Chasing the Sky Goddess: My Journey to Ama Yangri, Sindhupalchowk

 

written by: Uday Rai

Traveler: Sushil Gurung

 

Where the Sky Meets the Soul

There’s a quiet ache that comes with city life — the hum of machines replacing the song of wind, and the glow of screens outshining the stars. One chilly Friday morning, I decided I had had enough of Kathmandu’s chaos. The mountains were calling, and this time, the call had a name — Ama Yangri, the “Mother of the Sky.”

I’d heard of her — a sacred peak in the Helambu region of Sindhupalchowk, revered by the locals as a living goddess who watches over the valley. They say she’s the protector of the land, and that her blessings bring harmony to the hearts of those who seek her.

So, with my backpack, camera, and a restless spirit, I set off — chasing clouds, faith, and perhaps, a little redemption.

 

The Road to Helambu: Into the Heart of Sindhupalchowk

The journey began with a winding drive from Kathmandu to Melamchi, a town still bearing the scars of the 2021 floods but alive with resilience. The road, carved between emerald hills and glistening rivers, twisted like poetry written in stone.

From Melamchi, a rough dirt trail snaked up toward Tarkeghyang, one of the traditional Sherpa villages that cradle the route to Ama Yangri. The air grew thinner, the chatter of civilization faded, and every curve revealed another frame of raw Himalayan beauty — terraced fields, prayer flags, and houses built from centuries of wisdom. By the time I reached Tarkeghyang (2,600 m), dusk had already spilled over the horizon. The village seemed to float in a soft mist — wooden houses glowing under butter lamps, and a stupa standing guard at its center. I spent the night at a small lodge where an elderly Sherpa woman served steaming thukpa and shared stories of the mountain that loomed beyond the clouds.

 

The Legend of Ama Yangri: The Mother Goddess of Helambu

Before dawn, as I sipped yak butter tea, my host began to tell me the legend of Ama Yangri — one that has echoed through generations.

Long ago, it is said, Ama Yangri was a compassionate goddess who protected the Helambu Valley from evil spirits. When demons threatened to destroy the region, she sacrificed herself to shield the people. Her spirit merged with the peak that now bears her name.

Locals still believe that no harm can befall Helambu as long as Ama Yangri stands cloaked in snow, watching from above. It is also said that those who climb her summit with a pure heart can glimpse the Himalayas from Everest to Langtang in a single sweep, a divine panorama gifted only to the faithful.

According to another legend, the term ‘Ama’ signifies Mother, ‘Yang’ denotes Wealth or Money, and ‘Ri’ means High Place or Hill. The name, therefore, symbolizes a “Mother of Wealth residing on a high hill.” In this belief, Ama, the goddess of prosperity, is placed before Yang to represent her nurturing role as the guardian and benefactor of the people living in that region.

That story stayed with me as I began my ascent — a poetic whisper that turned each step into a prayer.

 

The Climb: Between Clouds and Faith

The trail from Tarkeghyang to Ama Yangri is not long — about 3 to 4 hours uphill — but it tests your lungs and spirit alike. I started at sunrise, the air crisp and thin, my breath weaving into the fog. The path wound through ancient rhododendron forests where sunlight trickled in golden shards.

With every turn, I heard the wind hum through the trees — a sound almost like chanting. Prayer flags fluttered along the ridges, whispering blessings to anyone who dared listen.

Halfway up, the trail steepened, and the earth seemed to tilt into the sky. My legs trembled, but something kept pulling me upward — maybe curiosity, maybe reverence.

And then, just as the last patch of mist lifted, I saw her.

 

The Summit: Face to Face with the Sky Goddess

Ama Yangri Peak (3,771 m) is crowned with a chorten (stupa) wrapped in prayer flags. When I reached the top, the world below dissolved into a sea of clouds. Before me stretched a breathtaking horizon — Everest, Langtang, Dorje Lakpa, Ganesh Himal, all shimmering like ancient sentinels.

