Trekking in Sindhupalchok

This summer, I had the chance to do something really special – I visited my ancestral village in Sindhupalchok for the first time in 17 years. It was a meaningful journey that brought me much closer to my roots and gave me a deeper appreciation for where I come from.

 

My uncle, Acharya Pasang Wangdi Sherpa, asked me to join him on a trek to his birthplace, Shermikyang. Since I had no other plans for the week, I agreed to go with him and visit a place deeply connected to my cultural and ancestral roots, which my mom used to tell me about in her stories.

 

We left Kathmandu around 5 a.m., in a jeep. We picked up a few more people on the way, and by the time we left the valley, our group had grown to seven people, including two of my uncles and the ward chairperson of Bhotekoshi Rural Municipality Ward No. 3 in Sindhupalchok District.

 

Around 9:40 a.m., we reached Khakondol for a short rest and some snacks, and switched to another jeep that was specially equipped for the steep, muddy and rocky roads ahead. At one point, the jeep slipped slightly toward the cliff; another time, it had to reverse to gain speed, and a wheel was almost hanging in the air, several hundred feet above the ground.

 

We made it to Namthang around 1 p.m. and started walking uphill toward Ghising Dada, where a new monastery is being built. After climbing the first two sets of stairs, I ended up riding on a motorbike with Dharma, the construction supervisor on the treacherous road. I was holding on tightly the whole time, praying we wouldn’t fall. When we finally arrived, I discovered a leech between my fingers. It stung badly. I used hand sanitizer to remove it, and found bites on each of my ankles later. That night, we ate dinner, talked about the monastery construction, and went to sleep on the floor.

 

The next morning, we woke up early and got ready for the day’s journey to Bortok Dada, a pilgrimage site and our main destination. The trail was entirely uphill and went through forests and tall grass – the perfect environment for leeches, and I was bitten several times. As we climbed higher, the leeches disappeared, but we started getting bitten by small fly-like insects known as daas, which were very annoying.

 

We reached our first base camp – a villager’s small house – around 9:30 a.m., then departed again at 10:30 a.m. Rain turned the trail muddier and more slippery, but by 12:15 p.m., we reached Merak (3500m), rested again, and pushed on to Bortok (3860m). When we arrived around 3:30 p.m., we were cold, and completely soaked.

 

The next morning, I woke up with a headache, probably due to the high altitude. After freshening up, I joined the monks in morning prayers and spent about eight hours reading from Domang, a Buddhist text filled with sutras.

 

Later, my uncle, Lama Karma Phurbu – a senior monk from Thrangu Monastery at Ghising Dada – and I went to explore the area around Bortok for historical evidence or signs of spiritual significance. We found the ruins of an old monastery, and even came across a footprint carved into a stone. No one knew exactly whose it was, and even the oldest man in the village couldn’t tell us for sure. The mystery of the footprint stayed with us, adding a spiritual and historical depth to the journey.

 

We began our final full day in Bortok with morning prayers again. Many villagers had gathered for the puja ceremony, making for a lively and meaningful event. After the puja, my uncle and I visited his birthplace at Shermikyang and were warmly welcomed by villagers who were living there for the summer.

 

The next morning, we started our journey to Natokharka, my mother’s childhood home. The trip was mostly downhill, and fortunately, the weather was clear and cool. We arrived around 1:30 p.m., and as I explored the area, it brought back faint images from visiting when I was around two years old. That evening, I had a hot bowl of chicken soup and finally got to sleep in a real bed after three nights on the floor, which felt amazing.

 

The next morning, we headed back to Kathmandu. The way back wasn’t as tough as the climb up, but it still had its challenges. I wasn’t able to record everything because by phone had died, but nothing major happened anyway.

 

This trip was a deeply memorable experience. I was able to participate in prayers, recite sutras, visit sacred places, and connect closely with my heritage and spiritual traditions. It was tiring, emotional, and fulfilling in ways I hadn’t expected.