Ladakh Wrap-up

Dried-fruit and nut vendor in the Leh bazaar

Mission #3:  Don't Die

Of our three missions, I'm pleased that #3 was not the one we failed to accomplish.  Although there were a few close calls.  The whole walking-over-melting-river-ice thing, for instance.  And then there was the time when I was minding my own business, climbing up a steep patch of scree in search of a snow leopard when I rather suddenly had to throw myself across the hillside to avoid a falling boulder, dislodged by he-who-will-remain-nameless. And then there were the inevitable ice-covered, potholed ledges along the edges of gorges that pass for roads in this part of the world.  At least we had one snow chain.  Um, yeah, ONE snow chain.  Seems like getting two snow chains wouldn't be that much harder than getting one, but what do I know.  How do you decide what tire to put it on?  And let's not forget the uber sketchy zip-line/crate by which we crossed the Zanskar river. R. had a great deal of fun in listing all the numerous ways in which we might 1) get our fingers (or hair, in my case) stuck in the winch, and 2) fall into the river when the re-bar-reinforced wooden box we were sitting in fell apart half way across

.

While in the Leh airport waiting lounge prior to boarding our flight back to Delhi, a nice young man walked up to us to tell us that he had just skied across Antarctica. I guess he just wanted someone to talk to who would appreciate his experience.  Little did he suspect that we would also be Antarctic veterans, and could totally talk shop with him (although his experiences were a little more hard-core than mine). Not 10 days before he had completed the first Indian army ski expedition across Antarctica from Hercules Inlet to the geographic South Pole. The team of 8 skied 1170 km over 50 days, finally arriving at the South Pole on January 14th.  Being native to Leh, our new friend was better prepared than most Indians for the rigors of the frozen continent. Read more about their expedition here.    

Us with the Indian army Antarctic skier in the Leh airport

For those of you who need another snow leopard fix, check out some consummate snow leopard footage here from the BBC Planet Earth series.  And finally, a few pics of some awesome Leh beasties for all you animal lovers out there.

Blue sheep (or bharal), and preferred snow leopard prey

...and my favorite donkey in the whole world!

In Search of the Snow Leopard

Mission 2:  See a Snow Leopard

The Prelude

One fine autumn evening last year while sitting at an outdoor table at the Tip Top Teashop in Mussourie, three Hindi students began to discuss how awesome it would be to see a snow leopard in the wild.   For me, the conversation was entirely theoretical at first.  I mean, come on, how many of those things are there left in the world anyway, like six?  Such an expedition would involve expensive things like guides and good outdoor gear.  And not least of all, it’s flippin’ cold in Ladakh in February. But as we continued to discuss and research, the idea began to seem more feasible. 

The Background

Snow leopards are found in the high reaches of the Himalayan mountains and on the Tibetan plateau.  Their range stretches from eastern Afghanistan in the west, through Pakistan, Tajikistan, Uzbekistan, Kazakhstan and Kyrgystan to Mongolia and Siberia in the east, and from China in the north down through the Himalayan mountains to Nepal and India in the south.  The best place to see snow leopards in India is in the state of Jammu and Kashmir in the district of Ladakh, a land north of the main Himalayan range. The landscape here is extreme - cold, precipitous, and high, as can be seen in this photo taken from the airplane. Looking for a snow leopard here is like looking for a flea in a farmyard.  

Snow leopard county, as seen from an airplane

The snow leopard (Panthera uncia) is a big cat weighing  between 27 to 55 kg .  Usually a solitary beast, snow leopards only travel in pairs during the late winter mating season.  Their main prey in their Indian range is the bharal (Himalayan blue sheep) that also frequent the high mountain passes of Ladakh.  Various estimates put the world-wide snow leopard population in the wild between 4,000 and 7,000, while the Indian population of snow leopards is estimated to be between 100-200 animals. (In contrast, according to the results of the 2010 tiger census, India has an estimated 1,706 tigers.) Snow leopards are notoriously difficult to study.  Their mountainous habitat, secretive nature, and perfect camouflage make sightings rare. Considered the holy grail for wildlife spotters, only around 1,000 foreigners have ever had the privilege of seeing a snow leopard in the wild.  We would be exceedingly lucky if we were to see one.

