Chasing Sunrise: Midnight Ride to Chanshal Pass

They say some journeys are best taken when the world sleeps — and that’s exactly what I did.

I set off from Shimla at 11 PM, with just a backpack, a flask of coffee, and my cousin for company. Our plan? To catch the sunrise from the majestic Chanshal Peak. It was one of those impulsive ideas born out of wanderlust — the kind that turns into unforgettable memories.

The drive from Shimla to Chanshal Pass takes around 5 hours, and trust me, it’s not for the faint-hearted. The roads get narrower and bumpier after Rohru, but the excitement of what lay ahead kept us wide awake through the night. The silence of the hills, the chill in the air, and the headlights cutting through the darkness made the entire ride feel like something out of a movie.

As we crossed Rohru, Pabbar river started flowing right beside us. It stayed with us all the way to Chirgaon, making soft, peaceful sounds in the quiet night. The moonlight was falling on the water, and it looked beautiful. That sound of the flowing river felt like music — calm and comforting during our late-night drive.

But after Chirgaon, the road started going uphill. We were slowly climbing towards Chanshal Pass. The river was now behind us, and the air was getting colder. The road became narrow and twisty, and there were barely any other vehicles. Everything around us was silent — only the wind and our headlights leading the way.

The gentle curves turned into steep ascents. We began our climb toward Chanshal Pass, and the temperature dipped sharply. The river faded into the background, and in its place came pine-scented winds, misty turns, and the occasional startled fox darting across the path.

The silence grew heavier the higher we went. With each hairpin bend, the anticipation grew — and finally, around 4 in the morning, we made it. Chanshal Pass. The stars were still out, the world asleep, and we were there — two travelers, waiting for the sun to rise above one of Himachal’s best-kept secrets.

We only had a sweater over a t-shirt, so the cold hit us hard the moment we turned off the car. The temperature at Chanshal that early in the morning was freezing. Even though we were excited to see the sunrise, we were shivering the minute we opened the window a little.

So we made a deal — we’ll step out only when the sun is fully out and warming up the place. Until then, we stayed inside the car, trying to catch some sleep while watching the sky slowly change colors.

It was hard to sleep properly, but the silence, the view outside, and the thought of watching sunrise from such a high place made it all worth it. Mountains around us felt calm and still — like they were waiting for something special to happen.

But to our bad luck, we dozed off completely. The plan was to stay half-awake and jump out of the car as soon as the first rays appeared. But our tired bodies had other ideas.

Missed the Sunrise, But Not the Moment

We woke up around 7 AM, with the sun shining straight into our faces through the windshield. I opened my eyes, squinting, and realized… we had missed the magical sunrise we came all this way for!

We looked at each other, half-sleepy, half-laughing, and completely frozen. The car had turned into a mini-freezer overnight. But hey — at least the sky was clear, and the views were still breathtaking.

The mountains were glowing in golden light, the wind was strong but fresh, and there wasn’t a single soul around. Even though we missed the sunrise, just being up there, surrounded by raw nature, made it all worth it.

The Sudden Plan to Find Saru Lake

After warming up a little inside the car, we freshened up and stepped out to finally enjoy the morning views. The sunlight made the entire place glow — snow patches on the slopes, chilly wind brushing against our faces, and complete silence all around.

That’s when I remembered something — a friend had once mentioned a place called Saru Lake. I had no idea where it was or how to reach it. Just the name had stuck in my mind.

So, with nothing else planned, we thought — why not go find it?

We walked over to a small pickup stall nearby where a couple of locals were serving hot tea and Maggi (which felt like a 5-star meal in that cold). While sipping tea and slurping on that life-saving Maggi, we asked the stall owner about Saru Lake.

He said, “It’s around 4 km from here. A bit of a climb, but the lake is beautiful and peaceful.”

And that was it. That one line was enough to convince us. Shoes tied tight — we decided to go for it.

Before starting the trek, we grabbed some quick snacks from the stall — Kurkure, chips, namkeen, and a couple of cold drinks. Nothing fancy, just the usual “desi travel fuel.” But before leaving, we made a promise to ourselves — no littering. Whatever we carried up, we’d bring back down.

With that in mind, we zipped up our jackets, packed our little picnic in the bag, and set off towards Saru Lake.

