Mountains have a strange way of calling you. For me, it happened one quiet evening as I scrolled past a photo of snow-covered pine trees and a group of trekkers grinning against a whitewashed backdrop. It was tagged: Sar Pass Trek. I’d never heard of it before, but something about that image sparked something deep within me. A month later, I was standing at the base camp in Kasol, nervous, excited, and ready to answer that call.

The Beginning: From City Noise to Mountain Whispers

Leaving behind the chaos of Delhi, I boarded an overnight bus to Bhuntar, followed by a bumpy ride to Kasol—every mile taking me deeper into the Himachal Himalayas and farther from Wi-Fi signals. There’s something almost meditative about reaching Kasol, surrounded by pine forests and the gentle rumble of the Parvati River.

Our trek began with an orientation at the base camp, run by an experienced trekking group. The organizers briefed us on the Sar Pass trail, gave us our gear, and shared what lay ahead—five days of trekking through forests, meadows, snowfields, and a summit at over 13,800 ft.

That night, I barely slept—not from nerves, but from the quiet thrill that I was finally doing something bold, something real.

Through Forests and Fields: The Trek to Grahan Village

Day one was a warm-up, a 10 km walk from Kasol to Grahan Village. The trail started gently, hugging the side of a hill above the Parvati River. As we climbed higher, the forest thickened—tall pine and deodar trees towered above us, the scent of damp earth filling the air.

We crossed wooden bridges, rested beside waterfalls, and spoke in hushed tones, as if not to disturb the serenity. After about 6–7 hours of trekking, we reached Grahan, a sleepy Himalayan village with wooden houses and curious children waving at us. We camped on a grassy patch near the edge, where the stars that night felt so close, it was like sleeping under the universe itself.

Into the Wild: Snow, Solitude, and Biskeri Thatch

From Grahan, the real climb began. The trail narrowed and the trees gave way to open meadows. Day two and three were physically demanding—we gained significant altitude, and the air grew thinner. Our camps at Min Thatch and Nagaru were surrounded by snowy peaks. Each morning, we woke to frozen tents and the smell of chai, and each step forward took us deeper into a dreamlike landscape.

The higher we went, the more the snow began to dominate. Trekking poles became essential. Sar Pass trekking isn’t technical, but it tests your endurance and your willpower, especially when the winds pick up and visibility drops. But then you'd stop, turn around, and see the layers of forest, meadow, and mist behind you—and it made every struggle worth it.

One of the most beautiful spots was Biskeri Thatch, a high-altitude meadow covered in wildflowers in summer and blanketed with snow in early spring. With mountains surrounding us on all sides and absolute silence broken only by the crunch of snow under boots, it was nothing short of magical.

The Summit Day: Sar Pass, Snow Slides & a Sense of Glory

Summit day started early—around 4:00 AM. We strapped on our headlamps, packed our gear, and set off into the darkness. As the sun rose, the snow-covered trail to Sar Pass lit up in golden hues. It felt like we were walking through a frozen wonderland.

The final ascent was steep and slow. Every breath was labored, every step cautious. But when we finally reached the Sar Pass summit—at over 13,800 ft—it was pure euphoria. We hugged each other, laughed through our exhaustion, and let the biting cold wind carry away every doubt we had about coming here.

And then came the most fun part: the snow slide down the other side of the pass! Like kids on a snowy playground, we slid down icy slopes on our backs, laughing all the way into the valley below. It was the perfect way to celebrate our achievement—a thrilling, unforgettable descent into the arms of the mountains.

The Descent & The Afterglow

The trek ended at Barshaini, but the journey didn’t end there. As we made our way down through forests and mountain streams, back toward civilization, none of us wanted it to be over. We were dirty, tired, and sunburnt—but glowing with the satisfaction of having done something extraordinary.

The Sar Pass trek isn’t just a walk through the snow. It’s a test of your patience, your strength, and your ability to be present. It pushes you to listen—to your body, to your surroundings, and to the silence between the trees.

Final Thoughts: Sar Pass Will Change You

If you’re someone who has ever dreamed of snow-covered trails, Himalayan sunrises, and nights filled with stars, then don’t think twice—trek to Sar Pass. Go with an open heart and a bit of grit, and you’ll return with more than photos. You’ll return with stories, friendships, and a quiet kind of pride that only comes from climbing a mountain.

The Sar Pass trek gave me a break from screens and schedules, but more importantly, it gave me clarity. Somewhere between the snow and the sweat, I found a version of myself I’d forgotten.