There is a moment on a big mountain when the body says stop before the mind is ready. On Kang Yatse, at thirteen years old, I found that moment near 20,000 feet — and I listened to it. Turning back was the hardest decision I have made on any mountain. It was also the right one.
Kang Yatse is a technical peak in the Markha Valley region of Ladakh, with summit targets above 6,400 metres. By the time I attempted it, I was not new to the mountains — Everest Base Camp at nine and the Chadar Trek at eleven were already behind me. But this was different. Base Camp had taken me to the foot of a giant. Kang Yatse asked me to actually climb one.
From trekker to climber
A trek and a summit climb are two different animals. On a trek you walk; on a summit attempt you gain serious height, you feel every thousand feet in your lungs, and you start very, very early — long before the sun, when the snow is still firm and the mountain is still asleep.
The days before the push were about getting my body used to the altitude — climbing a little higher each day, then coming down to sleep, letting my blood and breath catch up. Up there your body is doing extra work just to exist. The training I do back home with the barbell turned out to matter here too: strong legs, a strong back, and lungs used to working hard do not care whether the load is a deadlift or a mountain.
The push to 20,000 feet
We set out in the dark. Headlamp on, breath loud, the world shrunk down to the small circle of light at my feet and the rope ahead. On a climb like this you do not look at the summit — it is too far, and it will only frighten you. You look at the next step. And the next.
- The air gives you less. Near 20,000 feet every breath carries about half the oxygen of sea level. You move slowly, on purpose. Rushing is how you fail.
- The cold is patient. Before sunrise the wind finds every gap in your layers. You keep moving partly to keep warm.
- Your mind is the real engine. The legs will keep going far longer than the head believes. The trick is not letting the head quit first.
- The mountain decides. You can train for months, but your body and the altitude have the final word. Respecting that is part of climbing.
What turning back teaches you
Near 20,000 feet, a health issue forced me to stop. In that moment — headlamp on, the valley silver and enormous below me, the summit still above — I had to make a call. I turned back.
That decision was not a defeat. It was mountaineering. The people who have climbed the biggest peaks in the world will tell you that the mountain is still there after you leave it. The goal does not disappear. You come back stronger, smarter, and better prepared. Turning back on Kang Yatse taught me more about mountains — and about myself — than a straightforward summit would have.
The thread that ties it together
Everest Base Camp at nine. The Chadar at eleven. Kang Yatse at thirteen — 20,000 feet reached, summit not yet. And in between and around all of it — home, school, and the squats and deadlifts that earned me the name “Gujarat’s Strongest Girl.” People sometimes ask how mountaineering and powerlifting fit together. Near 20,000 feet, the answer was obvious: both are about doing one hard, honest rep at a time — and knowing when to rest so you can go again.
Kang Yatse is my highest attempt so far. The summit is still up there. And I will be back.