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Hampta Pass Diary - Reflections from the Hampta Pass Trek

Trekking offers lessons beyond the physical challenge—about ourselves, others, and the world around us. The Hampta Pass trek, with its mix of physical endurance and social interaction, is one of those experiences that teach you something new at every turn. You're pushed to step outside your comfort zone, not just through the terrain but also by sharing space and time with complete strangers. This kind of trek shows you a new side of human behavior, and sometimes even yourself.

These adventures aren't just about the summit or the views, they're about the memories you collect—the good, the tough, and everything in between. Many lessons are learned through observation, and often, they are things you wouldn't notice in your daily life.

A Few Key Takeaways for Hampta Pass Trekking (for June/July)

Expect All Seasons in a Day

From start to finish, you might experience all three major weather types—sun, rain, and cold. Be prepared for fluctuating conditions, so pack layers for heat, cold, and everything in between.

Take Your Time to Acclimatize

With the elevation changes, it's crucial to give yourself enough time to adjust to both the altitude and the weather. This means taking it slow, staying mindful, and letting your body adapt.

Hydrate and Nourish

Whether you're hungry or not, always drink water and eat enough. Your body needs it to keep going, especially at higher altitudes.

Start Preparing Early

If you're not already active, start training before the trek. Exercises like jogging, running, or hiking will help build the endurance you need.

Realistic Expectations about Your Body

Pay attention to your physical fitness—your age, weight, strength, and overall health will impact how you handle the trek. Be honest with yourself about your limits and prepare accordingly.

Essentials to Pack

Some small, but extremely useful items to consider packing:

- A trekking pole (collapsible or a simple wooden one)

- A durable rain jacket/poncho and rain covers for your backpack

- Sunglasses, a sun cap, and UV-protective arm sleeves

- Extra pair of spectacles (if you wear them), plus a hard case for safekeeping

- Airtight plastic bags to keep clothes dry and prevent extra weight from wet items

- A waterproof phone cover or a waterproof phone (to capture the memories!)

- Shoes with good grip, comfort, and water resistance (consider crampons for snow)

- A lunchbox, water bottle, and a durable mug for tea/coffee

- A small medical kit for common ailments like headaches, fever, or stomach issues

- Wet wipes, hand sanitizers, and paper soap

- Extra plastic sheets/newspapers to keep things dry or use as insulation

And of course, if you're travelling with a partner, share the load—no need to double up on items!

The Trek's Human Element

One of the most fascinating parts of trekking with a group of strangers is seeing how different people respond to the same challenge. Some are there for the adventure, others just want to pass the time. Some have come to conquer the trek, while others are simply accompanying a friend or partner.

You’ll notice a wide spectrum of personalities—from those who follow every guideline to those who make spur-of-the-moment decisions, from seasoned trekkers to first-timers. It’s the variety that makes the experience rich—there’s always something to learn from how people behave under pressure.

Trekking suggestions based on Interests

Photography (Especially Bird watching):

If you’re a photographer, especially interested in bird photography, bring a DSLR with a standard lens (like 15-55mm). I wouldn't recommend heavy telephoto lenses like 200-600mm for the trek due to their weight and the risk of rain damaging them. But don't forget to capture the stunning wildlife!

Road Trips & Biking:

If you're into road trips, take a few extra days before or after the trek to explore the Kullu and Spiti valleys. Rent a bike in Kullu or Manali and enjoy some of the region's scenic routes.

Adventure Seekers:

Add a few extra days for some adventure activities like river rafting, zip-lining, or a hot air balloon ride. Kullu and Manali offer tons of exciting options.

Peace & Solitude Lovers:

If you cherish solitude and peaceful moments, stay longer around the base camps. The local lifestyle is slow-paced and serene. You can spend hours just sitting by the Beas River, listening to the sound of flowing water, and soaking in the calm.

