Hampta Pass Trek : The Beauty of the Journey

The Missing WOW Moment

“There was no ‘WOW’ moment,” said my co-trekker while climbing down. “I mean, I expected something WOW as we crossed the pass. But the moment we reached the highest point, the summit, it was just like the climb we had left behind.”

She was disappointed. She was trekking for the first time and was expecting a clear highlight or climax after trekking for more than two days. And she was right in a way. As we reached the highest point, there was no jaw-dropping scene to greet us, which usually is the case in a trek. 

This was the Hampta Pass Trek we went for in August this year. The fact that we had to shift our plan from the Great Kashmir Lake Trek—known for its breathtaking views at every turn—to this one in Himachal was already a sort of concession. Though ,I certainly looked forward to a monsoon trek, after trekking to Gomukh and Tapovan in the summer Himalayas.

Reaching Manali: An Uncertain Beginning

This year the monsoon was unrelenting, especially in Himachal Pradesh. Till the day we reached Manali, the base camp, we were not sure whether we would even be able to attempt the trek owing to frequent floods, road closures, etc.

But reach we did.

After a cancellation scare, we started on time for Jobra, the highest motorable village near Manali. It was an amazing ride to the base, watching Manali grow tinier and tinier as we climbed up. Every few hundred metres, a sudden turn opened up scenic views of the Kullu valley, making us gasp at the scintillating landscape. When we reached the base, the mountains towered above us—peaks lost in the cover of clouds, the whole range wet and misty. The whole place seemed surreal.

As we started on foot, the first stream we crossed on a pedestrian bridge was full and gushing, setting the tone for the four days to come. With a group of more than 20 trekkers, we started on this amazing monsoon journey in the Himalayas. In its own quiet way, the beauty of the journey was already unfolding.

The People We Walked With

There were people in the group in their mid-50s who had come to check their fitness and its limits; the twenties who had come to expand their horizons; people who had come as a group of friends—their friendship lasting for more than 30 years; individuals who frequently ran off to the mountains to escape the routine of the city or the pressures of family; and first-timers who simply wanted to experience the mountains from up close.

In these times when our journeys have been invaded by the presence of that little devil we call the mobile phone, it is only on treks that we meet amazing strangers, chat with them, have meaningful conversations, and bond. It is here that we look for each other, care, and help during the journey. For those days of trek these become your real travel mates. 

An important part of this experience was also the team from Trek The Himalayas. During the trek one of the guides would trek in the front, setting the pace, and the trekkers would follow this thin local who was like a mountain goat, carrying an umbrella and climbing coolly through the most difficult sections.

The tail end was handled by Dev, a strong, huge local said to have crossed Rupin Pass in six hours (for other mortal trekkers it is a five-day journey on foot!). With his presence like a mountain bear, even the last trekker felt safe. The leaders, Pankaj and Pimba, kept an eye on the entire group—talking, motivating, comforting. The team was set on exploring the beauty of the journey.

Walking Through Contrasts

In the next two days, we crossed the mixed forest of pine, green maple, and birches, and stayed in meadows near flowing rivers. We walked in the sandy expanse of Balu ka Ghera, where the river flowed lazily through black sand. We trekked overlooking valleys crisscrossed with streams and expansive flower beds. We spotted some of the most beautiful forest flowers which bloom in this season, dotting the valley with pinks, reds, yellows, purples, and blues,Oh!  the beauty of the journey itself .

We went below waterfalls, rain pouring onto our heads, soaking our shoes. One of the most amazing experiences was crossing a gushing, falling river full of knee-deep water—barefoot. It was a team effort where each of us held another’s hand, bracing against the chilled water -which felt like a thousand needles pricking at each step.

It seemed an impossible task, but only until we finished it.

We walked a barely-foot-wide ridge with valleys on both sides—some brave, some scared, some nonchalant—but everyone fully present in the moment. 

We crossed a small yet dangerous valley to start an ascent to the pass and began the summit climb, which was lost in the fog, making the journey somewhat difficult yet exciting. The sun came out as we reached the Hampta Pass—as if to greet us for our success. From the pass itself, we could spot some amazing peaks and glaciers.

Entering Spiti: A Different World

As we climbed down from the pass, we entered a different valley—starkly contrasting the green valley behind. Here, the mountains were bare, snow-capped, with little greenery. This was part of the great Spiti and Lahaul Valley. The river originating from the glacier flowed serenely through the valley surrounded by towering peaks.

The climb down along the valley the next day was as delightful. While walking down towards the camp near the roadhead, the beauty of the journey, flowers of various colours continued to accompany us . At one of the turns, a large, long range of the Spiti Valley—with its glaciers and streams—suddenly became visible, making it a sight to behold.

Chandratal: Silence That Stays

The tour ended with a visit to Chandratal in Spiti, the lake known for its serene beauty and is sacred to the locals who believe in its spiritual powers. As we descended to the lake after a three-hour ride from the camp, its pristine blue water surrounded by naked brown mountains held us captive. The lake had a calm spirit to it—its beauty making you sit silently for hours. One could feel its spiritual power as none of the visitors’ sounds seemed to disturb the peace of the place. I still carry the silence of the place with me after these many months.

We stopped at the famous Chacha-Chachi Dhaba on the way back, run by an old couple known for their generosity in such harsh terrain. It reminded me of similar people of Ladakh—the spirit of the place and the people remains the same.

With so many memories to carry, the journey felt complete here.

From Trek to Life: The Realisation

And perhaps this is where the shift happened—somewhere between the rain, the rivers, the shared laughter, and the quiet valleys, I realised that the absence of a single WOW moment did not take away from the beauty of the journey itself.

How then, with so many moments to treasure, so many experiences to cherish, so many conversations to carry with us, could one regret not having a single WOW moment?

I think that is exactly how life is for many of us.

We keep chasing that one big, defining, earth-shattering moment—the moment that will change everything, the moment that will make all effort feel worthwhile, the moment that will justify the journey. We imagine life as a grand story building toward a climax. But life rarely unfolds that way. It is not the one WOW moment that shapes us—it is the hundreds of small, beautiful, imperfect, unforgettable moments that actually define our days.

Life is made of the quiet magic of moments we often overlook:
the first time you walked into school with a bag bigger than you,
the dance you nervously performed on annual day,
the exam you cracked after weeks of doubt,
those warm summer nights you spent with your cousins,
that birthday you celebrated with friends at the hostel,
that moment of joy when you came home after an exam,
a dinner you shared with someone you loved,
the moment you held your child for the first time,
the first time they called you “Ma” or “Baba,”
a deep unexpected conversation with a colleague who later became a friend,
the day you made your parents’ eyes shine with pride,
the moment you trekked and climbed a peak for the first time—not because of the altitude, but     because you didn’t know you had that strength in you.

These are not WOW moments in the dramatic, cinematic sense.
These are soft, powerful, life-defining moments—moments that come without announcement and leave permanent imprints.

The Hampta Pass trek was full of such moments—crossing icy rivers barefoot while holding a stranger’s hand, watching rain blur the mountains into dreamy silhouettes, sharing warm jokes inside cold tents, walking silently through valleys bursting with colour, standing at the pass as the sun broke through the fog just for a fleeting second. A collection of moments that stitch themselves into memory.

And that is the truth of life too:
Our journey becomes meaningful not because of one grand peak,
but because of the countless valleys, ridges, rivers, and small joys we walk through and the people who accompany us along. Life isn’t defined by one major event, but by all the moments and memories you pick up throughout your journey.So perhaps the WOW moment is not something you wait for at the summit.
Perhaps it is something you gather gently, one little moment at a time—the true beauty of the journey.