Finding My Footing: A Rookie Trekker’s Beginning
Chance Encounters and Unexpected Paths
During my solo escapade in Kashmir, I stumbled upon a group of adventure enthusiasts gearing up for the Tarsar Marsar Trek. It was eye-opening to witness ordinary people willingly embarking on multi-day treks with heavy backpacks, all for the sheer joy of it. Until then, I’d always associated mountaineering with conquering Everest, thinking it was reserved for superhuman types. Little did I know there were thousands of peaks to conquer, not just the mighty Everest. As I chatted with three of the girls from the group, our conversation took an interesting turn.
“So, why trekking? Isn’t it insanely difficult?” I asked, puzzled.
“Because we’re crazy,” one of them laughed, breaking into giggles.
Seeing my puzzled expression, S chimed in, “I don’t love mountains enough to endure the hardship. I’m happy doing that in the gym. I come to the mountains to sort out my life problems, get clarity, and reflect.“
I’m confused. How does that work exactly? Do you suddenly have a revelation after a grueling trek? I inquired.
S launched into epic stories about life lessons learned on the trail. Then she added, “Trekking teaches you a lot. It’s hard to put into words; you have to experience it yourself. It’s different for everyone.”
And suddenly, I was itching to experience this transformative journey for myself. I nodded, telling her I felt the same about solo trips.
“I want that,” I said. “How do I get started?”
She walked me through her prep routine, how much time it takes, what to eat – the whole deal. I was amazed by her dedication.
“I want trekking to be my lifestyle,” she said.
“But you’re already there. You were the only one in your group who followed the required fitness plan seriously,” I pointed out.
“Yes, but it’s not my everyday thing,” she explained. “Trekking transforms you because of the effort you put in. It instills a seriousness about fitness that enhances your overall well-being. Living in extreme conditions with minimal facilities teaches you to appreciate life’s luxuries and live with less. Trekking isn’t just a physical challenge; it’s a journey of self-discovery.”
While some people do it for the ‘Gram, for others, it’s a way of life. I’m somewhere in between. I become super disciplined before a trek, but then it fades away afterward.
Me: I had no clue. Fitness has always been a struggle for me. I love walking and can go for miles without stopping. But going to the gym and running scares me. And because I’ve broken these promises so many times, there’s a thick layer of shame, guilt, and negative self-talk weighing me down.
Even as we chat, half my brain is like, “If only you had stuck to your fitness plan, you could’ve joined this trek.” Maybe not for the entire six days, but at least for a day or two. I could hire a private guide to accompany your crew. Whenever I feel tired, I can just head back. That would motivate me to prepare better for next time. Plus, I’ve never been with such an awesome bunch of solo women trekkers doing something so gutsy. I want to be part of that vibe, even if just a bit.
I told them how last year, our group of friends, decided on a spur-of-the-moment snow trek to Triund. Had no clue what I was getting into – the altitude, temperature, terrain, you name it. My gear was all wrong. I went in with new sports shoes and with my topmost layer being woolen during snow. Ended up with frostbite ’cause my socks and gloves got wet. It was the hardest thing I had done but strangely, I can’t wait to experience it again.
S: So, you’re an impromptu adventure type. Dig it.
Me: Huh? Nah, I’m more of a planner by default. It’s like my genuine mental quirk. But lately, I’ve been trying to break free from that with these solo escapades.
N: But didn’t you decide on that trek last minute? And now, here you are, chilling solo in Kashmir.
Me: There was a trekker in our group who wanted to go. I just tagged along, assuming they’d have my back if anything went wrong. And Kashmir is just city travel. Not like I’m going into the forest to live by myself.
N: But you came on your own?
Me: Yes, how else will I come?
S: No dude. You are an impromptu person.
Me: It’s not really impromptu. I’ve booked the tickets in advance. And this is my second trip to Kashmir. Plus, I wouldn’t have signed up for the trek if the other guys weren’t going.
N: Seems pretty spontaneous to me.
Me: I don’t get it. Like how?
Everyone laughed (except me).
