The Unseen Ascent: A New Moon, An Ancient Fort, and a Cookie Thief

Forget the luxury of the Taj for a moment. This past week, Aditya and I swapped five-star linens for a cold temple floor and headlamps. We joined a group of friends for an overnight trek to Rajgad Fort, the legendary "King of Forts" outside Pune in the state of Maharashtra, India.

We started our ascent under the first New Moon of 2026 - a night so pitch-black that the world existed only in the ten-foot radius of our light beams.

Hiking the Void

There is a specific psychological shift that happens when you hike in total darkness. In Colorado, I often guide veterans and first responders on night hikes to tackle the highest peaks. There is something healing about the forced focus; you can't worry about the miles ahead when you can only see your next step.

At Rajgad, the night was my ally for a different reason. While I am learning to love India deeply, the amount of trash on the trails is still something I struggle to reconcile. In the dark, the litter vanished. The world was stripped down to its ancient bones: centuries-old stairs that felt less like a path and more like steep, vertical rock ladders.

Because the group naturally fell into speaking in Marathi, I spent most of the climb in a serene, meditative silence. We climbed through massive stone gates that felt like portals—you step through a dark archway with no idea what lies on the other side, feeling the history of the Maratha Empire in the very temperature of the stone.

The Dog "Handoff" and Human Noise

One of the most surprising parts of the trek was the local "security detail." Groups of stray dogs would greet us at certain checkpoints, walking with us with a sense of purpose until they reached the edge of their territory. Then, with almost military precision, they would stop, and a new "crew" of dogs would take over the escort.

However, not all "nature" was quiet. We passed clusters of tent campers on the lower plateaus, including one group blasting music at 3:00 AM as if the mountain were a private club. It’s a strange paradox of human behavior I’ll never quite understand—traveling so far into the wild just to bring the noise of the city with you.

Sanctuary at 4,000 Feet

We reached the summit at 4:00 AM and sought shelter in a small Hindu temple. It was cold. I curled up next to Adi, incredibly thankful for the emergency pair of handwarmers I always keep in my pack (a habit from the Rockies that finally paid off in India).

While some of us took a two-hour nap in the serene, cold interior of the temple, others built a small campfire outside. The smell of the woodsmoke drifting into the stone temple created an atmosphere that felt ancient and perfectly still.

The Reveal: Fog, Lakes, and Fortifications

When the sun finally began to bleed over the horizon, the "wow" moment I had been waiting for arrived. What I had assumed was a thick valley of fog during our dark climb began to shimmer. As the light hit it, the "fog" transformed into a massive, stunning dammed lake.

The scale of the fort finally revealed itself—massive stone walls stretching further than the eye could see, clinging to the ridges like the spine of a dragon.

The Great Espresso Cookie Heist

I set up my camera to record a sunrise meditation for my community, ready to share this peace. I pulled out my "summit prize" - my last few espresso cookies.

Enter the monkey.

This wasn't a shy animal; this was a professional thief. He made a beeline for my cookies. In a moment of panic, I threw them at Aditya to save them, but the monkey simply pivoted, scurrying up Adi like he was a tree to claim the prize.

The meditation video didn’t exactly go as planned. Instead of a serene mountain vista, the frame was hijacked by a very smug monkey sitting directly in front of the lens, his cheek pouches visibly bulging with the square outlines of my espresso cookies.

Why You Should Hike in the Dark

To my readers, especially those who feel a bit intimidated by the wild: don’t be afraid of the night. Whether you’re in the Colorado 14ers or the ancient forts of Maharashtra, hiking at night forces a connection with the trail that daylight obscures. It turns a physical challenge into a spiritual one. Just a word of advice: if you’re bringing espresso cookies, keep them under lock and key. The locals have a very refined palate.