Unforgettable Kailash Trek: 6-Day Journey to the Roof of the World

It’s 2025 now, and looking back at my photo album from last autumn, I still can’t quite believe I actually did it. I mean, me? The girl who used to complain walking up two flights of stairs at the office? The one who considered a “hike” to be the parking lot at the mall? Yeah, that me. I walked 52 kilometers around the holy Mount Kailash. I’m writing this diary entry to tell you that if you are thinking about it, just go. It will change you. It might even break you a little bit, but putting you back together stronger. This is the story of my Kailash Trek.

The “Why” That Hit Me Out of Nowhere

Let’s be real, I wasn’t exactly a seasoned mountaineer. Before this trip, my most intense physical activity was trying to get a table at a fully booked restaurant. But something shifted. I was doom-scrolling one evening, looking at the same gray cubicle walls I see every day, and I stumbled upon a story about the Kailash Trek. It wasn’t just a walk in the park; it was a pilgrimage. People say you don’t choose the mountain; the mountain chooses you. I rolled my eyes at that at first, but honestly? It’s true.

I started researching obsessively. I read about the “South Col,” the 5,630-meter pass that tests everyone’s lungs. I read about the frozen lakes and the sheer, jagged peaks that look like teeth trying to bite the sky. And then, I saw the pictures of the “Sunshine” hitting the summit. I was sold. I booked my flight to Lhasa. My friends thought I was having a mid-life crisis at 28. Maybe I was. But it felt more like I was trying to find my actual life. The thought of the Kailash Trek consumed me.

Day 1 & 2: Lhasa to the Edge of the World

Flying into Lhasa is an experience in itself. You see the brown, rugged earth suddenly dominated by the Potala Palace. The air hits you immediately. It’s thin. It’s dry. It smells like juniper incense and yak butter. I landed, grabbed my bags, and immediately felt a dull headache. “Altitude sickness,” the driver said cheerfully. Great.

We spent two days acclimatizing in Lhasa. I walked around Barkhor Street, spinning prayer wheels with the locals. It’s chaotic, beautiful, and spiritual all at once. I tried to drink liters of water, but the dryness just sucked it right out of me. I kept thinking about the Kailash Trek and wondering if my body would cooperate. I bought some Diamox (altitude meds) just in case. I’m not too proud to admit I needed the help.

On the second day, we drove towards Shigatse. The landscapes started changing. Green valleys turned into brown, high-altitude deserts. The Tibetan Plateau is not just “pretty”—it’s intimidating. It feels ancient. I saw yaks grazing by the river, their long hair swaying in the freezing wind. I felt a weird sense of calm wash over me. Maybe this was the “spiritual healing” everyone talks about. Or maybe it was just the lack of oxygen making me loopy. Either way, the anticipation for the Kailash Trek was building.

Day 3: Arriving at Darchen – The Base of Kailash

Darchen is a dusty, wind-battered town sitting at 4,675 meters. It exists purely because of the mountain. The moment we stepped out of the car, the wind nearly knocked me over. It was cold. Bitterly cold. But there it was—Mount Kailash. Standing at the end of the valley, pristine white against the blue sky.

I stared at it for a long time. It looked… fake. Like a painting. It’s so symmetrical, so perfect. It didn’t look real. But the wind biting my face reminded me that this was very, very real. I checked into a basic guesthouse. The heater didn’t work. The toilet was a hole in the ground. I loved every second of it. It felt authentic. No distractions. Just me, the mountain, and the impending 52km walk.

I met a fellow traveler at dinner. An older guy from Germany named Klaus. He was doing his third Kailash Trek. “Why again?” I asked. He just smiled and pointed to his heart. “It pulls me back.” I thought he was a bit crazy then. I understand him now. The Kailash Trek gets into your blood.

Day 4: The First Day of the Trek – The Valley Walk

We started early. Like, 6 AM early. The sun hadn’t hit the valley yet, so it was freezing. We hired yaks to carry our main bags (best decision ever, my knees thank me). I had a small daypack with water, snacks, and my camera.

The first 10km is relatively flat, walking through a wide valley with the river rushing alongside. It’s deceptive. You feel good. You think, “I can do this all day.” But the altitude is a silent killer. I had to stop every 20 minutes to catch my breath. My heart felt like it was trying to escape my ribcage.

