PART 6 - Beyond the Mountains: A Journey of Adventure, Emotion, and Human Connection

The overnight return journey to Delhi carried a strange silence. The same mountains stood unchanged outside, but within us something had shifted permanently.

Yet, even after reaching Delhi, the adventure was not over.

The bus dropped us at ISBT Kashmiri Gate at precisely 6:55 AM. Some participants had flights while others, including us returning to Nagpur, had trains several hours later.

Neerja quickly devised a survival plan. Luggage was deposited at the cloak room, and a movie with recliner seats was booked at a mall. What followed became another unexpectedly memorable mini-adventure. We sat outside the mall before opening hours eating leftover snacks from backpacks while exhausted bodies searched desperately for comfort.

The movie itself was terrible, but the recliners became recovery therapy. Most of us slept through the film while later accusing one another of snoring.

After food court meals and final conversations, we returned to the railway station, collected our luggage, boarded trains, and finally reached home on 2nd June.

By then, everyone had technically returned to offices, responsibilities, routines, and normal life. Yet mentally, a part of us still remained somewhere between tents, bonfires, rafting rapids, roadside corn, sleeping bags, mountain silence, and endless laughter.

That perhaps became the true success of the journey.

This expedition was never merely about trekking. It became a reminder that adulthood should never end curiosity, that women carrying responsibilities can still choose adventure, that emotional conversations matter as much as physical challenges, and that strangers can become family within days when life is experienced honestly together.

A few days earlier, we were individuals from different cities. By the end of the journey, we had become an extended family carrying shared memories, inside jokes, emotional moments, promises of future adventures, and pieces of each other’s stories.

And perhaps that is the most beautiful thing about travel.

Sometimes, people return carrying far more than luggage.

PART 5 - Beyond the Mountains: A Journey of Adventure, Emotion, and Human Connection

Then came 31st May — the final day in Manali.

And perhaps the most painful truth about beautiful journeys is this: the last day always arrives too quickly.

The morning began with rain and unbearable cold. Wet clothes hung outside tents. Half-packed bags reflected the beautiful disorder that meaningful journeys always leave behind.

Yet despite knowing this was the final day, excitement had not reduced.

The group headed towards the tunnel and Solang Valley, where bike rides through mountain roads became another unforgettable experience. Rivers flowed alongside the roads while clouds moved lazily around snow-covered ranges.

Photography had by now become an inseparable part of survival itself.

At the Sangam area, another amusing moment arrived when Faluda (Falguni) unintentionally became everyone’s “technical guru” by teaching that photographs could be clicked while recording videos simultaneously. What may sound ordinary elsewhere suddenly became revolutionary wisdom in the middle of the mountains, and immediately everyone began experimenting with the feature enthusiastically.

The day continued with momos, tea, Maggie, and another unexpectedly beautiful roadside stop for roasted sweet corn. Standing beside the highway, holding hot bhutta while rivers flowed nearby and biker groups passed waving enthusiastically created one of those simple moments that remain unforgettable for reasons difficult to explain.

Somewhere during those conversations, discussions about planning future biking trips also started emerging half-jokingly, half-seriously. That itself reflected how deeply this journey had expanded everyone’s imagination about life and possibility.

Back at the campsite, reality finally arrived in the form of packing.

And packing perhaps became the toughest physical challenge of the entire trip.

Wet jackets, sleeping bags, shopping items, souvenirs, snacks, trekking gear, and emotionally collected mountain stones had made bags impossibly heavy. Many participants , actually I literally sat on a luggage to close the chains.

Yet amidst all this chaos came one of the most touching moments of the journey.

Shakuntala Aunty distributed handmade greeting cards for every participant. Each card contained personal observations and thoughtful lines reflecting the individual personality of the recipient. In a world dominated by instant messages and temporary communication, those handmade emotions felt deeply meaningful.

Then came another emotional moment — the surprise birthday celebration for Bimla Aunty, whose birthday was on 1st June. The laughter, hugs, cake, and photographs carried a quiet truth within them: this was no longer just a trekking group.

It had become family.

