When I signed up for the Manaslu Expedition, I thought I had something to prove. Maybe it was to myself. Maybe it was to the people who thought I couldn’t do something this big. I had never climbed an 8,000-meter mountain before. But Manaslu, the world’s eighth highest peak at 8,163 meters, seemed like the right place to start.
They say over 2,000 climbers have reached the summit of Manaslu since the first ascent in 1956 [Himalayan Database, 2024]. Many choose it as their first 8,000-meter peak. I saw it as my chance to be strong, to test my limits and maybe get a little glory.
But what I found up there was something very different.
So Much Gear, So Many Doubts
I arrived in Kathmandu with a duffel full of gear and a head full of nerves. My guide handed me a checklist and a big smile. I faked confidence.
When we flew to the trailhead, I saw Manaslu in the distance. It looked far. And huge. I felt small. I told myself, "You signed up for this. Time to go."
The Trek to Base Camp
The trek to Manaslu Base Camp was beautiful but hard. We passed through quiet villages, crossed swinging bridges, and hiked for hours each day. I was tired but excited.
At night, I wrote in my journal: “Everyone else looks strong. I feel slow.” I smiled when I wrote it, but deep down, I was scared.
Life at Base Camp
Base camp sat below the giant white wall of Manaslu. The wind never stopped. Tents flapped. Snow came and went. I could feel the pressure building not just from the altitude, but inside me.
We trained on the ice. We climbed up and down to higher camps to acclimatize. It was cold, tough, and full of waiting. That’s the thing about big mountains: you wait a lot.
I looked around and thought, “What am I doing here?”
Letting Go on the Way Up
On the push toward Camp 3, something changed. I wasn’t the fastest. I wasn’t the strongest. My boots felt heavy. My breath was short. I started to feel like I didn’t need to prove anything anymore.
I stopped thinking about the summit.
I started noticing the quiet. The sky. The sound of my steps on the ice. The kindness of my Sherpa. The hot tea in the tent. The small wins.
That’s when I really started to enjoy it.
The Summit? That’s Not the Point.
No, I didn’t reach the summit. Bad weather hit at Camp 3. We waited, then we turned around. And you know what? I wasn’t even sad.
Because I had already gained more than I expected. I felt proud of what I had done. I felt peace I hadn’t felt in years. I let go of the need to win, and I found joy in just being there.
What I Learned from the Manaslu Expedition
- You don’t have to reach the top to grow.
- The mountain doesn’t care about your ego.
- Some days, showing up is the real achievement.
- It’s okay to be afraid and still keep moving.
Final Thoughts
The Manaslu Expedition showed me something bigger than the mountain. It showed me how to let go of pressure, fear, and the need to be perfect. I came to prove something. Instead, I left with something better: peace.
If you’re thinking about Manaslu or any big dream, just know this. It’s not always about the summit. Sometimes, the best part is the climb itself.
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