Kedarkantha Trek – Changed the Way I Look at Mountains

I’ll be honest with you—I wasn’t planning some life-altering Himalayan trek. I just wanted a break. A real break. Not scrolling Instagram by a beach or lying in bed with pizza. I needed mountains, cold air, some silence maybe. That’s when a friend casually mentioned the Kedarkantha trek.

He called it “doable.” Said it had snow, great views, and you didn’t need to be some mountaineer to pull it off. That was enough to convince me.

Therefore, a few weeks later, I found myself on a 10-hour ride for a small village in Uttarakhand, called Sankri, with a backpack I have probably overpacking and a group of strangers with which I am sharing the tent.

Day 1: The City Fades Out

The thing about Sankri is... it’s quiet. The kind of quiet where you can hear your own footsteps. And it hits you the moment the car stops.

We reached around evening. No honking. No phones ringing. Just cold mountain air and a sky full of stars I forgot existed. I stepped out, stretched my legs, and boom—instant peace. The kind that sinks into your chest and slows down your thoughts.

That night, I sipped tea out of a steel cup and shared awkward introductions with people I’d be hiking with for the next few days. We laughed about how unfit we all felt and how nobody packed the “right socks.”

Day 2: Into the Forest

The trek officially began the next morning. Destination: Juda Ka Talab. Around 4 or 5 kilometers uphill, but man, those were some 4–5 km.

The trail winds through pine forests that smell like winter and freedom. Every now and then we’d stop—not because we were tired (well, not always), but because the silence was just… addictive. I swear I’ve never heard trees breathe until then.

Juda Ka Talab was like a postcard. A frozen lake surrounded by snow-covered ground and trees that looked like they’d been dusted with sugar. That night we camped nearby, wrapped in four layers, sipping soup by a little bonfire. You’d think we’d all be on our phones, but nope. No signal, no distractions. Just stories, laughter, and stars that looked close enough to touch.

Day 3: The Climb Gets Real

Next stop: Kedarkantha base camp. The trail got steeper, the snow thicker, and the breath shorter. But I kind of loved it. I’d never trekked in snow before, and there’s something seriously fun about slipping, laughing it off, and getting back up.

We reached the base by early afternoon. It was quiet again—like mountain-quiet, not awkward-quiet. You sit there looking around and you get that weird feeling where you’re both small and alive at the same time.

That night, the temperature dropped like crazy. I couldn’t feel my nose. But my heart? Oh, that thing was wide awake.

Day 4: Summit Day

Woke up at 3 a.m. It was freezing, and everything in me said “nope,” but we were all up. Headlamps on, boots laced tight, bodies shivering but spirits high.

The last climb to the top of the Kedarkantha trek is not a walk in the park. It’s steep. It’s cold. You’re half-asleep and gasping for breath. But then you turn around and see the sky changing—from black to deep blue to streaks of orange.

And when we finally reached the summit... I just stood there.

12,500 feet. Cold wind on my face. Snow crunching under my boots. And in every direction—peaks. Endless peaks. Swargarohini. Bandarpoonch. Names I couldn’t pronounce but will never forget.

Nobody said much. We just stood in silence, each lost in our own version of awe.

Day 5: Downhill, But Not Really

Coming down was easier on the lungs, tougher on the knees. But we were lighter. Not just our backpacks—our minds too. We laughed more, shared trail snacks, helped each other down the icy slopes.

Back at Sankri, it almost felt surreal. Like we were back to reality but still floating somewhere between gratitude and exhaustion. I had blisters. My legs hated me. But I wouldn’t change a thing.

What Makes the Kedarkantha Trek So Special?

I’ve been asked this a few times now, and honestly—it’s hard to explain. The snow is beautiful, sure. The views are insane. The trail is friendly, even if you’re not a hardcore trekker. But the real magic?

It’s in the little moments.

It's sipping chai after a long climb. In the shared silence with someone you met two days ago. In the way your body protests but your heart keeps pulling you forward. In the summit sunrise that doesn’t just light up the mountains—but you, too.

The Kedarkantha trek doesn’t just show you a new place. It shows you a version of yourself you forgot was there.

A Few Things I Learned (The Hard Way)

Layers > bulk. One good thermal, one fleece, one down jacket. That’s the combo.

Break in your shoes. Seriously. New shoes on a snow trek = regrets.

Altitude hits weird. Take it slow. Breathe. Don't rush the trail or the experience.

Don’t over-plan. The best moments? The unplanned ones.

Keep your phone away. The mountains look better when you're not watching them through a screen.

Who Is This Trek For?

Anyone who’s tired of being tired. Anyone who wants to feel something again—joy, fear, peace, purpose. You don’t need to be super fit. Just come with an open heart and a half-decent jacket.

The Kedarkantha trek is perfect if:

You’ve never trekked but want to start.

You miss the sound of silence.

You’re stuck in your head and need space.

You want to feel small in the best way possible.

Final Words (Or Maybe Just the Beginning)

When I came back, a friend asked me, “So, was it worth it?”

And I laughed. Not because it was a silly question. But because “worth it” doesn’t even begin to cover it.

Kedarkantha Trek reminded me that sometimes the best scenes come after the most difficult climb. This silence is not empty - it is full of answers. And that is still beauty in this chaotic world if you are ready to follow it for some cold, icy, amazing days.

If you are reading it and wondering if you should go.

Trust me. The mountain’s waiting.