Pickup time by 6:30 a.m. Flight Time from 7 to 8 a.m. as weather wise. Duration of flight with stops: 1-2 hours. Back to Hotel by 9 a.m. or 10 a.m. Flight distance of 51 km / 32 miles from Pokhara to Muktinath Temple area, one way.
Morning as time for transfer to Pokhara domestic airport, a short drive to the airport terminal. After security formalities head towards Helipad, where airlines staff and pilot welcomes you with introduction. Board on a well seated and spacious chopper according to group size, and then getting ready for the exciting flight.
During flight enjoy super views of Pokhara city and the scenic valley, rising high views of Annapurna and Manaslu Himalayas. Includes superb close views of majestic Machhapuchare Himal, the famed Fish Tail that dominates the Pokhara valley. The view extends as far towards Mt. Dhaulagiri in the west, as the chopper heads towards north-west above rolling hills. Flying high and close above world deepest gorge of Kaligandaki River; sandwiched between 7th high Mt. Dhaulagiri and 10th highest Mt. Annapurna-I.
From green forested valley and hill, the journey reaches a barren windswept plain of Kaligandaki River plain at Jomsom. The headquarters town of Mustang and the route to Muktinath and Upper Mustang towards Tibet / China border. A nice large town with a small airstrip, landing at Jomsom for short refreshing breaks. To get glimpse of the local Thakali people cultures, the indigenous habitants of Lower Mustang and Kaligandaki River valley. From Jomsom a short flight above the windswept river valley to land near Muktinath Temple premises. A small Helipad just outside the temple, a short walk up to enter tranquil surrounding towards the main temple.
Observe the pilgrims on prayer and worship, after getting holy wash from the beautiful old 108 water spouts. The origin of Muktinath site and the temple is related to 19th Centurry. It is believed that Lord Vishnu Temple was hallowed by the Hindu’s, as well visited by a famous Tibetan saint. By the Guru Shabkar in 1818, mediated and got connected with this holy place. Enjoy the peaceful environment and get blessed from the priest, and explore the surrounding important holy sites.
Completing the refreshing morning tour of the sacred site, the holiest of all holy sites of Muktinath. Then get on board for sweeping scenic flight back to Pokhara, after a glorious, wonderful experience on Muktinath Helicopter Tour.
Gakul and Company, supported by Himalayan Forever Treks, orchestrated a sacred journey in the Muktinath Helicopter Tour. Soaring through the skies, the pilgrimage to Muktinath was a divine experience. Gakul's guidance and Himalayan Forever Treks' impeccable service added a spiritual touch to this extraordinary helicopter tour.
The Muktinath Helicopter Tour with Gakul and Company, backed by Himalayan Forever Treks, painted a heavenly canvas in the skies. The vibrant hues of Muktinath's landscapes unfolded beneath us, creating a breathtaking masterpiece. Gakul's expertise and Himalayan Forever Treks' seamless planning made this helicopter tour a truly artistic and memorable experience.
Embarking on an aerial pilgrimage with Gakul and Company, supported by Himalayan Forever Treks, was a transformative experience. Soaring above the sacred site of Muktinath, Gakul's insights and Himalayan Forever Treks' commitment to excellence created a spiritual odyssey that touched the soul.
Gakul and Company, with the steadfast support of Himalayan Forever Treks, curated a journey of reverence in the Muktinath Helicopter Tour. Soaring through the skies, the spiritual aura of Muktinath was palpable. Gakul's guidance and Himalayan Forever Treks' meticulous planning added layers of sanctity to this helicopter adventure.
The Muktinath Helicopter Tour with Gakul and Company, supported by Himalayan Forever Treks, was a sojourn into divine heights. Soaring above the Himalayas, the sacred energy of Muktinath was felt at every turn. Gakul's expertise and Himalayan Forever Treks' commitment to excellence made this helicopter journey a truly spiritual and uplifting experience.
I'm a physicist. I don't believe in miracles. But the eternal flame at Muktinath—burning continuously for centuries beside ice-cold water and howling wind—defied every explanation I could offer. Our Himalayan Forever guide simply smiled. "Some things are not meant to be explained," he said. "Only witnessed." I touched the flame. It was warm. My skepticism? Considerably cooler. This tour didn't just show me faith. It made me question my certainty.