There was silence — deep, sacred, eternal. I felt like a speck of dust in the presence of something vast and merciful.

Standing there, wind whipping through the flags, I understood why locals bow before Ama Yangri. She isn’t just a mountain — she’s a mother, a protector, and perhaps, the quiet pulse of Helambu’s soul.

I closed my eyes and let the wind carry my thoughts away — every worry, every regret, every restless craving of modern life. For a fleeting moment, I was free.

Descending with Grace: The Return to Earth

The descent was easier, but my heart was heavier — as though I was leaving behind a part of myself. The villagers I met on the way smiled knowingly, as if they’d seen this transformation before.

Back in Tarkeghyang, I joined a small local gathering. Someone played a Tibetan lute, and laughter filled the air. The stars glowed brighter here — unpolluted, unhurried.

I realized then that Ama Yangri isn’t just a destination; it’s an awakening. It’s where the divine meets the human, where silence speaks louder than prayer.

If You Go: A Traveller’s Guide to Ama Yangri

 

Getting There:

From Kathmandu, take a bus or jeep to Melamchi Bazaar (approx. 4–5 hours). From there, drive or hike to Tarkeghyang or Sermathang, the two main starting points for the Ama Yangri trek.

 

Best Time to Visit:

 Spring (March–May): Blooming rhododendrons and clear skies.

Autumn (September–November): Crisp air, clear mountain views, and ideal trekking weather.

 

Trek Duration:

1–2 days (short trek from Tarkeghyang) or 3–4 days including visits to surrounding villages like Sermathang and Melamchi Gaon.

 

Accommodation:

Basic teahouses and lodges in Tarkeghyang and Sermathang offer warm meals and cozy stays.

 

Highlights:

• 360° Himalayan panorama from the summit
• Traditional Sherpa culture and monasteries
• Sunrise above the sea of clouds
• Spiritual tranquility

 

 What Ama Yangri Taught Me?? 

As I made my way back to Kathmandu, the road seemed different — the same turns, yet somehow softer. I had left the mountain, but Ama Yangri hadn’t left me.

She lingered in my thoughts, like a prayer unfinished — a gentle reminder that the greatest journeys are not measured in miles but in moments of stillness.

And perhaps, that’s the real magic of Ama Yangri — she doesn’t just show you the Himalayas. She shows you yourself.

Silent trek to the Annapurna Circuit: My Solo Journey Through the Heart of Nepal

 

Annapurna Circuit: Listening to the Mountains

Annapurna circuit; The sound of my boots crunching against gravel, the fluttering of prayer flags, and the soft whisper of the wind — that’s how my story begins on 10th August, 2025.

I am Deep Rai, and this is the story of my silent solo trek on the Annapurna Circuit — a journey not just across Nepal’s most iconic trail, but deep into my own thoughts and silence.

Silent hiking is not about the absence of sound; it’s about rediscovering the presence of everything around you.

The Call of the Annapurna Circuit

The Annapurna Circuit, stretching through central Nepal, is one of the world’s most breathtaking and culturally rich trekking routes. It leads from the lush greenery of Besisahar to the arid highlands near Muktinath, crossing villages where ancient traditions still breathe in rhythm with the mountains.

But my purpose wasn’t only to reach Thorong La Pass (5,416 m) — it was to listen to the stories the trail whispers, and to hear my own voice in the silence between them.

Walking in Silence

When I began my trek, I made a simple rule: no music, no podcasts, no constant conversation. Just my breath and the sound of the earth beneath me.

At first, the silence felt heavy — even lonely. But the higher I climbed, the more it became a companion. I began to notice details that would have otherwise passed unseen: the delicate frost on pine needles, the low chant of monks carried on the wind, the distant echo of yak bells.

Every sound became sharper, every moment fuller. I realized that silence wasn’t emptiness — it was awareness.

Encounters Along the Way

One afternoon, I met Tenzin, an elderly man near Tal village, carrying firewood along the narrow bridge. When I offered help, he smiled and said,

“You carry on your trek; I carry my wood. Both are heavy sometimes.”

