Above the clouds

A winters day on the Mongolian Steppe: Hustai National Park

2012-01-08T20:06:00.002+05:30

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Nostalgic on the New years Morning!

2012-01-01T07:28:00.001+05:30

I am moving this blog to a new location. All the future postings will be at the new site.

www.himalayandays.blogspot.com

My new years resolution is to increase the frequency of posting to atleast twice a month!

The Golden Gobi

2011-11-30T23:21:00.001+05:30

I had lost the sunlight over an hour ago. Well, the sunlight barely made it into these narrow canyons during this time of the year. I was in the South Gobi region of Mongolia and this was the month of November. With no sun reaching the dept of these canyons, the temperature was well below freezing. The one thing I

The main highway cutting across
the Tost and Tosunbumba mountains

dreaded the most in this region was a bike crash. And just as the thought crossed my mind, the rear wheel of my bike wobbled in the loose gravel and I came down crashing. Lying on the ground I smelled petrol and so I immediately rushed to the bike and put it on the main stand. Only a little petrol had leaked. I had a minor bruise on my left thigh but otherwise I seemed alright.

I pulled out the map of the region and my GPS unit and pondered for a while. After a few minutes I admitted to myself that I was lost! With the sun going down my situation was worsening. My best bet was to head dead north, get out of the mountain and into the open steppe, and I should be able to see the road; simple! Find the highway in the steppe and get back to camp. If I could make it to the highway before total dark I should be fine.

An ibex in the late evening. Usually they
prefer the rugged rocky cliffs

I was here in the Gobi desert to try and assess the conservation status and distribution of wild ungulates in the newly proposed Local Protected area around the Tost-Tosunbumba mountains. Alongside, I also hoped to estimate the availability of wild-ungulate-prey for the snow leopard which would complement my work in India. This is also the site of the Long Term Ecological Study, a joint venture of the Snow Leopard Trust and PANTHERA. The only place in the world where you can study the snow leopard using, almost exclusively, a motorbike to get around. Orjan, a colleague from Sweden, is also doing his PhD here. He is incredible when it comes to collaring snow leopards. He has already collared 15 snow leopards and 6 of them currently carry their collars. The study is aimed at understanding the home range, movement and predation pattern of snow leopards. I felt that our work complimented each other very well.

"Nartai", Sunlight, as we called him, was the last snow leopard that Orjan had collared before leaving for Sweden

The most abundant ungulate in this region was the Siberian ibex Capra sibirica and the argali Ovis amon. Though the latter is comparatively much rarer. Outside the mountains and into the steppe there is also the Black-tailed gazelle, khulan and the occasional wild Bactrian camel that stray from the neighboring Great Gobi Strictly Protected area.

Argali, the biggest wild-sheep in the world.
They mainly preffer the rolling hills on the
periphery of the Tost Mountains

From my assessments so far, there is a healthy population of ibex. Large enough to support a viable population of the snow leopards. But the status of the other four ungulates is bleak. Interviews with the local herders suggested that the Khulan may even have gone locally extinct; sometime over the last decade. Nadia, an alumni of the M.Sc. Course at the Wildlife Institute of India, but a local Mongolian, helped with the interview surveys. She also found out that it was only a few male bactrian camels that made forays to this region , that too only during winters, probably in search of mates among the domestic free-ranging camel population. Over the last decade the Black-tailed gazelle has retreated further west and exists as a small population of less than 30 individuals. Even though the argali is distributed over a much larger area, their population seems small, as sighting an argali is a difficult task.

The gloden glow of the Gobi is deceptive. It masks the bitter cold!

Even if this area was declared a Local Protected Area, it was threatened by the mining companies that had already procured licenses to explore for minerals in this region. I had already seen some of the mining activity within the borders of the PA. Then there was also the illegal, open-cast mining for gold; aptly called Ninja mining. You hardly ever saw people doing it, just the scares left on the land! The border with China, the sink for all the minerals of Mongolia, is barely 40 km away from here. The nightmare of straying into china that haunted me at my field site in Spiti, Himachal Pradesh, India, still haunts me here!

The Golden Gobi!