Hampta Pass Diary - The shrubs of Kullu and Spiti valleys

Hampta Pass Diary - The journey through the eyes of camera

The view from Seobagh base camp

The view from near the Seobagh bridge

The panorama view from the top of acclimatization trek

View point at Jobra

The snake shaped plant on the way to Chikka

The drying fungus

The river - On the way from Jobra to Chikka

From sunlight to cloudy – Looking back at Chikka

Same point – Two views – Towards Chikka

Same point – Two views – Towards Balu Ka Gera

The rocks and the snow

Shining mountain peaks – As seen from Shea Goru camp site

The valley of the yellow flowers (On the way to Chhatru)

The lunch break area – On the way from Shea Goru to Chhatru

Panoramic view while looking in the opposite direction of Chandrataal

The streams flowing from the mountains into the Chandra river

And another one...

Saying goodbye to the Chandrataal lake from the iron bridge

One of many such water streams pouring the water on the dusty road

And another one...

The stone hills/mountains

Just some view from the road back to Chhatru

The sun and the rain

Hampta Pass Diary - The experience

Reflections after Returning Home

Though we were back home and settling into familiar surroundings, a part of us deeply missed the raw, natural beauty of the trek—the crisp, thin mountain air; the simplicity of three nourishing meals a day (aside from the occasional snacks); and the ever-changing scenery of towering peaks, flowing rivers, snow, rain, and biting cold.

Before we began the journey, we weren’t sure if we’d be able to complete it—whether we had the mental and physical strength to endure and embrace everything the trek would demand. We didn’t know if it would be easy or challenging, or somewhere in between. But now, looking back, the experience feels nothing short of extraordinary.

As with all things in life, there were highs and lows—but those are just points of comparison. What truly matters is that the journey itself was both a blessing and a blissful experience. Every person we met along the way added something to our story—each encounter, each shared moment, brought with it a lesson or a memory.

We all grew in some way. And in the end, it wasn’t just a trek—it was a transformation.

The journey of those who returned from Balu ka Ghera

After our group of trekkers heading toward Hampta Pass and then Shea Goru left, the seven members who were returning were asked to start their journey back as well. However, no guide was assigned to accompany them. They pleaded with the camp leader, who agreed to send a member from the kitchen to accompany them—but only until the river crossing—and only if they paid him, as it wasn’t his official duty. With no other option, the group agreed.

The kitchen staff accompanied them only as far as the river crossing—where I almost slipped and fell into the water, soaking myself and needing to change clothes. Beyond that point, they were on their own. Meanwhile, while it was just raining lightly toward Hampta Pass, the Kullu Valley was experiencing heavy, relentless rain. The returning group learned only after reaching base camp that a cloudburst had occurred on the opposite side of Manali, in the Kullu Valley. We found out later as well, once we crossed the Atal Tunnel and regained cellphone coverage, when we checked messages, news, and called others on our way back to base camp.

The return journey for the group was equally challenging, if not more so. The heavy rain made it difficult to follow the trekking trail, but with the help of the kitchen staff, they managed to reach the river safely.

The continuous rain since the previous night had swollen the river, making it dangerous to cross. With strong winds and no guide to assist, their only resource was sheer willpower. They couldn’t wait for the rain to stop nor could they stay put until conditions improved—they had to keep moving. After crossing the first river, they reached another fast-flowing river near the Chikka campsite, which we had crossed easily the day before in calm weather. This time, however, crossing on foot was impossible, and the group was already exhausted.

Fortunately, a merchant camping at Chikka had built a small ropeway-like structure to ferry goods across the river. For a fee, the group used this to cross safely. During the crossing, my elder uncle suffered a head injury. Although it wasn’t serious, it was painful, and we noticed it when we reunited at Seobagh base camp.

After crossing, the group contacted the camp leader at Chikka and asked if they could stay overnight to wait out the rain. Unfortunately, the camp leader refused, expecting about 38 trekkers arriving from Jobra that day and needing space. So, with little choice, they pressed on to Jobra.

Upon arrival in Jobra, they found no vehicles waiting to take them back to Seobagh base camp. Eventually, they managed to negotiate a ride with a local truck carrying supplies. Finally, they arrived back at base camp late at night.

