The Baltistan village of Turtuk, Ladakh

Turtuk is about as close as you can get to Pakistan in India, physically and literally. This delightful village is crunched into the narrowing Shyok River valley in the furthest corner of India, right at the tippy-top of the map. Only when the Indo-Pakistan war ended in 1971, Turtuk (together with 5 other Balti villages) was then included within the Indian line of border control. It remained off limits until 2 years ago and keeping it well off the the beaten track.  It was perhaps one of the nicest ways to end this trip, as Turtuk was in every sense a treat – culturally intact, untainted by tourism and simply delightful.

The region of Baltistan falls within the Karakorum range, K2 being the highest peak, only 100 odd kilometres down the road. Once again stark arid scree littered mountains dotted with splashes of green villages punctuate this striking landscape.

The people of Turtuk are every bit as beautiful as the region. Although classified as Ladakhi's they are Balti in every sense, the 'tribe' that typifies this alluring region where the world's 2nd highest mountain is literally a stones throw away.

Turtuk is around 160km from Leh, a good 8hrs by car (although we part-cycled) and is at a lower altitude, somewhere around 3000m, evident for the great variety and abundance of crops, peaches in particular and a variety of wheat (in the foreground). Villagers proudly boasted that 'in Turtuk we can plant at least 2 crops of wheat per season,' (unlike anywhere else in Ladakh!')

Welcoming committee: On arrival we were greeted by a friendly little team - Ama-le who had been busy in the wheat fields with her daughter and a team of cheeryl children who had made flags out of maggi noodle packets.

We made our way through a myriad of cobbled walkways to the only true Homestay in town - Homestay Rangyoul owned by Hussein a young local from Turtuk who had a wealth of knowledge and information to share about his village.

Delightful in every sense, once again the Ladakhi/Balti 'town' planning was simple, sustainable and inspiring. Flowering fields of wheat and the sweet smell of drying apricots in the air with the idyllic sound of rivers in full flow.

As with other Ladakhi/Balti villages glacial melt water is channeled through the village in an elaborate series of channels. A use for everything is found - flattened barrel now used as a door for closing off the household courtyards.

Hodge-podge of homes, note all the apricots drying on the roofs.

We were once again proudly told, that Turtuk was famous throughout India for is fabulous apricots. No less than 7 varieties and the sweetest in the country. I concur that these are the best apricots I have ever tasted!

Friendly high school girls cutting grass for their sheep and goats.

Balti baby bonnet!

The last of a great empire: We were honored to meet the Yagbo Modh Khan, the direct descendant from King of Western Turkistan that ruled over this area (called Baltistan Chorbat) for over 1000years (800AD - 1800BC). Turtuk was a central village and place for the king, today Modh Khan lives in the remnants of his home and has his own private museum of family artifacts over the ages. A proud historian himself he has written up the history of his village and compiled the family tree from a cloth version that was passed from generation to generation. What welcoming and humble man, sadly he writes 'Turtuk was the centre of language and tradition, after the liberation from Pakistan in 1971 the people have become ignorant of their own culture. Traditional music and dance have faded from their minds, the don't spare the cultural and traditional ways'.

'Is that your grand-daughter?'. 'No' Yagbo Modh laughed, 'this is my one and only daughter, I married very late'. I felt happy to have met this wonderful man who had documented so carefully the history of his life and village of which he was so proud.

Four generations - Abi-le invited me to have some tea and apricots in their courtyard.

..and Amaa (mother)

...and Daughter, who was due to have her own baby in 3mths time.

Children in Turtuk were very eager to have their photos taken, many of whom had never had the opportunity to see a photo . Once back in Leh I made copies and post to Hussein from our homestay to distribute.

First language is Urdu, then Hindi and some Ladakhi. Most also knew some smatterings of English too.

Everyone was so very friendly and seemed to be enjoying the visitors. This little boy from our homestay was happily passed round and round to everyone.

More amazing apricots. When the kernel is cracked open, a delicious nut (almond) is an added treat. Tartuk also boasts its own apricot juice factory, slightly horrified at the thought of a factory in this idyllic setting, I was relieved to encounter the factory: 'a one man and machine show', that pitted, pressed and packed apricots into the most delicious juice. Available throughout Ladakh, not bad for local exports!

Friendly grandad

Sweet schoolgirls.