We reached a place called Dirapuk Monastery. It’s situated right at the foot of the north face of Kailash. You can see the “Swastika” (a natural feature on the mountain that looks like a religious symbol) clearly from here. The view was worth every painful step. I sat on a rock, ate a dry protein bar, and just watched the clouds dance around the summit. I felt incredibly small. Insignificant, yet somehow part of everything. This specific part of the Kailash Trek is visually stunning.

That night, sleeping in the guesthouse near Dirapuk was miserable. The cold seeped through the walls. I wore every piece of clothing I owned. I couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking about the next day. The South Col. 5,630 meters. The “Death Zone” (technically anything over 5,000m is where your body starts dying slowly). I was terrified. I won’t lie. I almost quit. I thought about how warm my bed back home was. I thought about my cat. I cried a little bit. Then I fell asleep.

Day 5: The Ascent – Conquering the Dolma La Pass

This is the day everyone dreads. And the day I will never forget.

We started at 4:00 AM. It was pitch black. We used headlamps to light the rocky path. The air was so cold it hurt to breathe. The ascent was relentless. Step. Pause. Breathe. Step. Pause. Breathe. My legs felt like lead. My head pounded.

About halfway up, I hit the wall. Hard. I sat down on a pile of rocks, gasping. The guide came over. “You okay?” I shook my head. “I can’t.” He pointed up. “Look.” I looked. The stars were still out, but the horizon was turning a deep purple. The silhouette of Kailash was looming over us like a judgmental god. “Just ten more steps,” he said. “Then you can rest.”

So I did ten steps. Then ten more. Then one hundred. Eventually, the slope leveled out. I saw colorful prayer flags fluttering violently in the wind. The summit of the pass. 5,630m.

I started crying again, but this time it wasn’t from fear. It was relief. It was pure, unadulterated joy. I had made it. I screamed (or tried to, the wind swallowed it). I hugged a stranger. I threw a piece of my hair (an offering) into the air. I felt like I could do anything. The feeling of completing the hardest part of the Kailash Trek is indescribable.

The descent on the other side is steep and gravelly. It’s hard on the knees, but the views of the valley below are spectacular. We passed a turquoise lake, Gauri Kund, which is frozen for most of the year. It is stunningly beautiful. By the time we reached the camp at Zutulpuk, I was exhausted. My feet were blistered. My nose was sunburned. I was the happiest I have ever been.

Day 6: The Final Stretch and the Return

The last day is a walk of about 15km. It’s mostly flat. My body had found a rhythm now. I wasn’t thinking about the pain anymore. I was just walking. Walking through the canyon, listening to the river, looking back at the mountain that had dominated my life for the last few days.

We finished the loop back at Darchen. There was a group of Tibetan pilgrims finishing at the same time. They were chanting, spinning prayer wheels, laughing. They looked weathered, their skin leathered by the sun and wind, but their eyes were bright. I realized that for them, this isn’t a “bucket list” adventure. It’s life. It’s faith. It’s everything. I felt a bit like an intruder, a tourist playing at spirituality. But then I remembered the pain, the fear, the struggle. I earned my place there, just for a moment.

We piled into the jeep and drove away. I looked back through the rear window until the mountain disappeared behind the hills. I felt a profound sense of loss. But also a sense of completion. The Kailash Trek was done.

Essential Guide for Your Kailash Trek

If you are planning this trip, here is the stuff I wish I knew beforehand. No fluff, just the facts.

Physical Preparation

Do not underestimate this. I thought I was “okay” fitness-wise. I was wrong. Start training at least two months in advance. Focus on cardio (running, cycling) and leg strength (squats, lunges). If you can, try hiking with a weighted backpack on weekends. The altitude is the main enemy, but being physically fit helps you cope with it better. Preparing for the Kailash Trek is a serious commitment.