The entire experience was far from ideal—there was no proper guide or accompaniment for the return journey, no place to rest during the heavy rains, and no transportation arranged. This pointed to a significant communication breakdown or lack of preparedness, despite the organization’s decades of trekking experience.

In the end, who are we to judge what went wrong or why? When you enter the mountains, it’s the mountains that decide your fate. From our limited perspective, we believed it was fortunate that some members turned back when they did—otherwise, they would have faced even greater hardship trekking from Balu ka Ghera to Shea Goru. What those who returned endured was at least as difficult, if not more.

Later, at base camp, some staff members acknowledged that oxygen levels alone are not reliable measures of health or fitness for trekking. They said appropriate actions would be taken against the camp leader responsible and against a trekker who disobeyed instructions by staying at the wrong camp instead of his designated one.

But none of that changed the reality of the unpleasant experience for those who returned. It was unexpected and unwanted, but sometimes, these are things beyond anyone’s control. Some decisions are made by others, and some outcomes are simply fate—the mysterious magic of the mountains.

Birds list

Yellow/Red billed magpie

Blue whistling thrush

Grey Himalayan treepie

Himalayan bulbul

Oriental magpie robin

White capped redstart

Altitudes of each location -

Seobagh base camp - 1397 m. (4583 ft)

Jobra - 2786 m. (9140 ft)

Chhikka - 2997 m. (9833 ft)

Balu ka ghera - 3615 m. (11860 ft)

Hampa pass - 4280 m. (14042 ft)

Shea goru - 3933 m. (12904 ft)

Chhatru - 3317 m. (10883 ft)

Chandrataal - 4278 m. (14035 ft)

Hampta Pass Diary – Chapter-9 : The return journey – Part-2

29-June-2025 - Chandigadh onboarding

The alarms went off, and we all woke up. After freshening up, we packed our bags, paid for our stay at Gujarati Samaj, and began trying to book taxis to the railway station.

That turned out to be more difficult than expected.

It had rained heavily throughout the night, and while Chandigarh is a well-planned city, we hadn’t anticipated the extent of waterlogging. Many roads were flooded, and no drivers were accepting bookings. We even increased the fare amount in hopes of getting a confirmed ride. A few bookings did go through—but either the drivers canceled, or the wait time was too long and we had to cancel ourselves.

Eventually, one taxi arrived for my cousin, his wife, and my uncle. The three of them left for the station while the rest of us continued trying. About 15 minutes later, I finally received a confirmation. The driver reached in another 10 minutes.

He warned that the usual route to the station was flooded, and he’d need to take a longer detour, which would cost extra. With no time or better options—it was already around 4:45 a.m., and our train was scheduled for 5:40—we agreed.

We loaded our bags into the cab and started our journey to the station. Many roads were flooded, and we saw several cars stranded—likely stalled due to water damage. Some had their hoods open, engines steaming or wet. We were worried whether we’d make it on time.

Thankfully, we reached the station around 5:20 a.m.

We assumed the first taxi had already arrived, but when we called them, they were still stuck in traffic due to waterlogging. A few minutes later, they made it as well, and we all walked to the platform together.

We found our coach—3AC—and went to our seats. Though we were all in the same bogie, our seats were spread out. The train departed a few minutes late, likely because of the continuing rain and possible delays in passenger arrival. As soon as it moved, most of us dozed off again.

The Journey Home

After a few hours of sleep or scattered naps, people began waking up. Tea vendors started making their rounds, and with general movement in the coach, uninterrupted sleep became difficult. Once we were all awake, we gathered in a compartment for breakfast.

We spoke to a few fellow passengers and managed to swap a couple of seats so we could all sit together. As it was now daytime, we passed the time playing card games. I gave Mr. Vikram a call to check if he had boarded—and he had.

We spent the late morning and early afternoon chatting, scrolling through our phones, and playing more games. Lunch was followed by some downtime—more naps or simply relaxing with our phones.

