At Adventure Himalaya Nepal , we don’t just promote treks, we live them. Here’s a personal travel story from our very own Karishma Dhakal, as she embarks on a spiritual journey to Gosaikunda with her best friends. If you’re looking for a trek that balances natural beauty, beginner friendly trails, and deep spiritual meaning, read on.

Gosaikunda Trek: In the Footsteps of Lord Shiva

The idea of going on the Gosaikunda trek had always lived in my heart like a quiet prayer, an inner longing for a journey that would connect me with nature, my inner self, and Lord Shiva. Perhaps the universe conspired to fulfill this wish. My best friends, Kriti and Swikriti, were also in the mood for an escape, an adventure that would take us far from city life, noise, and deadlines, into the heart of something serene and sacred.

When they asked me to decide on a destination, I considered several options, each offering something unique. But in the end, Gosaikunda stood out. It wasn’t just the raw Himalayan beauty that called to me, or the spiritual weight the lake holds in Hindu mythology. It was something deeper, a feeling, a silent pull from the mountains. The Gosaikunda trek promised more than landscapes; it promised meaning.

Nestled in the Langtang region, the trail to Gosaikunda weaves through mossy forests, blooming rhododendron paths, remote villages, and ridges that touch the clouds. It’s a trek that welcomes both beginners and seasoned trekkers, yet challenges the heart and soul in quiet, transformative ways. For Kriti and Swikriti, both new to trekking, it seemed like the perfect balance: not too difficult, yet not too simple. For me, it was the realization of a dream.

What made this decision even more special was knowing we would experience it together. There’s something sacred about walking side by side with your closest friends, sharing the same struggles, laughter, and awe as the path unfolds. The Gosaikunda trek, I knew, would give us not just unforgettable views, but unforgettable memories.

I had read and heard stories of how the sacred lake of Gosaikunda was believed to be created by Lord Shiva himself, striking the earth with his trident to calm his burning throat. I had always imagined what it would feel like to stand before that icy blue lake, surrounded by snowy peaks and silence, with only my breath and my thoughts. Now, I was finally answering that call.

Little did we know, this Gosaikunda trek would give us more than we asked for. It would test us, uplift us, surprise us, and most importantly, remind us of the simple, powerful joys of walking in nature, laughing with friends, and greeting every passing stranger with a heartfelt “Namasteeee.”

And so, with our backpacks filled and hearts open, we set off on our Gosaikunda trek, unaware that this journey would become a chapter we’d remember for a lifetime.

Day 1: Kathmandu to Dhunche – Dhunche to Chandanbari

On April 28, I made my way to Machhapokhari and booked our tickets. The next day, April 29, we boarded an early morning bus to Dhunche, the starting point of our trek. The journey to Dhunche itself was beautiful, filled with winding roads, roaring rivers, and lush forests. We arrived around 11:30 AM, had a hearty dal bhat to fuel our bodies, and began our trek at 12:30 PM.

From Dhunche, the trail was a perfect introduction to the Langtang Region’s beauty… well defined paths, cheerful villagers, and the ever changing mountain air. We passed through enchanting rhododendron forests and crossed thrilling suspension bridges. Our first stop for the night was Chandanbari, also known as Sing Gompa. The warmth of the people and the delicious dal bhat made it a perfect place to rest. That evening, we sat by a fire, warming our bodies and souls as we anticipated the journey ahead.

Day 2: Chandanbari – Cholangpati – Lauribinayak – Gosaikunda

The next morning, April 30, we woke up to clear skies and cold mountain air. Breakfast was Tibetan bread and tarkari, simple, yet satisfying. At 9:00 AM, we resumed our trek toward Gosaikunda.

The path became steeper as we climbed through Cholangpati. By the time we reached Lauribinayak, the staircases carved into the hillside looked intimidating. Lauribinayak is known for its spectacular views but also for being one of the most challenging sections of the Gosaikunda trail. The altitude began to take its toll, making it harder to breathe, but the thought of meeting Lord Shiva kept us moving.

And then, the magic started.

