The Day That Almost Ended the Trek
This was probably the most memorable day of the entire trail, and not for the reasons I would have hoped. My original plan was to stop in Tatopani, but when I arrived it was mostly locals and no other hikers. With the last member of my group heading back to Pokhara, I was about to be completely alone. Instead, I made a last-minute decision to follow an Australian couple who were continuing on toward Ghorepani.
The descent from Ghasa was quick and almost effortless. We dropped into jungle terrain again, the air growing warmer with every step, a wide river rushing alongside the trail as we crossed suspension bridges. In just under three hours we reached Tatopani, the traditional endpoint of the circuit. I debated staying there and possibly starting the Annapurna Base Camp trek since I had far more time than expected, but it was still early and the Australians were moving on, so I went with them.
They were much faster on the climbs, and before long I told them to continue ahead while I caught up later. From that point on, I was hiking alone. The trail was well marked, but the elevation gain was relentless, nearly 4,000 feet after Tatopani. I stopped seeing other hikers entirely for a while, only spotting a few as the sun began to dip lower in the sky.
I had not eaten much since lunch and had run out of snacks, though I still had plenty of water. As temperatures dropped, I barely noticed. Adrenaline carried me forward even as my breathing grew labored and every step felt heavier than the last. When I finally reached the archway marking Ghorepani, relief washed over me, only to be replaced by dread when I realized I still had several long flights of stone stairs to climb.
When I reached the teahouse where I had planned to meet the Australians, it was shuttered and abandoned. With no choice, I pushed on toward the center of the village, which was surprisingly busy due to hikers preparing for the Poon Hill sunrise. I stumbled into the first open lodge and asked for a room, drawing more than a few concerned looks. After being shown to a small room, I asked for snacks and a blanket and sat down, which is when things took a turn. My arms and legs began to tingle and go numb, and the sensation only worsened. I made my way back downstairs, and the hosts sat me by the fire, assuming I was simply cold.
What happened next likely saved my life. A group of hikers nearby noticed me and quickly realized I was still wearing sweat-soaked clothes. They immediately helped me change into dry layers, wrapped me in my sleeping bag, and brought me back to the fire. One of them ordered hot, salty soup and more food, and after eating I finally fell asleep next to the warmth. Hours later I woke feeling clearer and far more stable. That night, after looking up my symptoms, I learned I had experienced mild hypothermia. If not for the kindness and quick thinking of strangers, I would not have made it. It was a hard lesson in how quickly small decisions can compound, and how lucky I was to walk away from it at all.