I'm a Tibetan Buddhist. Muktinath is sacred to both our traditions. Standing before the Jwala Mai temple, watching flames dance beside sacred water, I felt the artificial boundaries between religions dissolve. Our Himalayan Forever pilot, a Hindu, offered me incense. I offered him a kata scarf. We prayed together—different gods, same devotion. This helicopter tour didn't just transport me across mountains. It transported me across divisions I'd carried my entire life.
Forty years married. Forty years of shared faith. We've always dreamed of Muktinath but never had the time, the fitness, the courage. Our children secretly booked this helicopter tour. When we landed and saw the Gandaki River far below, the Dhaulagiri range gleaming in the distance, my wife held my hand exactly as she did on our wedding day. We prayed together at the temple. Forty years. One helicopter. Infinite gratitude to Himalayan Forever.
Dad's knees were destroyed by 35 years of factory work. He accepted he'd never complete his pilgrimage. I accepted it too. Then I found this helicopter tour. At Muktinath, he didn't walk—he floated. He touched every water spout, rang every bell, pressed his forehead to every sacred stone. "These are my new knees," he said, pointing at the helicopter. Himalayan Forever didn't just give my father a tour. They gave him his mobility back.
Our pilot, Gopal, was a former temple assistant at Muktinath. He knew every ritual, every prayer, every hidden story. At the main shrine, he guided us through the proper offerings—water, flower, flame. He translated the Sanskrit inscriptions, explained the symbology, corrected our clumsy gestures with such gentle patience. Himalayan Forever doesn't just hire pilots. They hire custodians of culture. We didn't just see Muktinath. We experienced it correctly.
I'm an atheist. I joined this tour purely for the mountain scenery. But standing at Muktinath, watching devotees weep with joy, witnessing faith so pure it needed no proof—I felt something I can't explain. Not belief. Not conversion. Just... openness. Our Himalayan Forever guide noticed my confusion. "The mountain doesn't care what you believe," he said quietly. "It only cares that you arrived." I still don't believe in God. But I believe in Muktinath.
The approach to Muktinath is itself a pilgrimage. Dhaulagiri on one side, Nilgiri on the other, the Kali Gandaki gorge carving the world's deepest valley below. Our Himalayan Forever pilot slowed the helicopter, tilting gently so both flanks could photograph. "The mountains are also temples," he said. "They bless everyone who passes." I'm not religious. But when we landed, I touched the soil and thanked something I couldn't name. Maybe that's what prayer is
I'm a yoga teacher from California. I thought I understood Hinduism. I was wrong. Muktinath dismantled my Western misconceptions—the rituals aren't superstition, they're technology for transcendence. The 108 water spouts aren't just symbolic, they're transformative. Our Himalayan Forever guide, a Brahmin priest's son, answered my endless questions with bottomless patience. I returned to California with a different practice. Deeper. Quieter. More authentic. This tour was my real teacher training.
Everyone focuses on the temple. But the view of Upper Mustang from Muktinath—the forbidden kingdom, the last bastion of Tibetan culture—is equally sacred. Brown hills stretching toward Tibet, monasteries clinging to impossible cliffs, the ancient trade route snaking through valleys. Our pilot circled twice, giving us time to absorb this landscape that few tourists ever see. Himalayan Forever understands that Muktinath isn't just a destination. It's a gateway to a hidden world.
My mother is 74, with advanced osteoporosis. She's prayed at our family shrine every morning for five decades, always facing a small framed photo of Muktinath. She never believed she'd see it in person. Himalayan Forever made the impossible happen. The team assisted her from wheelchair to helicopter, ensured her oxygen levels stayed stable, and waited patiently while she touched each of the 108 water spouts—counting them in a whisper. She cried the entire flight back. So did I.
I'm a geologist. I know that the Jwala Mai eternal flame is simply methane seeping through rock. I've explained this to countless students. But standing at 3,710m, watching pilgrims press their foreheads to stone that has burned for centuries, my textbook explanations felt embarrassingly inadequate. Our Himalayan Forever pilot, a gentle man from Pokhara, simply said: "Science tells us how. Faith tells us why." I didn't convert. But I finally shut up and listened.
