Shripad’s Memorable Journey to the Scenic Dayara Bugyal in Uttarakhand

On a Sunday afternoon, my grandson Param was scrolling through photos on his tablet. There were mountains, snow-covered meadows, and people covered in jackets posing beneath the trees. He paused and asked me, “Grandpa, have you ever walked on snow?”

I smiled at the simplicity of his question. “Not yet,” I said, “but I would like to.”

He looked at me with the usual mischief and wonder. “Then let us do it together.”

And just like that, the idea was born.

I am 63. Most people think that one should stay within the comforts of routine at this age. But I have always believed that the heart does not retire and still seeks stories to tell. So, we chose the Dayara Bugyal Trek in Uttarakhand, which is known for its snow-covered pastures and peaceful wilderness. Booked through Thrillophilia, the plan was laid out for 4 days in the Himalayas.

A Quiet Beginning to a Grand Adventure

We reached Dehradun early in the morning. As our car wound its way up the mountain roads towards Raithal, the air began to get cooler and cleaner. The chaos of the city disappeared slowly behind sharp bends and tall deodars. Param sat with his nose pressed to the window while he was looking at the waterfalls, goats crossing the road, and pine forests that never seemed to end.

Soon, Raithal greeted them with its simple and soul-soothing atmosphere. Our homestay overlooked terraced fields and scattered cottages. In the evening, we met our trek leaders, Ashish and Kapil Rawat. Both were young and full of mountain energy. They welcomed us with wide smiles and warm tea.

Ashish looked at me and said, “It is not often we get a grandfather and grandson duo trekking together.”

I laughed. “Well, it is my first snow trek. Let us hope I keep up.”

Kapil responded, “With this spirit, you will lead the way.”

That night, Param and I sat outside on the porch under a sky full of stars. “Are you nervous?” he asked.

“Only a little,” I replied. “But mostly, I am excited. Let us see how the world unfolds.”

The Trek to Gui Begins

Our trek to Gui began the next morning. We packed light, layered up, and set off after a healthy breakfast. The trail made its way through dense oak forests and occasional clearings where sunlight moved on the leaves. It was not steep, but just long enough to make us aware of each step.

Param walked ahead to take photos and admire the mossy trunks, the sound of unseen birds, and the occasional mountain dog that joined us for a while.

“Everything is so green and alive,” he said.

We took slow and steady strides. Sometimes, we paused to breathe it all in. About 4 hours later, the trees opened up into a large alpine meadow called Gui. Our tents were already pitched in perfect rows, and behind them appeared a curtain of snow-covered peaks.

We took a short walk in the evening to acclimatise. As the sun dipped behind the mountains, we sat by a small campfire. Other trekkers shared stories, and their laughter echoed across the valley.

The Beautiful Dayara Bugyal

The next morning was fresh and cold. Frost glittered on the grass outside our tents. After breakfast, we layered up again and began the climb to Dayara Bugyal.

The trail was quiet, hence we could only hear the crunch of snow beneath our feet and the occasional encouragement from Ashish or Kapil. The forest gradually gave way to vast and open meadows. And then, there was the Dayara Bugyal. Covered in a fresh blanket of snow, it shimmered under the morning sun.

For a moment, neither Param nor I said a word.

The vastness, stillness, and raw beauty overwhelmed the senses. It was the realisation that we were standing in a place where few people ever come. We were walking across nature’s canvas.

The final climb to Dayara Top was steep and tested my endurance. Ashish kept pace beside me. “Take your time, sir,” he said. “You are doing great.”

Param had already reached the top and was waving wildly. “Come on, Grandpa! You are almost there!”

I pushed on slowly and steadily. And then, with a final step, I stood beside him.

From the top, the entire Dodital range looked majestic, endless, and humbling. Param threw a handful of snow in the air and shouted, “We did it!”

I laughed and hugged him tightly. “Thank you,” I whispered. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

We sat there for a long time in complete silence.

The Journey Back to Raithal

That night at Gui was quiet. We lay in our tent tired and content while being wrapped in warm blankets.

“Grandpa,” Param said softly, “I will never forget this day.”

“Neither will I,” I replied. “You have given me a beautiful gift."

We began our return trek to Raithal the next morning. Going downhill was easier on the lungs but harder on the knees. The trail felt familiar now as if the forest had accepted us.

Kapil walked with me and said, “Sir, I hope when I am your age, I have this same energy.”

I smiled. “Besides energy, it is the love for life, family, and the unknown.”

Our driver was waiting back in Raithal. As we drove toward Dehradun, I looked at Param, who had fallen asleep beside me.

I turned back one last time to look at the mountains. We had left our footprints there in memory.

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