Mr. Vikram came by to visit us and shared how challenging their overnight journey from Kullu to Chandigarh had been, as the rain had affected much of the region.

The rest of the day passed quietly. We continued with our games and conversations into the evening, and had dinner a little after 8 p.m.

Midnight Departures

My cousin, his wife, and our nephew were scheduled to get off the train around midnight. Since we might not wake up during their departure, we said our goodbyes before going to sleep.

Sleep, however, remained light and intermittent. The train made frequent stops, even at places not designated on the route—likely due to signal issues.

At one such stop, I overheard that we were nearing a location that would be more convenient for my cousin to get down, rather than the scheduled station which was farther from their home. I woke up our nephew, who checked the location, confirmed with my cousin, and the three of them got off after our final goodbyes.

A few hours later—around 4 a.m.—my uncle was supposed to get off. But I slept through the stop, and only realized it had passed when I woke up later. He had deboarded quietly, not wanting to disturb our sleep. In the morning, we saw his message that he had reached home safely.

Final Leg

Now it was just the two of us, with the last stop scheduled around 7:34 a.m. I woke up a bit earlier, and as the train neared our destination, I gently woke up my wife. We gathered our bags, got down at the final stop—and just like that, our long and unforgettable journey came to a close.

30-June-2025 - Bandra offboarding and Bandra to Dadar

The Return Journey: A Different Experience

Our return journey unfolded quite differently from our onward one. After getting off the train at our first stop in Mumbai around 8 a.m., we needed to head to another station to catch our connecting train home. While we were aware that the local train could take us there, we also knew that traveling during peak morning hours in Mumbai could be challenging due to the rush-hour crowd.

So instead of heading straight to the local station, we returned to the same general waiting area we had used during our initial journey. However, with several hours to spare before our next train—scheduled around 1 p.m.—we decided to explore a bit.

While walking around, we noticed a paid AC waiting room operated by IRCTC. It looked clean, well-maintained, and far more comfortable, with sofa seating and a peaceful environment. We went in, inquired about the charges, and decided it was worth it. The fee even included breakfast and tea. Once we paid, we were served a simple meal, freshened up, and spent the next hour or so relaxing and scrolling through our phones.

Around 10:45 a.m., we began walking towards the local train station, which was roughly 800 meters away. On the way, we purchased our tickets. As always with Mumbai locals, the train frequency was excellent—one arrived within 10 minutes. We boarded, even though the compartment seemed to be meant for porters or luggage; it didn’t matter much as the journey was short.

In about 15–20 minutes, we reached our destination and got down. We instinctively returned to the same bench we had sat on during our earlier journey, then made our way to the platform from which long-distance trains depart.

Since we were early, we had over an hour to wait. We placed our luggage down and stood nearby like the rest of the passengers awaiting their trains. While mobile phones could help pass the time, we were cautious—being on a Mumbai railway platform isn’t always the most secure or comfortable place to use devices.

My wife pulled out her phone and began reading her usual novel, while I just sat observing everything around me. I found a spot on a railing—not the most comfortable, but a welcome break from standing in Mumbai’s sticky, humid weather. After a while, a space on the railing opened up for my wife too. Eventually, as a couple of trains came and went, a bench was vacated. We quickly moved there with our luggage, settling in to wait for our train’s arrival.

The Final Stretch - Dadar to Pune

About 15–20 minutes later, our train arrived. We boarded promptly, found our seats, stowed our luggage, and settled in. The journey ahead wasn’t very long, so although we felt a bit drowsy, we didn’t really sleep. Instead, we passed the time snacking, chatting, scrolling through our phones—and I even managed a few short naps while sitting upright.

As the train moved through the outskirts of Mumbai, we watched the waterways give way to the lush green hills of the Western Ghats. The rain had started again by then, and soon we were passing through a series of tunnels, a familiar and scenic part of the route.

After a couple of hours, we reached Lonavala station. A group of youngsters seated across from us got down there, and the journey entered its final leg.