Most people who get a bee in their bonnet about snow leopards sign up for expensive guided expeditions run by a handful of eco-tourism companies.  These 10-12 day trips can set you back around $4,000, not including international airfare from your home country.  We, being cheap, decided to free-style it.  We found several sample snow leopard trip itineraries online, and from these determined that our best bet was to plan an expedition to the Rumbak valley within Hemis National Park, south of Leh.  Hemis National Park is a massive mountainous landscape, understandably one of the least visited national parks in the country.  It provides critical territory to IUCN red listed endangered animals, including the Tibetan wild ass, the black-necked crane, and wolves.  In the summer snow leopards live above the tree line between 3,000 and 6,000 meters, but in the winter, follow prey to lower altitudes.  So although it’s a bit counter-intuitive that mid-winter is the best time for snow-leopard spotting, this is when the animals are most accessible. 

The Plan

We returned to Leh after our aborted Chadar River trek and immediately began to gear up again for our second expedition.  This time we would be less mobile – one fixed camp would be set up in the Rumbak valley, midway between two side valleys called the Tarbung and Husing valleys.  These two valleys and the Rumbak valley between them is the closest thing around to a snow leopard super-highway.  Which is to say, maybe 5-7 snow leopards are sighted there a year - after thousands of man-hours of searching. Not such great odds. Like many big cats, snow leopards are most active in the morning and evening.  Every day we would rise early and be scanning the slopes in one of the two valleys by 6am.  We would return to camp for breakfast around 9:30am, and then spend the late morning and afternoon roaming the valley floors for fresh tracks and other signs.  Around 4pm we would again take up our station on a hillside, watching the boulders and snow slopes for movement or a rock at appeared to have ears.

After hiring two experienced guides and a cook, we repacked our bags and set off from Leh to Hemis National Park.  We had rented a larger kitchen tent in anticipation of needing a space to stay warm in the evenings.  It was such a bulky thing that we had to hire three tiny donkeys at the base of the valley where the road ended to carry our gear up to the camping spot.  Our first morning was spent setting up camp on one of the few flat spots in the narrow valley.  We found another group already there – a well-equiped expedition of seven clients, three guides and a number of porters organized through Zegrahm Expeditions. 

Our campsite in the Rumbak valley

The Chase

On our first morning we rose early and by 6:30am were scanning the slopes from a high vantage point up the Husing valley.  The grey, cold morning was utterly quite, the silence broken only by the occasional call of a bird.  We divided the hillsides around us into sections and each took responsibility for searching one area.  Around 7:30 one of the guides saw something; what he originally took to be a blue sheep was suddenly revealed to have a long furry tail. The animal disappeared behind a rock before anyone else got a look. Suddenly excited, we bounded further up the hill to try to get a look. Several minutes later, R. found tracks in the snow from two leopards travelling together – likely a mating pair. One set of tracks had a reoccurring spot of blood in one of the prints, an injury sustained from the sharp rock scree covering the slopes at that altitude.  We followed the tracks over the mountainside and the chase was on!

Knowing the snow leopards were travelling much faster than we were over the steep and rocky terrain, we still felt compelled to follow them in the hopes of catching a glimpse of them in the distance.  We trailed them for 3 hours, gaining and losing hundreds of meters in elevation as we picked our way over the shoulders of the mountains.  R., with the fortitude and sure-footedness of a young goat, bounded ahead with the guides, following the tracks as they passed over snow, scree and boulders.  I lagged behind, lacking the energy for this type of extreme trekking before breakfast.   Finally around mid-day, high on the mountainside, it became evident that we could follow no further.  The tracks disappeared down a slope too steep to follow.  Regretfully we turned back, picking our way hundreds of meters back down the mountain to camp.

