Travel

The Pulchowki Hike

How to Pay for Your Sins in Leeches, Sweat, and Existential Dread

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Binod Lama

31 July 2026 3 min read 105 views

The Pulchowki Hike

It always starts the same way. You wake up on a Saturday morning, look at the smog hovering over Kathmandu, and think, "You know what sounds great? Walking up a mountain." You pack your bags, head to Godavari, and feel a surge of optimism as you look up at Pulchowki, the highest hill in the valley standing at a deceptive 2,750 meters.

The base is beautiful—lush botanical gardens, chirping birds, and cool air. It convinces you that you are an adventurer, a rugged explorer of the wild. Enjoy that feeling. It will last exactly seven minutes until the actual trail begins and you realize your lungs are entirely decorative.

Meet the Locals: Nature's Little Blood-Sucking Vampires

If you choose to hike Pulchowki during or right after the monsoon, congratulations! You have volunteered as a walking, breathing buffet for the local leech population. These aren't just normal leeches; these are highly trained, Olympic-level gymnasts that will drop from trees, sneak through the eyelets of your expensive hiking boots, and bypass three layers of clothing just to sample your iron levels. By hour two, you will stop caring about the rich biodiversity of the oak and rhododendron forest and start frantically doing a chaotic, full-body slap-dance every time a leaf touches your neck.

The Never-Ending Stairway to Spiritual Enlightenment (Or Cardiac Arrest)

The Pulchowki trail offers two distinct paths: the scenic, winding dirt road, or the "shortcuts" that are essentially vertical walls of mud and loose stones. Choosing the shortcuts is a fantastic way to meet God early. As you scramble up inclines that defy the laws of physics, grabbing onto thorny bushes for dear life, you will begin to re-evaluate every life choice that led you to this moment. Your thighs will scream, your heartbeat will sound like a heavy metal drum solo, and you will find yourself fiercely envying the absolute stillness of the rocks around you.

The Summit: Congratulations, You Made It to a Military Base

After four hours of questioning your sanity, you finally reach the top. What awaits you at the pinnacle of Kathmandu's grandest peak? A sweeping, panoramic view of the majestic Himalayas? Well, yes, if the weather feels like cooperating—which it rarely does. More often than not, you are greeted by a wall of dense, blinding fog and the heavily guarded gates of a military barracks and telecom tower. Nothing says "peak outdoor adventure" quite like staring at barbed wire while shivering violently in your sweat-soaked t-shirt.

The Descent: Destroys Your Knees, Elevates Your Soul

Going down should be easier, right? Wrong. The descent is a brutal, knee-shattering journey where gravity becomes your sworn enemy. You will slip, you will slide, and you will develop a deep, personal relationship with the concept of friction. By the time you finally stumble back down to the Godavari bus park, looking like a survivor from a low-budget horror movie, you will swear you are never doing this again. But as you sit in a local shop, downing a plate of momos and a cold drink, a twisted part of your brain will think, "Well... that wasn't so bad." Don't listen to it. That's just the hypoxia talking.

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Binod Lama

Chief Himalayan Pathfinder

Binod maps out the country with the confidence of a man who never asks for directions, even when he’s three ridges away from his destination and the only "landmark" is a very confused goat.