Mine were legs, and his were the woods. His words became the quiet mantra or a chant of my trek that boosts my energy.

In Chame, I stayed in a small teahouse owned by Ama Lhamu, who told me the legend of the Silent Monk of Manang — a man who meditated for twelve years without speaking, believing silence was the highest prayer.

“Those who walk quietly,” she said, “walk closest to the gods.”

The Joy of Connection

At Upper Pisang, I watched the sun rise over Annapurna II, painting the peaks in soft gold. A group of local children laughed as they ran past me, their joy contagious. I offered them dried fruit, and they gifted me a handwoven bracelet.

No words were exchanged — but the silence between us was filled with warmth and meaning.

That moment reminded me that silence doesn’t separate; it connects.

Whispers of the Mountains: Legends and Myths of Annapurna

Each village along the Annapurna Circuit has its own stories.

In Manang, a herder spoke of Tilicho Lake’s guardian spirit, who protects travelers who walk with respect. In Braga, a monk shared a tale about a snow leopard that appears to lost souls under the moonlight.

These legends reminded me that the Himalayas are more than mountains — they are living storytellers, echoing the beliefs, fears, and hopes of generations.

The Final Ascent: Thorong La Pass

Crossing Thorong La Pass was the most challenging and sacred part of my trek. The thin air bit at my lungs, and the trail seemed endless.

But when I reached the summit, surrounded by fluttering prayer flags, I didn’t shout or cheer. I simply stood there, breathing — the silence inside me perfectly matched the silence of the world.

That was my victory: quiet, personal, complete.

Returning to Myself from Annapurna Circuit

Descending toward Muktinath, I met a priest who asked, “Did you find what you were searching for?”

At that moment, I realized I wasn’t looking for anything outside myself. The stillness I sought was already within me — I just had to walk far enough to hear it.

Why Silent Hiking the Annapurna Circuit Is Worth It

If you plan to trek the Annapurna Circuit in Nepal, I encourage you to try at least one day in silence. Let the natural rhythm of the Himalayas guide your thoughts. Listen to the bells, the rivers, and the heartbeat of the trail.

You’ll discover that the true beauty of the Annapurna Circuit lies not just in its landscapes, but in its quiet power to transform you.

Conclusion: The Language of Silence

The Annapurna Circuit isn’t just a physical challenge — it’s a spiritual dialogue between you and the earth.

And sometimes, the most profound way to listen… is simply to be still.

A Tale of a Traveller: Journey to the Top of the World

Everest Base Camp Trek

The question always comes: why Everest Base Camp?

For some, it’s just a name on a map. For others, it’s an adventure waiting to be ticked off. But for me, it was more than either. It was a calling—a dream whispered by the mountains themselves.

This is not someone else’s tale. This is mine. A journey into the eastern Solukhumbu, into the heart of Sherpa country, where Everest herself watches over you. What I saw, what I felt, and what I learned cannot be captured in statistics or guidebooks. It is a story of footsteps, legends, and discovery.

                 

Kathmandu – The Gateway to the Himalayas

Kathmandu greeted me with chaos and charm. Streets were alive with motorbikes weaving through alleys, monks spinning prayer wheels, and the scent of masala tea and incense thick in the air.

In Durbar Square, I watched children chasing pigeons under carved wooden temples. A shopkeeper, noticing my hiking boots, smiled and said: “You’re going to Everest, aren’t you? She calls those who are ready.” I carried those words with me.

Lukla – The Edge of Fear

The flight to Lukla was unforgettable. The tiny plane wove between jagged peaks, clouds brushing the wings, before descending onto a short airstrip perched on the mountainside. My heart pounded as I stepped onto the tarmac. The adventure had truly begun.

First Steps Into Sherpa Land: Phakding

The first day’s walk was gentle, winding past mani stones carved with Tibetan prayers and suspension bridges swaying over roaring rivers.

