Mukesh Adhikari
Whispers in the Hills: A Walk to Remember
Hamro Patro Team Hike – Godawari to Lamatar
It had been a long while since we walked like wolves through the trees. Since our footsteps matched the heartbeat of the wild. So when Rudra Dai, someone we deeply respect, showed interest in walking with us, how could we say no?
Not the burning summer sun, nor the threat of rain, nor even the fear of leeches could keep us from saying yes. There was something about this call to the woods—it stirred something old, something eager, within us.
Sudina Didi and Ruchita Pathak became our guardians of preparation. They packed us with everything needed for a day in the hills—fruits, food, water, raincoats, medical kits, and other trail essentials. Their care wasn’t just in the bags we carried, but in the ease we felt knowing we were ready.
As the first light touched the city, we gathered at 109 Degree Foods. It was just past 7 AM, and like clockwork, the Hamro Patro team arrived right on time. There was warmth in the air—partly from the rising sun, partly from our shared excitement.
We sat for breakfast with Rudra Dai, and soon, two lovely guests joined us, bringing new energy to the group. The trail wasn't planned for weeks—it was decided with the freshness of that morning. After a short talk, Godawari – Chapakharka – Lakuri Bhanjyang – Lamatar was chosen. A trail many of us had never walked, but it sounded perfect.
Sometimes, the best journeys are the ones we don’t overthink.
We boarded a microvan and began our ride toward Godawari, a little sleepy, a little chatty.
Conversations drifted from Shark Tank ideas to new features in our products. But soon the road narrowed, the trees thickened, and the city slowly faded behind us.
By 8 o’clock, we reached Godawari. The air had changed—it was cooler, crisper, with the smell of wet leaves and earth. We divided our supplies among us so no one would carry more than they should. The balance was perfect. And then we began. That first step into the woods was like stepping out of time. Rudra Dai and Shanker Dai led the way. We weren’t in a race. There were no medals to be won. We weren’t climbing to conquer the trail—we were walking to remember who we are beyond the office and screen. This hike was a story in the making.
We walked with no rush, taking in the silence, the birdsong, the changing shades of green. Clicks began—some candid, some posed, some caught between laughter. The deeper we went, the farther we left the noise of the world behind. The forest wrapped around us gently, like it knew we needed its calm. Now and then, the trail reminded us we were guests in nature’s home.
Leeches lingered in our minds, and we walked with cautious steps. But the weather was kind—it stayed cloudy most of the way, keeping the heat at bay.
We sometimes took shortcuts—narrow lanes covered in roots and moss—and sometimes avoided them when they looked too tricky. Rudra Dai’s energy was endless; his stories kept us smiling, and at one point, he made us run for a TikTok. We laughed like children. One strange but unforgettable moment was the sight of earthworms—hundreds of them, tangled together in clusters. Their red and black bodies moved as one, and their smell wasn’t kind. It was a bit eerie, a bit thrilling—one of those moments that stays with you for no clear reason.
From above, Kathmandu lay quietly under a silver sky. The city looked beautiful from the hills, and we were slowly walking away. Here and there, we crossed paths with villagers, kind faces carrying stories we’ll never hear. A few dogs began walking with us like old companions. After 2 to 3 hours, we reached a small village and rested under the open sky. We didn’t need much—just each other and a moment to breathe. We continued. The path near the top grew easier. At Chapakharka, just past a school, we rested again. We shared snacks—cucumbers, bananas, and dry fruits. Nature felt richer when eaten under its sky.
Then came the push-up challenge. Rudra Dai started it with a grin, and Shanker Dai followed.
The rest of us laughed and cheered. The trail wasn’t just about walking—it was about being fully alive in the moment. As we stood, a wave of students passed us, returning from school exams. Their tired yet cheerful faces reminded us how every trail is a different journey for each traveler.
We soon reached Lakuri Bhanjyang and stopped for a simple cup of tea. There’s something about sipping tea after a long walk—it humbles you, it fills you. Then came the descent. As we stepped toward Lamatar, soft rain began to fall. It didn’t rush us. It kissed our shoulders and cooled our skin. The raincoats finally proved their worth, and we smiled at the timing of it all.
We reached Lamatar Bus Park, where our van and Driver Dai waited, eyes scanning the crowd for familiar faces. But before we left, we captured one last memory—a TikTok on a viral song, our joy shining through every move. By the time we returned to 109 Degree Foods, our bodies were sore, our hearts full.
We ended with a feast—dal, bhat, khasi ko masu, refreshing lassi, and a little Gorkha.
Food tasted better after a journey like that. Sleepiness began to creep in, like a gentle reminder that the day was done. We said our goodbyes to Rudra Dai and Shanker Dai, still smiling, still grateful. As we headed to our homes, a quiet thought stayed with us— Some days, some walks, and some people leave a deeper mark than others. This was one of those days.