As the buses finally left Manali for Delhi, the mountains remained standing silently outside while rivers continued flowing alongside the roads exactly as before. Yet inside the buses, everyone understood something had changed permanently.

A few days earlier, we had been strangers from different cities.

Now departure itself felt emotional.

And perhaps that became the most beautiful lesson of the entire journey — adventure is never only about mountains, rafting, trekking, or destinations.

It is about people who unknowingly become part of your life story.

One thing that deserves special mention throughout the entire expedition was the food. From the very first day until the final evening, meals never felt ordinary. After freezing mornings, difficult treks, and exhausting adventure activities, food became warmth, recovery, comfort, and togetherness.

Among all dishes, Siddu remained unforgettable. This traditional Himachali preparation, filled with walnut and masala stuffing, was brought specially from the trainer’s (Chandi Sir's) own home because the group had expressed curiosity about trying authentic local food.

That gesture made the meal memorable.

Because some experiences remain in memory not because they are luxurious, but because they are offered with sincerity.

And perhaps that summarises the entire journey perfectly.

Mountains gave us adventure.

People gave us belonging.

And together, both gave us memories that would continue travelling with us long after the journey itself ended.

PART 4 - Beyond the Mountains: A Journey of Adventure, Emotion, and Human Connection

If the earlier days of the journey introduced us to mountains, trekking, and adventure, the final two days transformed everything into something much deeper. By 30th May, the group was no longer functioning like participants from different cities. Somewhere between sleeping bags, bonfires, emotional conversations, difficult climbs, and endless laughter, strangers had quietly become an extended family.

And perhaps that is why the excitement surrounding rafting felt completely different from every previous activity.

From the morning itself, one word dominated the entire campsite — rafting.

The energy was louder. The excitement was more visible. Treks had already tested physical endurance and adventure activities had already introduced fear, but rafting carried a different promise altogether: chaos, cold water, screaming, and pure fun.

Most of us had imagined a simple rafting experience — maybe a few kilometres of flowing water, some photographs, and light adventure. But the moment we reached the rafting point, reality changed completely. This was not a short tourist ride. It was a 13- 15 kilometer white water rafting stretch.

Suddenly, everyone became serious.

Life jackets were tightened properly. Helmets were secured carefully. Mobiles and gadgets were left behind because one thing was guaranteed — nobody was remaining dry.

The group was divided into two rafts under the supervision of Vicky Bhaiyya and Bablu. Naturally, the so-called “young energy group” landed in Vicky Bhaiyya’s raft, and within minutes he himself became part of the entertainment. Funny, dramatic, energetic, and loud, he gave repeated instructions on how to paddle, balance, float, and most importantly, what to do when he shouted “GET DOWN!”

At that moment, everyone listened sincerely. Later, “Get down!” itself became the biggest joke of the trip.

The moment the raft entered the actual rapids, everything changed. The water crashed directly onto faces, the raft bounced violently, and suddenly nobody knew whether they were supposed to paddle, scream, laugh, or simply survive. The freezing river water shocked the body instantly, but after a few minutes fear transformed into excitement.

And then came the most unforgettable part of the day.

Mehak casually announced that she wanted to jump into the river. Before anyone could react properly, Yamini also decided to get down. The instructor immediately pushed her into the freezing current, and with that one push, complete madness began.

The first casualty of bravery was Yamini’s floating chappal.

Suddenly, alongside rafting, another emotional mission started — recovering the missing slipper. Meanwhile, Yamini floated in the freezing water laughing and struggling simultaneously.

Then excitement became contagious.

One after another, Mehak, Megha Didi, Falguni, and eventually I too entered the icy river. For a few seconds, the body genuinely stopped understanding what was happening. The cold felt powerful enough to freeze thought itself. But after the initial shock, there was only the present moment — water, current, laughter, screams, and complete surrender to the experience.

One by one, the instructors pulled us back into the raft through our life jackets “like floating luggage bags,” and somehow, miraculously, Yamini’s chappal also returned floating behind us later. At that point, the victory felt strangely personal.

By the time we reached the shore, everyone looked less like organised trekkers and more like survivors returning from a hilarious battle. People were shivering uncontrollably, sharing clothes, waiting desperately for washroom turns, clicking photographs, and replaying rafting moments loudly over one another.