Roughly an hour later, we arrived at our final destination station. Just one last "adventure" remained—navigating our way out with the luggage. Thankfully, the bags were lighter now, as we’d consumed most of the snacks and other packed items during the trip.

Outside the station, we faced the usual challenge: booking a cab. With ever-changing taxi union demands and the tug-of-war between central and state transport regulations, it’s rarely straightforward. But after a bit of effort, we managed to get one.

About 40 minutes later, we were finally home—home sweet home—closing the chapter on an incredible and unforgettable journey.

Hampta Pass Diary – Chapter-8 : The return journey – Part-1

28-June-2025 - Seobagh to Kullu

That night was slightly better than the previous ones, but not by much. I still had intermittent sleep and eventually woke up around 4 a.m. After taking care of my morning routine, I spent some quiet time sky-gazing and listening to the birdsong and the soothing sound of the Beas River—just like when we first arrived at the base camp.

The camp itself looked quite empty. Only five members were scheduled to leave for the trek that day, and no one else from the next batch had arrived yet. Many from our group had already checked out the previous day.

Soon, I spotted Mr. Vikram. Their initial plan was to check out the day before, visit Sissu, and then catch a train from Chandigarh—the same train we were booked on. But they’d changed their plans, likely due to heavy rains in the Kullu Valley. Instead, they decided to leave from the base camp that morning and head straight to Chandigarh, aiming to reach a few hours before the train's departure.

By the time tea was served, everyone was up and getting ready—some for trekking, others to check out, and a few to explore nearby places before checking out. We had our tea, followed shortly by breakfast. Since we had plenty of time, we enjoyed both at a relaxed pace.

After breakfast, we headed outside. My wife and my cousin’s wife wanted to pick fresh fruits—like plums—so we strolled around and gathered quite a few. My cousin’s wife wanted to bring some back for her office colleagues, so she and my wife kept hunting for more fruit trees and picking as much as they could.

Around 9 a.m., once our group was ready, we checked out from the base camp and waited by the roadside for local buses heading from Naggar to Kullu. Normally, buses—both government and private—pass every 15–20 minutes, but that day was different. We waited for nearly 30–40 minutes, and only one bus passed by, already packed full.

While we were waiting, Mr. Suman ji and Mr. Tek Chand ji came out—they were heading toward Naggar to explore a bit, so we said our goodbyes. Mr. Suman ji seemed much better, and his injuries were healing well.

My wife and cousin’s wife were in a bit of a hurry—they wanted to reach Kullu early to do some shopping. So they took the next bus that came, but the rest of us couldn’t board because we had all the luggage with us.

To add to the confusion, we missed another bus because we were standing on the wrong side of the road—buses from Naggar to Kullu were actually going on the opposite side. As time went on, we tried flagging down any four-wheelers that could take us to Kullu, but had no luck.

At one point, a utility truck stopped when we signaled, but the driver wasn’t on duty. He said he couldn’t drop us but would ask his friends if they could help and then drove off.

We waited again with no success. Then we remembered we had the number of the driver who had dropped us at Seobagh from Kullu. I gave him a call, and he said he’d arrange something for us. So we waited a little more.

A large auto-rickshaw soon arrived to drop some passengers, and we asked if he could take us to Kullu with our luggage. He agreed, but just as we were about to board, the driver I had called informed us that he’d arranged two cabs for us, and they were on their way—should arrive in about 10 minutes. So we let the auto go.

About 15 minutes later, both cabs arrived. We had requested two, assuming we’d be six people with a lot of luggage. But since my wife and cousin’s wife had already gone ahead to Kullu, we were now just four—though we still had all the luggage, including theirs.

We loaded up the cabs, said our final goodbyes to the base camp, and set off.

Within 20 minutes, we reached Kullu bus stand. We unloaded our luggage and settled down at the same spot we had sat on when we first arrived, but this time it was broad daylight and the bus stand was bustling with activity.

My cousin went to find the two ladies and make sure they made it back on time. Meanwhile, we asked around about our bus and waited.

