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A Frozen Moment in Time
Zanskar is
situated in Ladakh, north western India with the Karakoram Mountains and the Kuen
Lun ranges to the north, the Great Himalayan Range and the Himachal Pradesh to
the south and with the Indus River flowing through the central region. During
the summer the course of the Indus can easily be seen as a lush green swath
passing through an otherwise vast sandy desert of golden granite dust. It is
around the Indus that the majority of Ladakh’s population live at an elevation
of 3000m to 4570m. With its stark remote mountains and valleys interspersed
with ancient monasteries and a medieval way of life it is of little surprise
that Ladakh attracts a wide range of visitors all of whom have a different
reason for visiting the region. The Zanskar Valley lies to the south-west of
Leh and comprises of the two main tributaries of the Zanskar River, the Marka
River and the Khurna River with its source 230 miles away in the Greater
Himalayan Range. The course of the Zanskar River is hemmed into a deep gorge by the bordering
mountain ridges and peaks of approximately 4700mts - 5500mts in height, as the river runs at an
altitude of 3500mts, it is, for the majority of the winter, in the dark cold
shadows.
Ladakh was at
one time a province of Tibet and under the control of the Lamas of Lhasa, later
the area was directly controlled by the Ladakhi kings. The most impressive
building in Leh is the Old Palace, this was built in the time of Sengge
Namgyal, who ruled as King from 1616 to 1642 and who generated much wealth from
the taxes imposed on traders traveling the Silk Road between Kashmir and
Tibet. Sengge was well known for building many of the famous monasteries in the
area and for renovating other religious buildings. Leh is the capital of the
district and has long been the regional trading center with merchants traveling
through the town from Kishtwar, Zanskar, Kulu, Lahul, Spiti and Srinagar, even
with the new road and airport Leh is still the focal point of the region. Sadly
in today’s political uncertainty the
area is also a major army base.
Being such a cold region for six months of the
year agriculture is difficult and industrialization almost impossible so the local
people survive off tourism and promoting the regions unique natural beauty.
However in winter Leh remains closed down with only a few hotels open for those
foreigners who brave the penetrating cold.
During the
winter the high Zanskar passes, roads and other trade routes are blocked by
snow and particularly inhospitable climatic conditions. For the people of
Zanskar their only option is to walk in and out along the frozen Zanskar River,
however, this is only possible when the river is at its coldest, around January
and February when temperatures drop to -30°C. Traditionally this route was used by local butter traders taking
their wares to the Leh, but now it is a popular route with trekkers and locals
guides and porters who are keen to earn a winter income.
In 1977 the English anthropologist James
Crowden became the first non Ladakhi to venture into the inner frozen depths of
the Zanskar Gorge but it was not until probably 1990 that this trek was
repeated by a British party lead by Steve Berry although by now people had
heard about the frozen Zanskar Gorge and there were several other foreigners
who had managed to traverse its length to Padam and back. At that time trekkers would enter the gorge from near Chilling.
I already knew
about the ‘Zanskar Frozen River trek’ by the time I first visited Ladakh. On
returning to Leh from a Marka Valley trek I took the opportunity to peer into
the depths of the gorge. What I saw then was both frightening but at the same
time alluring. In the summer there is no ice and during that particular year
the summer season had been subjected to an unusually heavy storm with serious
flooding, the possibility of this ragging river ever freezing seemed a distant prospect.
However, eleven years on and after a few days acclimatising in Leh, my
wife Sarita, myself and a few friends set off in search of good Zanskar ice in
the company of three local guides Tsewang
Namgyal, Lobsang
Otzer and Kunsang and seven
porters.
A short drive to Nimu took us to the confluence
of the Indus and Zanskar Rivers, the road from there to the road head then went
from a good Indian highway to a road in the making. On past Chilling, then the
junction with the Marka Valley and another hour, but that seemed like an
eternity, to the end of the road and the start of the trekking. The road makers
of India are trying to push a road up the Zanskar Valley in an effort to get
the few higher communities linked into the rest of Ladakh, a mammoth task and
one that I guess will need constant revisiting as every year landslips are
bound to set progress back by months. But in these times of climate change who
knows how long the ‘freezing’ conditions will allow such a route to be passable?
Alternatives and modernization is required or the whole district will become
derelict as villagers look towards Leh or other larges towns with modern facilities for a permanent home.
The first night’s camping was on the frozen river’s bank. Just as we got
into camp the clouds rolled in and the snow started, this was eventually to be
a blessing in disguise. Next morning we got into the routine of what was going
to be ‘6, 7 and 8’, six o’clock wake up, seven o’clock breakfast and on the ice
by eight o’clock. During the evening we watched as local boys were passing up
and down the river towing loaded ‘local’ sledges. Some sledges were stacked with
the trekking gear belonging to absent clients who were still skating around on
the ice out of sight. Other sledges were piled high with fire wood collected
along the way. The locals are totally adapt at racing up and down the ice, in
control, pulling their loads and in what appeared to us to be in perfect
balance and when necessities occur the sledges become ‘framed’ back-packs that
can be carried round impassible sections of the rapidly flowing river.
