A few more miles to go

It was a pleasantly warm day in October in Spiti Valley. The sky was clear and deep blue and a gentle breeze carried with it the subtle aroma of rosebush flowers. Flocks of mountain finches hopped from bush to bush, gorging on sea-buckthorn fruits. I was driving through the winding-uneven mountain roads towards the Ullah gorge in the newly acquired field vehicle, a Mahindra Scorpio. The visibility was good and I was soaking in the beautiful vistas with mount Manerang at a distance towering over the undulating valley glittering in the morning sun. I was going to drop Sushil and Tenzin, two very capable field assistants to Keuling village, a base for Ullah gorge. The work entailed setting up two camera traps, one at the mouth of the gorge and another six kilometers inside the gorge.

View of a typical gorge in the Trans-Himalayas

Ullah is an extremely tough gorge to traverse through by any standards. The gushing and freezing cold water in the stream that flows through it forces one to keep away from the narrow base, while the steep slopes above offer scarce foothold. The gorge is largely narrow with slopes becoming almost vertical at a few places. Any mistakes while you are trudging slowly at a height of 100-200 meters over the stream with nothing but boulders and rocks to fall upon can be fatal. The mountains look beautiful and charming, but they are also unforgiving, the mistakes rarely go unpunished.

Seabuckthorn laden with fruits. Villagers in Spiti valley have refused to use it commercially because they believe it will deprive many birds of their natural food.

A survey I conducted in this gorge searching for snow leopard signs in the year 2010 had revealed the difficulties one has to face in this gorge. Though I was able to go upto 5 kilometers inside, the going was tough. There was hardly any place to camp, the snow leopard signs were scarce and just for covering 5 kilometers, I had to cross the water six times. In the late afternoon the water level rose higher, making it impossible to cross the water any further, which meant one had to carry camping gear and provisions for at least one night. When I returned the next morning, I had bruised my knees, my limbs were numb after crossing the waist deep chilly stream water and my spirits were low as I found few snow leopard signs in this gorge despite the tremendous effort. As I crossed the last one of the water channels, all of my team members had already crossed over and were putting back their socks and shoes to get rid of the biting cold.

A wide river bed with turquoise waters. The water is often bone chilling cold and serene flow deceptive of the actual force of such rivulets

Broken physically and mentally, I was slowly wading through the water without caring for the cold anymore. I was despaired at this unsuccessful exploration. This right bank of the Spiti river was important to cover as the left bank was covered nicely with camera traps whereas cameras on the right bank were sparse. But the left bank was also hopelessly difficult to access, only the gorges offering some access while presenting unique challenges of their own.

These thoughts were running through my head when the typical thatched flat roof houses of Keuling village started appearing signaling the arrival of our destination. Despite all the limitations, it was important that we placed camera traps in this gorge. Once we reached Keuling village, the rucksacks were checked for the essentials (torch, batteries, chocolates, dry fruits and noodles). The old and worn out sleeping bags, the most trustworthy companions on such trips were taken out and Sushil and Tenzin were ready to go. I briefed both of them, primarily about ensuring that they do not engage in any overzealous adventure inside the treacherous gorge. Based on my previous experience, I was confident that both would return by 9:00 am the next morning. Faring them goodbye, I returned to drop another team of two at another location.

A panoramic view of the beautiful Trans-Himalayas

Next day I reached Keuling at the scheduled pick up time of 9:00 am and was confident that they would have already reached. However there was no sign of either of them, and knowing their adventurous nature, I mused that they would have tried exploring the gorge further and might get delayed by another hour or two. Now it was 11:00 am, the sun was shining brightly over the valley and yet there was no sign of either of them. I was starting to get a bit nervous and decided to go to the mouth of the gorge, hoping that they would be on the way. One also gets the BSNL cellular signal upto about a kilometer inside the gorge. I kept trying their cellphones and eventually reached the mouth of the gorge, but Sushil and Tenzin were nowhere in sight. It was 12:15 pm and time was running out fast. I was worried that one of them might have been injured badly and the other one might not be ready to leave the person alone and come out. Several such gloomy thoughts were running through my head simultaneously. I called up Thinley at base camp at kibber (30 km away), told him what was happening and asked him to be ready with a few men, ropes and other gear. Then I ran to the car and sped away to Kibber to get other people of our NCF team to plan and mount a search operation. I was now genuinely worried about the safety of these two as morbid thoughts kept crossing my mind and I tried hard to ward them off with positive thoughts. I was also very hungry as I did not have had breakfast thinking that three of us will have it together at Kaza, the small tourist town and administrative headquarters for Spiti valley. I reached Kibber in about 45 minutes and promised myself that I would never drive as fast on these roads again. Ranjini my colleague, offered to come along, but I requested her to stay back at the base camp as she was to leave for Bangalore the very next day and we needed someone to be at the base if things went wrong and we needed more co-ordination and help. While Thinley and team were loading their gear in the field vehicle, I quickly grabbed some lunch and we rushed back to Keuling. It was beginning to get dark when we started our trek to the Ullah gorge in earnest.