Looking toward Pakistan: Apricot trees and blue skies, what a privilege to have visited Turtuk. Interestingly the border and 1st village in Pakistan is just less than 3km away, and is obviously home to many relatives of Turtuk. However in order to visit their family in Pakistan they will have to take at least a 5 day journey of back-tracking: all the way across across Ladakh to the plains India, entering Pakistan in Peshawer and climbing all the way back over the Himalayas and up the Skardu valley!

Those curious camels

While down in the Nubra valley, we spied a herd of those curious bactrian (double humped camels) munching on seabuckthorn berries close to another curiosity, a sea of sand dunes. Typically these camels are native to the central steppes of Asia, mainly Mongolia and Kazakstan. Apparently the Nubra valley formed part of the old trade routes between China and India, when this route collapsed, herds of the camels were left abandoned in the region and regained their wild habits, before being re-tamed once more, 15 odd years ago as an attraction for tourists.

Very obliging and photogenic. Keep at a distance, the breath is baaad!

Back legs, buns and curious Dr Seuss furry towers.

Stately gait.

A hint of a smile. Personally I just loved the fuzzy hairdo and the woolly knees.

Pat pat, pet pet, Carlos makes friends.

The Bactrians were hanging out in the truly beautiful spot at 3000m: alongside the braided Nubra river bound by bizarre barchan dunes just outside the village of Hundar.

and off they sauntered into the seabuckthorn forest...

The Nubra valley

The large, desert valley of Nubra is formed by the meeting of the Shyok and Siachen rivers. This wide, high altitude valley separates the Ladakh and the Karakorum ranges and is accessed by the 5600m Khardung-la pass. Having cycled up the Khardung pass three times over the past years I have never managed to descend the pass into Nubra. This time however, I could finally continue down the ‘other side’ to the most northern extent of Indian Himalayas that is still within legal reach (bordering with Pakistan and Tibet).

First views of the Nubra villages descending from the 5600m Khardung-la.

The majority of the Ladakhis living here are Buddhist with a minority of Shia and Sunni Muslims. (Diskit monastery).

Nubra is 150km from Leh and is typified by stark contrasts of barren landscapes splashed with green and yellow of the glacial fed, wheat and barley fields.

Ben makes way for wheat and barley loaded yaks in Khardung village.

'Himalayas' rise like fortresses on all sides. A superb downhill all the way down to the Shyok river.

Road safety is of utmost importance on such descents.

Views back toward the Khardung pass we had just crossed (Khardung village in the distance).

Ben and Carlos stop for yet another amazing view.

Overlooking the Shyok River which originates from Pangong Tso, a 5000m lake shared by India and Tibet. See more on Pangong Tso here http://bridgetsbikeblog.wordpress.com/2009/09/29/along-the-indus/

Biscuit break for everyone at Khalsar, the first village we found along the Shyok.

A rare rainbow on the way to Diskit, one of the larger villages in Nubra.

The 35m Maitreya Buddha that sits below Diskit monastry looking toward Pakistan. The Dalai Lama unveiled the Buddha in 2010 when it was completed.

Diskit monastry door.

Views over the vast confluence of the Shyok and Siachen rivers from the monastery.

Watch your step!

Monks of the monastery.

Prayer wheel view toward Hundar village.

Climbing Stok Kangri (6130m)

Stok Kangri (6130m),  literally translates as ‘snow-peak  of Stok village’. The peak is a perfect A-line that ‘watches over’ Stok  some 3000m below.  It is regarded as one of the easiest 6000m peaks in the Indian Himalayas, a trekking peak to be precise. Not one for heights, ice and on the-edge-kind-of-stuff, the suggestion to climb it didn’t seem like such a bad one considering it is regarded as ‘easy’. Besides this gave me an opportunity to beat my highest climbed altitude to date:   Huanya Potosi at 6080m in Bolivia which I managed on my pan-american bike trip some years back.

Stok Kangri, the highest peak on the right joins many others that make up the Zanskar range. A stones throw from Leh, tackling a 6000m peak couldn't be made more accessible.

Interestingly Stok, is also the home of the unassuming Ladakhi royalty who live in a comparatively modest palace.

Typically it takes at least 2- 3 days to get to the high base camp, following the river valley past Stok. As we were well acclimatised we pushed through to base-camp at 5000m in one day.

The small details like these striking rose-hips always catch my attention.

