In the company of snow-capped Himalayas, here is the roadway to heaven

The white-hot rays of the sun touched the high-altitude desert terrain with a sharp, silvery light. Craggy mountains had given way to more rounded snow-capped dunes, and although the thin air indicated we were really high up in the Himalayas, the other-worldly landscape seemed paradoxically flat. Then, we turned a corner. The Chandrabhaga River came into view dizzyingly far below, a blue-green ribbon bisecting the valley. “We’re close to Kunzum Pass now,” says our driver. “Wear your jackets and scarves, it’s going to get windy…” Soon we were at what seemed like the top of the world, marked simply by a chorten and prayer flags. This was Kunzum La, the charismatic pass at an elevation of 15,060 feet, which connects Lahaul and Spiti valleys. Mesmerised by the sight of the little piles of snow continually formed and destroyed by gale-force winds, I did what all travellers who come here do — tried to stick a coin on the wall of the temple. They say only coins stuck by true believers stay in place. Mine tumbled down instantly, but I didn’t care. This was the first high mountain pass I’d seen, and its sheer magnificence blew my mind, literally and figuratively. 

Thus began my fascination for the great Himalayan spurs on which travellers of yore once traversed from valley to valley for trade. More than the snowy terrain and icy winds, I was riveted by tales of endurance of the highest order that these passes demand from the people who reach them, in return for experiences never possible in lower altitudes. 

A small chorten

A year after my Lahaul-Spiti sojourn, whilst in Ladakh, we drove to Khardung La, gateway to Ladakh’s Shyok and Nubra valleys. At 17,582 feet above the sea level, this is one of India’s highest motorable roads. Crossing the snow line, we stopped to listen to the silence. In the endless expanse of snow around, the only sound was of the drip-dripping of snow in the hot sun that instantly froze into sword-like stalactites in the shade. This was an established route for Central Asian traders, who’d hike with their cargo of precious stones, hashish, tobacco and silk via Karakoram, the Place of Black Gravel to India. Today, the Pass is populated by jeeps and army truck convoys, as Khardung La is the only access to the Siachen glacier. The pass itself is completely covered in snow even in summer, and has a smattering of shops offering Maggi noodles and hot tea. I stood at the edge of the mountain, unable to gauge distance and depth because of the snow, thinking of the ancient travellers who passed this way. For them, reaching this height must have elicited the welcome thought that the going would be only downhill from here… Around me, prayer flags fluttered against their snowy backdrop, and I wondered aloud why every high mountain pass has a place of worship, be it a Buddhist stupa or a Hindu temple. 

The Kunzum La from a distance

“There are two reasons why,” said Tsering, our jeep driver. “Both Hindus and Buddhists believe that divinity resides in the highest reaches of the Himalayas.” More practically, he said, in the ancient times when travellers moved across these mountains on foot, these places of worship gave them place to rest and recuperate. Days later, en route to Pangong Lake, we ascended 17,590 feet to Chang La. Less frequented compared to Khardung La, this felt somewhat wilder, more dangerous. Falling rocks battered the roof of our jeep and Tsering said, “We must take Chang La Baba’s blessings at the top before going ahead!” So we stopped briefly at the Pass, as one shouldn’t overstay one’s welcome at such high altitudes. While we were at the top, the sun was suddenly blocked by clouds. Within minutes, temperatures plummeted. “Let’s go!” I said. But Tsering wouldn’t leave without paying obeisance to Chang La Baba. “The ever-present threat of Acute Mountain Sickness and the extremely changeable weather at these altitudes makes it imperative to invoke all possible divinities,” he said. 

The Chang La in Ladakh Photo: Gaurav Sharma

Meanwhile, back in the plains, I think of the next few high mountain passes I want to visit — Dungri La (18,399 feet) in the Nanda Devi Biosphere Reserve in Uttarakhand and Marsimik La (18,314 feet) in Ladakh. Perhaps Chang La Baba or Kunzum Mata will help me get there.

It is imperative to acclimatise, well before attempting to go to altitudes above 12,000 feet. Kunzum La is approximately seven hours driving distance from Manali. Khardung La and Chang La are one and two and a half hours drive, respectively, from Leh