As these thoughts were running in my head, I rode over a gentle rolling hill and the vast steppe opened in front of me. The warm glow of the setting sun reflected from the dry grass covering the landscape in shades of gold! I wondered why anyone would want to dig up a place as beautiful as this.

I guess, the glitter of gold outshines the Gobi!

Counting ibex in Mongolia

2011-11-27T16:31:00.004+05:30

First week of October I started on an enormous task of estimating the population of Ibex in the Tost and Tosunbumba mountains in the South Gobi region of the Mongolia. After scouting around, getting used to the area for the first few weeks I started the actual work only in the last week of October.

The Steppe of Gobi and the Tost mountains in the background

The Tost-Tosunbumba mountains cover an area of about 2000 km2 and are almost in the middle of the Gobi desert. There is very low precipitation and temperature fluctuates between 30 degrees in the summer to -30 in the winters. Temperature now (Oct- Nov) hovers between -10 at night and 4 during the day. The mountains are not very high, the base of the mountain is at about 1800m and the highest summit rises only a little above 2500m. The terrain is very rugged in parts and absolutely gentle and rolling at others.

A rutting male ibex with a female.

I have divided the entire landscape into smaller units ranging from 20-150 km2. The larger units are further divided into smaller grids of ~20-30 km2. I am using a method developed by Forsyth and Hickling (1997) to count the Himalayan Tahr in the South Isle of New Zealand. In this method, one does a double count of all the herds in the survey area. Based on the age-sex classification of individuals in a herd, the observers the find out the herds that were counted only during the first survey, only in the second survey and herds counted in both the surveys. Using the differences in counting in both the surveys the observers then estimate the probability of detections which then helps to estimate the number of groups that were missed in both the surveys. The method relies on the robust mark-recapture theory.

It is the solitary animals or the small groups that are harder to detect!

Sunshine and her cub Shadow

2011-09-06T17:51:00.013+05:30

An edited version of this article appeared in the magazine 'Hornbill' April-June 2011

What could it be that the boy had confused for a sheep stuck in the snow?’ Curious, I had peered through the spotting scope. There were two of them ... was it Sunshine? But who was that with her? Why were they here in broad daylight...? Sunshine was afar in the low resolution photograph that Charu had sent to me. But, she was one of the most beautiful beings that I had ever seen. Though the photograph was not too clear, one couldn’t miss the striking features of this elusive cat – a Snow Leopard. Charu’s email read “results from last summer’s camera trapping exercise in Spiti”. The camera traps had captured many images of four different snow leopards. He had attached few low resolution images of all the four snow leopards. The first was a large male who had lost his tail; he had been named ‘Tail cut’. The second was another male but not as large as Tail cut; he had been named ‘Eureka’. And finally there was a photograph of a mother and her cub. The mother had been named ‘Sunshine’ and her cub had been left unnamed.

This fall winter I had set off on a mission to Spiti, Himachal Pradesh, with the hope of studying the foraging behaviour and eating habits of the blue sheep (Pseudois nayaur), one of the most
important preys of the snow leopard. Spiti which lies in the rain shadow area of the Trans-Himalayan region is subject to harsh winters (the temperature drops down to -35º C). The ground is covered with over two feet of snow with gale forced winds blowing throughout. Following the blue sheep in such weather conditions was a tough task, but I was geared up to rough it out. On reaching Spiti in early December at the camp, a remote village of Tashigang, I was feeling strange to set base in a village comprising of merely 6 houses and 18 people. The winter had already set in and the night time temperature would drop to -20º C. Takpa and Kalzang, two local guys were to help me with my data collection along with Sushil, Thillay, Kalzang Gurmet and Sheru working in the Nature Conservation Foundation for wildlife
conservation in the region. Together we set up the camp; my home for the next six months!

Thus, began my quest of running the camp and working in the fields with the aid of Kalzang and Takpa. I began to follow the blue sheep, spending days and nights watching and taking meticulous notes on their foraging behaviour. One fine day on our way from the camp to the area, where I had last seen the blue sheep, we came across a dead blue sheep along with two sets of snow leopard pug marks around the kill. On following the tracks for a little while, we came to a site where the pair had rested, and then the tracks disappeared into the craggy cliffs,
which we could not follow.

