Personal Story

I grew up in a village where the mountains weren't a backdrop, they were the road. When I started 8Mountains six years ago, I was tired of seeing Nepal sold as a checklist — tick Everest, tick ABC, go home. So I built a company run entirely by local women guides, because the person who knows a trail is the person who grew up walking it.

What I love most is the quiet stuff clients don't expect. The tea-house owner in Ghandruk who still remembers my grandmother. The moment a group realises the "porter" they were worried about is actually the most experienced person on the mountain. I keep our groups small on purpose — you can't share a joke with fifteen people at once.

If you trek with me, bring layers you can actually move in, and don't be shy about stopping. The best view on the Manaslu circuit isn't the pass, it's the old man in Bihi who'll pour you raksi and tell you which peak is his. I'll translate. That's the trek I want you to remember.

Biography

I grew up in the hills of Nepal and started guiding because I wanted women to see the mountains on their own terms. 8Mountains began as a small idea — that trekking should empower the people who live near the trails, not just the people who fly in to walk them. Today I still lead treks myself and train every guide on our team.

Personal Story

People hear "Sherpa" and assume I was born at base camp. I wasn't — but I was born close enough that the rhythm of a high pass is in my bones. I've been guiding for three years, and every season I learn the mountains are not the same place twice.

What I'm good at is reading weather and people at the same time. When a client's pace drops, that's not weakness, that's altitude doing its quiet work, and I know exactly when to slow down, drink water, and let the body catch up. I carry less than most guides because I'd rather have my hands free to steady someone on a scree slope.

The part tourists miss: the monasteries aren't photo stops, they're where we ask the mountain for safe passage. I'll show you how to walk the stupa the right way. Small thing, but it changes how the whole valley feels. Trek with me and you'll leave knowing the hills like a local, not a visitor.

Biography

Born in the Shadow of Manaslu, I have walked these passes since I was a boy. I joined 8Mountains to show travellers the quiet, local side of the Himalaya — the monasteries, the yaks, the grandmothers making butter tea.

Personal Story

I've been leading treks for six years, and if there's one thing I've learned, it's that altitude doesn't care how fit you are — it cares how patient you are. I grew up in a family that ran a tea house, so I've been feeding trekkers since I was tall enough to reach the stove.

My groups eat well. That's not a brag, it's a strategy. A client who's had a proper dal bhat and a laugh at dinner sleeps better, walks stronger, and notices more the next day. On the Annapurna Base Camp trek I know exactly where the trail opens up to the first real glimpse of Machhapuchhre — and I time our rest there so you're not rushing past it.

The thing most people don't expect is how funny the trail is. The leeches in the low forest, the yak that refuses to move, the moment everyone's rain jacket blows inside out at the same time. I've seen it all and I'll probably laugh with you. Come trek with me and you'll be fed, looked after, and properly entertained.

Biography

I used to be too shy to speak to foreigners — now I lead groups across Annapurna and Manaslu and love every minute. Guiding gave me confidence, and I hope the women who trek with me leave with the same.

Personal Story

I came to guiding from Chitwan, which is about as far from a snow peak as you can get in Nepal — so my first trek felt like landing on another planet. That was four years ago, and now the Langtang Valley is my second home. I speak four languages, which means somewhere on the trail I can almost always make someone laugh.

What I notice is people. A client who goes quiet at 4,000 metres isn't being rude, they're tired, and I'll spot it before they say anything. I keep the pace honest and the mood light. My favourite moment is the Kyanjin Gompa ridge at sunset — most groups rush down, but if we sit for ten minutes the whole valley turns gold and nobody says a word. That silence is the best part of the job.

I'll tell you which tea houses have the cleanest beds and which have the best sel roti. Small things, but they're the difference between a good trek and one you won't stop talking about.

Biography

I started as a lodge helper and worked my way up to guiding Mardi and Annapurna routes. I want more Nepali women to see that this career is open to us.

Personal Story

I'm from the Budhi Gandaki side of Manaslu, which means the Tsum Valley isn't a destination to me, it's where my relatives pray. I've been guiding for six years and I still get chills walking into the Mu Gompa at dawn when the chanting starts.

People think Manaslu is "the quiet alternative to Annapurna." It's quieter, yes, but it asks more of you — longer days, rougher lodges, and a border with Tibet you can almost touch. I know which teahouse keeper will have warm water ready and which switchback has the best view of Himalchuli when the clouds lift at noon.

What I love showing clients is the little stuff: the mani walls you walk around (never across), the way Tsum villagers offer butter tea without expecting anything back. If you trek with me, leave the hurry at home. The mountains here have been patient for a long time, and they reward the same.

Biography

My nickname is the Manaslu guide because I know that circuit better than my own backyard. I specialise in the tougher, higher routes and keeping everyone safe when the weather turns.

Personal Story

I'm a Sherpa from Solukhumbu, and the Everest region is in my blood — but I've been a working guide for six years, not my whole life, and I like it that way. It keeps me sharp. I can fix a broken bootlace, a leaking bottle, and a client's spirits with about equal speed.

What I'm known for on the trail is steadiness. When the wind picks up on the climb to Namche, I don't speed up or slow down — I match you. I've walked clients through their first real altitude headache and watched them stand at base camp three days later grinning like they won something. They did.