My husband stopped believing in God when his brother died in 1984. He never set foot in a temple again. I booked this helicopter tour hoping for scenery; I never expected a miracle. At Muktinath, he stood before the main shrine for a long time. Then, slowly, he folded his hands. He didn't speak. He didn't need to. Himalayan Forever gave me back a piece of the man I married. Some pilgrimages heal what medicine cannot.
My grandfather turned 103 last month. His only remaining wish: one final darshan of Muktinath. His doctor called it "medically inadvisable." My grandfather called it "none of your business." Himalayan Forever arranged a stretcher, supplemental oxygen, and a direct clearance from aviation authorities. At the temple, he couldn't walk to the spouts. So we brought the sacred water to him, drop by drop, each one carrying his whispered prayers. He passed away peacefully eleven days later. His wish was fulfilled.
A elderly Buddhist nun and a young Hindu priest boarded our helicopter together. They didn't know each other. By the time we landed at Muktinath, they were sharing oranges and laughing. Our Himalayan Forever pilot later explained that this happens often—the temple is sacred to both traditions, and somehow, at 3,710m, the boundaries between religions soften. I watched them pray at adjacent shrines, different gods, same devotion. This tour should be mandatory for world leaders.
Dad first trekked to Muktinath in 1978. He still talks about it—the cold, the camaraderie, the profound exhaustion. His knees won't allow a repeat. I booked this helicopter tour hoping to revive old memories. When we landed, he walked straight to the 108 water spouts, knelt carefully, and touched the water to his forehead. "Same water," he whispered. "Different knees." Himalayan Forever didn't just give my father a view. They gave him his youth back, briefly.
I've done hot yoga, sound baths, ayurvedic cleanses. I thought I understood "spirituality." Muktinath humbled me immediately. The 108 water spouts aren't Instagram-friendly. The eternal flame is small, unassuming, easy to miss. There are no gift shops, no "om" latte art, no influencers doing asanas in designer leggings. Just centuries of quiet devotion. Our Himalayan Forever guide didn't try to impress us. He simply prayed, and invited us to join. I did. I'm still not sure why. It felt right.
My wife and I haven't spoken in three months. A stupid argument about money, calcified into permanent silence. Our daughter secretly booked this helicopter tour as an intervention. At Muktinath, standing before the eternal flame, my wife reached for my hand. I took it. We didn't speak for five minutes. When we finally did, it was about the flame, the water, the mountains—anything but our fight. Himalayan Forever gave us neutral ground at 3,710m. We're talking again. Slowly.
I'm an ICU nurse. I've held hands of the dying, comforted grieving families, run code blues until my legs gave out. I came to Muktinath not as a pilgrim, but as someone desperately needing rest. The 108 water spouts washed away three years of accumulated trauma. The eternal flame warmed parts of me I thought had permanently frozen. Our Himalayan Forever pilot noticed my exhaustion and extended our landing time without being asked. This tour healed me. I don't say that lightly.
I'm a Reform rabbi from Sydney. I know nothing about Hindu rituals. But when a colleague invited me on this helicopter tour, I felt strangely compelled. At Muktinath, I didn't pray to Vishnu. I stood respectfully, observed carefully, and offered silent gratitude for the opportunity. Our Himalayan Forever guide, upon learning I was a rabbi, quietly pointed out the temple's syncretic elements—Buddhist prayer flags beside Hindu shrines, Sanskrit and Tibetan inscriptions sharing walls. "All rivers flow to the same ocean," he said. Indeed.
Mum was raised Hindu but converted when she married my Catholic father. She hasn't entered a temple in forty years. I booked this helicopter tour hoping to reconnect her with something she'd buried. At Muktinath, she stood at the edge of the 108 spouts for a long time. Then, slowly, hesitantly, she dipped her fingers in the water and touched her forehead. She didn't pray. She didn't speak. But something shifted in her face. That evening, she cooked dal bhat for the first time in decades.
I'm a professional travel photographer. My camera is an extension of my body. At Muktinath, I raised it to my eye—then stopped. The 108 spouts deserved more than pixels. The eternal flame couldn't be captured. Our Himalayan Forever pilot noticed and smiled. "Some places don't want to be photographed," he said. "They want to be remembered." I put my camera away. I haven't looked at those non-existent photos once. But I close my eyes and I'm still there.