I usually don’t hang out past 7 or 8 pm when I’m traveling solo in Kashmir, but here we are, four of us chatting away till 9, and I’m dreading going back to the houseboat. Time just flew.
N: This is so much fun. Would’ve been awesome if you could join us for tomorrow’s trek, he na?
S: Totally, man. This is a blast.
Me: Tell me about it. I’m already dreading tomorrow without you guys. And I’m in freaking Kashmir. It’s my favorite place on planet Earth. If only I was fit. Dang!!
S looked me dead in the eye and said, “What’s the point in beating yourself up now?“
Me: I know, I know. But I really wanna tag along with you all. Not even for the trek, just for the company. If I was fit, I could hire a guide and do the one or two-day trek plan. Heck, I’d even pay your trekking firm the full price if they’d let me join you for a day. Just not sure if they’d let me bail after one day.
S: That’s not a bad idea actually. There are some cancellations in the group, they might be open to filling that space.
N: Yeah!!
Me: Yeah??
S: Yeah !!
Me: Ok, I don’t have any gear like trekking shoes and thermals and jackets.
S: You can rent these gears. Take my thermal, I’ve an extra layer.
Me: Seriously, how will I fit into your clothes?
S: It’s stretchable.
Me: Yeah, and will become permanently stretched.
S: So, be it. I will get a new one. Or you buy me a new one.
Me: Sure thing. But what about the rest of the things?
N: I’ve an extra day bag, you can put your stuff in that. I can carry yours. Don’t buy meds, I have all of them. And I have an extra t-shirt.
Me: Guys, this is really sweet. But I don’t mind purchasing everything even if it’s for a day. Is there any place where we can get all the trek stuff?
By this time, S has found 3 Declathons in Srinagar. She had taken a scooty rental and said that will take me to all these stores in the morning. The pick-up time was 10.30am for the trek and the decathlon opened at 10 am as per google.
Me: Ok, but how do I sign up for the trek?
N: You can come with us and speak with the trek leader there. It’s a few hrs ride.
Me: Works for me.
S: You should call our group coordinator now.
Me: At 9.30pm at night?
S : Yes. And tell her that you are a pro-trekker, so that she allows you directly. Just say that you have done 5-6 treks.
Me : But I haven’t.
S: She doesn’t need to know that.
Me : And what do I tell her about returning after day one?
S: Tell her you are not feeling well. Even pro-trekker get sick on the trek.
Me: I can’t lie. I mean, I’m not good at it.
S: Do you want to do the trek?
Me: Yes, but..
S: Then you have to. How will she allow a beginner trekker to come at this last minute?
Me: \I’m not even a trekker/. Ok, I will try. But tell me exactly what I need to say. I will rehearse and then call her.
The trek leader didn’t answer the call. Turns out she was Nafran Valley basecamp. S suggested to drop her a message. I was asking her what to type and making faces at all the lies I had to type.
S: Do you mind if I type?
Me: That will be better.
S: So, I need to hype you a bit in the message.
Me: I understand.
S: It’s done. Do you want to see it before I send it?
Me: No.
S: Ok, done. Now, let’s hope she calls back soon. Keep checking the phone at night. If she message, call immediately. And pitch yourself as a pro-trekker.
Me : \Nervous laugh/. We didn’t smoke weed, have any alcohol, or smoked etc.. What’s this high? How do I sleep? I’m so fired up.
We laughed, chatted some more, made plans for tomorrow morning, and then realized that me and S hadn’t had dinner. It was past 10.30 pm. We tried to order whatever was available. I called the houseboat stay that will be pakka back by 11 am. The chacha ji had to come on a shikara to pick us up. And he wakes up at 4 am.
When we were heading back, S said she couldn’t find her phone. We checked everywhere but we couldn’t find it. Two of us rushed back to the restaurant and the other two were checking the roads. This was her postpaid sim, so she didn’t remember the number.
Me: Wait, you would have given this number to your family members, they will have it.
S: If I call my mom and tell her that I’ve lost my phone on a solo trek and that too in Kashmir, can you imagine her panic, let alone the scoldings?
Me: Arre sun lena. You will get your phone back.
