By Michal Lenden

Let me start by saying this: if you ever feel like your life is too easy, just go trekking in Nepal. Better yet, drag your friends along so they can suffer with you.

That’s exactly what I did.

I, Michal Lenden (a person who once thought "walking uphill for days sounds fun"), convinced my equally delusional friends—Mille, Ben, and Thomas—to join me on the GosikundaTrek. Spoiler: We lived. But not without trauma.

The Beginning: False Confidence and Jeeps That Hate You

Our journey started in Kathmandu, where we naively piled into a jeep bound for Dhunche. Seven hours. Seven. Hours. Of what can only be described as a mechanical bull ride disguised as a road. At one point, I was airborne, and not in a fun way. Mille, ever the optimist, cheerfully announced, "This is character-building!" while Ben white-knuckled the seat and Thomas, the human golden retriever of our group, grinned like this was the best day of his life.

By the time we reached Dhunche, my spine had more twists than a pretzel. But hey, at least the hotel had beds. Sort of.

The Trek: Where "Uphill" Became a Four-Letter Word

The next morning, fueled by questionable tea and sheer willpower, we started walking. And by walking, I mean climbing. Relentlessly.Within minutes, my lungs staged a protest. "We didn’t sign up for this!" they wheezed. Thomas, of course, bounded ahead like a mountain goat on espresso, leaving the rest of us to question our life choices. Mille kept saying, "It’s not that bad!" while visibly dying inside. Ben distracted himself by taking approximately 4,000 photos of the same mountain.At some point, I turned to Ben and gasped, "Remind me why we’re doing this?" He paused, considered, then said, "Instagram." Fair.

Altitude: Nature’s Way of Humiliating You

As we climbed higher, the air got thinner, and my dignity evaporated. Every step felt like wading through syrup while wearing a backpack full of bricks. At one point, I genuinely considered crawling. Then, finally—finally—we saw it. Gosaikunda Lake. Glittering. Serene. Mocking us with its beauty. We collapsed by the shore, a pathetic heap of exhaustion and accomplishment. Mille tried to meditate but gave up because "the ground is cold and my legs don’t work." Ben continued his photography obsession. Thomas, because he’s a monster, did push-ups. Push-ups. At 4,380 meters. I hate him.

The Descent: Knees Are Overrated Anyway

You’d think going down would be easier. You’d be wrong. My knees made noises that belonged in a horror movie. Every step was a negotiation: "If you just get me to the bottom, I swear I’ll never do this again." (This was a lie. I’ll probably do it again.) By the time we stumbled back into Dhunche, we were a mess of blisters, sweat, and questionable body odor. We celebrated with dal bhat—because nothing says "I survived" like unlimited carbs—and reflected on our shared trauma.

So… Was It Worth It?

Yes.

Would I do it again? Ask me when my legs stop screaming at me.

Gosaikunda was equal parts breathtaking and brutal—a test of friendship, endurance, and how many times you can say "I’m fine" through gritted teeth before someone calls your bluff.

To anyone thinking of doing this trek: Do it. But maybe train first. And bring chocolate. Lots of chocolate.