The initial days on
the ice were spent developing the ‘Zanskar Shuffle’, moving forward, or at least
in the intended direction, sliding, balancing and learning how to fall
resulting in the least amount of bruising, a skill some of the party gave up
trying to master very early on and resorted to wearing foot-chains or
Yak-Tracks as they are sometimes known. As for our young and accomplished
‘ice-walkers’ nothing phased them, they would have races between themselves,
hitch rides on the sledge in front,
until discovered by the towing machine and in the evening the would play ice hockey or Frisbee
until it was too cold then they would withdraw into the depths of their smoky cave
for the night.
The lower stretches of the gorge are reasonably open and not too
menacing. Every now and again a small beach would come into view or at least
there would be a scree cone created by the previous season’s high water. In
places the ice was a clear cyan colour and you could see right through to the
rushing water below, the only means of gauging the depth of the ice, for us, was by the estimated vertical height of the
stress fractures, but on average the ice must have been at least eight to
24 inches thick. However, there were places where the ice was non-existent. The
locals use a staff to tap the ice, the sounds indicated the thickness to the
trained ear and by sweeping the staff in a wide arc they can feel the surface
texture, impressive skills as they seem to do it as second nature.
As we progressed higher up the gorge the walls
began to close in and it seemed that we were just tiny beings seeking out a
temporary existence in the depths of the earth. In places the ice was stepped
down the sides of the cliffs indicating the drop in water level as the freeze
had taken hold, but I was confused by just how much variation there was in the frozen water levels. In some place the not inconsiderable difference between the initial freeze
and the level of ice on the day was marked by small path ways rather like a
series of terraces and great care had to be taken in choosing the correct line,
descending even the slightest slope in Zanskar trekking ‘wellies’ is not the
easiest skill to master and the run out of any potential fall could be, at
best, painful or cold and wet, but at worst, terminal as you would end up in
the fast flowing Zanskar and washed under the lower ice shelf.
As
the days passed and the gorge walls got steeper and closer together the
prospect of finding actual direct sun light was always enthusiastically
awaited. The boys had the route well ‘sussed’ and lunch would always appear on
a sunny but tiny beach, or at least on a flat rocky outcrop. Camping in such
cold conditions is an art, the ‘art of insulation’ from the cold below, a cold
that creeps into every bone and joint of your body as the night wears on.
Sometimes ‘8’ could not come soon enough!
Eventually we reached Nyeraks, two thirds of the way up the gorge on the way
to Padam. We climbed up the river bank towards the camping area. I was
surprised to see so many people, trekkers as well as members of the army and
police force. I really hadn’t expected such a crowd in view of the previous
nights’ locations. Trekkers were standing round in little huddles holding
steaming cups of hot drinks and chattering, the locals were rushing about
preparing meals while others were pitching tents. As we got into the rhythm of
things I met a guiding friend, Kaushal Desai from Manali who had a group of Austrians with
him. While talking to them I learned what all the commotion was about and some
of my previous ‘concerns’ were answered.
A few weeks earlier there had been a big
landslip higher up the valley system and it had dammed the river, hence my
curiosity over the dramatic drop in water level as indicated by the ice steps
was answered. But another question immediately came into my mind, ‘what had
happened to all the water that should have been flowing down the gorge?’ The
answer was slightly more worrying, ‘it’s formed a 5 kilometer lake upstream of
the dam’. My initial reaction was fairly
calm as I felt that if this was a serious situation then surely the powers that
be would fly everyone out in helicopters. No one in their right mind would
descend back into a gorge with no escape routes and with the possibility of the
dam up-stream breeching! The gorge had been closed because of a perceived
danger so everything for an evacuation must be in hand. But no! Everyone was told to
turn tail and descend the gorge back the same way except, I would suspect, for
most people a little concern, if not panic, had entered their mind. It was time
for dinner and a group discussion. The outcome of which was a modified ‘5, 6, 7’
approach, an early start and then descend; quickly!
The descent went a lot quicker than the ascent
as would be expected under the circumstance and was incident free. The snow
that fell at the start of the trek had formed a crust over the ice in many
places and this gave additional security of foot placements and people were
moving faster having developed their ‘Zanskar Shuffle’ technique to a high
level of proficiency, but still not up to local standards. As time moved on I
was getting use to the ice and was able to tell where there would be greater
friction, the texture and reflection of light gave a big clue to the security
of the next pace, but I must admit on the penultimate day gravity won on too many occasions and I too resorted to foot
chains!
This is a unique trek in a wild and remote area of the world, do it now
before modernization and climate change take away the magic of the area and the mystic of the gorge.
I should like to thanks all those who accompanied us on the ice, Sarita, Pat and Muff, Kirsten, Divya and Julie, their congenial company and constant laughter kept the cold at bay and of course all the boys without whom I guess life would have been a lot harder! Finally thanks to Luke Smithwick for putting the Leh team in place for us.
Ian Wall January 2015
Ian Wall January 2015
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