Nepal Hiking Journal

Knowing the climb would be hard, I was still surprised by how punishing it was—one kilometer straight up, each step a reminder. Yet along the trail, the physical challenge gave way to something deeper: a quiet unraveling of self, stirred by human connection and the mountains’ immense silence. This trek is more than scenery—it’s a reciprocal awakening. The people I’ve met, from local Sherpas to fellow travelers, all contribute to this shared rhythm of effort, awe, and endurance.

As the days passed, the pain in my knees became constant, a grinding reminder of limitations. Still, I pressed on. I missed Everest Base Camp but stood atop Kala Pattar, watching the sun rise over Everest—frozen, exhausted, but fulfilled. It wasn’t about the milestone, but the meaning I assigned to it.

Moments of solitude—beside mountain streams or in the stillness of snow—became meditation. Beauty here doesn’t need to be found; it simply is, like the lichen clinging to rocks. I feel myself changing with the altitude, drawn not just forward, but inward.

Despite the discomfort, or perhaps because of it, I have never felt more alive. Life is good. Even if my knees would argue otherwise.