Having trekked the Himalayas myself many times, I was eager to bring my kids into the fold. The Annapurna Base Camp (ABC) trek felt perfect: under seven days, accessible by jeep, and well-traveled enough for beginners. My eldest, Riddhi, 13, and Hrig, 10, signed on immediately. When my sister Jyotsna heard of our plans, she jumped in too. “You aren’t doing this without the aunt!” she declared.
Three of us were novice hikers, so a guide was non-negotiable. We found Mountain Ram Adventures through Ram Saran Upreti’s YouTube videos, where he shared treks with clients in a mix of humor and passion. Those videos had built his business and eventually funded his Seven Summits quest. For us, he assigned a calm, experienced guide, Pawan, and two young porters - who amusingly were named Hari and Krishna.
Our adventure began with a jeep ride from Kathmandu. I imagined a smooth Land Rover gliding along Himalayan highways, but the reality was a beat-up Indian made Mahindra Bolero, dustier than the roads outside, threadbare shocks, and no air conditioning. Every bump on the nine-hour drive to Ghandruk, the starting point of our expedition, had us ducking for cover so our heads did not hit the low roof.
Upon reaching the village, we hiked fifteen minutes to our guesthouse, the view of Annapurna South, Huinchuli, and the iconic Machhapuchhre (Fishtail) mountains had us all in awe. The adventure had officially begun.
Day one of trekking brought its first test: Jyotsna’s stomach. Battling diarrhea, she struggled just five minutes into the trail. Meanwhile, the kids zipped ahead like seasoned hikers, leaving even our guide impressed. I liked to think our weekends in Singapore, spent hiking, biking, and kayaking, had planted a bit of grit in them.
The climb from Ghandruk to Chhomrong was steep, but the trail surprisingly empty. By late afternoon, we reached Chhomrong’s bustling teahouses, and Jyotsna, exhausted and shocked by the length and pace of the hike, declared, “This is insanity!” It took some family calls and reassurance from other trekkers before she accepted the Himalayan reality.
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| A view of Annapurna South and Huinchuli from Chhomrong |
By Day 3, everyone had settled into the rhythm of trekking. Misunderstandings added humor - our guide initially mistook Jyotsna’s babyish face for a third child - but spirits were high. The forested trail to Dovan offered solitude and beauty, while Hrig impressed passing college-level trekkers with his determination and flawless Nepali - especially since they assumed he was a foreigner given his eye-catching trekking gear.
Day 4 included detours. A snow-damaged trail required bushwhacking and river crossings to reach Machhapuchhre Base Camp (MBC). Atop a snow hill, Hari turned Hrig into an improvised sledder, a last burst of pure joy before fatigue set in. Dinner at MBC, however, was a stark reminder of high-altitude culinary limits. Vegetable momos and fried rice lost their magic, but a guesthouse dog happily cleaned our leftovers.
Day 5 was the climax - Annapurna Base Camp, 4,130 meters above sea level. We left MBC at 3 a.m. to catch sunrise, trudging through freezing dark. Hrig struggled, but with toe warmers and Hari’s careful support, he found a second wind. The sanctuary opened before us: Machhapuchhre behind, Annapurna South and Hiunchuli to the east, and Annapurna I straight ahead. Jyotsna and Riddhi snapped photos like influencers, Hrig played with a dog at one of the teahouses, and I quietly reflected on the peaks, memorials, and the family standing beside me.
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| Family photo at Annapurna Base Camp - 4130M |
Descent brought its own surprises. At Himalaya village, Hrig complained of stomach pain that quickly escalated into dramatic screams, prompting thoughts of a helicopter rescue. Relief, however, came not from turbine winds but human-powered ones. “I farted. The pain is gone. Now I’m fine,” Hrig announced, much to everyone’s astonishment.
Having lost precious time in the morning, we raced towards Chhomrong at 1.5X speed, pausing only for a slice of deluxe carrot cake mid-hike - a sweet treat that turned out to be more of an overpriced tourist trap than a mountain oasis. Still it fueled us for the final steep climb into Chhomrong, where indulgent dinners and friendly conversations with fellow trekkers reminded us that trekking isn’t just about trails or peaks - but also about the people and connections you make along the way.
The last stretch to Jhinu Danda was leisurely. Winding past boutique guesthouses and ending with a memorable crossing of a 230-meter suspension bridge over the Modi Khola. On the jeep ride back to Pokhara, while everyone else had dozed-off, Hari shared his story - how portering was not just a means of income, but an opportunity to engage with the world, learn, and grow. In fact, with such thin business margins, some porters weren’t even guaranteed pay. They traveled simply for the adventure and the hope of a decent tip.
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| The massive suspension bridge below Jhinu Danda |
We were deeply grateful for the care of Pawan, Hari, and Krishna and tipped them generously. The crew was absolutely thrilled - and so were we. To this day, my kids still talk about the ABC Trek, always asking when we’ll set off on our next Himalayan adventure together.
