At 31, I decided to do something I'd never done before: trek solo in the Himalayas. The Hampta Pass trek in Himachal Pradesh seemed like the perfect challenge — not too difficult for a beginner, but challenging enough to feel like an achievement.
What I didn't anticipate was the altitude sickness that would hit me on the second day, the sudden hailstorm that appeared out of nowhere, or the profound silence that would change the way I think about solitude.
Day 1: excitement and naivety
The first day was easy. The trail was well-marked, the weather was perfect, and I was feeling confident. I walked through pine forests, crossed small streams, and made it to the campsite by 3 PM. I set up my tent, cooked dinner, and fell asleep under a sky full of stars.
I thought I had this in the bag.
"The mountains don't care about your plans. They're going to do what they want, and you have to be ready for it."
Day 3: the altitude hits
On the third day, I started feeling lightheaded and nauseous. My head was pounding, and I could barely walk 100 metres without stopping to catch my breath. That's when I realized I had altitude sickness, and it was only going to get worse if I kept pushing.
I made the decision to descend, which was humbling but necessary. The trekking guide I met told me that many first-timers make the same mistake of pushing too hard. He was right.
The silence that changed me
On the fourth day, after I had recovered, I found a quiet spot away from the trail. I sat there for an hour, just watching the clouds move across the valley. There was no sound except the wind and the distant call of birds.
It was the most beautiful silence I have ever heard.
