Pin Bhaba Pass Trek - Day 3: Acclimatisation at Kara

I Continue From Here: Pin Bhaba Pass Trek - Day 2: Mulling to Kara

Day 03: Acclimatisation day at  Kara (3,600 m / 11,800 ft)

6 July 2026

Early that morning, some of us witnessed a magical sight. Mist began to slowly pour into the valley, first gathering at its base before gradually rising and engulfing the entire landscape in a soft veil of white. It was a mesmerising spectacle, and I was fortunate enough to capture it in a timelapse video.

Over breakfast, I spoke to Abhi a little more about his footwear business. He explained that clearance sales are often meant to get rid of old stock that would eventually deteriorate with time. By then, the shopkeeper has usually earned the desired profit, so selling the remaining products at heavily discounted prices is still worthwhile. Since the quality of ageing stock can no longer be guaranteed, customers who buy them at a bargain are generally willing to accept that risk.

Steven then spoke about how modern markets are flooded with products when many of the simpler solutions from the past remain just as effective, if not more. He gave the example of his wife cleaning their floors with diluted vinegar instead of using artificially scented cleaning liquids. He also shared stories about his mother and the practical methods she used in everyday life. Steven's mother was French, so he spoke the language fluently. We ended up having a brief conversation in French.

Later that morning, I met Viren and his colleague. They had been appointed by the Himachal Pradesh Department of Animal Husbandry to oversee and monitor sheep under the state's sheep breed improvement programme. The programme aims to improve wool and meat productivity, reduce inbreeding, and strengthen indigenous breeds such as the Gaddi and Rampur Bushair through selective breeding and the subsidised distribution of superior rams.

Sheep suffering from ailments such as foot rot—a very common condition in these mountains—or other diseases are marked with bright colours for easy identification. Viren was remarkably informative, and Steven was particularly delighted to finally have a local with whom he could converse comfortably in English. 

Viren's much quieter assistant, however, was extremely shy. He would silently stand beside Viren, answer only the occasional question about the local habitat, and avoid engaging in conversation otherwise.

Having spent nearly three months in the mountains with very limited human interaction, Viren seemed eager to share stories from his time at the farm. He happily spoke at length about his work and introduced us to his loyal guard dogs—Laalu, Coco, and Ella.

Breakfast consisted of sabudana khichdi and aloo parathas. Afterwards, we went on a short acclimatisation walk to a nearby hill. As we climbed higher, the slopes were embellished with wildflowers blooming in every imaginable colour.

Along the way, Chandni, Ajith Mathew, and I spoke about books. Meanwhile, Dev and Vivan entertained us with stories from their school. They described various teachers and repeatedly asked whether those teachers had acted appropriately. More than anything, they seemed genuinely curious about the kind of teachers Chandni and I were. Did we scold children? Were we lenient? How did we handle difficult students? Their questions reflected the innocent curiosity of adolescents trying to understand the adults who teach them.

At the top, I shared the chikki that I always carry with me on treks. While I was offering it to everyone, Steven asked me a philosophical question:

"Are you sharing this out of genuine goodwill, or because it satisfies your own desire to be generous?"

He was referring to the idea of psychological egoism—the view that all human actions are ultimately motivated by self-interest, even when they appear altruistic.

I paused for a moment before answering. I told him that I genuinely enjoy sharing the things I like with others. Seeing someone else happy makes me happy too. In that sense, perhaps there is an element of selfishness in my actions. But if my happiness comes from making someone else's day a little better, I think I can live with that kind of selfishness. Conversations like these are one of the reasons I enjoy Steven's company. We often end up exchanging ideas that stay with me long after the discussion is over.

Before leaving the hill, I wanted to record Dev singing one of his favourite songs. He chose Saiyaan by Kailash Kher. As he sang, I felt that the calmness and freedom of the mountains had found their way into his voice. There was a sense of stability, sincerity, and openness in his singing that beautifully reflected the qualities of nature itself.

Lunch that afternoon was not that impressive for me at least—noodles, fried rice, Manchurian, and fruit custard.

After lunch, Vivan and Dev moderated a game of Mafia. Few games bond a group as effortlessly as Mafia does. At the same time, I have also seen it create arguments when people take the game too personally. As long as I am not assigned the role of the Mafia, I thoroughly enjoy it. Playing the Mafia always feels mentally exhausting because I have to behave in ways that are completely unlike me. We played three rounds, and whether participating or simply watching others deceive and defend themselves, it was tremendous fun. In between, we also played Dumb Charades. Later, some of us settled down with a game of Uno while others headed out to play frisbee.

In the evening, honey-roasted potatoes were served as snacks, followed later by ragi momo soup. It was an incredible amount of food for a day on which we had hardly walked, though I consciously kept a watch on both what and how much I ate.

I also learnt another game from the boys—Contact. It is a fascinating word game in which players work together through shared clues and word associations to uncover a hidden word. I should really keep a record of all the interesting games I have learnt on various treks. They always come in handy whenever friends or family gather at home.

The previous evening, we had the place all to ourselves. By morning, several other trekking groups had arrived and set up campsites around us. The once-quiet campsite had become crowded.

That evening, my mind was as turbulent as the waters of the river. I had been speaking too much, experiencing too much, and feeling too much—things I had gradually learnt, with age, to steady and keep in check. I stood by the river for a while, hoping my thoughts too would find some calm. But the water remained agitated throughout, just like my mind. A free and tranquil flow had been interrupted.

Dinner included bhindi sabzi and gulab jamun. The latter was naturally the highlight for me. Bhindi, on the other hand, has never been one of my favourites, so I did not even bother tasting it.

After dinner, we played The Name Game, also known as Celebrity Fishbowl. It was a lot of fun. Credit goes largely to the two young boys, whose enthusiasm completely transformed the energy of the group. Looking back, I think this was the day our team dynamics truly changed. Until then we had been trekking together; from that day onwards, we genuinely began enjoying one another's company.

That night, Kush planned a photography session of the illuminated tents beneath the star-filled sky. His idea was for people inside each tent to switch their lights on and off on his signal to create the desired effect. It took us three or four attempts before everyone got the timing right.

I realise I have not spoken about Kush so far. He is a young IT professional from Bihar who now lives in Bangalore. Throughout the trek, he had mostly kept to himself, quietly immersed in photography, and I had not had many opportunities to speak with him. During a photoshoot that evening, however, we spent some time together and I got to know him a little better. There is much more to say about him later. 

Sleep did not come easily that night. I woke up several times and spent the early hours tossing from one side to the other until dawn finally arrived. The voices in my mind were too loud to let me rest. Too many experiences, too many conversations, and too many thoughts had disturbed the mind's equilibrium, making peaceful sleep impossible.

To Be Continued...