You’ve already heard how I got started with the Manaslu Circuit last year in Trekking in Nepal #2, but now let’s dive into some practical takeaways from this eight-day adventure.

Sure, I could go on about how it changed my life and mindset (which it did) or how I’ll cherish those memories forever (which I will). But today, I want to focus on something a little more unexpected and helpful.

Always pack extra plastic bags on your next thru-hike because it could turn snowy very quickly.

For all the cozy nights spent playing cards after a hearty meal, the trail conversations that deepened connections, and the shared words of encouragement after tough uphill slogs, I deeply appreciated my hiking group: Nino, Théo, Miloš, and Sanjeev. But for their simple yet genius snow survival hack of using extra plastic bags over their socks, I admired them.

This might seem like a common trick, but as someone from the desert of Arizona, where the biggest dangers are severe dehydration and sunburn, I had never thru-hiked in snow before.

The Manaslu Circuit, as the name suggests, is a loop around Mount Manaslu, not a path to the summit. But don’t be fooled—this is no quick stroll around a mountain. These are the Himalayas. The goal? To conquer the Larke Pass at 5,106 meters (16,752 ft), a full 685 meters (2,247 feet) higher than Mount Whitney, the tallest peak in the continental U.S.

Snow Warnings

The foreshadowing of snow came on day 5, our "fun day" when we could leave most of our gear behind at the teahouse and hike to Manaslu Base Camp. Théo, the fastest in our group, was the only one to make it to MBC. But within 15 minutes, as the rest of us continued our steady pace, the snow started to fall—fast. Fatigued from the altitude and sensing the coming storm, we decided to head back and warm up at the teahouse.

The snow didn’t stop that day. By nightfall, a thick blanket of snow had formed, covering our trail.

Into the Snowstorm

The next morning (Day 6) began lightheartedly. Coming from the desert, I found the snow almost magical—its crisp, cold air and crunchy texture made the scenery feel fresh and exciting. But as the day wore on, concern started to set in. We were meant to reach Dharmashala, a much higher point in the mountains, likely buried even deeper in snow.

I was the only one in the group wearing “hiking boots,” though mine weren’t waterproof, so they weren’t much help. The others wore trail runners. We expected no snow at all for the trip—good weather had been on the radar. But the Himalayas remind you quickly that Mother Nature is in charge.

After some deliberation, we pressed on, trekking through the lightly falling snow, which piled on top of the previous day's accumulation, until we arrived at Dharmashala. Unlike the small mountain villages we had stayed in before, Dharmashala was more of a large campsite with tiny shelters and tents clustered together. The one small dining hall worked hard to squeeze all the hikers inside—an efficient way to conserve heat.

Snow, and More Snow

The snow kept falling.

Trying not to dwell on the growing problem outside, I gulped down warm food and tea, occasionally glancing out the window at the relentless snowfall.

Four of us crammed together on one long mattress inside a tiny shelter, while Sanjeev slept in the dining hall, as guides commonly do. With all my layers of clothing, a healthy layer of dirt, and my thick sleeping bag, I managed to sleep through the cold night until our 3:30 a.m. wake-up call.

Day 7: Larke Pass

Clear skies greeted us on Day 7—perfect for our long-awaited trek across Larke Pass.

This is when I learned my biggest lesson: always bring plastic bags on a snowy thru-hike.

I watched as the guys layered up—first socks, then plastic bags, then their shoes. This simple hack turned their trail runners into makeshift waterproof shoes. I quickly grabbed some extra plastic and copied them before we set off just before 5 a.m.

The snow was calf-deep at first, and while we risked wet feet, the freezing temperatures kept the snow firm.

Yak Trax, small metal spikes for traction, also proved invaluable on the ice. If you're looking to save weight, I'd recommend sharing a pair between two people—you usually only need one pair.

The pass was tough for me. Fatigued by the altitude and slowed further by my frozen CamelBak tube (rookie mistake), I had to stop every time I wanted a sip of water, which ultimately made me drink less than I should have.

After hours of slow progress, I was the last of our group to reach the top. I cried for three reasons:

1. The overwhelming beauty of the mountains made my heart burst—I was living my dream.

2. My fingers ached from the cold, even with three pairs of gloves.

3. I was proud and relieved to have made it—I crossed Larke Pass!

Reflections on Strength

Though I was exhausted, the descent filled me with a mix of emotions. I couldn’t shake the thought that I had struggled more than anyone else in my group.

We often talked about how Théo was the fastest, or how Nino moved with nimble speed, or how Miloš took long, powerful strides. But I was often the caboose.

The next day, one of them turned to me and said, “You know, you’re really strong to keep up like you did.”

It’s easy to be hard on yourself.

In that moment, I remembered a quote I wrote and taped to my mirror before my three-week thru-hike on the JMT in California three years ago:

“You are stronger than you think.”

It was true. I had hiked seven days to reach this height, an altitude I had never experienced before. I came from the desert, expecting no snow, yet I adapted to the cold. And I kept pace with some of the strongest hikers I know.

I admire my group, and it was touching that they admired me, too. My time on the Manaslu Circuit was tough and rewarding, but it was even more meaningful because I shared it with good friends.

I learned a lot from them. And now, more practically, I’ll never forget to bring plastic bags on a thru-hike.