After yesterday’s pleasant stroll that eased us all into the swing of things today’s proposition was much more of a challenge. Some 800 metres of ascent had to be accomplished at altitude over the course of the day. We would be crossing many spurs and minor passes, with occasional spectacular views northwards towards the Indus Valley and the snowy peaks beyond.
The highest pass of the day would be the famous Shang La at a staggering 4,960m. All thoughts centred on getting across this pass. Ladakh is known as ‘The Land of the High Passes’ and today we were going to find out exactly why!
The trail up to the pass was fairly nondescript but some pleasant early morning sunshine made for a pleasant enough walk. I passed countless Yak like beasts, well I assumed they were Yaks although a lack of horns had me questioning myself on the matter (can Yaks be hornless?).
The profile of the ground steepened and all thoughts of Yak breeds disappeared as the push for the pass began to concentrate all my thoughts. If I could not get over this pass then there would be little hope of me making it up Stok Kangri, a good 1,000 plus meters higher! I steeled myself to the task in hand.
We wove in ant like procession up the trail, I passed other hikers and other hikers passed me, all of us striving to reach the top. After a while I could hear the unmistakable sound of fluttering prayer flags in the wind. Prayer flags adorn the tops of most of the passes in Ladakh and it was at that moment I realised I had finally made it.
Collapsing in a heap next to my jettisoned rucksack I sat still and soaked up the expansive views afforded by the height. The mountains now stretched for miles into the distance Stok Kangri still looked a long way off.
After a few minutes of rest and relaxation we set off again descending towards the Tokpo River for lunch. The valley was wide and the river increasingly distanced itself from our trail. We stopped on a green plateaux for lunch and enjoyed the gentle breeze emanating up the valley.
The afternoon was spent generally trekking downhill carefully watching my steps ensuring no twisted ankles or injuries occurred. We contoured around various dusty spurs until a final climb up to and over a 4,550m pass, then down to Mathophu at 4,400m.
This was the site of Camp 3, a forlorn windswept grassy spit of land used for grazing horses and cattle and completely covered in dung. A solitary stone hut with dung walls surrounding it to protect it from the never ending winds was the only suggestion of any kind of civilisation.
I braved the elements to strip and bathe in the glacial waters of the nearby stream running close to the camp and settled in for yet another night under canvas. The landscape was getting more and more remote and the temperature was steadily dropping with each subsequent night, I could feel that we were edging nearer and nearer to our final goal and the anticipation buoyed my mood as I hit the sleeping bag for the night.
Check out more photos from my adventures at: https://www.flickr.com/photos/jameshandlon/albums
Eventually the road surface petered out just before the settlement of Shang and we carried on up the valley amid boulders strewn across the landscape by the ever present river. There then followed some easy river crossings back and forth as we weaved our way along the gently meandering valley floor gradually working our way upwards in altitude.
As the midday sun started to roast our heads our lead guide Rigzin decided to call a halt for lunch. We all settled in an ancient grove of trees sheltering under their dappled shade. The trees were encircled by a crumbling stone wall which ring-fenced an area held sacred for centuries to the Ladakh people.
The food on these expeditions never ceases to amaze me and this trip was no different. The porters handed out the plates and cutlery before offering us a series of ridiculous meal options to have to had to carry on their backs for hours along a trail. Omelette, fried potatoes, salad and bread followed by various fruit offerings. My usual grub while out hiking in the UK consists of a flattened cheese sandwich wrapped in silver foil. But then again I am not usually being supported by a team of experienced porters, chef and guide up ‘int’ Lakes.
After recuperating for an hour or so we set off again along the hot valley path towards Shang Phu where we we’d camp for the night. Shang Phu campsite sits at the confluence of two rivers in an elevated shepherds field and is on the route of the Markha Valley Trek a popular week long trek in this part of Ladakh.
Having thankfully not seen any leopards we finally reached camp in the early afternoon. The setting was as spectacular as I’d read about in the trip notes and the tents were pitched to take full advantage of the far reaching views back down the valley.
Once the tents were up I stripped off and bathed with my tent mates (au natural) in the glacial stream tumbling down from the Shang La Pass, happy to clean the dust and sweat of the day from my sweaty body.
From Leh, we drove along the Indus Valley to the ancient monastery at Thiksey. After that the plan was to continue our journey, turning off the highway to follow a rough road up into the mountains as far as Shang Sumdo (3,800m) where we’d spend our first night under canvas.
Thiksey monastery is a Tibetan-style monastery affiliated with the Gelug sect of Tibetan Buddhism. It is located on top of a small hill in Thiksey around 12 miles east of Leh. It is the largest gompa in central Ladakh and resembles the Potala Palace in Lhasa.
The monastery was a fascinating place to visit. Monks walking around in yellow renunciation robes with their New Balance trainers on using the latest iPhones while incense quietly smouldered away in the background. Horns bellowed and drums were banged all played out to the cacophony of prayer mantras echoing off the ancient walls.
We took off our boots to enter the inner sanctum where we sat and listened to the chanting monks. Their chanting was interspersed with manic blowing through long horns and crazy beating upon ramshackle drums.
Once the crescendo became too much I crept out into daylight and up onto the flat rooftop of the monastery for what must be one of the best views of the Indus Valley and surrounding mountains.
Back on the road we headed still further down the dusty Indus Valley until we eventually turned off the main road and rattled across a small iron bridge spanning the gushing Indus River below. The bridge was bedecked with prayer flags all tattered and fluttering in the wind.
Shang Sumdo sits at the confluence of two rivers. It’s just a small village with a few houses and a tea tent. Our tents had already been pitched by our team of hard working porters who we were now introduced to. Their Nepalese names where almost impossible to remember at first but as the week drew on we gradually came to get to know them. Our names to them must have been just as much a mystery in return.
After settling in we were invited to take another acclimatisation walk up to a rocky outcrop above the campsite. The slope was a mass of shaley red scree flake like in appearance. As we trudged up the steep slope the weather gods decreed that we should be given a jolly good soaking and so the rain clouds closed in on us and we all got drenched.
At around the 4,500m mark we halted suddenly on a flat plateaux and then turned around to come back down. Inspiring the climb wasn’t, but it was an exercise in getting us match fit and so needed to be performed.
Wet and a bit chilled we piled back into out tents and changed into some dry clothes before tea was served in the mess tent. We ate the first of what would be a series of amazing meals by the expedition chef and settled in for what was going to be our new routine for the next week. The adventure really felt like it was now getting underway.