Every trekker, porter, monk, and villager we passed greeted us the same way—“Namasteeee!” drawn out with a melody that made your heart smile. It wasn’t just a word—it was a feeling. A connection. On that trail, “Namasteeee” was the only language we needed—a blessing exchanged between souls walking the same sacred path. We started to echo it with joy, waving, laughing, and sometimes even breaking into a dance when the moment felt right.

There were times when we’d be hiking in silence, and suddenly a cheerful “Namasteeee!” would ring out from a stranger coming around the bend instantly lifting our spirits. Every “Namasteeee” was like a spark of energy passed from one heart to another.

And the people… oh, the people. We met locals who offered directions with smiles, elders who nodded with quiet respect, and other travelers who joined our pace for a while, sharing stories and laughs. It felt like the entire trail was alive with the spirit of Atithi Devo Bhava—“Guests are God.” Whether we stopped for tea or simply paused to catch our breath, someone was always there with a kind word or a warm gesture.

Finally, in the evening, we reached Gosaikunda at 4,380 meters above sea level. The air was thin, the cold pierced our jackets, but the sight of the sacred lake was beyond description. We had reached our spiritual destination. That night, we huddled inside a teahouse, surviving on Dal bhat, makai bhatmas (roasted corn and soybeans) and warm aduwa chiya (ginger tea).

When we finally settled in for the night, I remember thinking: This is what it means to be alive. Not just to see the mountains but to feel them in every heartbeat, every “Namasteeee,” every act of kindness.

Day 3: Gosaikunda – Lauribinayak – Cholangpati – Chandanbari – Deurali

May 1 greeted us with a surprise we’ll never forget, fresh snowfall that blanketed the world in pure white. We peeked outside our window and gasped in awe. The entire landscape had transformed into a winter wonderland overnight. While we had experienced flurries the day before, this was different-thicker, quieter, more enchanting. It was as if the heavens had decided to give us one final gift before our descent.

But despite the cold and the snow, we had one mission left—to take a holy dip in Gosaikunda. Stripping off our layers in that frigid air felt crazy, almost reckless, but it was something we had promised ourselves we would do. The icy waters stung like a thousand needles as we stepped in, but in that brief, breathless moment, it felt like every worry and every fear melted away. It was more than cold, it was cleansing. We emerged shivering but smiling, renewed and alive, like something sacred had entered our souls. We had done it. We had honored the lake, and ourselves.

After a few moments of silent prayer and soaking it all in, we began our descent around 12:30 PM. The trail had changed completely. What was once rocky and familiar was now slippery and buried in snow, but our trekking poles became our best friends, helping us navigate each step. We laughed at our wobbles and cheered each other on, it wasn’t just a trek anymore, it was a team effort, and we were in it together.

Then, in one of those beautiful mountain moments that seem to come out of nowhere, we met a kind-hearted aunty (Aama) from Lauribinayak. She greeted us with a warm smile and insisted we drink some hot water to warm up. When we tried to pay her, she gently refused. This simple act of selfless kindness touched us deeply. It was a reminder that true blessings often come from strangers, unasked for, unmeasured, and unforgettable.

We stopped for a quick bite at Cholangpati—steaming bowls of noodle soup that tasted like a warm hug. The laughter started to return. The cold hadn’t left us, but we had grown stronger with it. Our hearts felt light again.

By evening, we reached Deurali, and what followed was pure magic. We were exhausted, yes—but something about that night made us feel wildly alive. The stars glimmered above, the air was crisp, and the mountain silence turned into music as we played Nepali songs on our phones and danced barefoot on the wooden floors of the teahouse. We sang, we laughed, and for a while, we forgot the altitude, the cold, and the ache in our legs. In that shared joy, we felt the true spirit of the Gosaikunda trek—not just a pilgrimage, but a celebration of life, friendship, and freedom.

We huddled into our sleeping bags that night with full hearts and sore muscles, whispering stories in the dark like kids at a sleepover. We didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, but we knew this: we were changed. We were blessed. And we were so, so grateful.

Day 4: Deurali – Khendi – Ghattekhola – Dhunche – Kathmandu

Our final day, May 2, began early, just as the sun started to rise, casting a golden glow on the snow-kissed trails. By 6:30 AM, we bid farewell to Deurali, a place that had given us warmth, laughter, and unforgettable memories. With our backpacks a little lighter and our hearts a whole lot fuller, we continued our descent through Khendi and Ghattekhola.

