Mountains, monasteries and vanishing trees: A journey via climate change

A nostalgic journey to Kalpa, Mane and Sangla reveals how climate change is remaking the landscape

More than 25 years ago, my teenage children and I had walked several days along the old Hindustan-Tibet road, connecting Himachal Pradesh with Ladakh. We stayed at mostly crumbling forest rest houses, whose location in the green hills and the vistas they offered were unparalleled. 

We had then driven to Kalpa and Sangla, on treacherous roads hacked through the solid rock at the beginning of frenetic hydropower development on the Sutlej river and its tributaries. 

The view of Kinner Kailash from Kalpa, then a lazy, laid-back village, was mesmerising at sunrise. At Sangla, we stayed in a tented camp on the banks of the Baspa river, with long daily walks in the adjacent forests and high meadows. 

Kinner Kailas at Sunset from Kalpa

 

One especially remembers a long stretch dense with Bhojpatra trees, whose barks were treated and used for inscribing sacred texts in ancient times. It is memories of that journey which spurred me to return to this fabled borderland of India. Over 10 days from May 9 to 19, I travelled to Kalpa and then to Mane, near Kaza, in Spiti valley and finally to Sangla, before heading back home via Shimla. Except for a few stretches, the highway network across Himachal is impressive. 

The hills around Shimla are now dense with apple orchards, but the trees are mostly covered by ugly plastic netting, to protect them against hail and a growing population of monkeys. A number of villages and hill towns, which are now connected with distant markets by the still-expanding network of highways, have become prosperous from the apple trade. 

Bharal Grazing on a hillside

 

Formerly small and subsistence villages, have grown haphazardly into congested urban settlements, with concrete and plastic replacing local materials and with no management of mounting heaps of urban waste. Improved connectivity and advertising through the internet have led to a boom in tourism and a mushrooming of homestays and guesthouses. Entire towns have grown around several large and medium hydropower projects. There were stretches of the Sutlej with meagre water flow. 

Kalpa village is now a popular tourist destination thanks to the breathtaking views it offers of the Kinner Kailash range. I reached my guesthouse late in the afternoon and was treated to an incredible view of the mountains at sunset. A walk through Kalpa took me past modern guesthouses but also quaint relics of an earlier time in the shape of wooden houses with slate roofs. The Narayan Nagini temple has some exquisite wood carving and has retained its traditional slate roof. Next door is a small but ancient Buddhist Gompa, associated with the Tibetan sage Rinchen Zangpo. He helped in the revival of Buddhism after a period of decline in Tibet. He was sent by Yeshe-O, the King of Guge in western Tibet to study Sanskrit in Vikramshila and translate authentic Buddhist texts into Tibetan. He is also credited with building the more famous monastery in Tabo. During the 10th and 11th centuries, Lahaul, Spiti, Ladakh and parts of Kinnaur were under the Guge kingdom and they retain the flavour of Tibet in art, culture and cuisine. 

Kinner Kailash seen through prayer flags at Sangla Kanda

 

From Kalpa I headed towards the village of Mane in Spiti. The road runs upstream along the Sutlej and then turns into the valley of the Spiti river, which is a major tributary of the Sutlej. This is dry and arid country with sparse vegetation but the snow-capped mountains frame the valley in a picture-postcard setting. Mane is a typical Spiti village where traditional stone and wood houses jostle with new concrete boxes advertising homestays. 

We drove through the village towards the ancient monastery of Dhankar. There is only a dirt track through a bleak and uniformly beige and brown landscape. In the distance, against the setting sun, our hotel appeared as a strange and alien apparition. This is the Doksa, a minimalist luxury property with only 10 rooms but with excellent service and imaginatively prepared meals. During the 4 nights I stayed at the Doksa, which is at an elevation of 3,650 metres, I undertook two separate day treks, one from Mane to Yangcho lake and back, and the other from the village of Lalung to Dhankar monastery, passing along the shores of the Dhankar lake. 

View on the Lalung Dhankar trek

 

View from the Highest Point on the Lalung Dhakar trek

  

The first trek was nearly 13 km long but with mostly gentle ascents. The second was shorter at 11 km but with a steep climb from about 3,650 metres to 4,300 metres and then an equally steep descent to the lake. On both treks I was accompanied by a local guide but did not encounter any other soul. The landscape was pristine and in the thin air one could see far into the distance. The beige of the lower hills gave way to the snow mountains in the distance. This was uncommon beauty, which compelled silent reflection. 

Dhankar Lake (Credit: Shyam Saran)

 

The lakes in the valley were another story. Yangcho lake had begun to dry about 5 years ago and was now reduced to a dark and soggy bowl. The mountain streams feeding it had all dried up. Dhankar lake had shrunk to less than half its original size in the past few years. It would probably cease to exist in a few years’ time. One can see how climate change is remaking the landscape. Each year the mountains have less snow, the rivers less water and the springs sink deeper into the earth. 

Old Palace of Dhankar

 

My last stop was Sangla on the Baspa river, another tributary of the Sutlej. What had been an isolated tented camp before was now a proper hotel and a cluster of small villas. The quaint little village of more than 25 years ago is now a sprawling town, densely packed with guesthouses and homestays. 

Baspa River at Sangla 

Another View of Kinner range from Sangla Kanda

 

We were now on the other side of the Kinner Kailash range from Kalpa. During my stay in Sangla I was able to undertake a 7 km trek along the Baspa river from the village of Batseri to Raksham. Unlike Spiti, this is lush green country with the snow mountains towering over the valley. But I could not find the forest of Bhojpatra trees that had fascinated me on my first trip to Sangla. Only an occasional specimen appeared among the cedars and maple trees. 

Snow-capped peaks near Komic monastery

 

A back breaking journey in a 4-wheel drive took me one morning to the high-altitude meadows of Sangla Kanda, from where the high mountains of Kinner Kailash appear to be within touching distance. 

Meadows at Sangla Kanda

 

During this 10-day trip, I had occasion to visit the celebrated monasteries of Tabo, Key and Komic, each a treasure house of incredible art and precious relics. They date back to the 10th and 11th centuries. The small Lalung monastery, also from the same period, was built like a mandala, with images and frescoes remarkably well preserved. These deserve a separate essay with photographs of their artwork that is a precious legacy of the sustained encounter, through history, between India and Tibet. 

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  The writer is a former foreign secretary and an avid trekker