And then came perhaps the greatest luxury possible after freezing river water — hot Maggie.

Bimla Aunty’s Maggie party felt more satisfying than any expensive restaurant meal could ever feel.

After the chaos of rafting came another much-awaited experience — visiting Mall Road.

Suddenly, adventure trekkers transformed into enthusiastic shoppers. Shawls, souvenirs, local food items, woollens, random emotional purchases, and endless shopping bags became the centre of attention. The monastery visit amidst all this market chaos brought a rare moment of silence and peace, almost like a pause button hidden inside the busy town.

That night, however, became unforgettable for another reason.

The planned Himachali dance session quickly transformed into a celebration of India itself. Gujarati songs, Marathi music, South Indian beats, and Haryanvi expressions filled the camp with uncontrollable energy. Payal’s graceful dancing, Megha’s enthusiasm, Mehek’s Hidden talent of saki saki and Shakuntala Aunty’s expressive Haryanvi dance brought out completely different sides of people.

By then, nobody cared about looking perfect. Everyone simply danced freely, loudly, and wholeheartedly.

That night revealed something beautiful — behind every trekking jacket and every serious introduction was a completely different personality waiting to emerge.

And after dancing like children who had forgotten adulthood for a while, everyone finally slept deeply inside the tents.

PART 3 - Beyond the Mountains: A Journey of Adventure, Emotion, and Human Connection

The morning of 29th May arrived with biting cold. Not the ordinary kind of winter chill, but the kind that slowly enters through jackets, gloves, sleeping bags, and still manages to reach the bones. Rainfall on the upper ranges during the night had turned the entire campsite into an ice-cold landscape. Yet despite the weather, excitement remained alive because another adventure-filled day awaited us.

After breakfast, we headed towards the activity area for rappelling and valley crossing. From a distance, such activities always appear cinematic and effortless, but standing at the edge with a harness tied changes everything. Fear suddenly becomes real, height looks much larger, and courage quietly transforms into a conscious decision.

The valley crossing became one of the most thrilling moments of the day. Suspended between two ends with nothing but depth below, the mind automatically enters complete focus. In those few moments, life becomes surprisingly simple — breathe steadily, trust the equipment, and keep moving. These activities tested much more than physical strength; they tested calmness, trust, and the ability to move despite fear.

After descending back to the base camp and having lunch, another unforgettable experience awaited us at the Atal Bihari Vajpayee Institute of Mountaineering and Allied Sports. The institute reflected the discipline, technical preparation, endurance, and scientific training behind every successful expedition.

Approx. 35 Years ago, On May 10, 1993, at just 19 years old, Three Girls Dicky, Deepu and Radha, stood on the summit of Mount Everest — becoming one of the youngest Indian woman to achieve this historic feat under the leadership of first Indian woman Everest Climber Bachendri Pal (Padma Bhushan).

The most inspiring moment came when we met Dicky Dolma and Radha Devi Thakur. Dicky Dolma created history in 1993 by becoming the youngest woman in the world at that time to summit Mount Everest at the age of nineteen. Her achievement was not merely a mountaineering record but a symbol of courage, discipline, and determination for young women across India.

Meeting Radha Devi Thakur carried equal inspiration. On May 10, 1993, at just 19 years old, Radha Devi Thakur became one of the first Indian women to stand on the summit of Mount Everest. 

But what stayed with me most from this conversation was her simple truth —“It is not motivation that takes you to great heights. It is discipline, health, and daily habits.”

From the mountains of Himachal Pradesh to the highest peak on Earth, her journey reflects consistency over hype, routine over excuses, and strength built quietly over time.

A conversation filled with wisdom, resilience, and lessons far beyond mountaineering.

The rain outside, the cold mountain air, the climbing equipment around us, and the stories of Everest together created an atmosphere impossible to forget. By evening, tiredness had settled deeply into the body, but so had satisfaction. As conversations continued over dinner, everyone carried back not only memories of adventure activities, but also the inspiration of meeting women who had turned impossible dreams into reality.