They returned around 11 a.m., and I went to check if the bus was parked at its designated spot. It was. I came back, and all of us carried our luggage to the bus, loaded it into the compartments, and took our seats—ready for the journey back home.

Kullu to Chandigadh

The bus departed on time, and we were each given a bottle of water as we settled in and tried to get some sleep. Unlike our journey from Chandigarh to Kullu—which was overnight and passed mostly in sleep due to exhaustion—this time we were well-rested from our stay at the base camp, and the travel was during the day. So, we kept our eyes open and soaked in the beautiful scenery as the bus wound its way along the hilly roads.

Majestic mountain ranges stretched beside us, as if they were silently journeying alongside. The Beas River flowed steadily beside the road, accompanying us all the way from Seobagh until it eventually disappeared behind a dam. As we continued, we noticed a gradual change—the mountains became smaller, their heights slowly diminishing as we descended.

In between, we dozed off here and there, slipping into short naps, only to wake again to watch the landscape change outside the windows.

After a couple of hours, once the hills were mostly behind us and the plains had opened up—leaving the mountains far in the background—we stopped for a lunch break. We had our meal and then reboarded the bus.

With the mountains now behind us, most of us shifted back into “digital mode”—scrolling through our phones, replying to messages, or simply drifting in and out of sleep again.

By evening, we reached the ISBT bus stand in Chandigarh. It was raining, and we still had almost 12 hours until our train, which was scheduled to depart at 5 a.m. The cousin quickly searched online and found availability at Gujarati Samaj, a non-profit guesthouse run by a trust for people from Gujarat.

We tried booking a taxi but had no luck. When we attempted to walk toward the bus stand gate to find transport, we found it flooded. So we headed toward the rickshaw stand instead, asked around, and decided to take two rickshaws—since we were six people. They dropped us off safely at Gujarati Samaj.

We checked into two rooms—one for the gents and one for the ladies. It was already late evening, and everyone was hungry. After a bit of discussion and taking everyone’s food preferences into account, we ordered dinner online.

While waiting for the food to arrive, we played a few rounds of card games. Once the meal came, we ate together and then headed to bed, setting alarms for around 3 a.m.

Though the sleep was short, it was deep and refreshing—after all, we finally had real beds and pillows for the first time in over a week.

Hampta Pass Diary – Chapter-7 : Chandrataal - The beautiful origin of Chandra river

Chandrataal Lake Visit and Return Journey

27-June-2025 - Chhatru to Chandrataal - 4278 m. (14035 ft)

It was yet another repeat of the previous few nights—I woke up right as my alarm rang around 4 a.m. After some partial stargazing—or rather sky gazing—I eased into the daily routine. Soon, others began to stir as well. We had to move early to avoid the rush at Chandrataal (AKA Chandartaal) Lake and return on time.

The early morning light

Before we realized, tea was ready, and we were asked to pack our rucksacks and leave them in a designated tent. Only essentials—water bottles, raincoats, umbrellas, snacks, etc.—were to be carried for the Chandrataal visit. Breakfast was simple—Maggi noodles—and as soon as it was ready, everyone dug in. After breakfast, we packed the rest of our belongings into small bags or pouches and stashed our main rucksacks in the storage tent, as we had to vacate our sleeping tents for the next group.

We had four vehicles for the journey: one Tempo Traveller and three SUVs (like Toofan or Sumo), though these were different from the ones that had dropped us off at Jobra. As expected, there was the usual scramble for seats, but this time the group was smaller, and the vehicles had enough space for everyone to sit comfortably.

The five of us were ready and looked for seats together. The Tempo Traveller was nearly full, and two SUVs already had a few passengers, but we found one SUV completely empty and claimed it. This time, there was no segregation—everyone sat together, regardless of gender. The driver and one of the guides arrived soon after. The driver noticed we were already seated, coordinated quickly with the other drivers and the guide, and then took the wheel. We were the first to leave the camp, and our driver maintained a steady, cautious pace.