The “4 km” Mystery: No Trail, No Network, Just Gut Feeling

The trail wasn’t marked clearly, but the locals had pointed us in the right direction. The path started with soft meadows and patches of stones, slowly turning steeper as we moved up. The cold breeze, mixed with the warm sunlight, made the weather perfect for a hike.

There were no crowds, no network, no distractions — just the two of us, the sound of crunching footsteps, and the endless views of the mountains around.

As we started walking, we quickly realized something — this was not a 4 km trek. Maybe 4 km as the crow flies, but on foot, with all the climbing and guessing? Definitely more.

There was no marked trail, and soon, we found ourselves completely alone. No people, no signs — just a few horses grazing quietly and a distant herd of sheep, their occasional baaa echoing through the empty valley. It felt peaceful but also a little spooky at times.

We tried using Google Maps, hoping for some help — but of course, no network. So, we switched to satellite view and started guessing our location and where the lake could be. Let’s just say, it was more like a real-life treasure hunt than a trek.

My cousin, who was all pumped up earlier, was now slowly losing it.

“Tu kahan le aaya bhai…”
was his favorite line on repeat.

We stopped to rest, munched on some chips, and kept walking — half trusting the map, half trusting the mountain.

We did spot a few shepherds far in the distance, and for a second, we thought about walking over and asking them the way. But then we saw their dogs — big, tough-looking mountain dogs staring right at us like we didn’t belong there.

Needless to say, we didn’t gather the courage to go near them. We just waved awkwardly from a distance and quietly took a detour to avoid any “friendly chase.” 😅

Those dogs weren’t barking, but their body language said, “One step closer, and we’ll show you why we’re here.” So yeah, we skipped the idea of asking directions and continued guessing our way using satellite view and the position of the sun like some modern-day mountain explorers.

By this point, we were tired, slightly confused, and laughing at ourselves — but we were still determined to find the lake.

A Glimpse of Magic: Saru Lake Finally Shows Up

After nearly 4 hours of walking, slipping, guessing, and second-guessing, we were completely drained. The sun was now high, our snacks were almost gone, and our legs had started to protest with every step. We looked at each other and thought — “Maybe this isn’t our day.”

Just as we were about to call it quits and turn back, something caught our eye.

Far off, on the next mountain slope, we saw something shining under the sun. At first, we thought it was just a patch of ice or snow — but then we looked closely.

It was water. Still, bright, and glowing like glass.
Saru Lake.

In that moment, all the tiredness, confusion, and failed GPS attempts felt worth it. We stood there for a minute, quietly taking in the view, too stunned to even speak. It was like the mountains waited for us to reach the edge of giving up — and then showed us the reward.

Josh Reloaded: The Final Push to Saru Lake

The moment we realized it was Saru Lake shining in the distance, something inside us just clicked. All the tiredness vanished like magic. That little sparkle of water gave us a full recharge of josh.

We were back on our feet, walking faster, almost jogging — slipping, laughing, and shouting things like:

“Bhai bas pahunch gaye!”
“Yahi toh tha mission!”

The path was still uneven and rocky, but now we didn’t care. We were too excited to finally reach the lake we had only heard about, guessed about, and hunted for hours.

With every step, the lake got clearer and bigger — surrounded by green slopes, wild silence, and no one else in sight.

It was like we had stumbled upon a hidden world, untouched and perfect.

Finally There: A Lake Out of a Wallpaper

When we finally reached Saru Lake, it felt like stepping into a dream.

In front of us was a beautiful, serene lake — its water so still, it looked like a mirror. The entire setting was like a wallpaper — mountains all around, green patches hugging the lake, and the sky perfectly reflected on the surface.

And the best part? Not a single soul around. Just the two of us. No noise, no distractions — only the sound of the wind and our quiet footsteps on the grass.

We sat down right in front of the lake, letting the cool breeze hit our faces. The water didn’t move much — only now and then, a small wave would appear, gently rippling across the surface with the wind.

Time slowed down. We didn’t speak much — just sat there, soaking in the silence, the beauty, and the feeling of being somewhere truly untouched.

It was one of those rare moments that you know you’ll remember forever.

A Peaceful Goodbye

After sitting there for a while, we took out our phones and clicked a few pictures — not too many, just enough to hold on to the memory. The beauty of Saru Lake felt too pure to be over-photographed.