The hike itself is nothing short of stunning, we made our way up wine coloured scree strewn slopes with sedimentary rocks tossed in impossible directions making up the mountains.

This is a well beaten track. Overburdened pony caravans supporting trekking and climbing groups just goes against my grain.

I had to look hard, but I did find more fascinating and unique high altitude flora.

Stok Kangri looms into view.

Wanting to go a light as possible we opted for hopefully finding floor space in the very basic base camp dhabba seen in the background. Lucky we did! Carlos had felt bad for the final few kilometres, admittedly he had a very heavy pack, but this was also definitely a dose of altitude sickness. (Mike, Alex, Ben and Carlos).

Fortunately we all squeezed into this dingy dhabba. We were more than delighted considering the only other option was sleeping out under the stars, which even during summer would be way too chilly for me.

Expecting to spend one day 'resting' at the base camp, we all woke up feeling good despite the oxygen deprived air which were made worse by the kerosene stove that burned all night. Carlos had also recovered. Karma our guide suggested that we head for the summit as conditions were so perfect. We set off at 8am unlike the rest of the sheep who all got up at the ridiculous hour of 2am, completely over the top for this hiking peak. Of course out of the mainstream season it would be a different story.

One glaciar to cross, crampons weren't essential, but fun to try out!

Glacial crossing to the base of a never-ending scree slope which then took us to the ridge line which appears so very close in this photo.

Alex taking a break - after an endless slog we made it to the ridge line. A very satisfying view!

With Karma our guide. Karma is a first generation Tibetan in Ladakh, his parents fled Tibet in the late 50's to the little Tibet.

Following the ridge line to summit, looks fairly straight forward. There were of course a few gnarly scrambley bits, but even I managed these. We were exceptionally lucky to have such perfect warm, wind-free and cloudless conditions.

Ben in between mid summit vomit, poor guy literally puked his way to the top. Despite feeling 100% lousy his determination was nothing short of impressive. And he even managed to grimace for this photo!

Prayer flags adorn the kangri (snow peak).

By 1pm after 5hrs of heavy breathing Ben and I are on the tippy top!

Karma takes this 6130m peak in his stride - he has summited this kangri 20 times this season! Carlos undresses in his semi altitude delirious state. Actually conditions were spectacular, not a breathe of wind and its was warm enough for just a t-shirt!

Leh lies far below (upper left), Stok village immediately beneath (Rt side), a 360 degree sea of desert peaks surround us. 7000m snow peak breaks through the horizon - the Karakorum and Zanskar ranges were in full view.

Stok Kangri summit (6130m). It's hard to describe the feeling of being so high and having made it under your own steam.

Not forgetting the other Passes

Sometimes I do get a little carried away with all the wonderful details, like the villages or the flowers along the sides of the roads, forgetting that I wouldn’t have discovered these wonders, had I not pedaled over the passes which make Ladakh so impressive,( in)accessible (depending on how you look at it!) and alluring. Besides, I never finished the set of posts I was to complete on these majestic passes that punctuate the Manali-Leh Highway. So here they are!

The approach up the Taglang-la, also referred to the highest motorable pass (5330m) on the Manali-Leh highway. This very gradual looking climb will leave you gasping and groaning up every one of the oxygen deprived 17 kilometres.

Feeling on top of the world, Benjamin and I are pretty pleased that it's all downhill from here. It was a triumphant moment for us to have shared the exhilaration and thrill we both get from cycling and then reaching the top of this one! (especially that Ben is like my younger brother)

The Taglang-la (5300m). 'Unbelievable is it not it?' reads one of the roads signs

Hard not to take these kinds of pics - not often that you get this high on pure human power!

Photos never do justice to the enormity of Himalayan landscapes. Despite the urge to whizz down the other side not breaking, Viv and Caroline take a few minutes on the way down to appreciate the scale.

The 'bottom' of the pass and they couldn't have said a truer word. I think SA roads dept could take a few signage tips from these guys.

....and finally the Khardung-la, famously known as 'the highest motorable road in the world' at 5600m. Actually more like 5400m, none the less its way up there and may not be higher than a pass in Tibet, but the Khardung actually goes somewhere useful - the Nubra Valley on Tibetan/Pakistan border. This photo is taken on the ascent about 8km into the 40km slog, my 3rd time and possibly my last time on a bike!