Sunset in the Trans-Himalayas. A Buddhist prayer flag is visible in the foreground.

No sooner had we reached the mouth when two silhouettes appeared on the cliffs on the right and the distinct rucksacks gave away the identity of the silhouettes. All of us shouted with joy and rushed towards them. Both of them were perfectly all right but I was perplexed about what took them so long. Both these guys are very capable trekkers and I was expecting them to make it before time.
I asked Tenzin and he told me that they had reached almost the glacier point beyond which Pin valley begins. What was the need to go that far I asked, a bit annoyed now. Both of them pointed to the GPS device and told me that something was wrong with the device. I took it from their hands and was shocked to see that someone had changed the units from metric system and the GPS was reading miles instead of the expected kilometers. They had walked six miles, instead of six kilometers and that explained everything.

Tenzin then added ‘we walked on and on, but the distance reading on the GPS would barely change’ and I was wondering if something was wrong, but Sushil kept cheering me up with it might be just a few more miles to go.

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons license.

Shadows in the dusk: an eerie encounter with the mountain ghost

It was freezing cold inside the tent when Takpa opened the outer zipper. As I looked out of the sleeping bag, a blast of cold air hit me and I resolved to huddle back again. Whistling gleefully, he shoved in a mug of steaming black tea and went away. He knew my weakness for tea and knew that I would not deny a cup even at 4:30 AM. Within ten minutes our camp was buzzing with activity and by 5:30 AM two of our teams consisting of three people each were all set to leave after a quick breakfast of unsavory noodles and packed lunch of vegetable sandwich.

Spiti river with its turquoise, crisp water

We had a long day ahead and it made perfect sense to leave early to be able to return back to the camp before nightfall.  Each of the team had to find and deploy camera traps at three to four good locations with a direct distance of at least 6 kilometers between any two. Sushil and Tenzin accompanied me and we had a good head-start. The soft light of the morning sun brought much needed warmth and the marvelous mountain peaks emerged from the shadows, providing a scenic splendor that can only be experienced. Getting up early in the morning had its own little rewards I mused, as nature unfolded one treasure after the other. 

We started encountering snow leopards signs soon as we trudged along on a ridgeline. Full of scats, scrapes and scent marks, it was a good location to deploy a camera trap.

Signature of the ghost: snow leopard pugmark

Signature of the ghost: Snow leopard scat

Next we encountered a large group of about 70 blue sheep out of which we counted 25 yearlings. The pastures here seemed productive and blue sheep were doing well. Another two hours of walk brought us close to a dongri (a temporary summer settlement used for agricultural work) and another nice location to deploy a camera. All of us could smell the snow leopard scent on the rock and a portion had become dark with the consistent marking at the same site. Finally we reached the dongri and met the owner, an old man and a known face. Two years ago, when Sushil and I had lost our way in the mountains and reached this dongri just before dark, this old man had provided us with much needed shelter and food. He instantly recognized us and invited us in. We chatted for about an hour, sipped several cups of tea and ate barley mixed in butter and sugar. I ate the barley reluctantly as I didn’t like the taste very much. The old man quipped that I should be eating better given my age and the chatting continued. I ate a little more and we finally bid farewell and continued on our long journey. Little did I realize that the same barley would be a life saver that day by delaying the pangs of hunger. The third camera location took a long time to find and as we embarked towards the fourth, it was already 3 pm. 

