Exploring Jia Monastery and Hidden Villages Near Dharamkot, Himachal Pradesh
After two weeks of volunteering and living with a local family in Dharamkot, my friend and I felt the urge to wander. Not far. Not with a plan. Just enough to see where the road would take us. We woke up early, packed our bags, and stepped out into the crisp mountain morning. Breakfast was simple but perfect, a fresh smoothie and a pesto sandwich shared before the day's adventure began.
With the sun climbing over the Dhauladhar range, we hopped onto a scooty and rode downhill. Within an hour and a half, the weather had completely changed. Having spent weeks in Dharamkot's pleasant 13–20°C temperatures, the warmth of the lower valleys felt intense. We crossed the bustling streets of Dharamshala, left the crowds behind, and continued deeper into the Kangra Valley. There was no destination in mind.
Among the Pines of Jia
A couple of hours later, we arrived at Jia. Tucked away among towering pine forests stood the monastery, quiet and almost empty. A few monks moved through the grounds, studying and going about their day in silence. Apart from them, we seemed to have the entire place to ourselves.
The first thing we noticed wasn't the architecture. It was the smell. The pines.
Each tree had been marked and numbered, and from many of them resin slowly dripped into small conical collectors attached to their trunks. The warm scent of pine sap lingered in the air, mixing with the mountain breeze.
We wandered through the monastery grounds slowly. Every structure carried intricate carvings, and at the heart of the complex stood shrines dedicated to Lord Buddha. Surrounded by endless pines, the monastery felt less like a building and more like a part of the forest itself. Time moved differently there. For an hour, we sat, walked, and listened.
Following a Forest Path
Eventually, curiosity pulled us onward. A narrow path led us through the forest and toward a viewpoint overlooking the valley. The landscape opened up dramatically, mountains layered one behind another, forests stretching into the distance, and below us a stream carving its way through the rocks.
The water came directly from the glaciers of the Dhauladhar range. Cold. Crystal clear. Unforgiving. Naturally, we jumped in.
The shock lasted only a few seconds before turning into one of those moments that makes you feel completely awake and present. Glacial water rushed around us, flowing over rocks that had been shaped by centuries of mountain runoff.
There was no phone signal. No noise. Just water and mountains.
As we dried off and prepared to leave, we noticed a small hut tucked beside the stream. Inside, we met a woman who ran a traditional water mill that had been in her family for generations. Her great-grandfathers had operated it before her, and today she continued the work alongside her son.
She showed us how the system worked.
A small canal diverted water from the stream, guiding it beneath the house where it powered a turbine. The force of the flowing water turned the machinery above, running both the mill and parts of the shop attached to it. As she spoke, it felt like stepping into a different era, one where communities relied on rivers, seasons, and local craftsmanship rather than machines and supply chains.
For the nearby villages, the mill was still a part of everyday life. And for us, it became the highlight of the day.
The Road Home
As evening approached, we began the ride back. The Dhauladhar Glacier glowed in the distance, its snow-covered peaks standing tall above the valley. Farmers worked quietly in the fields below while winding roads carried us through villages and forests toward Dharamkot.
The day had started without a plan. No famous landmark to visit. No itinerary to follow. Yet it became one of those journeys that stays with you long after it's over.
And the reminder that some of the best travel experiences happen when you simply leave room for discovery. Back in Dharamkot, we ended the day with a warm dinner and what might have been the best carrot cake we've ever had.
Not a bad way to return home!