Experiencing weather at these heights is to be expected. Here Mike battles on through the final kilometres in freezing hail stormy conditions!

Its hard not to be weeping in joy and relief after 5 tough hours of pedaling over one of the highest roads, on the largest mountain range on earth, and in particularly tough conditions. There is something quite humbling in the achievement. Carlos hugs Caroline in celebration.

Putting the feat into perspective: only 6 out of our group of 12 completed the challenge - Mike, Alex, Charles, Carlos, Caroline and Ben (I have to admit that this time I didn't make it and lost interest half way up)

Views into the beckoning Nubra valley (on the other side of the Khardung-la pass)

Himalayan villages: Chumikgiarsa at 4000m

Chumikgiarsa is situated along the wide sarchu plains just after the dhabba stop of Sarchu. It is however mostly viewed from a distance as the wide stepped river and plain keep it at more than an arms length. For the past 2 years I have always been very curious to visit this village that would appear as little dots of houses along a beautifully eroded river plain step. This year we fortunately spent a rest day on the sarchu plains which enabled me and a few of the more energetic others to find the bridge and hike the 1hr30 to this typical Ladakhi village which is possibly in one of the most remote areas along the Manali Leh highway. It is only accessible by foot and it would still take the villagers at least most of the day to get to the nearest town (Keylong).

Chumikgiarsa village as seen from the Manali-Leh Highway, although it looks relatively close to get to, it requires back tracking to the one and only bridge, and then an hour and a bit hike. (Although the river looks possible to cross, I can assure you it isn't we investigated that option!)

We walked alongside the beautifully braided river, highlighted with illuminous green moss. Despite the intense aridity springs sprung from the rocks and is essentially the reason why Chumikgiarsa was built along this ancient flood plain.

Tenzin and her daughter Padme were washing clothes in a wooden bucket outside her simple, mud brick house when she stopped to greet us and invited us in for tea.

Tenzin's simple and functional adobe house. Note the dry composting toilet in the foreground

Baby Padme. Her amaa served us tea and also offered us some biscuits, a humbling gesture from someone who has so little in material terms. It was clearly the only form of provision she had on the shelf apart from staples like tsampa (barley).

A wooden pail for collecting water and milking yaks. Barley fields in the background are irrigated by elaborate channels of glacial melt and spring water.

Another typical homestead in the village of around 16 households. Juniper and brush are collected during the summer months and stored on the flat roofs for winter fuel and insulation.

An almost self sustaining village, all houses are built with locally made sun dried mudbricks.

Some of the few imports or rather oil barrels dumped and left behind by the road builders. A use for almost anything can be found, here they are used as a barrier to keep the sheep in during the night.

Dear Dom Dom Namgyal spotted us from his fields and ambled along to come and greet us. He proudly showed us his gatherings of seabuckthorn berries and was very keen to be photographed even pulling out his tourquoise beads around his neck so that they could be seen. Note his yak skin boots.

Caroline shows him the photo. I look forward to returning next time and handing him his own printed copy.

Beautiful summer flowers amongst the barley and wheat, these channels made by the villagers, often cover many kilometres for irrigation purposes.

Another use for the old oil barrels, diverting channelled water!

....and my favourite of them all, a sled made from an old barrel. Hard to believe that the villagers live here all year round at 4000m, the winters must be truly freezing and the highway is closed - Chumikgiarsa is isolated completely.

Each house has its own composting toilet, a very simple yet effective way of dealing with human waste. The dry conditions result in a rapid breakdown of the waste rendering it useful for the next spring when the night soil is used on the fields. Absurdly water borne sanitation has crept into the main towns, a completely unsustainable polluting solution in an extremely water scarce part of the planet.

Sustainable technologies like this greenhouse are appropriate and enable to growing period for leafy vegetables to be extended by another six weeks. Solar cookers and water heaters are seen in some of the villages nearer to the main towns.

Post pea harvest. Nothing is wasted, even these pea husks are stored and kept for animal fodder during the long winter.

Threshing round, once the wheat and barley have been harvested, yaks are tethered to the stick and stamp the seed free from the husk. The growing season is only 4mths long, all Ladakhis are able to grow everything they need to keep them going for the next 8mths.

Village children entertain themselves with vivid imaginations - no toxic disposable plastic toys to be found!

What a privilege to have had a glimpse into not too often visited, Chumikgiarsa, humbling and inspirational.