The view from our highest vantage point on the trek, and where we had to turn back

The Sighting

Upon reaching camp close to 2pm, we fell upon our neglected breakfast like a pack of ravenous wolves.  My shoes were wet and my clothes were all torn up from our morning’s adventures, so after getting a little food in my belly I pulled the insoles out of my boots to dry and removed my shredded wind pants, settling down to eat in my long underwear.  Suddenly there was a commotion outside of the tent – shouts echoed up and down the valley, and suddenly people seemed to be moving, running.  I tossed aside my plate, and shoving my feet into my sole-less boots, took off down the valley with my shoe laces flapping, wearing only my long underwear and a thin sweater.  I wasn’t exactly sure what had caused the sudden urgency, but members of the other expedition were headed down towards the Husing valley, and the only thing I could think was “SNOW LEOPARD!”.

Finally reaching the opening to the valley, I could see the guides and the faster members of the two groups already sitting 50 meters up the scree slope with binoculars and spotting scopes trained high up the hillside.  They obviously had something in view, and so, pausing ever-so-briefly to tie my boots, I flung myself up the slope, terrified that whatever they were looking at would disappear before I could get a look.  I reached the group dirty, cold and half-dressed, and peering through a spotting scope at the opposite side of the valley, I saw it.  The snow leopard. 

Snow leopard spotting

The handsome beast was almost a kilometer away, stalking right along the top of the ridge line on the opposite side of the valley.  Silhouetted against the sky as it was, I could even see puffs of its hot breath condensing in the cold afternoon air.  The leopard’s enormously long and thick tail curved up elegantly behind it.  After a moment it sat down just behind the ridge line, leaving only its head visible.  I attempted to take some pictures through the spotting scope, with the following result.

You can tell that's a snow leopard, right?  Fortunately, we don't have to rely entirely on my inadequate camera technology. Our friends in the other expedition had far better equipment and were generous enough to share some of their images.  Here they are, folks.  Our view of the snow leopard, one of the rarest wildlife sightings in the world.

Photo credit: Jonathan Rossouw 

Photo credit: Jonathan Rossouw 

After resting on top of the ridge for a few minutes, the snow leopard came back towards us, descending just a little down into our valley. At one point it stopped to spray urine on a rock in a territorial scent-marking behavior.  We continued to watch, sharing the few spotting scopes between us.  Finally, after almost an hour, as dusk began to fall, the leopard disappeared into the gloom between two boulders, and we did not see it again.  Happily, we shuffled off to our camps, ecstatic to have been so lucky.

Snow leopard tracks

Shockingly, our sighting occurred on the first full day of the trip. We still had 4 days in the valley to try to replicate the experience.  Every morning and evening we braved the sub-freezing temperatures to sit on hillsides, scanning the slopes for movement.  Signs were everywhere. Most mornings we would find fresh tracks in the snow on the valley floor, sometimes passing within a hundred meters of the tents. One evening we were up on the hillside in the gathering dusk, preparing to return to camp, when we heard a low moaning cry echoing through the valley. Our guides, Jingmet and Panchok, recognized the noise as the call of a male leopard searching for a female.  We ran up the hill to a viewpoint and spent the last half hour of light scanning the valley below.  Although we heard the call several more times, landscape was completely still. The same call, kind of a choking moan, was heard during the night on several more evenings.  But we never saw one again.  After our early success this was disappointing, but we were very cognizant of our extreme luck in seeing one so early on.  It was very exciting to see the tracks and hear the calls, daily evidence that the cats were still there, slipping like ghosts through the scree and boulder fields.

And that, friends, is how we were able to join the small group of westerners who have seen a snow leopard in the wild.  Pretty awesome.

For another account of our snow leopard experience, see the blog of another trip member here.

Scanning for movement after hearing a mating call

The team: We three, our guides Jingmet and Panchok, and our cook/camp manager Samstan

The Chadar Trek

Mission 1: The Chadar Trek

Ladakh can be a difficult place to travel.  The mountains are steep and in the winter snowfall closes many of the mountain passes and makes the few roads treacherous. Some villages become completely inaccessible between November and March.  One method of accessing snow-bound villages during the winter is trekking on top of the ice of  frozen rivers. The Chadar trek is one such route, connecting villages in the Zanskar valley (deep in the mountains) with Chilling (on the road to Leh) along the frozen Zanskar river. This route has been used for centuries for trade and transportation, and is most reliable in February when the ice is most stable.

