Hi. Someone from here asked me to crosspost my diary here, originally it was posted in European Tribune, as was Part II and Part III.

This diary about my journey last october to one of the extremely remote places on earth – Ladakh. Lha Dags, the land of snow passes, is situated at the extreme north of Indian subcontinent and is separated from my temporary abode in Dharamsala only by mountain ridge. Yet there are not many people around who can boast they visited it – for this ridge is the Great Himalayan.

Himalayas from Likir gompa.
My close friend, one Kalmyk, who traversed in search of Enlightenment all lands of Inner Asia, from Mongolia to Nepal and from Dharamsala to Tibet, wrote me in september he was there, in Ladakh. I was trying to finish my assignment and could not immediately join him – only in the first days of october I took three connected flights of 1000s miles via Moscow and Mumbai (how inconvenient but there are no direct flights from Russian Far East to India) to reach Delhi. As usual I stayed in Tibetan village Majnu-ka-Tilla and thinking that Ladakh was out of question (at that time passes are supposed to be closed for about a month already) I booked bus ticket to Manali. To my surprise my neighbour was Nir, a Nepali cook from my Buddhist institute in Delhi – he was going with his friend Bhandari. Where? “To Leh, capital of Ladakh, to investigate opportunities to open a cafe next summer”. “But the road is closed, the winter had set in” – I wondered. “Not yet, we contacted our friends in Manali, jeeps are still running”. So I decided to join them whatever the consequences would be.
Our stay in Kullu valley was not long. Manali is overdeveloped hill station at the bottom of long narrow valley with frothing Beas river. This resort is overlooked by hanging snowfields of Solang Nulla. I was pleasantly surprised to find good hotels in Model Town near Tibetan gompa, much-critisized in Western guidebooks, most hotels have big balconies and windows with the views of Solang or pine forests on sharp slops of the valley. Though one can find a place to stay everywhere, in Vashisht on other side of Beas, along the woody Mall on the road to Hadimba temple and Old Manali village but for transport convenience I thought wisier to stay somewhere near bus stand. When my companions were searching for jeep to Leh I tried to use time in sightseeing – I went to Naggar to visit famous Roerich museum but overslept the road junction and went instead to noisy bazaar town Kullu. Whatever, Nepalis found a jeep and told me to be ready at 3 o’clock in the morning. This time I didn’t sleep for I was anxious and elated at the brink of the most memorable journey I was about to undertake.

Left – Kullu valley, right – evening in Manali.

It was jeep driver who overslept his time and we departed only at 4.30. But he started with vigour – he rushed the jeep on the dark serpentined road up to dreadful Rohtang pass with whistle even overtaking few jeeps and lots of gaudily decorated trucks – my heart seemed to stop without any yoga expertise. I didn’t understand we crossed the pass till he stopped at one Hindu shrine to give his donation – he prayed for he crossed it peacefully. Rohtang La is not high (3,978 m) by Himalayan standards but it’s subject to unexpected blizzards and gales (besides landslides), that’s why it takes yearly toll of human lives and vehicles. <Indian army is now constructing all-weather tunnel under it, and this year the road is closed.> Usually the pass is swarmed by Indian tourists from plains coming here to taste their first snow in life but at 5 o’clock in out of season the place was deserted.
We stopped at the check-post with lots of canteens for morning chai. I felt like I was inside a big tunnel with incredibly big mountains as its walls. Everything seemed so grand it was unbelievable. The road after Rohtang pass goes along Chandra river valley but this is too short an explanation to give you any idea what it is like. First of all there is series of lakes and glaciers, it looks like several giant gullies digged by celestial construction company. We passed boulder-strewn Sonapati glacier, then Sarkund lake. The celestial construction site is not supposed to have lush greenery but when it’s over one wonders where are the trees? Only patches of grass are seen. Peaks (including twin peaks of Gyephang) are towering like sentinels before abode of the Gods.
Lahaul is amazing – when you look at the map you would never know how it looks like. Essentially it is deep valley with little sunlight in the morning because of sheer scale of Himalayas from the north and Pir Panjal from the south. Scattered villages with flat roofed houses and several storeys gompas in typical Tibetan style lie on opposite side of the river. It’s better to go this road alone on chartered jeep as our vehicle didn’t stop anywhere where I was terrified by the vistas. Worse I took the right window seat in jeep and I missed most of Lahaul looking at mountain slopes. The road is very narrow and chasmes are deep to down 2 km to the valley. 2 – is very small number, it’s better to say 2000 metres to impress you. In one place we stuck because of fallen stony cornice squashed cabin of a colorful truck – lucky driver escaped jumping off but his vehicle blocked the road. We waited till another truck came and using rope drag the unfortunate truck off to wider place.
We didn’t stop for long in Keylang, administrative centre of Lahul district but I admired the location of this town – it is situated in one of the most beautiful places on earth, sandwiched between Great Himalayan ridges near the confluence of Chandra and Bhaga rivers. Curiously Lahulis are considered the wealthiest people in India for their narrow valleys produce finest potato in country. From the first look one cannot guess it.

