Bedant Baral
Last Friday was one of those days we will remember for a very long time. We students from grades 6, 7, and 8 went on a hiking trip to Nirmal Pokhari, and honestly, it felt like a little adventure straight out of a storybook.
We showed up at school that morning half-asleep, yawning in our uniforms, but buzzing with excitement. You could feel it in the air as everyone was grinning, whispering, checking their backpacks to make sure they’d packed enough snacks. After just one class period, which felt like forever, we piled onto the bus, and the moment the engine started, the whole ride turned into a mini party. Someone started singing, someone else cracked a joke and soon the whole bus was laughing, shouting and playing music through a tiny Bluetooth speaker. It was chaotic but the good kind of chaotic fun.
We reached the starting point for our journey at around 10:54 AM. Before even stepping onto the path, we all gathered in front of the bus for a group photo and some of us striking silly poses, others just beamed happily. As I look back at that photo now, I can already see how happy we were.
The hike started off easy with soft dirt paths, tall trees, birds chirping, and that fresh, earthy smell you only get in the woods. Everything felt calm and alive at the same time. We kept pointing things out to each other like “Look at that bright red mushroom.” “Is that a woodpecker?” “Ooh, these flowers smell amazing!” It was like walking through a living painting.
Then came the dreadful stairs!! The stairs, they just kept going up and up and up. No warning, no gentle slope, just stone steps winding steeply into the trees. A lot of us started panting within minutes. Our legs were burning, and someone dramatically whispered, “I’m not going to make it.” But our teachers were right there, cheering us on, telling us to take breaks whenever we needed. And honestly? That’s what got us through. One friend would say, “You’ve got this.” Another would offer a hand. We’d stop, catch our breath, laugh about how ridiculous we looked sweating in our uniforms, and then keep climbing together.
We finally made it to the top at 11:48 AM. And the second I saw the view, I was stunned. All the tiredness just melted away. Pokhara stretched out below us like a dream, with lakes glinting in the sun and hills rolling into the distance. The air was cool and quiet, except for the breeze rustling through the trees. For a few minutes, nobody even talked. We just stood there, taking it all in.
Then, the snacks came out chips crinkling, fruit being passed around, someone’s mom’s homemade sel roti wrapped in foil. We sat in a big circle, sharing food, stories, and way too many selfies. The breeze felt like a reward, and the laughter came easy. It didn’t matter that our shoes were dusty or our hair was messy. In that moment, everything felt perfect.
The walk back down? It was surprisingly fast. Going downhill felt like floating for ten straight minutes and we were back at the base, grinning and a little wobbly kneed, but riding that post adventure high.
By the time we got back to school, we were exhausted but the kind of exhausted that comes from doing something real, something meaningful. That hike wasn’t just about reaching a viewpoint. It was about walking side by side with friends, helping each other through the tough parts, and remembering how beautiful the world is when you step away from screens and classrooms for a while.