In Phakding, a villager told me of the river’s spirit: “She is strong and angry, but if you whisper your wish as you cross, she carries it to the mountains.” I whispered mine quietly as the bridge trembled beneath my feet.

Namche Bazaar – The Climb of Breath

The climb to Namche Bazaar was steep, testing my lungs and legs. Then, around a bend, the trail opened to a view I will never forget: Everest herself, peeking above the ridges.

That night, sipping tea in a small bakery, I watched her glowing in the distance. I felt small, but alive in a way that only mountains can make you feel.

Acclimatization and Sherpa Stories

Namche was alive with color—yaks adorned with bells, stalls selling yak butter, trekking gear, and prayer beads. Sherpas laughed and shared stories of climbers, spirits, and gods of the mountains.

A monk once told me, “Everest is not just a mountain. She is Chomolungma, Mother Goddess. We do not climb her; we ask her permission.” Those words stayed with me.

Tengboche Monastery – The Monastery in the Clouds

The trail led through forests of rhododendron glowing red against the snow. Tengboche Monastery stood framed by peaks, silent yet alive with chanting monks. Ama Dablam sparkled golden in the sunset.

A Sherpa whispered, “Ama Dablam is the Mother’s necklace. She watches over us when Everest turns away.” And somehow, I believed him.

Dingboche and Lobuche – The World Thins

Above the tree line, the world felt fragile. Dingboche and Lobuche were small villages surrounded by giants. Stone memorials lined the trail—tributes to climbers who never returned. Respect for the mountains became a quiet companion on every step.

Gorak Shep – The Desert of Ice

The trail became rocky, barren, and cold. Gorak Shep, the last stop before Base Camp, sat on a frozen plain. That night, the stars hung impossibly close, and I dreamed of roaring winds and white peaks that seemed alive.

Everest Base Camp – The Dream Realized

Finally, I arrived. Prayer flags danced in the wind. The Khumbu Icefall loomed ahead, groaning like a frozen beast. Around me, trekkers cheered and hugged, but I stood still, letting silence sink in.

Everest did not need me to conquer her. Standing there, I realized she had already conquered me.

Kala Patthar – The Golden Crown of Everest

Before dawn, I climbed Kala Patthar. My lungs burned, my legs shook—but when the sun rose, Everest turned gold. The world stopped. The mountain was not a peak; she was a goddess, radiant and eternal.

The Journey Home

The way back felt lighter, though the mountains never fully released me. Every prayer flag, every yak bell, every smile from the Sherpas stayed etched in me.

Everest Base Camp was never just about reaching a place. It was about people, legends, silence under the stars, humility, and the discovery of strength inside oneself.

And so, my tale ends—not with conquest, but with wonder. Everest Base Camp is more than a trek. It is a story written on the soul.

Practical Tips for Aspiring Trekkers

Even the most magical journey benefits from preparation. Here’s what I learned along the way:

Best Time to Trek:

• Spring (March–May): Rhododendrons bloom, skies are clear, and weather is relatively stable.
• Autumn (September–November): Crisp skies, mild temperatures, and the most popular trekking season.

Duration:

• Most itineraries take 12–14 days round-trip from Lukla, allowing time for acclimatization.

Fitness & Preparation:

• You don’t need to be an athlete, but cardio and endurance training help.
• Practice hiking with a backpack and walking on uneven terrain to prepare your legs.

Permits Required:

• Sagarmatha National Park Entry Permit
• TIMS Card (Trekkers’ Information Management System)

Essential Gear:

• Layered clothing for varying temperatures
• Warm sleeping bag (rated at least –15°C)
• Trekking poles for steep sections
• Water purification tablets or a filter
• Sturdy boots with ankle support

Tips from Experience:

• Take your time with acclimatization—altitude sickness is real.
• Interact with locals; Sherpas’ stories and rituals add soul to the journey.
• Keep a journal or camera handy; every bend in the trail feels like a photograph in motion.
• Respect the mountains—they are awe-inspiring, but unforgiving.