Himalayan villages: Old Manali

One of my favourite things about bike trips is that access to small, quaint and often forgotten about villages is a daily occurrence as you aren’t simply whizzing by in the bubble of a bus and can stop at any point to meet the ‘real’ people. Old Manali and surrounding villages offer some interesting insights into the daily lives of tribes of Himachal Pradesh. The other nice thing is that you actually don’t need a bike to get to them, just a good pair of walking legs and an umbrella!

Only a little walk away from the tourist main street lies the 'real' old manali, which interestingly few tourists actually ever get to. A series of quaint villages built onto the valley slopes of the Beas river are a delight to explore and are once again a lesson in sustainability. This village was a lovely 5km cycle along a bumpy road past waterfalls and apple orchards.

A typical homestead of old Manali. Finely hand carved wooden balconies and slate stoned roofs all with a stone courtyard for washing, threshing, playing, fixing bicycles and tethering animals

Upstairs is residential and downstairs for the animals and storing food for the winter

Almost every home has its own handloom for weaving the famous shawls of the Beas valley

I love all the nooks and crannies in these villages, all sorts of interesting artifacts, junk and these traditional instruments lie around waiting to be discovered.

Side by side, modern with traditional - sometimes its not only the cows that are parked in the courtyards.

The design is always so practical - roof tops for storing and drying things out on, as well as support for a rambling pumpkin plant. Wood neatly stacked for the freezing snowy winters.

Apart from the terraced fields and apple orchards on the outskirts of the village, each homestead has its own vegetable garden for quick and easy access to some greens.

Special attention is given to the details around the doorways.

Besides being favourite socialising spots, the balconies make excellent 'under cover' clothes lines particularly during the summer which are typically very wet and humid. Note the more modern and favoured concrete style houses in the background which are slowly replacing the traditional ones.

...and such cherubic children and friendly villagers!

No words for this angelic Manali munchkin!

What more could a cow ask for - Manali is superbly green and lush all summer long! (Note the swastika is an ancient symbol for good luck which seen in many places all over India, unfortunately stigmatized when it was adopted by the nazis.)

Himalayan Hounds revisited

I consider myself to be a dogmother. No matter how pedigreed or ‘mongrolled’ a dog, I simply cannot resist giving those I meet en route, a little TLC. This usually entails a good pat, dog chat and something to eat. I often wish I had a stash of Hills dog food stowed away in my bar bag, but good old local Indian biscuits are always happily woofed back. Its not just ‘dog’ biscuits, I am always collecting everyone’s leftovers from lunches, dinner or breakfasts into my ‘doggy’ bag. So if its a good day it could be a couple of boiled eggs and chapati or some french toast for whatever hound I should meet along the lonely, Himalayan highways. Interestingly most of them look in pretty good shape, surviving off the trash, that’s in the towns of course. If there aren’t any towns to scrounge off, life must be truly hard as there really isn’t much nutrition above 3000m. One thing is for sure, these hounds aren’t fussy and are vegetarians (not out of choice of course!), possibly even enjoying chillies, as all Indian food is always heavily spiced!

A reincarnation? Just before we left for India I was very sad to loose a dear friend Noche Sanchez, a very handsome black lab, and a year before him, Noche's friend Oso Sanchez, a short brown dog. While enjoying a fabulous sandwich at the German Bakery in Manali, this little guy befriended me and ended up with half my sandwich. There was something more significant: he was a combination of both Noche and Oso - short and sleek, so I called him Noso!

How could anyone possibly ignore such cuteness? He earned himself a packet of Good Day butter biscuits!

After a blissful descent down Rohtang pass, we stopped for our lunchboxes at Koksar police check-point. I skulked around waiting for the groups leftovers and was happy to collect 3 boiled eggs which I duelly popped into this astonished old boy's mouth!

In the middle of almost nowhere, this dear young female was so happy to just have a pat and some kindness shown. I worry what happens once the dhabba at Bharatphur closes down in the winter...

She wanted to join me but was too afraid to cross this bridge which made a loud clanging whenever anyone crossed it

Most dogs in India are strays, some however are 'pets' but in a very different sense. This poor pup lives in a remote village on the Sarchhu plains and is unfortunately chained up next to the composting toilet for most of his life.

We were joined by snowy and her handsome friend at our campsite in Pang.They enjoyed a variety of leftovers including veg chowmein, pancakes and pasta!