Days were passing, but more experiences were waiting for us to indulge in. 

PART 2 - Beyond the Mountains: A Journey of Adventure, Emotion, and Human Connection

The following day of the Women Adventure Network of India expedition marked the true beginning of trekking life. The morning no longer felt like a vacation. It began with packed tents, rolled sleeping bags, adjusted rucksacks, mule bags, and repeated instructions to be ready by 8 AM for the climb towards the higher campsite. Somewhere between the cold weather and hurried preparations, everyone realised that the journey had now transformed from travel into expedition.

The trek itself was both physically demanding and emotionally liberating. The mountains slowly removed city thoughts from the mind while steep climbs introduced tired legs, controlled breathing, and moments of silent self-reflection. Yet amidst the exhaustion, something beautiful unfolded naturally — women from different states, generations, and life experiences supported one another without competition or comparison. Sometimes motivation came through water, sometimes through laughter, and sometimes simply through waiting for someone to catch up.

After reaching the campsite, hot lemon tea felt like recovery itself. The second half of the day brought adventure activities including zipline, suspension bridge, and the 70-foot spider web climb. What initially looked intimidating slowly became a lesson in self-belief. Completing the climb felt less like conquering height and more like overcoming internal hesitation.

The evening ended around a bonfire with hot chocolate, songs, ghost stories, and endless conversations under the cold Himalayan sky. By night, the mountains no longer felt unfamiliar. Neither did the people.

Next day the expedition began differently from the previous days. There was no rush in the atmosphere. No loud excitement. No hurried energy. The morning felt colder, calmer, and somehow slower, as if the mountains themselves wanted everyone to pause for a while.

By now, mountain life had slowly started becoming familiar. The freezing air no longer felt shocking. Sleeping bags, which had initially felt uncomfortable and unfamiliar, had quietly become manageable companions. Everyone had adapted to a rhythm where alarms mattered less than sunlight, tea, and instructions from trek leaders.

Yet one thing remained constant in camp life — the desperate love for hot tea. In mountain weather, tea stops being a beverage and becomes emotional survival.

As participants slowly gathered for breakfast, the usual trek discussions filled the air. Questions about the climb, network availability, route difficulty, and repeated reassurances of “Bas thoda sa aur” became part of the morning humour. Beneath the laughter, however, everyone understood that the trek towards Tilgan would not be easy.

The climb tested the body immediately. Breathing became heavier, climbs became steeper, and breaks became more frequent. Yet strangely, every pause became beautiful. Every stop revealed another valley, another mountain range, another silence powerful enough to make exhaustion feel meaningful.

And then, step by step, the group finally reached Tilgan.

The feeling of reaching there was not excitement alone. It was satisfaction — the quiet kind that only effort creates. The mountains teach this lesson repeatedly: comfort achieved without struggle fades quickly, but places reached through effort remain emotionally permanent.

The cold air, the silence, and the vastness of the mountains created an atmosphere that felt less like tourism and more like introspection. Amidst this came another mountain luxury — “मेहनत वाली मैगी.” After hours of climbing in cold weather, Maggie and tea no longer felt like ordinary food. They felt like reward, comfort, and recovery served together.

However, the most transformative experience of the day was yet to come.

Bimla Deoskar Aunty gathered everyone for an activity that had nothing to do with physical endurance. Instead, it demanded emotional honesty. Each participant was asked to select an individual rock somewhere away from the group, sit alone facing the mountains, and silently think about three people they had never properly thanked and three people to whom they wished to apologise.

Initially, the activity sounded simple. But mountains have a strange ability to remove distraction. And when distractions disappear, suppressed emotions rise naturally.

Sitting alone amidst silence and endless mountains, memories surfaced quietly. Faces appeared unexpectedly in the mind. Gratitude long left unspoken suddenly felt heavy. Unfinished apologies returned with surprising clarity. It no longer felt like an activity. It felt like emotional release.

For some moments, nobody was trekking anymore. Everyone was travelling inward.

Later, Bimla Aunty shared stories from her own trekking experiences and adventures. Listening to her felt inspiring at a completely different level. Some people inspire not through motivational speeches but through the way they continue living fully despite age, hardship, or limitation. She belonged to that category entirely.

