Prince’s Sar Pass Trek: A Thrillophilia Review of Adventure and Triumph
The overnight bus ride from Delhi to Kasol was like the opening chapter of an epic adventure. My sister, Julie, and I had taken our seats by the window, eager and restless, knowing that this journey was unlike anything we’d ever done before— it was our first trek!
Julie leaned over, her eyes wide with curiosity. “So, what if I slip on the snow? Why are we not carrying our own tents? And what about food?” Her rapid-fire questions were almost comical, and I found myself smiling as I patiently answered, “You’ll be fine. No, we won’t carry tents as Thrillophilia has covered it all. And yes, there’ll be food stops.”
The Bollywood tunes playing from the bus conductor’s playlist set the tone, blending with the excited chatter of fellow travelers. Julie hummed along occasionally, her enthusiasm infectious. I glanced at her and thought, ‘Let’s see if you’ll still be this bubbly tomorrow.’
Through the Rhododendron Forest
The trek officially began the next morning, and we were surrounded by the lush beauty of rhododendron forests as we hiked from Kasol to Grahan. The sunlight peeked through the dense canopy above, creating patterns on the trail.
Julie, as expected, was full of energy, hopping over rocks and pointing out every squirrel and bird we came across. “Look, Prince! I am sure I have seen that exact same tree in a fantasy movie!” she exclaimed, laughing as I reminded her to watch her footing.
The trail was a blend of rocky paths and gentle streams, and while the incline was manageable, it wasn’t long before Julie’s pace slowed.I handed her some water and teased, “It’s just the warm-up. Wait till we hit the real climb!” But truth be told, even I was feeling the strain.
When we reached Grahan, the sight of the quaint village with its wooden houses and the smell of freshly cooked Maggi was a welcome reward.
First Glimpse of Snow
The second stretch brought the promise of snow, and our excitement was palpable. As we ascended from Mung Thatch to Nagaru, the terrain became steeper and more challenging.
Julie slipped a few times, and my heart skipped every single time. “Careful, Julie! Hold my hand if you need to,” I insisted, to which she passed a cunning smile and then ran even faster, making everyone in the group laugh.
The newly formed bond among the trekkers and the encouragement from our trek leaders kept us going. Whenever one of us felt like giving up, someone would crack a joke or start singing, and the energy would return.
Then came the moment we’d been waiting for: a clearing where the snow-capped peaks came into view for the first time. Julie squealed with delight, running ahead to touch the snow. “It’s so cold!” she yelled, laughing. I couldn’t help but grin, knowing this moment would stay with us forever. We spent the evening throwing snowballs and taking pictures, feeling on top of the world even though the summit was still ahead.
Reaching the Summit: Sar Pass
The final climb to Sar Pass was nothing short of magical. The air grew thinner, the terrain more demanding, but with every step, the anticipation grew. When we finally reached the summit, it was as if time stood still. The panoramic view of the Himalayas was beyond anything I had imagined.
Julie and I stood side by side, our faces flushed with cold and exhilaration. “We did it!” she exclaimed, hugging me tightly. For a moment, I was overwhelmed— not just by the view, but by the realisation that my baby sister was now a big girl who just completed a trek with me.
We sat down on the snow, soaking in the beauty around us. Julie looked at me and said, “Prince, we need to do this more often. It’s like the mountains know how to reset your soul.” I nodded, unable to put my feelings into words.
The group celebrated with cheers and selfies, and someone even brought out a bar of chocolate to share. The sense of camaraderie at that moment was incredible. It wasn’t just about reaching the summit, it was about the journey, the people, and the memories we created along the way.
The Descent
The journey back was a breeze compared to the climb. From Biskeri Thach to Kasol, the trail felt almost playful, as if the mountains were congratulating us for making it. Julie, who had been so cautious on the way up, was now racing down with her new trekking friends.
We stopped at a tiny eatery for lunch, where someone started a game of dumb charades. Julie’s attempt at miming a Bollywood movie left everyone in stitches, and for a while, it felt like we were a big, happy family. As we approached Kasol, the lush greenery and flowing streams welcomed us back, and I felt a pang of sadness that the trek was coming to an end.
Even now, sitting at home, flipping through the photos, I can’t help but smile. The Sar Pass trek wasn’t just our first trek, it was a story we’d tell for years— a story of challenges, laughter, and a bond that grew stronger with every step.
Read More: Thrillophilia Sar Pass Reviews