A village in Spiti with Barley fields in the foreground

The base camp was still far away, but given our pace we were confident to make to the nearest village Demul by 8 pm. The camp was another 4-5 kilometers from the village. When we started encountering snow leopard signs again, I was happy that it would not be long before we found a good location. The narrow animal trail on the mountain slope lead to a deep gorge and the frequency of snow leopard signs increased as we moved further down. We could have deployed a camera trap here and moved back to our camp, but the gorge down looked too tempting and Sushil remarked that the gorge must be having some excellent snow leopard habitat. It was difficult to deny that and then the added allure of the possibility of encountering a snow leopard in a gorge was difficult to resist.

Soon we had left the trail aside and were climbing down the steep slopes of the gorge. With scarce foothold, it took much longer than expected, but we still reached the base of the gorge before it was dark. It was full of cliffs and rocky outcrops and our expectations for a great camera location and potentially a sighting were soaring high. However an hour of search proved futile and we could not find any snow leopard signs leave aside a sighting of a snow leopard. Eventually we decided to return back to the trail and place a camera there. It was already dark now and the steep uphill climb with dense thickets of caragyna was difficult to negotiate. Somewhere on the climb, we lost Tenzin and spent another 30 minutes searching for him. I feared for his safety, even though I knew he was an excellent climber and that I had more chances of tripping or slipping amongst our team members. It was a relief when my strained ears picked up the sound of a whistle coming from top. Tenzin had already reached the top and was waiting for us. The steep uphill climb after a day’s trekking took its toll and I was tired to the core.

Fading rays of the sun

Mount chochokanilta (>6000 meters) with its icy peak glistened in the distance even in the dark and its tall slumbering slopes dominated the broad sleeping valley. The stars twinkled brightly against a deep dark sky and occasionally a meteor would illuminate the sky momentarily leaving a blazing trail behind. It seemed as if nature was weaving some magic around, inducing a dream and a deep torpor, lulling me to stop and rest a while. I wanted to stop there and sleep, but we had a long way to go. We stopped by a stream to drink some water and eat what remained of our packed lunch. We had another fairly steep climb ahead. The biscuits and fresh water re-energized us and we started on the remaining part of the day’s journey. It was now pitch dark and with our headlights on, we trudged on at a slow but steady pace. This last part was proving increasingly difficult; the village was still good 2-3 kilometers of steep incline and my legs were refusing to move an inch. 

I stopped for some rest and Sushil and Tenzin joined soon. I stared at the slippery terrain ahead and across the gorge thinking of Takpa’s steaming mug of black tea and the comforts of a sleeping bag. Suddenly two eyes shone in the darkness and Sushil shouted snow leopard. In an instant we were running along the gorge to get a better view. I had forgotten that I was tired as I jumped recklessly from one ledge to the other. The cat hardly moved and we could not approach closer as it was separated from us by a treacherous gorge. In the combined light of three head torches and strained eyes stuck on binoculars, we could barely make out that it was a snow leopard. We spent about an hour watching the shadow and indistinct outline of the cat. I cursed myself for not having a long beam torch.

Future monarch of the mountains: A snow leopard cub

The excitement and adrenaline rush that the sighting provided was enough to push me up the steep incline and to the Demul village. The lights were off in most of the houses and an occasional incandescent lamp went off every now and then, further deepening the darkness around the sleepy village. Stray dogs barked at our unwelcome intrusion, while a lone donkey left out of the corral brayed loudly.

Surprisingly, a door opened in front of us and a generous villager invited us in for some tea and drinks. There was still another 4-5 kilometers to go and I chose the aarak (a local alcohol made from barley) over the bland milk tea. As I took the first sip, Tenzin remarked that the aarak was a bit sweetish and not the usual bitter and acrid. I did not answer as the strong liquor went down my throat leaving a trail of tingling and warm sensation along its path. But did the aarak actually taste sweeter that day? After our hazy encounter with the splendid snow leopard, I bet it did.

This work benefited greatly through support from Snow Leopard Trust, Snow Leopard Network, Whitley Fund for Nature, BBC Wildlife Fund, Panthera, Association of Zoo's and Aquariums and Himachal Pradesh Forest Department.  Their continued support for saving this magnificent cat, its mountain habitat and improving the livelihoods of communities sharing space with snow leopards is greatly appreciated.