Trekking to Mount Jomolhari

As public holidays for Losar and the King’s Birthday were coming up, I decided to use the time to go on a trek. I joined a five-day journey with Himalayan Unique Travels to the base camp of Mount Jomolhari, the second-highest mountain in Bhutan at 7,326 meters. Jomolhari means “Goddess Mountain,” believed to be the abode of a protective female deity. Before mountaineering above 6,000 meters was prohibited in 2003, there were a few attempts to reach the summit, but none succeeded.

We began on 18 February in Shana with our small crew: a guide, cook, assistant, horseman with one mule and five horses, and me. The animals carried our luggage, food, and tents while we hiked along the Paro River through forests draped in moss and lichens. About thirty minutes before reaching camp, we caught our first glimpse of Jomolhari—its snow-covered peak rising magnificently in the distance. After 21 kilometers, we arrived at Thangthangkha Camp (3,594 m).

Dinner that evening exceeded all expectations: vegetable soup, red rice, fried beef with broccoli, ema datshi, eggplant datshi, and an apple for dessert—more delicious than many restaurant meals in town. Afterward, I introduced UNO to the crew. Four of us played for over an hour, laughing and enjoying the simple joy of being together.

The next day we climbed to Jomolhari Base Camp at 4,100 meters, leaving the trees behind. Along the way we saw many yaks and were invited into the home of a yak-herding family. At base camp, we lunched with a direct view of the mountain. Later, hiking further up the valley to about 4,300 meters, I felt as if I could almost touch the peak—yet it still towered more than 3,000 meters above us. The scale felt unreal.

Evenings were filled with delicious meals—once even momos—UNO games, and shared laughter. The night sky was breathtaking: no artificial light, countless stars. But at –15°C, I couldn’t stay outside long and was always grateful for my sleeping bag.

On day three, I woke early to watch sunrise gild Jomolhari in gold. After breakfast, we hiked to Bongteyla Pass (4,900 m), passing twin lakes that reminded me of Switzerland—the first lakes I had seen in Bhutan. We spotted wild blue sheep near the pass, though no snow leopard appeared. The final ascent left me breathless but without altitude sickness. The wind and cold on the pass were intense, yet I loved it.

The following day we descended 28 kilometers back the way we had come. Snow began to fall, filling me with childlike joy—it hadn’t snowed in Thimphu all winter. While my Achilles tendons began to ache from the long descent and cold, the beauty of the snowfall distracted me. That evening, the crew lit a bonfire, and for once we felt truly warm.

On the final morning, we returned to Shana and said our goodbyes. Though we had shared only five days, the adventure created a strong bond. We even decided to form an UNO group and meet again at my place to stay in touch.

Being out in nature like this fills me with peace, energy, and gratitude. I felt deeply alive, constantly in awe of nature’s magnificence and raw power. Traveling with such a caring team made all the difference. I am truly thankful for this experience—and I hope it won’t be my last trek in Bhutan.