The plan was to wake up as early as possible. I had set my alarm for 5 AM and told the hotel dai to prepare breakfast for me. Since I went to bed early, I knew I’d wake up before the alarm. And sure enough, I did.
I remember opening my eyes at around 2 AM. From then on, I tried to summon my nindra devi, but she was already udisakythin. I kept thinking, “I’ll reach Panch Pokhari, take a round of each pond, get some videos, head to the viewpoint quickly, take more videos, and then return to the same hotel or at least Nosyam Pati.”
But then, another thought crossed my mind: “Maybe I should just stay at the viewpoint and try to immerse myself in nature since I’ve come all this way.”
See, I had no one to discuss these thoughts with, and I had so many plans in my mind, each one seeming like it would work. Every time I thought of something new, it felt like the best option.
As these thoughts swirled around, the alarm rang. I woke up and peeked outside—it was still pitch dark. Maybe I should just lie back down and wake up after half an hour. Of course, everyone else in the hotel was still asleep. So, without making a sound, I laid back down, hoping to get some sleep.
But, naturally, that didn’t happen! After the same thoughts kept circling, I just got fed up. So, I decided to get up and get on with my morning routine. By then, the hotel dai had already woken up and even offered me hot water to freshen up.
A tip for all of you: Always bring wet wipes on treks, even if there are good hotels. I learned this the hard way during my Mardi Base Camp trek. The water in the high altitude region can be freezing, and sometimes it’ll just be ice.
That was the situation in Rato Mato too. In fact, even the toilet was super remote—the most remote I’d encountered. It felt like I was camping. The hotel was like that, too. The only good thing about it was that the mountains felt a bit closer.
Once I was ready, I had noodles for breakfast. As mentioned in the earlier part, I was depending on this for the day. I was hoping the viewpoint hotel owner would walk alongside me, but he chose to go with the five boys instead. I wasn’t disappointed, though. I wanted to do this trek all alone anyway, so I said, “Fine. I’ll catch up with you somewhere.” Dai wished me luck, and off I went!
Today felt different. I had this newfound motivation that appeared out of nowhere. I was consoling myself all the way to Chokhar Danda. It didn’t take me an hour to get there—I felt quick, thanks to the morning energy.
And, of course, there was Nepal’s national flag, so I had to stop for some photos. It gave me a much-needed break. Once I finished, I continued toward Tap Kharka, feeling even more motivated than before.
Unlike yesterday, the excitement had grown. This time, I felt like I was on the right path. The snowy trail wasn’t too slippery, and for a moment, I thought I could’ve easily reached Nosyam Pati the day before.
The mountain view was breathtaking, and my hope that the snow had stopped started to feel real. Now, all I had to do was move quickly, explore, and return the same day, at least to Nosyam Pati. I wanted to catch the bus home tomorrow.
As I moved forward, I met the Nosyam Pati hotel owner. I asked how long it would take to reach his hotel, and he said about an hour. He asked if I was with friends, and I proudly answered, “Eklai aayeko ma ta!”
He teased me, saying I should’ve brought my wife, and I told him I wasn’t married. I felt like I looked older, even though I was just entering my mid-20s. Maybe by my age, many villagers were already married, so they probably expected the same from me.
Honestly, the path to Nosyam Pati was quite pretty—trees lined both sides and walking along the snowy trail felt refreshing. In about an hour, I reached Nosyam Pati, where I met the hotel owner’s son.
I asked him to prepare black tea for me and took out my snacks—a biscuit. Chiya-biscuit duo it is! The best Nepali breakfast? Definitely not!
Just as I was sipping my tea, the three guys from the bus arrived. Wow, they were quick today! Turns out, three of them were fast walkers, probably even faster than me, while the other two were slower (maybe due to less experience).
They stopped for lunch and waited for their friends and the viewpoint hotel owner (let’s call him Sherpa dai from here). Since my snack was finished, I decided to continue. I told the guys we should stay together at the hotel, but we weren’t sure whether it would be in Panch Pokhari or the viewpoint.
I asked about the path to Panch Pokhari, as there was another route that led to Hile Bhanjyang. I needed to be sure, especially since I was alone, even though there was a signboard. My motivation was running high, so I began the uphill climb quite quickly.
Soon enough, I met some locals who advised me to be careful, as the path was snowy and slippery. My fear returned. Slowly and steadily, I kept going. I had to reach my destination, no matter what. I had learned that it would take almost three hours from Nosyam Pati to reach Panch Pokhari.
The snowy path disappeared for a bit but then another path came with more snow. I was eager to reach Sat Ghumti, a spot I had seen in vlogs and TikToks. They said that after Sat Ghumti, you’d reach Lauribina, which was considered the hardest part of the trek.
People found it difficult in peak season, and here I was, trekking it in the off-season all alone. Just imagine!
