I had been to the mountains a few times before but only as a tourist. You know, the kind of trips where you stay in a cosy homestay, take long walks around the village, and maybe drive to a viewpoint. Trekking always sounded fascinating but also a little intimidating. I wasn’t sure if I had the stamina or the courage to sign up for something that involved days of hiking, camping, and braving the unpredictable moods of the Himalayas.
The Sar Pass trek kept coming up in conversations, though. A couple of my friends had done it earlier, and one of them insisted that if I ever wanted to try my first proper Himalayan trek, this was the one to go for. She had booked through Thrillophilia and spoke highly of the way everything was managed. I trusted her judgement and read a few of the Thrillophilia reviews. I didn’t even spend hours scrolling through options. Her stories of the trek and her recommendation gave me the push I needed. Looking back now, I’m so glad I listened.
The first day in Kasol set the tone for everything that followed. I arrived with my backpack, nervous as ever, and immediately started scanning the crowd to see who else might be solo like me. To my relief, there were quite a few. Strangers at first, but by the end of the day, they felt like companions in adventure. The trek leaders gathered us and briefed us, and we set out together. That walk through pine forests and streams, with the sound of water mixing with chatter, was when I felt the shift. My anxieties slowly gave way to excitement.
By the time we reached Grahan village, I was exhausted but also buzzing with energy. The climb had been steep in parts, and my shoulders ached under the weight of my bag, but the sight of that little village tucked into the mountains was like a reward in itself. The wooden houses, the kids waving, and the sheer simplicity of life there gave me a perspective I didn’t know I needed. Dinner that night was basic but tasted heavenly because of the effort it took to get there.
The following days brought tougher trails. The walk to Mung Thach was particularly testing for me. At one point I questioned whether I had overestimated myself. But something magical happens when you trek in a group. Just when I slowed down, someone cracked a joke, or a fellow trekker pointed out a bird, or the guide encouraged me to keep going. You realise it’s not a race, and you’re never really alone. That sense of shared struggle and shared wonder was one of the best parts of the whole experience.
Nagaru was unforgettable. It was biting cold, the kind that seeps through layers of clothing, but the view made up for every shiver. I stepped out of the tent once during the night and was stunned into silence. The sky was scattered with stars, brighter than I had ever seen in my life. The village lights twinkled far below, and for a moment I felt both tiny and infinite at the same time. That was one of those rare times when I put my phone away completely and just stood still.
The morning of the Sar Pass crossing will stay with me forever. We started before sunrise, the snow crunching under our boots, our breaths forming little clouds in the icy air. Each step was slower and heavier but also more purposeful. And then suddenly, there it was. The pass. We stood on top, the world opening up in every direction. Snow-covered peaks stretched endlessly, the valleys dipped low, and a soft wind brushed against my face. It felt surreal. We all cheered, hugged, and took photos, but I also found a few quiet minutes to just sit and take it all in.
If reaching the pass was the high point, the slide down was the thrill. Nothing I had read prepared me for how fun it would be. Picture yourself sitting on the snow, letting gravity take over, and sliding down a long white slope while laughing like a child. We must have done it a dozen times. It wasn’t just adrenaline; it was pure, unfiltered joy. That single moment is enough for me to recommend Sar Pass to anyone.
The descent towards Biskeri Thach and then Barshaini was beautiful in its own way. Lush meadows, streams, and wildflowers made the walk easier and more colourful. There was a bittersweet feeling as the trek neared its end. I was excited about a hot shower and a proper bed, but I also knew I would miss the tents, the random conversations, and the rhythm of waking up with the sun.
What I carried back from Sar Pass was much more than photos and sore muscles. It was the reminder that I am stronger than I think, that strangers can become friends overnight, and that sometimes all you need is to put one foot in front of the other.
My friend had been right about Thrillophilia too. Everything, from the guides to the food to the arrangements, felt sorted out. I didn’t have to worry about logistics, which gave me the freedom to focus on the experience itself. My experience was very delightful and satisfactory, which made me want to write this Thrillophilia Sar Pass Trek review.
If you’ve been sitting on the fence about doing a Himalayan trek, I’d say go for it. Sar Pass may test you, but it will also reward you in ways that are hard to explain until you’ve lived it yourself.