Hi, I’m Chhavi, and this is my story about the unforgettable trek I did with my father to Dodital in December 2025. I’m writing this for my mother, so she can live through our adventure (and probably panic a little).
Departure Chaos and Train Drama 🚆
We left home on 16th December 2025, full of excitement (and slightly unrealistic expectations). First, we took the metro and then headed to Anand Vihar Railway Station to catch the Vande Bharat Express.
Narrator’s note: The train looked shiny and fast… until we realized the doors were locked because they were still cleaning. A perfect metaphor for life, shiny on the outside, slow on the inside.
After a few hours of waiting, we finally boarded. First stop: Haridwar. I tried to read a book, but it didn’t work. My attention span clearly prefers music and chaos over literature.
Bus vs. Jeep: The Eternal Dilemma 🚌🛻
We reached Haridwar at night. At the local bus stand, we asked about the next bus to Uttarkashi. “7:00 a.m.,” said the person, confidently. But the Jeep situation was another story: Jeeps don’t leave until completely full, which meant we couldn’t rely on them.
Our solution? Check into a hotel and eat dinner, because apparently, that fixes everything. Dinner was paneer, roti, and rasgullas (I had one, my father had one… we are health-conscious like that). I slept on the bed, my father on the floor, and I kept the blanket all to myself.
Narrator’s note: Yes, I am guilty. Fatherly forgiveness is apparently infinite.
The Ancient Bus to Uttarkashi 🚌💀
Next morning, we woke at 6:00 a.m. and took a pickup to the bus stand. The bus waiting for us was ancient, possibly older than my grandfather.
Once it started moving, the hilly terrain turned the ride into a rollercoaster of terror. Every sharp turn had me clutching the seat, thinking: This is it. This is how I die, falling into a bus aisle at 6 a.m.
By 2:00 p.m., we reached Uttarkashi, walked to our hotel, checked in, had lunch, and I tried to read while my father went for a stroll. Evening: tea, local market exploration, dinner, repeat.
Enter Tanu: Partner in Crime ☕🫂
The next day, my father’s friend brought along Tanu, a girl joining our trek. We clicked instantly, hours of chatting, laughing, and planning mischief followed.
Later, we went shopping for socks and snacks (she insisted, I reluctantly complied), tried to watch a Hindi movie that made zero sense, had dinner, and survived another night in the freezing cold sleeping bag.
Narrator’s note: Sharing one blanket in freezing mountains = guaranteed colds and grudges.
Jeep Ride to the Trek: Squeezed Like Sardines 🚙
The Jeep ride to our trekking start point was packed and long. I was squeezed between Tanu, our guide, and the cook. It felt like a never-ending episode of a survival show, but eventually, we arrived.
We unloaded gear onto mules and began the trek. Tea breaks and laughter kept us going, but the cold river near Dewaria was pure torture. Even dipping my feet felt like a near-death experience.
Dodital Lake: Cold, Frozen, Magical ❄️🏔️
After climbing for hours, we reached Dodital Lake. The frozen lake was breathtaking. I collapsed on a mat, refusing to move until I had Maggi and tea. After gathering strength, I explored the lake with Tanu.
At one point, I slipped on ice wearing crocs (bad idea, don’t try this at home). I barely saved myself by grabbing a branch. Tanu came to help, and we were temporarily stranded. Narrator’s note: Dodital: 1, Chhavi: 0
The Handkerchief Saga 🧣
Remember the branch I grabbed? I lost my handkerchief there. On our way back down, we returned to that icy spot. Tanu braved the ice to retrieve her clutch, and I used a trekking pole to recover my lost handkerchief. Victory at last!
Downhill Chaos and Final Days 🥾
Descending was tricky. My sport shoes were no match for the narrow, steep trails. I survived by sheer luck and Tanu’s moral support.
After more tea, fireplace talks, dinner, and hours of storytelling, we finally left for Uttarkashi, then Haridwar, and finally home at 10:00 p.m.
Narrator’s note: I survived Jeeps, buses, icy rivers, freezing nights, and trekking chaos. If that doesn’t make me a hero, I don’t know what does.
Lessons Learned
Pack proper trekking shoes. Crocs are for the beach, not frozen rivers.
Ice is beautiful… until it tries to kill you.
Jeeps are tiny, buses are terrifying, but memories are priceless.
Sharing a blanket in freezing mountains is optional, but dangerous.
Dodital was freezing, exhausting, funny, terrifying, and magical. From lost handkerchiefs to slipping on ice, every moment is etched in my memory forever. And Tanu? She turned an already incredible trip into something legendary.
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PPS. I wrote this post with ChatGPT