I kept moving, and eventually, the path narrowed, and I was walking along ledges. Looking down, it felt like death was waiting. Most sections were blocked by snow, and I had to rely on the footsteps the locals had created for us. I reduced my speed to nearly half for safety.
Then, I passed trekkers returning from Panch Pokhari. They said they didn’t even make it to the viewpoint. That’s how much it had snowed in the high-altitude region. They were with a local porter, even he wasn’t able to make it to the top today.
This made me realize I wouldn’t reach the viewpoint either, and coming here solo had been a mistake! I made way for them on the narrow path and continued, hoping the boys would catch up.
Well, I hadn’t eaten lunch, and my energy was draining. My fear of the dangerous path added to the exhaustion. But I didn’t give up—I pushed on. I slipped a few times, but nothing major. I’d eaten an energy bar on the way to Nosyam Pati, and that was the only thing keeping me going.
Eventually, I reached Sat Ghumti. It was a strenuous climb, and I took it slow. I didn’t look back because it would only make me more scared. I had to climb this snowy uphill trail so carefully that every time I was on a ledge, my heart skipped a beat.
Somehow, I managed to cross this huge hill of seven big bends, and after a few minutes of a straight path (still narrow), I reached Pangsing Bisaune. It was a rest point. I took a break, hydrated, took a snap, but moved on quickly. I was determined to reach Panch Pokhari as fast as possible.
The board at Pangsing Bisaune said Panch Pokhari was just 1.5 km away. But walking in the mountains, climbing uphill, and navigating a snowy path meant it was still a long way to go. But at that moment, I felt I was close.
Maybe just a few minutes of walking would take me to the dangerous Lauribina that the trekkers had warned me about. I kept going, hoping to cross Lauribina quickly. Each steep section made me think, “This has to be Lauribina.”
At one point, I got confused. One path led uphill, and another went straight, followed by a downhill. I initially took the straight path, but upon noticing the downhill, I realized I’d made a mistake. I turned back and marked the path for the boys behind me, though they probably never saw it.
I continued and, after some time, finally encountered a steep uphill climb. There used to be stairs, but now, due to the snow, there was barely any room to put a foot. My small feet had to face the challenge even more.
I hydrated myself, took a deep breath, and gripped the sidebar, hoping it wouldn’t give way. My suggestion for this spot? A similar bar on the right side would make it much safer.
After almost reaching the top, I found that the bar had broken. My feet went cold, and my heart raced. There was barely space for my foot, and with my heavy bag and trekking pole, one slip would end it all.
But with “jo dar gaya so mar gaya” vibes, I pushed forward and managed to complete Lauribina. It was a grand success. I was so relieved I can’t explain here it in words. I looked down and asked myself, “How the heck did I do this?“, “How are the others going to manage this?“, and “How do locals do this every day?”
As the name suggests, Lauribina means “resting your stick“. Of course, I had to rest my trekking pole here after that strenuous climb. I took a photo, rested for about 15 minutes (waiting for the five guys so that I can be of help), hydrated, and then, it started to snow! It had been snowing lightly before, but now it was pouring.
I had experienced snowfall before, but not like this. The fear was still in my heart because I wasn’t sure what lay ahead. I was pretty confident I wouldn’t make it to the viewpoint, so I had already decided that I’d stay in Panch Pokhari today. The earlier local guy had told me the path to the only open hotel—Bhim Lama’s. But I honestly didn’t understand it at that moment.
I put on my raincoat and decided to keep going despite the snow. At this point, I was starting to hate the snow. I just wanted to see greenery again. If I were here in monsoon, the trail would’ve been much more beautiful.
But I chose the off-season path to create unique content. Let’s see if it pays off. If you’re reading this, let me know in the comments how much you’re enjoying this story. I’d love to hear from at least a few of you.
Let’s come back to my story now. After Lauribina, I was pretty confident I’d reach Panch Pokhari in no time. But that 1.5 km sign had probably tricked my brain. I was so angry because no matter how far I walked, I just wouldn’t reach Panch Pokhari.
After every climb, I thought, “This is probably it,” but no—there was more! The good thing was that the path wasn’t as bad from here onward, and my habit of walking in the snow made it a little easier than before.
After about an hour and a half, I reached a place called Mani. It said Panch Pokhari was now zero kilometers away. I finally felt happy. There was a small gumba, and I thought of reaching there, but the piled-up snow was so huge that if I stepped into it, I would go straight inside. I didn’t take the risk.
Since Panch Pokhari is a spot where Lord Mahadev was said to have been seen, I turned out to say “Har Har Mahadev” when I finally saw the Panch Pokhari board.
I was thrilled that I made it all alone, through this remote and slippery snowy path. I patted myself on the back. I had motivated myself, and talked to myself all along, and this was it.
I was finally in Panch Pokhari…
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