S: No dude, I would rather lose my phone than that.
We searched everywhere but we couldn’t find the phone. I said, Kashmiri’s don’t steal. It must be somewhere here.
S: You might be too idealistic.
We sat in the restaurant exhausted. And then S said – I think I gave my phone to you.
Me: Shit, I lost it?
S: No dude, can you just check your bag? Last hope.
Sigh, it was in my bag. Damn!! I’m so so sorry, I said.
S: Gosh, Thank god. \big sigh of relief/
Me: I’m so sorry. I’m an idiot. I must have..
S: Chill chill. I should have been more careful about it.
Me: Yeah, but..
S: Relax. All good.
Me: I’m really sorry.
We called the other two (who were still looking for the phone on the road). It was around 11.30pm and finally hopped on to our shikaras. Apologizing to our hosts again. They were too kind.
I had dozed off while watching Tarsar Marsar documentary by Indiahikes, primarily the difficulty level and the fitness required.
When I woke up in the morning, the trek leader had not messaged/called me back. And whatever high we were on last night has come down. I knew that doing this trek wasn’t a good idea. To start with even if I climb just one day, I won’t be able to match their pace. So forget doing the trek for the companionship, I will be the person slowing them down.
So far, I was comparing day one of Triund Trek with Tarsar Marsar and not comprehending the distance, gradient, terrain, difficulty, etc.
I did some impromptu morning adventures with S. She had learned about a not-so-known masjid. The architecture of it was very different from all the other Masjids in Srinagar. We had conversations with the locals there who told us more about the architecture, and stories behind it and we witnessed the most amazing Pigeon show. It was amazing. We both agreed it’s these magical moments were the best reward for unplanned travel.
I took her to a beautiful heritage cafe which is frequently visited by locals. It was beautiful and the food was amazing. Once we sat in silence, I knew I had to tell her about the change in trek plans. And I realized she knew, else we would be in decathlon right now.
She said, she also realized in the morning that it was not a good idea. She feared I might fall sick/injured given the difficulty, altitude, and lack of gear. And I said I realize the same in the morning. We both said, next time and were giggling over how fun last night was. And just then the trek coordinator called. Surprisingly, I mustered up the courage to pitch myself as a seasoned trekker. She said they can’t enroll someone now. I would need a medical certificate and some more paperwork which they need to submit to the government and forest authorities here. I thanked her and apologized for calling her so late at night.
S: Oh Yeah, I completely forgot about the medical part.
Me: Regardless, it was so much fun.
S: Yeah.
Me: I would love to meet you, once you are back. Can’t wait to hear more about your experience and reflections.
S: Sure. I’m not sure what state I will be in but would love to meet.
Me: You will be great. Don’t worry about traveling. Tell me the time and place and I will come.
I wished her luck. Went to the houseboat and met the other two women. Hugged her and gave them some chocolates.
By the time I returned to the houseboat, the lack of sleep for the last 3 nights, headache due to roaming in the scorching sun, fatigue and just the sadness of not doing the trek with them hit me. I just wanted to sleep and sulk.
There was a knock at my door. I woke up in a jerk and that made the headache worse. The houseboat owner came and said you left your laptop bag out. I had no idea where I had dropped my bag. He said you left it on the other side of the lake before getting into shikara. Oh shit, I thanked him. He laughed.
Him: You really don’t remember?
Me: Chachaji, sar bohot dukh raha he.
Him: acha beti, chai logi aap?
Me: Nahi, bas sona he. 2-3 raat se nind nahi hui.
Him: Thik he, rest kar lo. Aapne ye bag, mere ghar me chod diya tha.
I had stayed with him the last time in the same room where the other trekker friends were staying. He had recommended the neighboring houseboat for my stay this time.
For anyone who thinks of me as responsible or a good solo traveler. Well, think whatever you want, I need sleep. And off I dozed.
I went to Pahalgam for 2-3 nights. Booked a homestay which came first with good ratings and to date, this has been my favorite stay. I did a small hike to an unnamed mountain peak. Me and the guide were the only ones and it was so serene and magical. I finished the ascent in 2 hrs which was the exact time it took my guide. I thought it would take me 4 hrs or more.
