At a tea stall perched high on a Himalayan ridge, a 98-year-old woman poured us steaming chai with trembling hands. "Bachpan se yahin sab karti hoon," she said with a smile, her eyes crinkling with a lifetime of stories. That simple moment—three cups of tea in steel tumblers, mid-trek, above the treeline—was when it hit me: this trip was becoming something far bigger than I'd imagined.
Just a week earlier, I hadn't known the three girls I now called friends. We were hostel acquaintances, sharing polite nods in corridors. That changed with one conversation in the mess, where talk of mountains led to a spontaneous plan: a no-itinerary, low-budget trek to Kheerganga. I didn't own hiking boots or a winter jacket. But when Nishtha asked, "Kheerganga jaana hai?", I said yes. And just like that, I was part of something.
Our route was textbook backpacker chaos. From Chandigarh, we took a bus to Bhuntar, then to Kasol, and finally to Barshaini—the base point for Kheerganga. The terrain grew more rugged at each step and the air more thrilling. We stayed the night at a lively café-homestay called The Himachali Guide, nestled in the woods above Barshaini. Think hand-painted walls, travellers on guitars, and bonfires under the stars. It felt like something out of a coming-of-age film.
Kalga village was our first stop—just 20 minutes away but worlds apart. Accessible by foot or, as we discovered, by waving down a friendly police jeep, Kalga looked like a Himalayan fairytale: blue-green wooden homes, apple orchards, and children playing with carefree charm. A tiny café served us pancakes as we lay on the grass, swapping stories with fellow wanderers and watching clouds drift over pine trees.
After two hours of sleep, we set off for Kheerganga the next morning. The 12-km trek from Barshaini to the summit winds through forests, waterfalls, and meadows—a roughly 5–6 hour journey depending on your pace. We crossed wooden bridges, passed grazing sheep, and waved to locals who cheered us on. Halfway up, we met that unforgettable tea vendor. Her calm presence made us slow down and truly savour the moment.
At the top, Kheerganga rewarded us with a vista we'll never forget: wildflowers, crisp mountain air, a small Shiva temple, and the famous natural hot springs where trekkers soak their aching legs. There's a sacredness to the place that goes beyond religion—it's in the silence, the scenery, the sense of having made it.
While resting on the grass, a solo traveller—an influencer, we later discovered—pointed us toward quieter areas away from the camps. That interaction reminded us how travel isn't just about destinations but the people you meet along the way. On the descent, we ran into a group of boys from Bangalore: a techie, a doctor, and a student. They helped when one of us slipped near a waterfall, and later joined us in Tosh for a night of impromptu singing, laughter, and daal-chawal at a homestay run by a kind pahadi uncle.
The next day, we visited Manikaran, a revered site for both Sikhs and Hindus. The gurudwara, temple, and hot springs together create an energy of calm and renewal. By evening, we were in Kasol's flea market, wandering through shops strung with fairy lights and eating bun chhole and momos. We bumped into the Bangalore boys again. Dinner with them felt like closing a circle we didn't know we were drawing.
Naturally, the trip ended in chaos—we boarded the wrong bus and realised too late that we were en route to Delhi, not Chandigarh. We jumped off in the middle of nowhere, flagged down another bus, and rode back, sitting on the floor beside the driver. It was absurd. It was perfect.
We returned to our hostel dusty and sleep-deprived but glowing with something we hadn't left with. We had gone without parental permission, gear, or a plan; just a shared hunger to experience something real. Somewhere between Barshaini and Kheerganga, that hunger was met, and so much more was found: trust, courage, and friendship.
This was more than a trek for someone like me, who had never travelled without family. It was the first time I had followed an impulse without hesitation, chosen to trust people I barely knew, and found belonging among strangers.
Friendship didn't come from a shared past—it was forged on cliff edges, around bonfires, across narrow trails and wide skies.
A few days later, one of the Bangalore boys sent us a photo of his journal. He had written about us.
"To the girls who weren't strangers anymore. To Kheerganga—the trip that changed it all."
And he was right.
How to Reach
To get to Kheerganga, reach Bhuntar (nearest airport and bus stop) via Chandigarh or Delhi. From Bhuntar, take a local bus or taxi to Barshaini, the base point for the trek. The route is:
Chandigarh → Bhuntar → Kasol → Barshaini → Kheerganga
The Trek
The trek from Barshaini to Kheerganga is 12 km (one way), moderately challenging, and takes 5–6 hours. It passes through Kalga, Rudra Nag, and apple orchards, with multiple waterfalls and local cafés en route.
Stay Options
Budget guesthouses and homestays are available in Kalga, Barshaini, and Tosh. Expect basic wooden huts or tented camps at the summit—rustic but atmospheric.
Food
Try local Himachali thalis, pancakes, momos, and bun chhole in Kasol. Cafés at Kalga often serve organic meals and pancakes with mountain views. Manikaran is famous for langar food and hot spring-cooked rice.
Best Time to Visit
April to June and September to November offer the best weather. Avoid the monsoon season due to slippery trails and landslide risks.
Pro Tips
No ATMs beyond Kasol. Carry enough cash.
The mobile network fades after Barshaini, but BSNL works best.
Pack layers, a rain jacket, basic medicines, and sunscreen.
Avoid single-use plastic. Carry a refillable bottle and support local cafés.
If trekking down the same day, start early and keep track of sunset.
For Solo Travellers & First-Timers
The trail is safe, but always inform someone of your route, carry a torch, and stay hydrated. Most travellers are friendly, and you'll likely make friends en route—just like we did.