Even though we had walked these paths before, everything felt different. The trail, once unfamiliar and steep, now felt like an old friend guiding us gently home. The Gosaikunda trek had transformed our perception, what was once challenging now felt comforting. The trees swayed as if bidding us goodbye, and every step we took was filled with gratitude.

At Ghattekhola, we paused for a moment of celebration. The sound of the river, cold and clear, called to us. Without hesitation, we jumped in, laughing, splashing, and soaking in the moment. The chill of the water was shocking but exhilarating, a symbolic cleanse after the soulful journey of the Gosaikunda trek. It was spontaneous, joyful, and exactly what we needed.

Reaching Dhunche felt like the final page of a cherished story. We stood quietly for a moment, looking back at the hills we had descended, letting the reality sink in, we did it. We completed the Gosaikunda trek. Not just physically, but emotionally and spiritually.

The bus ride back to Kathmandu was a quiet one. We weren’t the same people who had left a few days ago, nervous and excited at the starting point. Now, we were seasoned by snow, strengthened by climbs, and spiritually uplifted by the divine energy of Gosaikunda.

By the time we reached Kathmandu at 6:00 PM, the city felt different too. Louder, busier, but we carried a mountain calm within us. We were exhausted, yes…..but it was a beautiful kind of exhaustion. The kind that only comes after doing something truly meaningful.

The Gosaikunda trek was more than a trip. It was a journey into stillness, into challenge, into devotion. It gifted us new friendships, deeper bonds, unexpected kindness, and a profound sense of pe

And though the trek has ended, its echo will stay in our hearts forever, in the sound of the wind through pine trees, in the chill of sacred water, and in the warmth of a stranger’s smile.

Reflections and Gratitude

Reflections from the Trail: Where the Mountains Met Our Souls

Some journeys don’t just change your path, they change your spirit.

This Gosaikunda trek was not just a journey across mountains; it was a pilgrimage into something far greater. Gosaikunda was not just a place on a map, it was a feeling, a presence, a quiet transformation that unfolded step by step.

The sacred lake, shimmering under a silver sky, felt like a mirror to our souls. Standing at 4,380 meters, surrounded by the whispers of ancient legends, we didn’t just see beauty, we felt divinity. It was as though the mountains had paused just for us, wrapping us in their stillness, reminding us that we are part of something eternal.

The snow covered trails tested our strength but also offered a strange, silent comfort. Each step was more than movement; it was a prayer in motion. We laughed, stumbled, encouraged one another, and sometimes walked in silence, letting the wind speak what words could not.

And in the middle of it all was something truly magical: human connection. The warmth of strangers, the ever present “Namasteeee” that echoed across the trail, the smiles exchanged without reason, the small gestures of care, all of it stitched the journey together into a tapestry of kindness and belonging.

To my soul sisters Kriti and Swikriti, thank you for dancing with me in the forest, for singing on steep climbs, and for sharing every meal, every sunset, every laugh. You turned the Gosaikunda trek into something unforgettable.

To Kabita and Kaushila, who joined us along the trail, your presence brought new energy and beautiful stories. You reminded us how quickly strangers can become family.

And to the sweet aunty from Lauribinayak, who handed us hot water with the purest smile and refused to take a single rupee, your act of love reminded us that kindness is the purest form of prayer. We may forget faces in life, but we never forget how someone made us feel.

A special shoutout to our unlikely but faithful companions: chocolates, noodles, dry fruits, satu, makai-bhatmas, and of course, the fiery timurko chhop (pickle). You brought comfort when we needed it most.

Gosaikunda Trek gave us more than altitude and scenery, it gave us peace, courage, and a deep, spiritual satisfaction that words can barely capture. It showed us how strong we are, how soft we can be, and how deeply connected we are to the earth and each other.

If you’re seeking more than just a trek, if you’re longing for a path that awakens your soul, challenges your limits, and fills you with quiet wonder, Gosaikunda Trek is waiting. With open skies, ancient silence, and the kind of beauty that makes you believe in something greater.

This is not just a trail. It’s a heartbeat. A blessing. A memory that will live in you forever.

Some places don’t stay on your travel list—they live in your soul.