On March 7, 2026, I joined an online hiking group for a hike to Phulchowki Hill. Since I didn't know anyone in the group, I convinced my mom to come along. I thought it would be a fun mother-daughter bonding day.
Little did we know, the adventure would begin long before we reached the trail. Before leaving, I asked in the group chat how to get to Godawari Bus Park. "Just catch a bus from Ratna Park," everyone said.
Easy?
Not even close.
Ratna Park sent us to RNAC. RNAC sent us to Jawalakhel. Jawalakhel finally sent us to Godawari. After changing three buses, walking around asking strangers for directions, and getting hungrier by the minute, we somehow made it to the meeting point.
We quickly grabbed some chana anda, apologized for being late, and joined the group. By then, I was convinced we'd already finished the warm-up hike.
The trail was rated moderate to hard, so naturally everyone was more worried about my mom than the actual hike.
"Will she be okay?"
"Can she manage?"
I just smiled. If they knew my mom, they wouldn't have asked.
It didn't take long for the trail to answer for me.
While some people stopped every few minutes to catch their breath, my mom kept a steady pace. Meanwhile, I was the one gasping for air, questioning every life decision that had brought me to Phulchowki.
She wasn't even sweating. She was admiring the rhododendron forest, chatting with everyone, teasing the group, and even giving hiking tips.
At one point, I realized I was trying to keep up with her, not the other way around.
Since we had to keep waiting for slower hikers, we decided to take our time too. We stopped for photos, enjoyed the scenery, and let everyone catch up.
Soon, our group of 19 had naturally split into three groups, the experienced hikers in front, us somewhere in the middle, and the first-time hikers bringing up the rear.
By the time we reached the summit around 2:45 p.m., the fastest hikers had already finished lunch and started descending.
We waited for a few friends we'd made on the trail, quickly ate the lunch we'd packed from home, and decided to head back immediately. We still had to travel all the way back to Budhanilkantha, so we couldn't afford to be any later.
One of the guys from our group, Labu Dai, joined us because he also wanted to get home early. And that's when the real adventure began.
Since my mom seemed to know the way better than either of us, we happily let her lead.
Big mistake.
After walking for a while, she confidently pointed into a patch of bushes.
"This looks like a shortcut."
Spoiler alert...
It wasn't.
Within minutes we had completely lost the trail.
We could actually see the road below us but there was no way to reach it. We climbed sideways through bushes until we finally found a spot where we could safely jump down. Somehow, all three of us made it without breaking any bones.
I thought we'd learned our lesson.
Apparently not.
A little later my mom spotted another shortcut.
This one was a ridiculously steep slope.
I slipped...
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Meanwhile, my mom casually walked down like she was on a fashion runway.
At that point, I genuinely started wondering if this woman was actually my mother or if she'd secretly transformed into a mountain goat.
By now it was getting dark.
Then darker.
Then completely pitch black.
There wasn't another soul around us. No hikers. No voices. Just insects, trees, and the three of us.
To make things even more exciting, my phone had died, Labu Dai's phone had also died, and my mom can barely see in the dark.
If you think that was the worst part...
It wasn't.
For some reason, we started talking about ghosts.
Then my mom casually mentioned that there had been a leopard attack on this very trail just a few days earlier.
Excuse me...
WHAT?!
"You knew there had been a leopard attack... and you still brought your only daughter here?"
At that point, ghosts suddenly didn't seem so scary anymore.
Labu Dai and I looked at each other and decided wandering blindly through the forest wasn't our best plan. So we stopped and waited for the last hiking group. While waiting, we joked about every terrible thing that could possibly happen to us. Looking back, I think we were laughing simply because the alternative was panicking.
Then we heard voices.
I have never been happier to hear strangers.
Once the last group caught up, we continued down together and finally reached the bottom at around 9:00 p.m.
Adventure over?
Not yet.
There wasn't a single bus or public vehicle waiting. Everyone with private transportation had already left, and the locals simply walked home.
Unfortunately, home for us was Budhanilkantha.
My phone was dead, so Pathao and inDrive weren't an option. My mom's phone didn't even have the apps installed, and we had no internet or balance to download them.
For a few minutes, the three of us just stood there wondering what to do next.
Thankfully, one of the girls in our group booked an inDrive. She kindly offered to drop us halfway to a place where it would be easier to find a taxi. Labu Dai got even luckier—our group leader gave him a ride all the way home.
My mom and I eventually found a taxi and finally made it back to Budhanilkantha, exhausted but safe.
Looking back, the day had everything 3 buses, endless uphill climbs, fake shortcuts, getting lost, dead phones, ghost stories, leopard panic, hiking through complete darkness, and somehow still making it home.
Would I hike Phulchowki again?
Absolutely.
But next time, I'll carry a fully charged power bank, download offline maps... and respectfully decline any shortcuts suggested by my mom.
Because some adventures become the best stories and this is definitely one I'll never forget.
