Many dream of visiting Ladakh, and last year, after years of planning, we finally made our dream a reality. We took a month-long road trip from Bengaluru, covering all of Ladakh except Zanskar.
Steering through the clouds
With a steering wheel in one hand and a pounding heart in the other, I ascended the Khardung La, 17,582 feet above sea level. The altitude made my head spin, but I couldn’t tell anyone, not with the wheel in my hand. My wife would have lost her trust, and my son would have just laughed. So, instead of panicking, i started random talks and jokes. Later, my wife asked me when I had become so talkative!
Surrounded by snow-capped peaks, the road became more treacherous the higher we climbed. We had always known this was the world’s highest motorable road, at 17,582 feet. But no more, it’s now Umling La. And Khardung La doesn’t even make the top five. The world is constantly changing.
The experience of driving through this incredible landscape and battling the elements was both exhilarating and terrifying.
A tourist car, trying to show off, sped past us dangerously, only to fail in its attempt to provoke us. This is the world’s highest motorable road, not a racetrack.
A little further down the road, we saw the same jeep lying tilted on the side of the road, its suspension broken. We simply looked at them, offering no words.
With the blessings of Ma Tara, we reached our destination. However, the army wouldn’t let us stay long. Was the weather deteriorating rapidly, or was it due to El Niño?
Nubra Valley: A bumpy ride
The road down to the Nubra Valley was far from smooth. We reached South Pullu and decided to take a break for a cup of tea. My wife and I both agreed that we would have to come back again.
A lost path and a sandy adventure
We continued our journey, aiming for the small village of Hunder in the Nubra Valley. We knew we would be staying in tents, but we had no idea where the trail was. Google Maps had left us high and dry.
As we ventured further, the paved road ended. We learned that the road had been damaged by the unseasonal snowfall the previous year, and repairs were underway. It was expected to reopen in June. So, what did that mean? We couldn’t go any further.
We were told we could still go, but the next 42 kilometers were nothing but a rocky road, filled with dust. With a prayer, we pressed on, hoping the suspension wouldn’t give way. The road narrowed at times as construction work was happening on one side, and vehicles were barely squeezing through the other. I kept my eyes on the road, avoiding the thousand-foot drop into the Shyok River below.
After about two hours of this, we reached the plain. The car sped along the single-lane road in fifth gear. I had forgotten that there were gears above third.
Following the road signs, we turned left and slammed on the brakes. In front of us lay a vast expanse of sand, completely covering the road. In the distance, the mountains rose steeply, but what if our tires got stuck in the sand before we could reach the climb? A local Innova pulled up beside us, honking its horn, and I got out to lower the car’s tire pressure. Four-wheel drive is all well and good, but it’s useless if you’re stuck in the sand.
After another hour or so of climbing and descending, we reached our campsite. Along the way, we passed the Diskit Monastery, which we would explore the next day. Today, it was time for an evening ride on Bactrian camels in the heart of Central Asia, in a desert at an altitude of 10,000 feet.
Pangong Tso: A dream come true
Not many people drive from Hunder in the Nubra Valley to Pangong Lake. Tour drivers are a different story; they drive there every day. But for a first-timer like me, driving there was probably not the smartest decision.
I’m not known for my intelligence, so that’s what I did. The distance wasn’t the issue; it was the numerous mountains and ridges we had to cross. And most of the road ran along the Shyok River gorge. We would also have to cross the river several times. With a prayer, we set off.
We started early, first taking the familiar road from Leh to reach Khalsar. Then, instead of turning right, we took the left fork and climbed the steep mountainside. Lost and Found on the Road to Pangong Tso.
As we continued our journey towards Pangong Tso, the fatigue of the long drive started to set in. We were unsure about the exact route and were feeling a bit lost. Just when we were about to stop and ask for directions, a car trailing a cloud of dust pulled up behind us.
To our surprise, it was a tourist car filled with fellow Bengali travelers. They were also heading to Pangong Tso, but from Leh, the opposite direction we were coming from. We exchanged greetings and inquired about the road conditions ahead. The driver assured us that the road was in good condition, but we should be prepared for some rough patches in the last 40 kilometers.
Relieved and refreshed by the unexpected encounter, we continued our journey. We stopped for lunch at the small village of Durbuk, where we were told that the road ahead was better. However, we were in for a surprise. The last 40 kilometers were indeed a challenge, with a rocky and uneven surface.
Despite the bumpy ride, our spirits remained high. The anticipation of reaching Pangong Tso kept us going. And finally, as we crested a hill, we were rewarded with a breathtaking view of the lake nestled between two mountains. The fatigue of the journey instantly melted away, replaced by a surge of excitement for the adventures that awaited us by the shores of this legendary lake. A breathtaking vista unfolded before us: Pangong Tso, a mirror reflecting the snow-capped peaks that cradled it. It is truly a once-in-a-lifetime experience that we wish to come back to cherish again and again.
Written by: Krishanu Kundu
Translated by izifiso
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