There are early mornings… and then there are trekking early mornings.
The kind where your alarm goes off in the dark, your body protests, and you question every life decision that led you here — all before your first sip of tea.
Poon Hill was one of those mornings.
Part 1: Getting to Kathmandu
Part 2: Airport Olympics
Part 3: The Trek Begins
The Debate: To Go or Not to Go
The irony is — we almost didn’t go.
The day before had taken it out of us. The jump in altitude from Pokhara (around 800m) to Ghorepani (2,850m) is no small thing. You feel it in your lungs, your legs, your energy… and your motivation.
We were tired. Properly tired.
Add to that:
- overcast weather
- heavy cloud cover
- almost zero guarantee of a sunrise view
…and suddenly staying in bed felt like a very reasonable life choice.
Even I was convinced we might give it a miss.
But something — stubbornness, curiosity, maybe just not wanting to regret it later — got us up.
And thank goodness it did.
The Climb in the Dark
We layered up like we were heading into battle — thermals, down jackets, gloves, headlamps.
It was cold. Proper mountain cold.
We stepped out into the darkness and began the climb. A slow procession of lights moved up the trail — trekkers from all over the world, quietly making their way toward the same point, united by hope more than certainty.
The mist hung thick. Visibility was poor.
Step by step.
Breath by breath.
In the dark.
At that point, it wasn’t even about the view anymore.
It was about showing up.
Why Poon Hill Matters
Poon Hill is one of the most iconic viewpoints in the Annapurna region — and for good reason.
At 3,210m, it offers one of the most accessible panoramic views of the Himalayas without requiring technical climbing or extreme altitude. For many trekkers on the Annapurna Base Camp route, it’s the first real encounter with the scale and majesty of peaks like Annapurna I and Annapurna South.
It’s also one of the few places where you can witness a full sunrise over the Himalayan range, which is why, despite the early start and unpredictable weather, it remains a non-negotiable highlight of the trek.
The Waiting Game
At the top, we weren’t alone.
A crowd had already gathered — all of us staring into a wall of cloud, waiting.
There was a strange tension in the air.
People shifted. Checked the horizon. Looked at each other. Checked again.
And then… it began.
The Reveal
The clouds started to move.
Not dramatically. Not all at once. Just enough to tease.
A glimpse.
Gone.
Another glimpse.
And suddenly, the crowd came alive.
Gasps. Murmurs.
Collective anticipation.
It felt like watching a tense match at Wimbledon — heads turning in unison as the clouds drifted, revealing and concealing the mountains like a slow-motion rally.
And then, finally…
The Moment That Got Me
Somewhere in all of that… I cried.
Not dramatically. Just quietly, unexpectedly.
After everything — the flight chaos, the exhaustion, the climb, the doubt — standing there watching the mountains reveal themselves felt like something shifting internally.
It wasn’t just a view.
It was a moment.
And it hit harder than I expected.
Worth Everything
The cold.
The lack of sleep.
The climb in the dark.
The uncertainty.
All of it — completely worth it.
In fact, it became the highlight of my entire trip.
Even more than reaching Annapurna Base Camp.
Because this wasn’t just about getting somewhere.
It was about showing up when it would have been easier not to… and being rewarded in a way you couldn’t have planned.
Back to Reality: The Trek Continues
After breakfast, we set out to continue our Day 3 trek toward Chuile.
The magic of the morning lingered — but the mountain has a way of quickly grounding you again.
Not everyone was having the same experience.
Mariam had been struggling.
From early on, she hadn’t been feeling well — something that had started back in Kathmandu and hadn’t improved with the sudden altitude gain. By Day 2, she had already opted for a pony.
Butch — our “piano man turned cowboy” also opted for a pony on Day 3. That early morning Poon Hill trek had tested us all. Wisely, he chose to give his body a break.
By the next day, he’d be back on his feet.
But what sounds like an easy solution rarely is.
The terrain is steep. The steps are relentless. And often, the ponies simply can’t manage the gradient with a rider. More than once, they had to dismount and walk — leading the animals up the same unforgiving path.
It gave us a new level of respect — for the mountains, for the effort, and for the Nepalese handlers who manage it all with calm skill.
And something worth noting: the animals are treated with care. When the terrain becomes too much, they stop. No forcing. No pushing beyond what’s fair.
Still, it wasn’t easy.
Mariam’s situation was different. She had even tried to make the climb to Poon Hill that morning, but had to turn back halfway — never an easy decision when you’ve come this far.
And now it was clear: A call would have to be made. Soon.
After speaking with our guide, the plan for the day was simple — and sensible.
Mariam would continue to Chuile on her pony. Not a final decision. Not the end of her trek.
Just the next step.
The Deeper Lesson
That’s the thing about trekking in the Himalayas.
It’s not just about strength.
It’s about listening — to your body, to the mountain, to the moment you’re in.
Plans change. Expectations shift.
And sometimes, the bravest thing you can do… is adjust.
This was the most beautiful day on the trail for me.
Rhodehendron forests slowly gave way to bamboo forests. The mist was thick; the steps went up and up and up.
We met Mr Kim, who had summitted Mount Everest, and agreed these steps were a challenge.
It was a magical day.
By the time we continued on toward Chuile, something had changed again.
The mountains had revealed themselves.
And now, so were we.
Coming next: deeper into the valley, longer days, and the point where the trek stops feeling like an adventure… and starts feeling like a test.