Eventually, the atmosphere became lighter again. Group photographs were taken proudly with the Women Adventure Network of India banner unfolding against the mountains. Those photographs carried more than smiles; they carried effort, resilience, and shared achievement.

The descent back to the campsite brought another reminder that mountains test people differently while coming down. Knees shook more, slippery sections felt riskier, and balance became equally important as stamina. Yet even that struggle became part of the experience.

After returning to the campsite, lunch felt deeply satisfying. In mountain life, food loses all superficiality. Nobody counts calories after a difficult climb. People simply eat with gratitude.

The afternoon gradually became quieter. Some rested inside tents. Some slept. Some simply lay down staring at tent ceilings, allowing their exhausted bodies to recover.

It was during this quieter phase of the day that another meaningful layer of the journey unfolded.

A casual stop near Geeta’s tent slowly transformed into a long conversation about mental health, emotional fatigue, relationships, loneliness, healing, and the silent burdens modern people carry while continuing to function normally. Being a mental health expert, Geeta brought extraordinary depth into these discussions. They were not theoretical conversations but deeply human ones.

And perhaps that became one of the most underrated moments of the journey — understanding that not every memorable adventure experience comes from climbing mountains. Some come from conversations that quietly stay within us long after the journey ends.

By evening, the atmosphere transformed once again. This time, the centre of attention became Shakuntala Aunty sorry Shakku, who slowly turned the campsite into an open-air discussion circle around numerology, astrology, mythology, palm reading, energies, and life patterns.

Birth dates suddenly became more important than trekking schedules. One by one, participants gathered around eagerly waiting for personality observations and numerological calculations. Some became serious instantly. Some laughed in disbelief when traits matched perfectly. Others quietly began analysing their own lives through the lens of these conversations.

What made the evening beautiful was not merely the subject itself, but the collective curiosity with which everyone participated. Eighteen women from different cities, age groups, professions, and emotional journeys sat together in the middle of the mountains discussing destiny, personalities, relationships, energies, and spiritual patterns as if the mountains themselves had slowed time down for reflection.

Even dinner conversations revolved around birth numbers, personality traits, compatibility, and life experiences connected to those discussions. Nobody felt interested in any additional activity afterwards because mentally, everyone was already deeply occupied.

And that night, as everyone slowly returned towards their tents carrying trekking memories, emotional reflections, conversations, and quiet thoughts within themselves, one thing became beautifully clear.

This day was never only about mountains.

More Experience will get unfolded in next part too.......................

PART 1 - Beyond the Mountains: A Journey of Adventure, Emotion, and Human Connection

Some journeys begin with destinations. Others begin with people. This journey, organised under the banner of the Women Adventure Network of India, eventually became both.

What started on 24th May as a trekking and adventure expedition to Himachal Pradesh slowly unfolded into something far deeper than travel. Eighteen women from different states, cities, professions, generations, and life experiences came together for a week that would eventually become a story of courage, vulnerability, laughter, resilience, and emotional connection. The participant list itself felt like a journey slowly taking shape across India. 

First came Bimla Deoskar from Nagpur — the leader of the group and perhaps the strongest force behind the spirit of the entire expedition. A woman whose journey itself deserves a separate story, Along with her Better half Mr. Avinash Deoskar she has been a catalyst in helping tribal children dream beyond limitations and even supporting young climbers in their journey towards Mount Everest. Her presence brought experience, discipline, warmth, and inspiration together into the group.

Then came Neerja, Mahek, Mrunal, Mragna, Yamini, and Falguni from Nagpur itself. Megha joined from Jabalpur, while Trupti and Geeta came from Mumbai. Then the Nashik group started adding its energy with Manisha, Gauri, Purva, and Parbhjyot joining in. Payal travelled all the way from Chennai, while Indrani joined from Lucknow. Shakuntala came from Gurgaon, and finally Leela joined from Mandi, carrying with her the quiet warmth of the mountains themselves.

With every new joinee, the participant list no longer looked like names from different cities — it slowly started looking like a story waiting to happen.