Before leaving, we decided to do something that comes naturally to anyone from the hills — we took a full round of the lake, slowly walking around it as a gesture of respect to nature. No words were spoken, just quiet steps and grateful hearts.

It was our simple way of saying thank you — to the mountains, the silence, and the lake that made all our effort worth it.

But soon, reality knocked.

We had to walk back 7–8 km, all the way to where we started. And from there, somehow make it back to Shimla because the next day was, well… a working day.

So with one last look at the lake, we packed up, stretched our legs, and began the long walk back — tired, but full of memories.

The Return Was Different

What surprised us the most was how our body language had completely changed on the way back.

When we were climbing up, we were dragging our feet, unsure, and half-lost. But after seeing Saru Lake, something shifted. It was like the mountains had filled us with a different kind of energy.

We weren’t tired anymore — in fact, we were sort of jogging back, jumping over rocks, laughing, and pointing at things we didn’t even notice while going up.

It’s funny how a moment of peace or beauty can refill your mind and body like nothing else. The lake gave us that.

On our way back, just when we were a little down the trail, we saw a small group of people walking towards the lake. They looked calm, relaxed, and clearly not in a rush.

We didn’t ask, but something told us — they were locals.

You know how it is with us pahadis — we just have a way of sensing our own. It’s in the way someone walks on a rocky path, the rhythm of their voice, the comfort with silence. There’s a kind of unspoken connection — like an invisible thread that ties all mountain folk together.

I think they were just out for a peaceful outing, maybe a day by the lake — no phones, no stress, just fresh air and open skies.

Watching them from a distance made me smile. It felt good to know that while Saru Lake is hidden from the world, some people still visit it not to explore, but just to be with it.

Back at Chanshal Pass: A Bit More Alive This Time

After around three hours of walking , we finally made it back to Chanshal Pass.

But this time, it looked completely different from the silent, freezing morning we had experienced earlier. The place was full of tourists, some clicking photos, others just sitting and enjoying the views. There was even an HRTC bus parked right at the top, with people getting out to stretch and take in the scenery.

Seeing that bus actually felt a little strange — like we had stepped out of a quiet dream and back into reality.

Before starting our return drive to Shimla, we decided to grab a quick bite. The same pickup stall from the morning was now buzzing with people. We sat on the edge of the slope, and looked back once more in the direction of Saru Lake.

It felt good. Tired, dusty, and a bit sunburnt — but deeply satisfied.

Before leaving, we sat down for one final meal at the stall.

My cousin went for a hot plate of Maggi, while I chose something more filling — dal chawal. After hours of trekking and walking in the sun, even this simple food felt like a feast. We didn’t talk much, just ate quietly, soaking in the last bit of fresh air and mountain silence.

With our bellies full and hearts even fuller, we got into the car and set off for home.

Final Thoughts: More Than Just a Trek

This trip wasn’t planned in detail. We didn’t have proper gear or even full information. But sometimes, that’s what makes a journey truly memorable.

We missed the sunrise, got half-lost, and had no clear trail, yet we found something far better — an untouched lake, moments of silence, and a peaceful connection with nature.

If you’re someone who loves going off the grid, chasing quiet places, and getting a little lost on purpose — Saru Lake and Chanshal Pass are waiting for you.

🗺️ Travel Tips for Chanshal Pass & Saru Lake

• Best Time to Visit: May to October (avoid monsoon and heavy snow seasons)
• How to Reach: Drive from Shimla to Rohru → Chirgaon → Chanshal Pass (around 5–6 hours)
• Stay: Stay at Rohru or carry your own camping gear (no stay at Chanshal top)
• Food: Limited stalls near the pass — Maggi, tea, dal chawal. Carry your own snacks too.
• Mobile Network: No signal after Chirgaon. Download offline maps or use satellite view.
• Saru Lake Trek: Around 7–8 km trip. No proper trail — ask locals for direction.
• Important: Carry warm clothes, enough water, and do not litter. Let’s keep the place clean and beautiful.

If you enjoyed reading about our offbeat adventure to Chanshal Pass and Saru Lake, you might also like My Trip to Bijli Mahadev — another magical journey, this time with thunder, temples, and a view that will leave you speechless.