Climbing Mera Peak was something I had been thinking about for a long time. As someone who has spent years in the mountains, I knew it was going to be different more remote, colder, and demanding in its own way. But no matter how much you prepare, nothing compares to actually being out there, surrounded by white giants and endless skies.
I started my journey from Lukla, just like many other Himalayan treks. The first few days were peaceful, passing through quiet villages, rhododendron forests, and crossing swinging bridges over fast rivers. The real test hadn’t started yet. These early trails helped me settle into the rhythm slow and steady. We don’t rush in the mountains.
We walked through the Hinku Valley, which is untouched compared to the busier trails of Everest Base Camp. The villages are smaller, the people fewer, and the silence deep. But that silence gave me time to listen to myself, to feel every footstep, every breath, and every heartbeat echo through the chill air.
The altitude hits differently on this trail. As we went above 4,000 meters, I could feel my energy dipping. Even short climbs felt heavier. You feel lightheaded sometimes, and your appetite disappears. It becomes more of a mental game at that point. It’s no longer about strength it is about your mindset. Our guides were really helpful, checking our oxygen levels every day, reminding us to drink water, and rest often. I’ve seen strong trekkers turn back because they didn’t respect the altitude.
Khare was the last settlement before the summit push. From there, we trained for a day practicing with crampons, ropes, and ice axes. Even if you have done peaks before, brushing up on those techniques helps. The weather started to turn colder, and every night felt like a battle with the sleeping bag. It’s not just the cold outside it is the kind that creeps into your bones.
Summit day was the hardest. We started before 2 a.m. It was pitch dark and biting cold. Every layer I had was on my body. The wind cut through even the thickest jackets. Breathing was slow. I could see only the boots in front of me, crunching over hard snow. The slope wasn’t too technical, but it was long, and every step felt like a challenge.
Somewhere along the ridge, the sun started to rise. That moment is still stuck in my mind. The sky turned golden, and slowly, the silhouettes of Everest, Lhotse, Makalu, and Kanchenjunga came into view like giants waking up. I paused. My legs were tired, but my eyes were wide open. It was like being in a painting that you don’t want to stop looking at.
When I finally reached the summit at 6,476 meters, I couldn’t speak much. My lips were frozen, and I was trying to catch my breath. But deep inside, there was this powerful feeling like I had just proven something to myself. Not to the world, not for a photo but to myself. That I could push through discomfort, fear, and doubt. That moment made every freezing night and aching foot worth it.
Coming down was easier physically but still needed care. The snow can turn soft, and it’s easy to slip. We took it slow and made our way back to Khare. I remember that first hot tea after reaching the lodge it felt better than any luxury in the world.
If someone asks me now, “Was it hard?” yes, it was. Mera Peak is not a technical climb, but the altitude, cold, and remoteness make it serious. It teaches you patience, endurance, and respect for the mountains. You need to prepare well, mentally and physically. You need a good team and a good guide.
But if someone asks me, “Would you do it again?” without a second thought, yes. Because some views are worth freezing for. Some moments in life make you feel truly alive. And standing on top of Mera Peak is one of them.
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