vlogging, made new friends, and was really soaked in the journey.

When we finally reached Rudranag Camp, the exhaustion faded away. Our tent had an incredible view, and we did what every excited trekker does—we clicked a million pictures and videos like there was no tomorrow.

sits in a tent, gazing at snowy pine forest. — Collect moments, not things.

Night at Rudranag: Dancing Away My Shyness

The night was pure magic. Bonfire, music, and dancing under the stars at -10°C. I’m selectively extroverted, and dancing in front of a crowd with a fully conscious mind? Absolutely not. But that night, something shifted. Maybe it was the warmth of the bonfire, the infectious energy of the group, or just the magic of the mountains—but I let go. I danced, laughed, and even learned Himachal’s traditional dance. At that moment, I wasn’t overthinking—I was just living, and it felt like I was part of something bigger, something unforgettable.

After hours of dancing and laughing, we finally crawled into our tents hoping to wake up early for the final climb. But the night had one more surprise for me.

Snow-covered mountain at night with a clear, starry sky. Silhouetted trees and dry plants in foreground. Calm and serene atmosphere. — Under the stars, the mountains feel like home

Day 2: Losing All Sense of Walking

The moment I woke up, I knew something was wrong.

I couldn’t feel my legs—especially my toes. Even though we were provided with 3-4 thick blankets, the cold was unbearable. Getting out of the tent was a struggle, but somehow, I managed. The only saving grace was the kitchen—a warm haven where no outsiders were allowed, but the kind-hearted cook let us in for a few minutes to warm up by the firewood.

And then, at 8 AM, we started our final climb to Kheerganga.

At first, I was fine. Halfway through, I even thought, "Okay, this isn’t so bad."

And then, I slipped.

That one slip changed everything.

people hike through a rocky, snow-covered trail in a wooded area. The scene feels cold and serene, surrounded by trees and rocks. — A snowy path is a story waiting to be told.

The Panic: Forgetting How to Walk

The moment I fell on the ice, something switched in my brain.

I completely forgot how to walk. My body froze—not because of the cold, but because of fear. I looked around, watching other people trek like it was nothing, and I kept thinking, "How do they know how to walk? How do their legs work?"

I lost all my senses. My mind went blank. My confidence shattered.

From that point on, I had to be helped every few steps. Our trek guides, my fellow trekkers, and even strangers kept supporting me, encouraging me, and pulling me forward. Without them, I would have never finished this trek.

And honestly, my shoes didn’t help. They were slippery, making every step a battle against gravity. Each time someone else slipped, my fear grew stronger. My heart raced. My mind kept looping with the same thoughts:

"How am I going to finish this?"
"How will I climb down?"
"Is this how I die?"

But somehow, I reached the top.

The Summit: Tea, Photos, and A Little Hope

Standing at Kheerganga’s peak, drinking hot tea with fellow trekkers, taking in the view—it should have felt like victory. But all I could think about was, "How am I supposed to get down now?"

I genuinely believed I wouldn’t make it back.

But then, my guide had a brilliant idea. He made me wear socks over my shoes to create grip and reduce the slipperiness. And guess what?

It worked like magic.

I felt like I had just learned to walk again. Step by step, I started regaining confidence, and slowly, we made our way down. When we finally reached the end point, I was just grateful to be alive.

Person in a pink jacket walking on a snowy path in a mountainous area with pine trees and colorful tents in the background. — Footprints fade, but the snow always remembers.

Final Thoughts: A Once-in-a-Lifetime Experience (Literally)

Looking back, Kheerganga was one of the most beautiful, challenging, and unforgettable experiences of my life. It taught me so much—not just about trekking, but about trusting people, pushing my limits, and surviving without my phone for two days.

Would I recommend this trek? Yes. Would I do it again? Not in this lifetime.

But one thing’s for sure—I’ll never forget the people, the struggles, the laughs, and the moment I finally crossed the finish line alive.