What to Pack

• Layers are life: It can be -10°C in the morning and 20°C in the sun. You need a thermal base layer, a fleece mid-layer, and a down jacket.
• Broken-in boots: Do not buy new boots and wear them on the trek. You will suffer. I wore mine for three months prior to the trip.
• Sun protection: The sun at 5,000 meters is nuclear. SPF 50+, lip balm with SPF, sunglasses, and a hat are non-negotiable.
• Medication: Diamox for altitude, Ibuprofen for pain, Imodium (just in case), and blister plasters.
• Water: A hydration bladder is better than bottles. You need to drink 3-4 liters a day. It’s a hassle to keep refilling bottles.

The Logistics (The Hard Part)

You cannot just rock up and hike. You need a Permit. And to get a permit, you need to be part of an organized tour or have a local agent. You also need a Tibet Travel Permit to even enter Tibet. It’s bureaucratic and annoying, but necessary. I used a local agency based in Kathmandu, but there are many in Lhasa too. This is crucial for the Kailash Trek.

Regarding the route, there are actually three trekking routes around Kailash: the outer kora (the 52km one we did), the inner kora (which is much harder and religiously sensitive), and the lake Manasarovar trek. For a first-timer, stick to the outer kora. It’s the classic.

“The mountain is not just a rock. It is a presence. It demands respect, and it gives back peace in return.”

Reflections on the “Echo Chamber”

I have to admit, before I went, I was deep in the “Instagram echo chamber.” I saw all these perfect photos of people looking effortlessly cool on the mountain. I thought it would be a glamorous adventure. It wasn’t. It was gritty. It was ugly crying. It was chapped lips and unwashed hair.

But that’s the thing about travel influencers. They rarely show the breakdowns. They don’t show you sitting in the dirt, questioning your life choices because your knees hurt so bad you want to scream. I want to be honest with you. If you go, you will probably have a moment where you hate it. You will regret it. But if you push through that moment, you find something on the other side that a picture can never capture. The Kailash Trek is not about Instagram.

I also had a bit of “confirmation bias” going in. I wanted to prove to myself that I was “tough.” So I ignored the warnings about how hard it would be. I focused only on the stories of people who said it was “easy.” Don’t do that. Be prepared for the worst, hope for the best.

Cost Breakdown (Real Talk)

Money is always a factor. Here is what I spent roughly in USD (prices can vary, this was in 2024).

Item	Cost (Approx)
Flight to Lhasa (return)	$600 – $1000
Agency (Permits + Guide + Transport)	$800 – $1200
Yak rental (optional but recommended)	$50 – $80
Food & Water on trek	$50
Gear (Clothing, Boots, etc)	$300 – $500 (one time investment)
Total	~$2000

It’s not cheap, but for a trip of a lifetime, I think it’s worth every penny. You are paying for safety and access to one of the most remote places on earth. The investment in the Kailash Trek is an investment in yourself.

Final Thoughts: Why You Should Do It

I am back home now. I am sitting in my comfortable apartment, drinking coffee from a clean mug. Sometimes, when the city noise gets too loud, I close my eyes and I am back there. I can feel the crunch of the gravel under my boots. I can feel the biting wind on my cheeks. I can see the jagged peak of Kailash against the impossible blue sky.

Did it solve all my problems? No. I still have bills to pay. I still get stressed about work. But something shifted. The problems seem smaller now. The world feels bigger, but my place in it feels more secure. I proved to myself that I am capable of more than I thought. The Kailash Trek proved that to me.

If you are reading this, and you have that little voice in the back of your head whispering “what if?”, listen to it. Start planning. Start saving. Start training. The Kailash Trek is waiting. It’s not easy. It’s not comfortable. But it is, without a doubt, the most unforgettable thing I have ever done.

I’m already planning my next trip. Maybe Wutai Mountain next year? Or maybe I’ll go back to the Himalayas. Who knows. But I know I won’t be sitting on the couch anymore. The mountain woke me up. And I hope, after reading this, it wakes you up too.

Good luck. Stay safe. And breathe.

Useful Resources:

• For train tickets to Lhasa, check China Railway.
• For navigation in remote areas, download Amap offline maps before you go.
• If you need to buy last-minute hiking gear, JD.com delivers surprisingly fast to major cities.

References for further reading:

• Qinghai Hermit Retreat Guide
• Footprints in Fujian: 7-Day Hiking Odyssey
• Guizhou Trekking Adventure