We crossed a bridge over the Chandra River and passed the Chhatru market—which, as mentioned earlier, was just a cluster of local snack stalls or makeshift tented hotels. A few kilometers down the road, the Tempo Traveller and another SUV overtook us. The road wasn’t really a “road”—just a flattened patch of earth, roughened by frequent traffic and rains. Still, the ride was scenic and peaceful. All around us was nature in its raw beauty: towering mountains, snow-capped peaks, the flowing Chandra River, the vast plains of the Spiti Valley, and small waterfalls cascading beside the road.

Eventually, the last SUV overtook us too, but it slowed down ahead and the driver signaled ours to pick up the pace. Our driver obliged, but still kept it safe—not like the others who were driving a bit recklessly.

Despite the bumpy ride, the scenery made it all worthwhile. About an hour after leaving Chhatru, we reached a checkpoint near another iron bridge. The Tempo Traveller had stopped there, and a few people were having tea and snacks. We continued on, crossing the bridge. From there, the road narrowed considerably—mountains loomed on one side, and a deep valley with the Chandra River flowed on the other. The track remained rough, with sharp bends, inclines, and the occasional stream to cross. We saw a mix of vehicles heading both ways and many bikers navigating the route. A few bikes even slipped while crossing a water stream, due to the large rocks and strong current—but thankfully, no one was hurt.

The Chandra river and the road to Chandrataal lake

After another hour to an hour and a half, we reached the entry point to Chandrataal, where the other SUVs were waiting. Visitors had to purchase entry tickets—₹200 per person. Our guide and driver were exempt. The fee was collected by the Forest Department, as this area falls within a protected forest sanctuary. They also reminded us to avoid littering, especially plastics.

Another 20–25 minutes’ drive brought us to the Chandrataal parking area. Along the way, we passed multiple camping sites, including a massive camp city with over 100 tents, offering overnight stays near the lake.

The tent city near the Chandrataal lake

When we arrived, around 30–40 vehicles were already parked. From there, it was a 2–3 km walk/trek to the lake. The surroundings were breathtaking—pure, unspoiled nature. And then, there it was—Chandrataal Lake. It’s hard to put into words how beautiful it is. But it’s not just the lake—the entire trek leading up to it is a visual treat. The lake water was crystal-clear, with a stunning light blue-green hue. We clicked a few photos and began climbing a small hill beside the lake. The weather was sunny and warm, and though the climb was tiring, it was absolutely worth it.

The 360 degree scenic view - Near the Chandrataal lake

At Chandrataal Lake

The beauty itself

Our cousin-nephew and Mahi joined us for part of the climb, stopping midway for photos. We pushed ahead to the top, and the view from there was magnificent—on one side, the lake and the surrounding peaks; on the other, vast plains, a water reservoir, and snow-capped mountains in the distance. The entire scene was mesmerizing.

The view of the other side from the top

The view of the Chandrataal lake from the top

The grass, the water, the mountain and the sun

A group photo session for our batch had been scheduled at 10 a.m. by the lake, so we climbed down just in time. When we arrived, individual photos were already being taken with the group banner, followed by some couple shots and finally group photos.

After all that, we began our walk back.

But one thing left a bitter aftertaste—the pollution. People had thrown garbage near the lake, some were bathing in it, others were tossing stones into the water just for fun. It was disheartening to see such disregard for a place so naturally pristine. One can only wonder—when will we learn to just be, and simply coexist without leaving a mess behind?

Return Journey: Chandrataal to Chhatru (3,317 m / 10,883 ft)

Once we were back at the parking area, we waited a few minutes for our driver and the rest of the group to return. By then, it was already 10:30 a.m., and more vehicles and people were arriving at the lake. With the sun fully out, it was getting quite hot.

As we began our return journey, we encountered traffic jams at several points along the way. We made the most of these stops by taking photos through the vehicle windows. While the driver remained cautious, he wasn’t as careful as he had been on the way to Chandrataal. Between the bumpy ride and the dusty trail, by the time we reached back in a couple of hours, we were quite literally coated in a fine layer of golden dust—sparkling particles covering our clothes and skin. It was especially noticeable for the two of us sitting in the back seats—my nephew and me.