By the end of the journey, the mountains were no longer the only thing that had changed shape. Something within each participant had quietly transformed as well.

For us the journey began from Nagpur aboard the Kerala Express towards Delhi. Like most memorable journeys, the excitement had started long before the train moved. It began during incomplete packing, repeated reminders, overstuffed bags, sleepless anticipation, and the strange emotional energy that exists before stepping away from routine life.

Indian train journeys have their own unique sociology. Compartments become temporary worlds where strangers silently become observers of each other’s lives. Some passengers unpack food within minutes of departure. Some immediately claim upper berths and sleep peacefully for hours. Some remain lost in conversations while others sit quietly near windows watching stations pass. Amidst all this movement, our own excitement continued growing steadily.

The train was delayed, but strangely, nobody felt irritated. When the destination involves mountains and adventure, delays somehow stop feeling inconvenient and slowly become part of the memory itself.

By 25th May, the Nagpur team reached Hazrat Nizamuddin Railway Station as per the train’s arrival schedule. There were two teams arriving from Nagpur, while other participants were joining separately from different cities and states altogether. From the station, we proceeded towards NOMA, a Navy Guest House in Delhi. After continuous travel, NOMA felt less like accommodation and more like recovery. The comfort of proper food, coffee, rest, and a quiet space to freshen up suddenly felt luxurious. Not everyone gets permission to stay there, and being able to experience it felt like a privilege made possible through Neerja.

That evening, we reached ISBT Kashmiri Gate to board the overnight bus to Manali. The bus too arrived late, but by then delays had already become unofficial companions of the trip. Eleven participants boarded from Delhi while the remaining members were to join later.

As the bus slowly moved through the night and Delhi lights faded behind us, conversations reduced gradually. Some slept instantly while others remained awake, looking silently through windows as highways disappeared into darkness. Somewhere during that journey, the trip quietly shifted from “travel” to “experience.”

The following morning, near Mandi, the mountains finally introduced themselves. The roads changed first. Then the air changed. Even silence changed. Clouds rested lazily around mountain ranges while the Beas River (ब्यास नदी) flowed alongside the roads like a quiet companion guiding travellers forward. After a refreshing morning coffee and tea break, a sudden burst of energy took over the entire group. Someone started humming a tune, another joined in, and soon the bus transformed into a moving musical gathering. Antakshari, old Bollywood songs, ghazals, and endless singing continued for almost three and a half hours. Laughter echoed through the bus as even the other passengers began enjoying this unexpected free entertainment, smiling, listening, and occasionally joining in with songs of their own.

Nobody could resist taking photographs. Yet, some landscapes are impossible to capture completely because mountains are not merely visual experiences; they are emotional experiences. That morning, everyone understood why people repeatedly return to the Himalayas despite discomfort, cold, and physical exhaustion. Anyways Soon we reached the stop and from there the camp guys escorted us to campsite.

Reaching the campsite felt magical. The tents, the flowers, the arrangements, the cold air, the food, and the mountains surrounding the camp together created an atmosphere that felt both raw and comforting. The simplicity of mountain life slowly began replacing the urgency of city life.

That evening, after tea, a practice trek towards Shabri Temple was organised. The trek was not merely physical preparation. It became social and emotional preparation as well. People who had met only recently slowly began becoming comfortable with one another. Formal introductions disappeared naturally because mountains remove social formality faster than cities ever can.

The evenings around the campsite became one of the most beautiful aspects of the journey. Every participant carried a completely different story of life. Different struggles, different strengths, different professions, and different emotional journeys somehow found space around the same fire and under the same sky.

Among all these conversations, the experiences shared by Bimla Negi Aunty deeply inspired everyone. Her stories reflected a truth often forgotten in modern life — adventure has very little to do with age and everything to do with spirit. And finally the time to say Goodnight came and we all departed towards our tents.

Night brought another first-time experience for many participants: sleeping bags. For some of us, including me, they felt simultaneously funny and uncomfortable. Getting inside them itself seemed like an adventure. Yet perhaps that discomfort symbolised the beginning of adaptation. Adventure starts exactly where familiar comfort ends.