Goechala: Walking Toward the Third Highest Mountain in the World
1 AM, 15,000 Feet
I've done many treks. High passes. Stormy nights in tents. Sunrises that made me forget where I was.
Nothing prepared me for ViewPoint 1, watching the first light hit Mount Kanchenjunga.
The third highest mountain in the world. So close it felt unreal.
I stood there with two of my closest friends, our breath turning to clouds in the cold, watching the mountain shift from grey to pink to gold. None of us spoke. There wasn't anything to say.
That's what Goechala does.
Why Goechala?
I'd heard about this trek for years. The closest you can get to Kanchenjunga without climbing it. Ten days through Kanchenjunga National Park in Sikkim. Forests, meadows, and views of fifteen major peaks.
But it wasn't just the mountain.
I wanted to see what 8,586 meters looked like up close. I wanted to test myself on a harder trek.
When two of my closest friends said they were in, that was it. We booked with Indiahikes and started training.
The Beginning: Yuksom
Yuksom is where it starts. The first capital of Sikkim, founded in 1642, when three monks crowned the first Chogyal king. It carries history. It also carries that quiet, restless energy before a long walk.
We reached a day early. Met the group. Got our gear checked. Tried to sleep.
I barely did.
Day 1-2: Into the Jungle
The first two days are forest. Dense, deep, old.
You cross suspension bridges over gorges so far down you can't see the bottom. Pha Khola, Tshushay Khola, Mentogang Khola. Each bridge sways a little as you walk, with the Prekchu roaring somewhere below.
The trail runs through oak, magnolia, and rhododendron. We went in spring, so the rhododendrons were in bloom. Pink and red everywhere. Whole slopes lit up.
I've walked through forests before. But a forest at 10,000 feet, with mist threading through trees and flowers falling onto the trail, feels like another place.
Our first camp was Sachen, a small clearing with just enough space for a handful of tents. That night, ringed by trees and the sound of a stream, it felt like we'd stepped out of the world we knew.
By Day 2 we reached Tshoka. Away from the main campsite was a small monastery. I wandered over, sat by the pond beside it, and breathed.
It was a good place to rest.
The Forest Gives Way
Somewhere between Tshoka and Dzongri, it changes.
One moment you're in thick forest, branches brushing your shoulders, the ground soft with fallen flowers. The next, the trees just end, and you step into open land.
It's abrupt. Like crossing a border without noticing the line.
The sky suddenly feels enormous. And in the distance, breaking through cloud, you start to see what you came for.
Snow peaks. Huge. Quiet. Waiting.
Dzongri: The First Sunrise
Dzongri is an acclimatization day. You camp around 13,000 feet and let your body catch up.
But the real gift comes the next morning.
4:30 AM. Headlamps on. A steep climb to Dzongri Top at 13,670 feet.
We reached the top just before dawn. It was bitter cold. My fingers were numb. My lungs burned.
Then the sun came up.
The Kanchenjunga range lit slowly at first, a thin edge of gold on the highest point. Then it spread. Grey to pink. Pink to orange. Orange to white.
I stood there with my friends and none of us spoke. There was nothing to add.
Some moments don't want words.
Thansing: Camping at the Foot of Giants
After Dzongri you drop to Kokchurang, then push on to Thansing.
Thansing is a stark meadow by the Prekchu, right under Mount Pandim. You pitch your tent and look up at a 21,000-foot wall so close it doesn't seem possible.
That evening I sat by the river with my two friends. We didn't talk about work or deadlines or whatever was waiting back home. We talked about nothing that mattered. We laughed at dumb jokes. We watched the mountain go pink in the evening light.
At altitude, you're too tired to pretend. What's left is just you.
By then the Indiahikes group felt like family. We were strangers in Yuksom. A few days of walking, eating, and pushing through hard sections together does something to people.
Samiti Lake
On the way to ViewPoint 1, you pass Samiti Lake.
It's glacial and still, a deep turquoise. When the wind drops, Mount Pandim sits on the surface like a perfect reflection.
I've seen lakes before. Samiti is different. The stillness, the reflection, the scale. I stood there for a few minutes, not thinking about much.
ViewPoint 1: The Summit Day
The hardest day.
We woke at 1 AM. Put on every layer we had. Headlamps on. And started walking into the dark.
The cold was brutal. My fingers stopped working properly. My pace slowed. Each breath felt expensive.
There were moments I wanted to stop. Moments my mind tried to bargain. You've come far enough. The view from here is good enough. You don't need the top.
But I kept going. One step, then the next.
You don't do these treks because they're easy. You do them because the view at the end is worth it.
We reached ViewPoint 1 just before sunrise.
And then Kanchenjunga was there. Massive. Untouchable. Lit from within.
Not one summit but a spread of peaks. The range opened in front of us as the day began.
I thought about everyone who had stood there before. The pilgrims who hold these mountains sacred. The Lepcha people who worship them. The monks who speak of a hidden valley in the lower reaches, a path to paradise.
Standing there, I understood what they mean.
It isn't about conquering a mountain. It's about standing somewhere that puts everything else in perspective.
What the Mountains Taught Me
I've been on many treks. Each one leaves something behind.
Goechala left me with this.
Walk toward what scares you. The best views come after the hardest climbs. That's true on trails. It's true off them.
The people you walk with matter. I could have done this alone. I'm glad I didn't. The shared silences. The jokes that made no sense. The moments one of us struggled and the others waited. That's what stays.
Nature doesn't care about your plans. Weather shifts. Bodies ache. Days stretch longer than you thought. You can fight it or accept it. Acceptance weighs less.
Simplicity is freedom. For ten days my life was walking, eating, sleeping. No notifications. No choices that didn't matter. Just the trail.
Coming Back
The descent is always strange.
You walk through the same forests, the same camps, but you're fitter now, more familiar with the trail.
When we reached Yuksom again, the regular world snapped back. Phones came alive. Messages poured in.
But for a few days I'd lived somewhere else. Somewhere quieter. Somewhere bigger.
If You're Thinking About It
Goechala isn't easy. Around 65 kilometers over 10 days. Altitude up to about 15,100 feet. Long days. Cold nights. Your body will complain.
But if mountains do something to you, go.
Go in spring if you can. The rhododendrons are worth it.
Go with people you love. Or go alone and meet people you'll end up caring about.
And when you're standing at ViewPoint 1, watching Kanchenjunga catch the first light, you'll know why you came.
The mountains don't ask you to be anything. They just ask you to show up.
Show up. Walk. Look. Breathe.
That's enough.
Trek Details
- Duration: 10 days
- Difficulty: Moderate-difficult
- Highest point: ViewPoint 1, around 15,100 ft
- Total distance: 65.7 km
- Best season: Spring (April-May) for rhododendrons, autumn (October-November) for clear views
- Starting point: Yuksom, Sikkim
- Key campsites: Sachen, Tshoka, Dzongri, Kokchurang, Thansing
- Organizer: Indiahikes
The third highest mountain in the world stood there, unmoved. I stood there too, glad I made the walk.