I later met S for 30 minutes or less once she was back.
Me: So, how was it? Did you have your reflections?
S: It was very tough. All the fitness prep was on one side, it was really really hard. And it was so cold, I wore all my layers on most campsites. Good that you didn’t come for this one.
Me: Did you have reflections?
S: Yes, so much more than I had hoped for, and then she shared a bit about it.
I didn’t click any pics or record any videos. But this moment is etched in my memory. Even details like, her hair was wet, her facial expressions, loss of words while describing how she felt. I knew it in my bones that I wanted to experience this.
Reality Check: Embracing Life’s Ups and Downs
But as the old habits go, I fell back into the rut and the struggle with the gym/exercise continued. I signed for a 2km race and I knew the night before that I won’t be able to finish it. I did the next day. I don’t know how.
The winning moment was just showing up for the race when I was super panicked. I’ve never felt so out of place anywhere else in my life than the running ground. And yet I so wanted to belong here. I was trying to copy everyone, what stretches they were doing, how they were standing etc.
I signed up for 5km and this time, I not only gave up on the prep but didn’t even show up for the event. I felt like a loser, a failure. Why am I like this? Every time anyone praises me for any of my efforts, my internal dialogue is you don’t know the real me.
Hari planned a surprise hike for me on my birthday. When he was still recovering from a terrible episode of cold and dust allergy. We left at 4.30 am and to date that has been one of the most beautiful sunrises and morning glow I have seen during the journey. I couldn’t finish the hike and we came back from the 60-70% mark. I felt disappointed but kept a happy face for all the efforts he had put in. And the regular pep-talk of, next time I will be better. But will I ever?
I did some other hikes with some other friends and could see that I’ve indeed got better. To motivate myself more, I signed up for a beginner 6-day spring trek in Uttarakhand in April end. The trekking group I went with felt a lot more experienced and pro. They kept sharing their daily run, and climb pics which instead of motivating me, demotivated me. It almost got to the point that I didn’t want to trek with this group or was it my internal panic – the realization that I shouldn’t be trekking and I’m yet again not fit. Why do I even try to be something that I’m clearly not?
Turned out, that I had a bad leg sprain which made it difficult to walk, sit, or stand – running was out of the picture. By this time, I’ve gotten quite good at hikes. I saw many doctors but no one could figure out what was causing this. Interestingly, everyone told me that I should be able to trek but with pain. I kept reading about all of my symptoms – some even indicated cancer, tumor and what not. I decided not to go for the trek.
I felt bad and there was this inner voice that you are canceling it because you are scared. There is nothing really wrong with you. It turned out otherwise. I was diagnosed with Periformos Syndrome and the doctor said it would take me 1.5 months to walk 1 hour with painful physio sessions and exercises without fail. Well, you had me at exercise.
But I persisted and then once I was able to start running, I rescheduled the trek to November end. There was a fitness pre-requisite to run 5km in 40 mins. And even though, I tried I couldn’t reach this target before the trek.
I realized that at this point the trek had just turned into my fear/phobia/panic. And doesn’t matter whether or not I finish it, I just have to show up. I had already researched about the relatively easy exit in this trek. So, if I get injured or fall sick, I will pay whatever money is needed for personal transport and leave. If I just do even one day of the trek, that will be good enough.
Well, this was my pep talk. I was legit very scared, even though I was putting up a brave front. But I also know this about me, if I just showed up for the trek, just like the race, I would finish it. How and in what state, that I have no clue.
While at the core, my life decisions are based on avoiding any physical pain, I’ve learned that is the fear of the unknown that scares me. And for whatever reason, my physical pain tolerance is quite high.
Into the Wild: Conquering Mountains and My Inner Demons
I completed Deoriatal Chandrashila trek (DC) on 30th November, 2023. And boy, this is hands down the best thing I’ve ever done to and for myself. It was truly life-transforming. This deserves a separate post, hell a book on itself. I still can’t put all the learnings into words. But I know, I was a different person after the 6 days of this trek. Eternally grateful for all the struggles, reflections, learnings, and most importantly new friendships. I’m very particular (read fussy) about my solo trips. This was my only solo trip which was throughout a group trip. And it’s the people who made it such a remarkable ride. I know I will be doing so many more treks and much harder ones but DC will always have my heart.