The path that awarded us with shiny golden skin & clothes

The Sheep and the Shepherd

From Chhatru to Seobagh Base Camp (1,397 m / 4,583 ft)

By the time we reached Chhatru, a couple of members from the Shea Goru group had already arrived. They were surprisingly early—perhaps they didn’t take as many breaks as we did. Lunch was ready, and as each vehicle arrived, everyone was asked to eat, collect their rucksacks, and reboard their vehicles.

We finished our lunch, but when we returned to our vehicle, Mr. Suman ji and Mr. Tek Chand ji were already seated inside. When we asked them about it, they explained that someone had taken their spots in the Tempo Traveller (TT), so they had shifted to our SUV instead. None of us five liked that situation. We went to the TT and asked the guides for help, but there was no resolution. Eventually, we decided to adjust: my wife and I would move to a different SUV—the one where two members had shifted into the TT—and my cousin, his wife, and our nephew would stay in the original SUV.

Soon, all the vehicles started the journey back to the Seobagh base camp via the Atal Tunnel. It didn’t take long to understand why those two members had switched vehicles—they had clearly wanted to escape the reckless driver of the SUV we had just entered. My wife and I were seated in the back, and we were practically airborne half the time. The road was still rough, and the driver showed little regard for comfort or caution.

Telling good bye to Chhatru and the Spiti valley

From dry to the green valley

After about 45–50 minutes of this jarring ride, we finally hit the highway, which was relatively smoother. But even then, the driver’s rough style didn’t change. We passed through the Atal Tunnel, and noticed that it had started raining on this side—while the Spiti Valley side remained dry. We took a short break soon after exiting the tunnel because a few members wanted to make Instagram reels or go live on social media (they’d been doing this throughout the trip—even hanging halfway out of the SUV windows at times. That’s how intense the social media craze was!).

Finally on a pukka road

The unique houses on the way to Manali

The Atal tunnel

As we approached Manali, the traffic began to build up, and we encountered frequent jams. Eventually, we crossed Manali and continued towards Seobagh via the Kullu–Manali national highway. On the way, we saw several adventure activities—hot air balloons and more.

Just a view from the road

We finally reached the base camp around 4:30 p.m., with only one SUV having arrived before us.

Evening at Base Camp & Certificate Distribution

Some of our family members—who were scheduled to return that day—were already there. We took the same tent, had some relaxed conversations, and then went for tea. As the rest of our group returned, we listened to their experience—which I’ll describe in the next section—and it was quite concerning.

Other vehicles began arriving gradually. As soon as we received our membership cards, we collected our luggage, returned our rucksacks and inner sleeping bags, and completed the formalities.

By then, evening had set in and some members had already started leaving. We said our goodbyes. Soon it was time for dinner, and we were informed that the certificate distribution would happen right after.

There was also a surprise—Dr. Jayesh’s wedding anniversary! Mr. Aditya and Mr. Suchith had secretly arranged for a cake, so we had the certificate distribution first, followed immediately by cake cutting and celebration.

During the celebration, we also found out that the next two trekking batches had been merged into one—with only five members in total. (The reason for this is explained in the next sections.)

It was already past 8:00 or 8:30 p.m., and more members began leaving. We said our final goodbyes and returned to our tents. We had already booked our return bus from Kullu for 11:30 a.m. the next day and settled in for the night.

Travel plans

Only six of us were returning together—my wife and I, my cousin and his wife, our nephew, and our younger uncle. The uncle-aunt and their daughter had a train to catch from Delhi, so they left separately. My other cousin (the son of my younger uncle) had gone to visit a friend, as he didn’t want to just wait at the base camp. He had already left the day after we returned and was planning to reach home on his own. Since he had been to Delhi multiple times before, my uncle was confident he could manage it without issue.