Handsome was a lot shyer and kept his distance but kept guard all night and most of us awake with barking

Firm friends: Snowy and Handsome followed us up the 8km climb to the Moray plains. If I could bring them back with me I would.

Cowering for a few 'Good Day' biscuits

City dogs of Leh

Street sweepers and sleepers of Leh

Thiksey monastry pup

The Ladakh Animal Society together with Vets without borders are doing an amazing job of sterilising all dogs in and around Leh.Since 2006 some 7000 odd dogs have been sterilised. The 'gangs' of dogs are rounded up and taken back to the basic clinic for their operations and then returned to their territories a few days later.

Fellow South African Joanne Lefson and Oscar her famous Ahound the World traveller have not only done tons to support the adoption of shelter-bound dogs on their Ahound the World Tour (www.worldwooftour.com), but have also set up a donkey sanctuary in Leh. More on that later, but I appreciated this painted stone I found at the sanctuary, it was as if Oscar had painted this stone in recognition of my dogmother efforts.

 

Blooming passes

Whether wheezing up or whizzing down one of the mega Himalayan passes, I simply cant help myself and stop for flowers. Of course I don’t need much encouragement to have a break on an ascent, always nice to catch my breathe and get up close to some pretty little blooms, but on the down though, requires a lot more discipline. Here are some of my favourites, unfortunately I have found it hard try to ID them, if you know what they are please comment!

Pretty little whites on the way up the monsoon thrashed Rohtang pass at around 3000m

A campsite in fields of summer flowers as it were (stilll on the wet side of the Rohtang)

These beautiful burgundy blooms are widespread between 3000m -4000m. From a distance they give mountains a red tinge, it was only on close inspection that I found it was these little flowers!

These pink 'rock' daisies seem to be most abundant at the 4000m marker. I noticed lots of these at on the Baralacha-la and the Khardung-la passes.

One of my favourites. Just when you think that nothing pretty could possibly grow in a dry and high altitude desert, these blues were a welcome sight for me as I plodded up the highest motorable road in the world (the Khardung-la Pass).Unlike its other altitude cramped counterparts, this blue anenome-like flower doesn't hold back, bearing beautiful full flowers between 4600 - 5300m - amazing!

Simply sweet

The robust rhubard (I mentioned in the previous entry). Like many of these high altitude plants it is considered vulnerable.

Seabuckthorn - this indigenous berry grows in the lower dry valleys and is known for its high levels of vitamin C. It is harvested and usually turned into a lovely orange juice. They are rather tart to taste!

Rambling pink roses are a striking contrast against the dry orange valleys. Here they have fruited into equally stunning rosehips.

As tempting as it is to continue non-stop down this amazing descent from 5600m to 3600m over 40km (Khardung-la pass) - I always stop, even for only a minute, to savour the views and the blooming pass.

The Nakee-la and Lachalunga-la passes

Once over the Rohtang, the wet forested pass at 4000m and Baralacha-la just under 5000m, the road climbs out of the Sarcchu plains up the double pass of the Nakee-la (4950m) and the Lachalung-la (5060m).

On the way up the infamous 21 'Gata loops', roadside humour keeps the spirits high on this 23km ascent from 4250m to 4980m to the Nakee-la

I am always impressed by the 'fields' of wild rhubard that I have seen each year growing in a very particular spot at around 4800m (on the vulnerable list of himalayan plants). Below a squadron of Royal Enfield riders make their way up.

Carlos and Aulo enjoy views from the cairn strewn false summit of the Nakee-la, before dropping 200m down to start climbing again to the true pass.

Despite two broken ribs (falling while taking photos) Anthony labours on, happy to see the prayer flags no doubt!

Descending reluctantly 200m down to Whiskey Nullah (only to then climb back up), however a lunchtime snack stop serenaded by a french motorbike rider playing his banjo helped to restore failing humour and energy levels.

A triumphant descent! Caroline rightfully very pleased with herself after a 7k slog up to 5065m of the Lachalung-la!

Dots of cyclists: After 30 odd k's of a hard grind, we could all enjoy the blissful descent down the other side.

More downhill treats: sighting of the Blue headed himalayan sheep or Bharal

Gateway to Pang: Granite slabs rise like fortresses on either side.

Ever changing and awe inspiring scenery all the way down the Lachalung-la: aeolian carved sandstone-scapes.