The funny part nobody tells you: the yaks own the trail. Step aside, let them pass, don't make eye contact with the lead one. I learned that the hard way on my second season and now I teach every group before we even leave Lukla. Trek with me and you'll be in safe, calm, slightly sarcastic hands.

Biography

Coming from a mountain family, carrying loads was normal — but leading my own groups was the dream. At 8Mountains I get to do both, and mentor younger porters so the work stays fair and respected.

Personal Story

My family runs a tea house on the Manaslu circuit, so I knew every switchback before I knew how to read. I've been guiding for five years, and honestly the best part isn't the big peaks — it's watching a first-time trekker realise they're capable of more than they thought.

I know the Gorkha side of the trail better than anyone in the company. Where the water's safe to refill, which village makes the best gundruk, and exactly how long the climb to Rupina La feels at mile eight when your legs are done talking to you. I'll be the one handing you a stick and a smile at that exact moment.

What tourists miss is the everyday life along the route — the kids walking to school, the old woman spinning prayer wheels, the smell of woodsmoke at dusk. I'll point those out because that's the Nepal I want you to remember, not just the postcard. Come with me and we'll take it one honest step at a time.

Biography

I grew up between the city and the village, so I know both worlds. My favourite part of guiding is the cultural side — explaining the festivals, the food, and the stories behind every stupa.

Personal Story

I'm from Pokhara, so the Annapurna range has been my morning view my whole life. I've been guiding for six years, and I still pause on the Poon Hill climb when the first light hits Dhaulagiri — six years and it hasn't gotten old.

I'm the one on the team who packs extra. Extra snacks, extra layers, extra patience. I trained as a nurse before guiding, so when someone's stomach turns or their knee complains, I actually know what to do, not just "drink water and push through." That matters more than people expect at 3,000 metres.

The thing I love sharing is the music. In some villages an old man will pull out a sarangi and play, and if you sit and listen instead of filming, he'll play longer. Those nights are why I guide. Trek with me and you'll eat well, stay safe, and hear the Himalaya instead of just seeing it.

Personal Story

I grew up in Nuwakot helping my family run a small guesthouse, so I learned to read travellers before I could reach the top shelf. I've been guiding for four years and the Mardi Himal ridge is my favourite place to bring someone for their first real mountain walk.

I'm quieter than some of the others, and that's on purpose. I watch. I notice when a client is worried but won't say it, and I'll shift the pace without making a fuss. The trail teaches you that the small moments — a cup of tea at a viewpoint, a langur monkey crossing the path, the smell of rhododendron after rain — are the ones people write home about.

What I tell every group: the mountains aren't a race. On Mardi we go slow enough to actually see the fishtail peak instead of just photographing it. Trek with me and you'll get a calm, careful companion who knows exactly where the next good resting rock is.

Biography

The youngest on the team, and proud of it. I am learning from the senior guides and already leading day-sections of the easier treks. The plan is to be a full lead guide in two seasons.

Personal Story

I'm from Okhaldhunga, a village so high in the Everest region that school meant a two-hour walk each way — so guiding was the natural next step. I've been at it for six years, and I was the first woman from my village to lead a trek. That still means something to me every time I clip on my pack.

What I bring is sisterhood on the trail. The clients who arrive nervous about a "girls' trip" leave having realised the Himalaya doesn't care who's holding the map. I keep the group tight and the encouragement louder than the wind. On the climb above Dingboche I sing sometimes — badly, my groups will confirm — and somehow it helps.

The part I love is the morning tea round. Before anyone laces up, I'm handing out cups and checking faces. Tired? Headache? Excited? I know the day's plan by the second sip. Trek with me and you're with someone who'll push you exactly as hard as you need and not one step more.

Personal Story

I'm from Bandipur, a hill town where the views were free and the food was the event. I've been guiding for five years, and I turned out to be the team's quiet specialist in keeping people fed and happy on long days.

I'm the one who remembers whose birthday is mid-trek and somehow produces a cake at a tea house. Who carries extra peanuts for the client who forgot snacks. Who knows the exact bend where the Annapurna South comes into view and times our stop so nobody misses it. None of that is guide-school stuff, it's just how I was raised — look after your people.

What tourists miss is how social the trail is. You're not walking through empty wilderness, you're walking through someone's homeland, and every tea house is a neighbour's house. I'll introduce you properly. Trek with me and you'll leave full, rested, and adopted by half the villages on the route.

Biography

I fell in love with the mountains through a camera lens, then realised I wanted to be the one showing people the view. Now I guide and capture the moments clients treasure for years.

Personal Story

I'm from Kathmandu and I picked up a camera before I picked up a trekking pole — so when I started guiding four years ago, I brought both. I'm the one who knows exactly where the light hits Poon Hill at 5:40am and will wake you in time to catch it.

I see the trip through a lens, which means I notice detail: the way a client's shoulders drop when they finally relax, the prayer flags against a storm cloud, the old man in Ghandruk whose laugh is worth a portrait. I'll shoot your photos so you're actually in them, not just behind the phone.

Practical bit — bring a power bank, the lodges don't always have outlets near the beds, and the best shots eat battery. Trek with me and you'll come home with pictures that show the place the way it felt, not just the way it looked.

Biography

I blend gentle yoga with trekking so our guests arrive at the teahouse looser and calmer. Wellness on the trail is my thing — breath, stretch, repeat.