My routine was pretty much in flow, I would take a day off once every ten days. On one of those idle days, I was lazing around the terrace of our camp with my spotting scope, sipping on a hot tea, imploring lady luck as I hadn’t spotted anything yet. Time passed by… a little boy from the village walked up to the roof of the camp and started peering through the spotting scope. He saw something and concluded that it was 'a blue sheep stuck in the snow'. I laughed his remark off, “blue sheep are adapted to living in these conditions and would not get stuck in the snow”! He acknowledged my argument, and did not pursue the subject any further. But then, my curiosity got the better of me. What could it be that the boy had confused for a blue sheep stuck in snow? I peered through the spotting scope. What I saw was one of the biggest surprise of my life. It was a snow leopard, a kilometre away, silently plodding through about two feet of powder snow; with only the head showing it seemed as if it was swimming in the deep snow!

I kept my spotting scope focused and tried hard to see where the snow leopard was headed. Suddenly, I noticed another movement through the corner of the spotting scope. There were two snow leopards, walking parallel to each other maintaining a distance of about twenty feet! Enthralled, I decided to get a closer look and ran downstairs, calling Sushil, Kalzang and Thillay on the way. The next moment the four of us and a couple of boys from the village headed to a place where we could hide and wait for the approaching snow leopards to take a closer look and note the direction in which they were headed. Soon we were positioned at the right spot and the two snow leopards arrived without any further delay. They were across a deep gorge from us but the distance as the crow flies was less than a few hundred meters.

Snow leopards are known for their secretive behaviour. The first photograph of a snow leopard was taken in the 1970s. They are nocturnal, live in extremely rugged terrain and are very well camouflaged; appropriately called by some as ‘ghost of the mountains’. And here they were two of them, in bright day light, barely a few hundred meters from us. One was clearly older than the other. It had to be them! Sunshine and her cub… they were the only mother-cub pair existing in the area! It was unlikely that another mother-cub pair would have its home range overlapping that of Sunshine. While Sunshine lay in the snow, her cub played with her tail. All of a sudden both were still and alert, we could feel the tension in the air. Further away, on the same slope, we noticed movement… immediately we focussed our lenses… another snow leopard! We couldn’t believe our eyes. One of most elusive wild cat of the world and we were watching three together! Trans-fixed by this development we failed to notice the tension building up, around Sunshine and her cub. The cub’s movements softened; it crouched, belly brushing the floor, almost disappearing into the surrounding. The third snow leopard appeared to be a large male. He stayed about 100 m from Sunshine and her cub, hidden in a rock crevasse by now. The tension persisted for over an hour, throughout which Sunshine while basking in the open sunny slope kept a close watch on the new male, while her cub stayed put in its rocky hideout, peeping outside at regular intervals. There was no doubt in my mind that the large male was aware of the cub’s presence and location, but never displayed any aggression. In many large cat species, males are known to be aggressive towards cubs that are not their own, sometimes even killing them. That explained the undercurrent here... but why was the large male so calm? Was he the cub’s father? I will never know... Our insufficient observations didn’t allow us to pick up details on the male, we couldn’t even confirm if he was one of the resident leopards or a new visitor to the area.

By now it had been over 5 hours since the first leopard was spotted, soon it was evening and the sun dipped below the ridge-line in the west and the temperatures started to dip rapidly, a signal for us to leave soon (I was unable to hold the binoculars due to the cold). We left the snow leopards after it became too dark to notice any movement; even against the bright snow. That night I stayed up wondering about what must have happened after we left. Who was the large male? Would he attack the cub in the dark or would they just be fine together? What about Sunshine? This was the breeding season of the snow leopards. Would she mate with this large male? Was her cub old enough to wean off and look after himself? The next day, at the first light of the day, we were back at the site; but they were gone! The wind had cleaned whatever little remained to be read of the footprints. There was no evidence of the presence of the animals from the previous day, just uniform snow cover all across. That day onwards I was much more optimistic about sighting a snow leopard, I was watchful and rewarded soon.