Now, I should make it clear that the Zanskar river is big and fast-flowing.  For most of its length between Chilling and the Zanskar valley the river is confined within a steep canyon.  If the idea of walking over frozen river ice with a large pack on your back and very cold rushing water a few inches below your feet is terrifying, then you are not alone. People sometimes die on the Chadar trek, usually local porters who carry goods on the river for their livelihood and can't afford to be conservative. The hike from Chilling to the Zanskar valley takes more than a week, and at night porters usually sleep in caves in the canyon walls.

Needless to say, having a good guide is critical on the Chadar trek.  Samstan was the man, and with him and four porters we set off from Chilling one chilly February morning.  Trekking on the ice was intimidating.  A covering of snow made it difficult to assess its thickness.  At times we had to walk along a narrow margin of ice, constrained by the canyon wall on one side and deep rushing water on the other. Slipping in or falling through would not just be cold; it could be fatal. The water was deep and fast, and you would likely be swept under the ice in seconds.

The first night we slept in tents on a spit of land on the side of the river.  It was cold, but perhaps not cold enough, as we discovered the next day.  Shortly after setting off the next morning, we encountered places where the ice was thin or non-existent, forcing us to climb up the canyon walls to get around the bad patch.  Reaching a vantage point we stopped to discuss the advisability of going on. Just below us on the river a huge ice dam of broken-off ice chunks seemed to be building up, suggesting the ice upstream was becoming unstable.  And as we watched, rising water upstream of the ice dam flooded out our only path forward, within minutes obscuring the footprints of a group that had passed that way just minutes before.

And that quickly, the decision whether to go on was made for us.  There was no path forward, and it may have taken days for the ice to stabilize again.  Despite all the planning and preparation that had gone into the trek, I was not so very disappointed to be turned back.  Over the last day I had fully realized just how dangerous the Chadar trek can be, and was not prepared to continue with an activity in which adventure could turn to tragedy in seconds.

For better or worse, the Chadar trek is an endangered activity and within 5 years will cease to exist in it's current form.  A road is currently being blasted out of the rock face above the river.  When completed, winter access to the Zanskar valley villages in the interior will be relatively straight-forward. The road will certainly be safe and more convenient than the river, but its completion will mark the end of an ancient local practice.

Porters heading down to the river

Preparing for a cold night

Where we turned back. Notice the flooded ice along the center left of the river

Beating a hasty retreat

Adventures in Ladakh

India is a massive country, stretching 3,214 km from north to south.  Thanks to its latitudinal height, during the spring when most of the country is enjoying the last of the temperate weather and dreading the impending summer heat, there are places in the north still locked in ice and freezing temperatures.  One such place is Ladakh, a region in the northern-most Indian state of Jammu and Kashmir. Located on the Tibetan plateau, north of the Himalayan mountains, Ladakh is a high-altitude desert - a land of barren mountains, narrow fertile valleys, long winters and subsistence agriculture. The people of this region are Buddhist and culturally identify more with Tibet than India. 

Although sparsely populated and remote, the Ladakh region is strategically important due to its proximity to Pakistan and China.  Leh, the main town of the area, hosts a massive Indian army presence, to the extent that the soldiers outnumber the townspeople. The Khardung pass, thought to be the highest motor-able mountain pass in the world, is only 40 km from Leh.  Despite an elevation of 5,359 meters, the pass is kept open all year by the Indian army.  The thought is that if the pass were ever to be snowed in, China and/or Pakistan would take the opportunity to invade, knowing it would be impossible for India to send reinforcements to the region.

Ladakh is a prime tourist destination in the summer, but is much less visited during the bitterly cold winter.  However our objectives for visiting Ladakh required cold weather.  So, clutching our down jackets about ourselves, our intrepid team of three flew to Leh in mid-February.  The mission was three-fold.  First, complete the Chadar River trek.  Second, see a snow leopard.  Third bonus mission: don't die.  I'm happy to report we accomplished two of the three.  Coming up:  The Chadar trek!

Buddha on the dashboard with the Ladakh landscape behind

Rural Ladakhi children