Lam Dal Lake Trek

The Lam Dal trek begins in Bir, a town better known internationally for the paragliding site at nearby Billing than for the considerably wilder terrain that opens up just behind it. From the edge of Bir's Tibetan colony, the trail climbs steadily through terraced tea gardens before entering forest, following what is largely an old jeep track used occasionally by supply vehicles serving the villages of Chhota Bhangal further up the valley. Oak dominates the lower forest, giving way gradually to rhododendron and then to blue pine as the gradient steepens through a series of long, looping switchbacks. Streams cross the track at regular intervals, most running clear and fast enough by midday that filtering rather than treating chemically is generally sufficient, and each crossing offers a natural pause to look back over the widening view of the Kangra valley's tea-covered lower slopes. Villages here belong to the Gaddi and Chhota Bhangal shepherd communities, distinct in dialect and dress from those closer to Dharamshala, and small clusters of slate-roofed houses appear at intervals, their fields planted with potato and maize rather than the wheat seen lower down. Rajgundha itself sits on a broad, sloping meadow shelf, one of the last proper villages before the trail commits fully to wilderness, and its guesthouses, simple but comfortable, are run by families who have long supported trekking groups heading toward Lam Dal and the wider Chhota Bhangal high country. The evening offers sweeping views back down toward Bir and the Kangra plains beyond, often lit gold as the sun drops, and the guide uses dinner to outline the considerably wilder stages ahead, since the trail beyond Rajgundha grows quiet and remote very quickly.

Beyond Rajgundha, the trail loses its jeep-track character almost immediately, narrowing into a genuine forest path that climbs through increasingly dense fir and spruce, the canopy overhead thick enough that direct sunlight becomes a rare, welcome interruption rather than a constant. The forest floor is carpeted with a deep layer of needle litter, and fungi in a startling range of colours appear along the path's damper stretches, particularly after recent rain. Himalayan monal are occasionally heard, and less often seen, calling from deeper in the forest, their sharp, distinctive whistle a highlight for anyone attentive enough to catch it over the sound of boots on the trail. As the forest begins to thin near the day's end, the trail opens onto a scatter of grazing meadows dotted with thatch, the simple stone-and-timber shelters built by Gaddi shepherds who move their flocks up to these pastures for the summer months. Palachak Thatch, the day's camp, is one such clearing, chosen by generations of shepherds for its flat ground and proximity to a reliable spring emerging from beneath a mossy rock face just above the site. The setting feels distinctly wilder than anything encountered on the first day, with the Dhauladhar's higher ridgeline now visible in fragments through gaps in the surrounding forest, hinting at the terrain still to come. Evening temperatures drop sharply once the sun disappears behind the ridge, and the group typically gathers close around the cooking fire, sharing food with any shepherds currently based at the thatch, whose knowledge of the trail conditions ahead to Lam Dal is treated as valuable, up-to-date information rather than mere conversation.