I wasn’t always this confident on the mountains.
In fact, if you met me a few years ago, you’d probably describe me as quiet, cautious, and a little unsure of myself. Trekking wasn’t something I imagined would become such a big part of my life let alone something that would change how I see myself.
But the Sahyadris have a way of doing that.
They don’t shout.
They don’t push.
They quietly reshape you.
My First Few Treks Were About Fear, Not Fitness
When I first started trekking, strength wasn’t my biggest challenge. Fear was.
Fear of slipping.
Fear of heights.
Fear of not being good enough.
Every narrow trail made me slow down. Every steep rock face made me doubt myself. I would constantly check my footing, my grip, and everything around me—sometimes too much.
But with every trek, something shifted.
The Mountains Made Me Safer, Not Reckless
One thing the Sahyadris taught me early on is this: being brave doesn’t mean being careless.
You learn to respect the mountain.
You learn to prepare better.
You learn to trust your gear.
Safety becomes a habit.
From proper shoes to a well-fitted backpack—and yes, even sunglasses—everything plays a role. On exposed climbs and forest trails, clear vision matters more than people realize. Harsh sunlight filtering through trees, sudden glare on rocks, wind, dust—it all affects focus.
That’s when I started wearing Opticsfit sunglasses on my treks. Not for style, but because they stayed in place, protected my eyes, and didn’t distract me. When you stop worrying about small discomforts, you move more confidently.
Strength Builds Quietly
The change didn’t happen overnight.
It happened one step at a time.
One climb at a time.
One moment of choosing to continue instead of turning back.
The Sahyadris didn’t make me fearless. They made me aware.
Aware of my body.
Aware of my limits.
Aware of how capable I actually am.
And that awareness turned into strength.
Being a Woman on the Trail Changed Me
As a woman, trekking in the Sahyadris gave me something deeply personal—confidence in my own decisions.
Out there, no one carries you.
No one walks for you.
You rely on yourself.
Each successful trek made me feel stronger, calmer, and more grounded. I started trusting myself more—not just on the mountain, but in everyday life too.
What I Carry Back from the Mountains
When a trek ends, I don’t just carry memories or photos.
I carry patience.
I carry courage.
I carry clarity.
My Insta - @Janhavinarke