kaarvi cha dongar <2026-02-28 Sat>

The initial jungle path and grassy stretch went fine. The real trouble started when we entered the loose soil and rocky valley. On this trek, shoe grip is everything. Unfortunately, Kailas Sir’s shoes had almost no grip.

To compensate, he started using a lot of upper-body strength—pulling himself up rock patches, grabbing at stones and roots, forcing his way upwards. For a 64-year-old, this quickly led to serious fatigue.

By the time we crossed the loose-soil section, he was completely exhausted. His legs were giving up, his breathing was heavy, and mentally he had hit a wall. At one point he simply could not move forward.

As a group, we made a call: he would stay back and rest at a relatively safe, flat point just before the main rock patch, while the rest of us pushed to the top. After summiting, we returned the same way, reached him, and then slowly guided him down with the team.

Physically, once he stopped, he was mostly safe. But in his mind, he had already seen himself falling, getting injured… or worse. He said later that this phase felt like a “life and death” moment. The biggest battle was not with the mountain, but with his own thoughts.

This is where the real lesson of the trek lies. On mountains like Kaarvi cha Dongar, fear is not theoretical.

Every step on loose soil can slide.

Every rock in the valley can shift.

One wrong move in a steep section could have serious consequences.

You feel fear not once, but again and again—at every exposed turn, every slippery patch, every sudden gust of wind. At first, that fear is raw and intense. Your legs shake, your heart races, and your brain keeps showing you “what if” scenarios.

But something interesting happens when you keep trekking regularly. That same fear which once froze you starts to become familiar. You don’t become fearless; you simply learn to act while being afraid. You learn where to place your foot, how to test a rock before stepping on it, when to say “I’ll stop here” and when to push one more step safely.

After experiencing this kind of real, physical risk again and again, daily life feels different.

Fear of people’s opinions.

Fear of public speaking.

Fear of job uncertainty and money stress.

All these start to look smaller when you’ve already dealt with the possibility of actual injury or death on a narrow trail. The mountains give you a more honest kind of fear—and once you’ve met that, the softer fears of daily life lose some of their grip.

Free-solo climber Alex Honnold—the guy who climbed El Capitan without ropes—has a powerful way of looking at fear. He doesn’t pretend it doesn’t exist. Instead, he treats fear like data.

If he feels too much fear before a climb, it usually means:

He is under-prepared, or

There is something real and risky that he needs to respect.

So he trains more, prepares harder, and keeps exposing himself to controlled doses of fear until that route becomes familiar. His goal is not to “kill” fear, but to bring it down to a level where it doesn’t control his actions.

Trekking Kaarvi cha Dongar felt similar. The fear our group experienced—especially Kailas Sir—was a sign. It said:

The terrain is serious.

The shoe grip is not enough.

Energy levels and age must be respected.

The correct response was not ego, but adjustment: stop, rest, change the plan, protect the team.

In the end, we all reached back safely. We managed to get everyone to the top and down in a secure manner, but the trek taught us very clear lessons:

Check shoe grip of every member before starting.

Ask anyone with poor grip to stay at the temple area rather than pushing into the loose-soil and rock-valley section.

Carry a rope for emergencies.

Maintain at least 5-person distance while climbing the valley to avoid rockfall on each other.

I would still return to Kaarvi cha Dongar—it’s a beautiful, challenging trek, perfect for regular trekkers wanting to test themselves. But I would return with more respect for the route, more attention to gear, and a sharper eye on the weakest member of the team.

And on the subject of fear, I like ending with Alex Honnold’s words:

The point isn’t to be fearless, it’s to learn to act in spite of fear.

What I loved most :: Even after being a hard trek, we managed everyone in the group to reach the top and return in a secure manner.

What I’d improve :: Check shoe grip of everyone before starting; be stricter about who proceeds beyond the temple.

Recommend to :: Regular trekkers looking for something to challenge themselves.

Return visit :: Yes