Within a month of finishing DC, I did Dayara Bugyal on Christmas (a snow trek), confronting my fear of cold. But I deliberately chose this one to be easier than DC, just so I could focus on conquering my fear of freezing my butt off. I mean, I knew I could handle it, given that I aced DC.
Self-praise doesn’t come easily to me but seriously, I’m a pretty darn nice person, especially when I’m out there solo traveling. I always wonder why the heck I can’t hold onto that niceness once I’m back in Bangalore.
Sulk – could have been my noun, adjective and verb. All I did on this trek was complain and sulk. Be it about the people, how ridiculously easy this so-called trek was, trek leaders, food, washing utensils in frozen water, terrain, views etc. I was constantly comparing this trek with DC for every single thing. So much so that I was myself tired of complaining but I just couldn’t stop. I’d whine about ten things in my head, and then let out one complaint out loud. And then I’d try to pep talk myself into being grateful and living in the moment, but nada, nothing worked.
Mountains have a way of humbling you. I always struggle to catch some Z’s on treks, but this time, I only managed a measly 2.5 hours in the first two days – combined. I’ve seen the aftermath of sleep deprivation on summit day during DC. The funny thing is, the third day was Summit Day here too, and it was gonna be the longest day of the trek. I knew I’d be in dire straits if I didn’t catch some shut-eye. I tried everything, but not a wink all night.
I kinda figured I wouldn’t get much sleep, so I got into my trekking gear* and packed my bags before hitting the hay. I even blamed the lack of sleep on how ridiculously easy the trek was – like, I wasn’t even tired enough to sleep properly. \I know/
(*Sleeping without thermals in sub-zero temps – even with a sleeping bag – felt like venturing into a monster’s den without armor every time I had to pee.)
I was legit scared to step outside in the morning. I did a little prayer, counted to three, and gave myself a pep talk before unzipping the tent. But when I stepped out, it wasn’t as cold as I thought. It was 5 am, freezing, but I was chill. What the heck? Pinch me, I ain’t dreaming.
Me: Asif, are you feeling cold?
Asif: What do you think?
Me: I don’t.
I asked like five or six people who were visibly shivering.
Boom, fear of cold conquered! As far as I’m concerned, my trek’s done. Vese bhi I have no interest in doing this trek anymore.
I kinda forced myself to snooze (more outta fear of what was coming) from 6 to 6:45 am. I upped my food and water intake and slowed my pace to brace for the fatigue ahead. And nobody could believe I’d gotten so little sleep. I told our guide,
Sir, pata nahi kya version aane vala he mera aaj. Summit day and sleeplessness breaks me in a way that I never think is possible and then I come out of it so strong. Let’s see aaj kya hota he!!
He just laughed and shook his head in disbelief.
Mountains have a way of humbling you. I had full-blown AMS (Acute Mountain Sickness) which freaked me the heck out. It started with low oxygen levels, then came the headache, dizziness, nausea, vomiting, stomach upset, and of course, periods. I wasn’t prepared for or expecting AMS at all. That more than anything else knocked me off my feet.
Thankfully, I had a buddy who was going through the exact same thing. We were told to descend pronto after popping some Diamox. If it weren’t for her, I dunno how I would’ve coped. Luckily, we both kept a positive mindset. Not once did we ask, “Why me?” Instead, we were kinda glad it happened on an easy trek – at least we’ll be better prepared for the tougher, high-altitude ones.
Me: How can I get AMS?
P: Anyone can get AMS.
Me: I know. I meant this wasn’t even a high altitude gain. We didn’t even gain 2000 ft. DC summit was 4000ft altitude gain in the night with zero sleep.
P: Hmm..
Me: It’s like getting cold in Bangalore and not in the mountains.
\Trying really hard not to complain. Why the bloody hell I can’t stop?/
Me: Tell me something, you have done Kedarkantha, right? How was that especially compared to Dayara?