Clockwise – somewhere on the road from Rohtang La to Keylang, Keylang, Darcha, on the road to Darcha.

We drove further the Manali Leh highway. The landscape became more barren, vegetation disappeared, deep ravines turned into sprawling deserts seen from winding serpentines of highway – sometimes after few hours I felt we are on the same slope of one mountain covering it back and forth trying to gain height or descend where slops become negotiable. Darcha, the last inhabitable place on the highway, is situated in magnificent river valley with two merging streams before triangular pyramids of peaks. My friends Nepalis felt like at home because in Nepal for example near Chinese border it’s the similar scenery. The checkpost I passed without difficulties as soldiers thought of me as local (as usual with my Asian look). We had tea in makeshift canteen, enjoyed views and take off on the road again.
On Baralacha La (4,883 m) paramilitary Border Roads Organization was maintaining the road – Manali Leh highway is open only from middle of July to beginning of October but it is of vital importance for Indian troops stationed in Siachen glacier north of Leh. The staff is certainly from plains, locals call them Biharis, the poorest of India’s poor but I am not sure as they uniformely black tanned under the relentless Himalayan sun. The work they do is admirable no doubt – astonishing how people from plains can adapt to such severe conditions where even oxygene is at premium.

Baralacha La, right – Bhandari, Nepali cook from my institute.

At Sarchu Serai we found several tents similar to our yurtas. Sarchu is located in round desert valley. I had lots of fruits like bananas in my handbag and offered them to hosts – Chang-pa, local nomads. At first they didn’t know how to react to the gifts, but soon their children were eating fruits. After Sarchu the road zigzags up in 21 hairpins – Gata loops – to Lachalung La (5,060 m), second pass on the road. This ascent is hardly for newcomers and for amateur mountain bikers – it’s rough.
We are already in Ladakh, part of Jammu and Kashmir state. Descent is going through incredible canyon looking like approaches to Petra (in Jordan). Some compare it with mini-Grand Canyon. Bus travellers usually miss it because of buses’ schedule, they ply this stretch of route in darkness. Restless winds carved rocks of canyon in weird fashion, several times I saw excellent natural arches.

Left – canyon near Sarchu, right – Lahaul valley.

Near Pang there is the army camp, the road pass it from the left side of the Tsarap river in some 300-500 m above the camp. The environment is harsh, nevertheless Indian soldiers were enjoying cricket even at this altitude. After crossing the river we drove into wide and long (5 km*40 km) Morey Plain at altitude of 4,700 m, which seemingly is not suitable for any forms of life. The somewhat boring ride ends in the ascent to the last and most formidable barrier on the way to Leh – Tanglang La (5,325 m). On the top, covered by snow, I asked to stop near small shrine with fluttering Buddhist flags – the thin air was almost without oxygene, it was difficult to breath. With shaking hands I made few photos of distant Ladakhi (it was actually Zanskar ridge) mountains covered by dark-grey clouds. I was disturbed and anxious like Frodo reaching mountain pass and looking at distant Mordor with its cragged gloomy peaks, frightful yet alluring. What I would find there? What I could expect? I didn’t know.

Clockwise – Sarchu Serai, Tsarap river, Tanglangla Pass, Morey plain.

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