Pindari Experience: A Trek Beyond the Ordinary

One fine evening in May 2023, three brave ladies and two equally adventurous gentlemen decided to embark on a trek to the Pindari Glacier in Uttarakhand, at a breathtaking altitude of 12,300 feet. The two gentlemen had navigated through the roughest seas with calm and resilience, while the ladies had managed their households with equal, if not greater, fortitude. When I was invited to join them on this adventure, I immediately jumped at the opportunity, drawn by our shared fraternity and a mutual love for adventure.

The Preparation and Departure

Preparations began in earnest. I rented all necessary gear—warm clothing, trekking boots, and bags—from a startup in Bangalore called SHAREPAL. Everything arrived in impeccable condition. I read blogs and sites describing the trek as ‘easy to moderate,’ and I thought, “Cool stuff!” Little did I know that I was in for a surprise, as I later found the trek to be on the higher end of ‘moderate.’

Before setting off, I underwent a heart 2D echo and a treadmill test—both came back normal, much to my relief. And so, we began our journey.

Day 1: Lucknow to Bhimtal (By Road 11 Hrs)

Being the youngest among the seafarers, I was appointed Chief Officer. After inspecting the lashings on our big SUV, I gave a thumbs-up to our two Captains. As a reward, I got the front seat while the generous Captains took the last row and the ladies occupied the middle. Eleven hours of uninterrupted driving later, we reached Bhimtal. The final stretch was frustrating as our Airbnb home proved elusive for quite some time, testing our patience right at the start.

Day 2: Bhimtal to Khati (7,355 feet, 9 Hours By Road)

The drive to Khati was long—another nine hours—but it wasn’t until the last 3-4 hours, when we began climbing the foothills of the Himalayas, that the journey truly became challenging. Three more ex-Captains joined us from Delhi, and I was pleased to find that I was still the youngest and, as I presumed, the fittest. I was wrong; they were seasoned trekkers and in much better shape than I was.

We arrived at Khati village around 7:30 PM, only to find it plunged in complete darkness. I asked the guide about it, but he simply smiled, leaving us all puzzled. Later I was told this place rarely gets electric supply. There was no mobile signal even, as the tower in the area was under repairs for last few days.

We trudged up the steep path toward our cottage, perched 200 feet above the spot where the taxis had dropped us off. The moonlit sky cast eerie shadows on the looming mountain peaks around us, and a heavy sense of foreboding settled in my chest. It felt like being adrift on a relentless, stormy sea with no land in sight, each step weighed down by uncertainty. The only comfort in that haunting darkness was the distant, calming murmur of the Pindari River, whispering from 3,00 feet below, a gentle reminder that we were not alone in this vast, untamed wilderness.

After freshening up and indulging in a delicious Pahari dinner lovingly prepared by the tour guide staff, accompanied by a warm peg of Old Monk Rum, the atmosphere softened and turned almost magical. The tension dissolved, replaced by a sense of tranquility so profound it felt like being gently cradled. As I closed my eyes, I could almost feel as if I am on a large tanker gliding serenely through a glassy, moonlit sea.

Day 3: Khati to Dwali (8,666 feet , 13 Kms, 9 Hours Trek)

Our first leg of the trek began early in the morning. Six sea-hardened sailors and three equally resilient ladies, equipped with small backpacks, marched forward, brimming with confidence and excitement. The majestic mountains seemed to welcome us, their forest-covered slopes swaying gently in the breeze like a silent gesture of encouragement. The Pindari River’s rhythmic lapping echoed our energy, cheering us on with every step. We weren’t alone on this journey; six sturdy mules and a dedicated team of tour guides accompanied us, sharing in the thrill and anticipation of our adventure into the heart of these magnificent peaks.

However, optimism soon mingled with desperation as the trek turned arduous—steep ascents followed by steep descents. “Walk like a confident Captain on the down slope, chest up and leaning slightly back. On the climb, hunch over like a drunken sailor with your head down and tilted forward,” I was advised. Finally, after 6 grueling hours, the PWD cottage came into view. My joy was boundless; it was like the first time I spotted a ship on the horizon as a cadet on a lookout watch.

The cottage, perched elegantly on a hill with the Kafni River to its right and the Pindari River to its left, was utterly mesmerising. Yet, the haunting remnants of the destruction wrought by a devastating cloudburst and landslide in February 2021 loomed nearby, serving as a sobering reminder of nature’s relentless fury. Below us, both rivers converged, flowing together in a graceful Y-shape, their mingling waters symbolizing the fragile balance between beauty and chaos in this breathtaking landscape.

After another two hours of exhausting walking, we finally reached the cottage.

Day 4: Dwali to Phurkia (10,465 feet, 5 Kms, 4 Hours Trek)

Day four was filled with enthusiasm. Confidence was evident in everyone’s demeanor as we set off on our next leg. The Pindari River still sang its soft, encouraging tune as the gorge deepened, and the landscape transformed—tall trees giving way to shorter shrubs and grasslands. 

This was a short but steep trek, fraught with danger. A single misstep could send us plummeting 400 feet down. We reached Phurkia around 2 PM. Unlike Dwali, this base camp was tucked away, hidden from view until we were practically on top of it. The temperature dropped to near zero, and the scene, shrouded in dark clouds and a thin layer of fog, might have been frightening for some. Not for us, though; we felt the embrace of Nanda Devi, Trishul, and Dungagiri Mountains, and knew we were blessed.

The evening campfire was a delight, and though excitement kept us awake, we awoke refreshed and ready for the final push.

Day 5: Phurkia to Zero Point (12,300 feet, 8 Kms, 4-5 Hours)

Our final leg began at 4 AM in pitch darkness. The sky was clear, and we set off with headlamps, feeling like seasoned trekkers. Under the moonlight, Mt. Nanda Khat loomed on our left, seemingly close enough to touch. As dawn broke, we were surrounded by towering peaks. The Pindari River, now 400 feet below, wound like a white serpent through the valley.

Then, our first barrier appeared—a snow slide. Crossing it was dangerous without ice-gripping boots, but we managed, carefully avoiding any missteps. There were more such slides, each as treacherous as the last, but we conquered them all.

And then, the moment of a lifetime unfolded before me. As the sun peeked above the eastern mountains, its first rays bathed Nanda Devi in golden light. She stood majestic, a goddess adorned in gold. I was mesmerized, frozen in awe. The surroundings blurred, and for the first time in my life, I truly understood the meaning of bliss.

Tears filled my eyes as I stood there, overwhelmed by her beauty and grace. When I finally moved on, I knew that for me, this journey was complete.

*The trek to Pindari Glacier was more than just a physical challenge; it was a journey into the depths of nature’s splendour and my own soul. It tested our limits, filled us with awe, and left us with memories that would last a lifetime. The mountains, the rivers, the snow-clad peaks—they weren’t just landscapes; they were a reflection of the strength and resilience within each of us.*