P: I really liked that more than this. The people and the trek was really good.
Me: Thank god. I have been cribbing so much throughout. And since no one else was, I thought something was wrong with me.
P: I’ve been comparing this with Kedarkantha too. Not intentionally but something will happen and that will remind me of it. I really had a great time and that was my trek, solo and it changed my life.
Me: God, yes. Exact same with me and DC. Lady, you are godsent.
For the entire lunch stop, none of the other trekmates even once came to check on me. Everyone knew about me and P’s condition. If not for P’s company I really felt alone. And that deeply scared me more than the cold.
The descent was nasty. My head was spinning everytime I had to look down and I couldn’t eat any food. My trek leader kept saying that I needed to eat so that he could give me the meds and avoid fatigue and nausea. But the thought of food made me wanna puke. And since I had already done that, I was trying to avoid the second round.
I didn’t see a point in even continuing the trek. Cold done. Summit done. I want to get the hell out of here. I was mentally checked out and didn’t want to do any pep talk. I’m done. I want out – right now. But I had a feeling, I was not done yet. There was something left for me else the trek would have been over. Keep faith. There are more fears to overcome.
When we finally reached the camp – walking (and stopping) at a snail’s pace. Lo and behold the cold and spine-chilling wind. I was shivering at 3 pm. I went inside my tent alone, closed the zipper and cried.
Why do I have to trek solo? Hell, Why do I even travel solo?
Why can’t be I like normal people?
Why did I even think I could trek?
Why didn’t Hari come with me?
I want a flying machine that transports me home immediately.
I’m sick. I’m alone and I’m scared.
I don’t want to do this.
Why did I come here? I miss home.
I’m done trekking.
I quickly realized crying (and cribbing) would make my headache worse. It was my decision to trek alone and I need to take care of myself. Because, clearly nobody else here will. There were so many issues with my body that I didn’t know what to focus on. I took a deep breath and said it out loud. This is my torture chamber. (A term I coined for my hardest time during DC). I will come out of it stronger.
I had to drink more water. I called out to my tentmate who was out to check if there was hot drinking water kept out. She said yes and didn’t offer to get a bottle for me.
Mujhe hi mera take care karna padega. \I can’t cry/.
I was about to step out and face the chill. Just then, another friend came and gave me his hot water bottle. I thanked him. Closed the tent and wiped my new happy tears.
Ache log he yahan. Sara time me crib karti rahungi aur apni dunia me rahungi to ghanta friends banenge.
But this was a relief. Then I started focussing on each of my health issues. And one after the other, it kept getting better. Later my friends helped me with many things.
Our trek leader was very caring. I took paracetamol so that I sleep. I didn’t want to take any chances. The only sad part was we were served really hot big fluffy gulabjamun during dinner and I said no. My stomach was sensitive and I didn’t want to take any risks.
I slept for 5 hrs with breaks. The next day I told all the people I had spoken to, especially my friends that I slept for 5 hrs. Everyone was happy. I was like, damn, is this what being human feels like.
Finally, the last day of the trek. We were briefed the descent is really hard. Walk in one straight line. No overtaking. After a km or so, I asked our trek leader,
Sir, hard section kab aayega?
Him: Yehi hard section.
Me: Ye to easy he, sir.
Him: Achi baat he.
Me: DC me to descent bohot hard tha. Ye to bohot easy he.
\Kutte ki dum…… What the bloody hell is wrong with me?/
With each trek, I shed layers of doubt and fear, paving the way for a newfound sense of determination and purpose. And though the journey was far from easy, the lessons learned and friendships forged along the way made every step worth it.
Reflecting on my trekking journey, I’m reminded that the path to self-discovery is not always straightforward. It’s filled with twists and turns, highs and lows, but ultimately, it’s the journey that shapes us into who we are meant to be.
So here’s to embracing the unknown, conquering fears, and finding ourselves one step at a time. The mountains may be unforgiving, but they also hold the key to unlocking our true potential. And with each trek, we inch closer to realizing our strength and resilience, one summit at a time.
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