At 91, Marta was the oldest among us. She walked slowly, leaned heavily on her grandson, and refused all offers of assistance at the water spouts. "I waited nine decades for this," she snapped. "I will do it myself." And she did. All 108 spouts, one by one, her arthritic fingers finding each stream of sacred water. Our Himalayan Forever team stood ready but never intervened. They understood that dignity is sometimes more important than efficiency.
Our pilot took a slight detour on the return flight, swinging north toward Upper Mustang. "You've come all this way," he said. "You should see the forbidden kingdom." The landscape shifted instantly—brown hills, whitewashed monasteries, caves carved into impossible cliffs. No roads. No trees. Just ancient Tibet, preserved at 4,000m. Himalayan Forever didn't advertise this detour. It was a gift, spontaneous and generous. This is how you build loyalty.
My husband died last spring. We'd planned to trek to Muktinath together for our 30th anniversary. I came alone, carrying his photo. At the main shrine, a priest noticed my tears and silently motioned me closer. He performed a small ritual, sprinkling water over my husband's image, chanting softly. Our Himalayan Forever guide translated: "He is here. The temple receives all pilgrims, living and departed." I don't know if I believe that. But I choose to act as if I do.
I collect postmarks from unusual places. At Muktinath, our Himalayan Forever pilot helped me find the small temple post office—just a desk, really—where a elderly woman sells stamps and hand-cancels envelopes with a wooden block. I mailed a postcard to my seven-year-old nephew. It arrived six weeks later, smudged and imperfect. He's pinned it above his bed. "Aunty sent me a mountain," he tells everyone. Some pilgrimages are for the pilgrims. This one was for him.
Muktinath Helicopter Tour is a magnificent short and swift air journey to and from a scenic and exciting Pokhara city. A flight in the comfort of a spacious seated chopper flying high above the charming valley of Pokhara. The helicopter heads due North-West over tiers of green hills covered in rhododendron forest, flying through Kaligandaki River gorge.
The holy temple of Muktinath located Nepal Far North West, around the district of Mustang. Which is on the trail of old Trans Himalayan Salt and Caravan route to Nepal and Tibet border via Upper Mustang. The headquarters town of the Mustang area is Jomsom, situated on the shelf of Kaligandaki River.
Where travelers can reach by short flight from Pokhara to Jomsom town airport, and drive or walk to Muktinath. The driving distance from Pokhara to Muktinath is 168 km. / 104.39 miles. Takes more than 7-8 hours. Due to rough dirt road conditions. But on a helicopter is just 51 km / 32 miles air distance of less than an hour flight.
Depending upon the seasons, but mostly for all seasons carry a light day pack with necessary items for the morning trip. Wearing warm clothes, down jacket, sun hat and woolen tops, scarf, sun-glass and sun-blocks. On higher altitude the sun is bright with strong UV, needs protection against the bright sunlight.
Wearing boots, or sport shoes, might need to walk for short distance around Muktinath Temple premises. As well some money for refreshment drinks and breakfast at a village near Muktinath temple or in Jomsom, time permitting and weather wise.
At least a month ahead or minimum of a week or few days, after paying the amount charged for the flight. Full payment should be made before boarding the helicopter for Muktinath Helicopter tour. The cost depends upon the number of passengers or for chartering as private for one family or friends.
All age group are allowed on this helicopter tour to Muktinath from Pokhara to Pokhara. But the passengers requires personal medical / travel insurance in case of sudden illness as per own medical history background.
However all passengers needs to be in sound health as well for young children, for below 18 years, must be accompanied by parents of guardian.
Accommodates about 5 passengers in AS 350 B, Euro Copter for above 6 to 10, chartering bigger Helicopter like MI 17. A Russian built Helicopter also used for cargo and passengers in Nepal Mountainous region.
| No of people | Price per person |
|---|---|
| 1 - 5 | $6,000 |
| Group Joining - Per | $1,399 |
| No of people | Price per person |
|---|---|
| 1 - 1 | $700 |
| 2 - 4 | $599 |
| No of people | Price per person |
|---|---|
| 1 - 5 | $3,500 |
| Group Joining - Per | $799 |
