Pindari Glacier Trek: A Journey Through Mist, Mountains, and Moments
A real story from the Himalayas—of drizzle, rivers, misty trails, and a moment of sunlight that felt like
magic.
It all started with a light drizzle and that unmistakable excitement in the air. It was
a humid June morning in Haldwani when I threw my backpack in the car and hit the road with Rahul. We picked up
Saurabh, who’d just arrived from Lucknow, and the three of us were finally together, ready for a long overdue
adventure: the Pindari Glacier Trek.
To be honest, I didn’t know that this trip would be one of the most soul-refreshing experiences of my life.
Mist-covered villages, rivers that sounded louder than my thoughts, trails lost in the clouds—it all felt surreal.
And that view from Zero Point? It’s the kind of thing that makes you forget you’re even tired.
Meet the Crew & Map the Trail
Rahul: From Haldwani, mountain-hardened and enthusiastic as ever.
Saurabh: Joined us from Lucknow; city guy with a love for the hills.
We left Haldwani at around 8 AM on June 14, the car loaded with snacks, trekking gear, and a playlist we didn’t
even touch—we were too busy soaking in the views.
Our route wound through Bhimtal, Kwarab, Almora, Someshwar, Bageshwar, and finally Kapkot, where we stopped for
essentials. Pro tip: Kapkot is your last chance to stock up—cash, fruits, ponchos, whatever you need. After this,
the mountains don't care if you forgot your wallet.
Day 1: Arrival at Khati
After a 12-hour drive with minimal stops, we reached our guesthouse around 8:30 PM—just 2 km before Khati. Pro
tip: the road now reaches Khati village itself! Last time I was here, we had to trek 6 km extra from Kharkiya.
Day 2: Khati to Dwali – Into the Forest
The next morning, I opened the window to find the world painted in clouds. It was misty, drizzling slightly, and
absolutely beautiful. We had a slow, warm breakfast of aloo paratha and chai, then packed up and started walking
towards Khati.
Even though it was just a short walk on a motorable road, the vibe was completely different. The village looked
straight out of a postcard—fog curling around rooftops, and the smell of wet earth all around.
From Khati, we officially started the trek. Ponchos on, spirits high. The trail twisted through a dense forest,
where every leaf seemed washed fresh by the rain. Birds chirped above us, the air was thick with moisture, and the
occasional opening in the trees gave us glimpses of the valley below.
Midway, we met three guys from Kotdwar who were also on the trail. It’s funny how you bond with strangers on
treks—just a few exchanged jokes and suddenly you’re part of the same journey.
The path was a mix of ascents and descents, and while it wasn't too steep, the constant up-and-down rhythm
definitely made us sweat. Somewhere along the way, a tiny dhaba saved our lives with piping hot Maggi and
chai—honestly, nothing has ever tasted that good.
We reached Dwali around 5 PM, a place where the Pindar and Kafni rivers meet. You can actually hear them long before
you see them. It’s loud, wild, and oddly calming. We managed to find a place to stay right before the weather
turned.
The bridges there were... intense. Temporary wooden planks stretched across rivers swollen from the rain. As I
walked across, with whitewater roaring beneath my feet, I could feel my heart thumping in my ears. It was scary, but
thrilling too—like nature daring us to keep going.
As we settled in at Dwali, I noticed something unusual—mosquitoes. Tons of them. Probably hitching a ride on the
sheep herds that were grazing nearby. And guess what? I was wearing shorts. Big mistake. My legs turned into a snack
buffet before the night even began. Lesson learned: no matter how nice the breeze feels on your skin, cover up in
the mountains.
That night, tucked in our modest room with the sound of water crashing all around, I slept like a baby—itchy legs
and all.
Day 3: The Magical Zero Point
We woke up at 4 in the morning—groggy but determined. No proper breakfast, just a few chocolates, some dry fruits,
and a lot of adrenaline. We left Dwali by 5 AM, walking into that soft pre-dawn light.
The forest gradually opened into vast alpine meadows. After about three hours, we reached Phurkiya—a small
settlement nestled between the hills. We had breakfast there, booked a dome tent to drop our bags, and continued
with just the essentials.
The trail from Phurkiya to Zero Point was breathtaking. Benches were scattered along the way, perfect for short
breaks. Wildflowers swayed in the breeze, and waterfalls dropped from cliffs like silver threads. It was unreal.
Somewhere along the trail, we passed groups of sheep with their shepherds. I still remember how their bells echoed
across the valley—it was almost meditative. One shepherd even smiled and handed us water from a stream, no words
exchanged, just mountain manners.
By the time we reached Baba's Mandir around 12:30, clouds had started rolling in. The temple was locked, but that
added to the mystery. From there, Zero Point was another push uphill.
And then, like magic, the clouds broke open just above us—literally a perfect circle of blue sky, with thick fog
swirling around it. We could see the sun through that hole, and for a moment, everything else disappeared. It felt
like we were standing in nature’s spotlight.
The glacier has definitely retreated compared to what I remembered. Still, standing on that ridge, looking down at
the river that flows from the very foot of the glacier—it felt surreal. I took a few drone shots (battery was
dying!) and just lay down on the grass, staring at the sky.
We snacked a bit, closed our eyes, and let the silence settle in. Around 2:30, we started walking back. It began to
rain halfway through, and by the time we reached Phurkiya, we were soaked.
Dinner was shared with other trekkers in a smoky little kitchen hut. We swapped stories, laughed at how tired we
were, and then collapsed into our tents.
Day 4: Descend and Reflect
Our final day. We woke up early again and had a quick breakfast. My knees were already protesting, but my heart
was still full.
We retraced our steps—Phurkiya to Dwali, then to Baba’s Chawni. This time, everything felt familiar, like flipping
back through a photo album you just finished.
We reached Khati by around 12:30 PM, and from there, it was just a 2 km stretch on a flat road to our guesthouse.
But here’s the funny part—there were clouds everywhere, except exactly where we were walking. The sun sat right
above us like a spotlight, and there was no shade at all. It wasn’t difficult terrain, just a hot, dry road walk
that made us feel like we were melting.
That last bit under the noon sun somehow felt tougher than the actual trek. Still, nothing could take away the high
we were on. That mix of achievement, exhaustion, and pure contentment—that’s the real reward.
What the Trek Taught Me
The thing about treks is, they don’t just take you to places—they take you through versions of yourself. I learned
that I’m not as fit as I once was, but I still have that old stubbornness in me.
Trekking isn’t just about getting to the top. It’s about that Maggi break halfway, that first view of a waterfall,
that laugh with a stranger, that moment when you stop to catch your breath and realize... this is life, in its
rawest, most beautiful form.
And yes, it’s about surviving mosquitoes too.
Quick Trek Summary
Route: Haldwani → Khati → Dwali → Phurkiya → Zero Point
Duration: 4 Days
Top Moment: Circle of sunlight over Zero Point
Tip: Don’t wear shorts, carry a poncho, pack light