A few weeks later, while observing a herd of blue sheep over the deep gorge formed by the Shilla nala (one of Spiti river’s tributaries), a rock suddenly moved in the valley below. The movement was not at the bottom of the gorge, but on a ledge on my side of the gorge; only a few hundred metres below me. A grey shadow slyly slid past a few rocks and settled down again. I focused my binoculars on the exact spot, but it was difficult to spot the shadow. It moved again and kept walking along the ledge and finally… a beautiful snow leopard emerged from the stealthy shadow. It must have been on the ledge for quite some time but I had noticed it only when it moved, warily it kept walking. I knew it hadn’t noticed me as I was watching it from the top, literally a bird’s eye view. The peculiarity of this leopard confirmed my doubts – it was Sunshine’s cub. I had often seen pug marks of an adult leopard and a cub in this area... but where was Sunshine? I followed the cub along a parallel ledge vertically above it. I lost sight of it for some time but knew where the ledge would lead him; I rushed along the ledge and waited for the cub to emerge at the other end. It took him a while, but he came and startled a herd of blue sheep that were feeding there. Although he walked like a ghostly shadow, his movements were awkward when he approached the blue sheep herd. His hunting techniques were still poor… which meant that he had not weaned off completely. Maybe Sunshine had gone hunting and her cub was just trying his luck around their den? The startled blue sheep soon left and the cub sat down under an over hanging rock. After a while, Takpa, my friend and assistant, came looking for me. We just sat there watching the cub sleep. Then just as silently as it appeared, it got up and disappeared like a shadow in the boulders at the bottom of the valley bottom; never a sound nor a glint; always camouflaged in his surroundings.

I saw the cub only one more time before the end of the project, a brief glimpse. It peeped at us from behind some rocks. But now every time I return to the mountains and see a pug mark in the snow, it fills me with joy, hoping that it is the shadow, a little older now... holding its own territory... hunting for itself!

Conservation Leadership Program training course

2011-09-01T10:08:00.007+05:30

(An edited version of this post has been posted at http://blog.conservation.org/2011/08/conservation-leaders-build-skills-in-canadian-rockies/)

Group photo at lake Louise (Photo courtesy of Robyn Dalzen)

At a recent Conservation Leadership Programme (CLP) international training workshop in the Canadian Rocky Mountains, participants were in the middle of a heated role-play debate over drilling for oil in and around important wildlife habitats.

“Twenty five percent of the profits from this oil well will be used for local community development,” negotiated the petroleum company representative.

“But we don’t want the oil wells here, and we don’t need the money,” argued the community members. The outcome was inevitable; the community members were not going to budge.

Seldom do things turn out so easy in real life conservation. In my own project in India, convincing the government to divert an upcoming road away from an important snow leopard (Panthera uncia) habitat has surely been a challenge!

To better equip us to tackle difficult conservation issues, one representative from each of the 30 CLP award-winning teams — spanning 20 different countries — participated in a two-and-a-half week training course at the University of Calgary’s Barrier Lake Field Station.

Lake Barrier field station (Photo courtesy Danka)

We debated many issues, assessed case studies and geared up for our own projects back home. We actively participated in workshops taught by experts in their field on project planning, behavior change through education, media and messaging, and engaged in discussion sessions on advocacy, climate change and fundraising. We also had “culture nights” where we learned about each other’s cultures, and each participant gave a presentation on their project.

A multitude of languages were spoken, but the message of conservation remains the same. I was inspired by the range of conservation projects being conducted by my fellow participants, ranging from expanding marine protected areas in Brazil to evaluating the only remaining Marquesan kingfisher (Todiramphus godeffroyi) population in French Polynesia; from assessing the threats to vipers in Armenia to conducting new research about a rare subspecies of chimpanzee in Nigeria.

Over the course of the training, my own work back in India became clearer to me. I learned important lessons about behavior change and how to reach out to people and strike an emotional chord to achieve this task.

In our project, we aim to identify the villages most affected by livestock damage by the snow leopard. These are the villages most likely to persecute the snow leopard in retaliation. We hope to work with these villages and identify a win-win strategy to prevent livestock damage and encourage snow leopard conservation. For humans and snow leopards to co-exist, local people will need to change their lifestyle in many ways — altering their livestock herding methods, changing pasture use to facilitate wild-herbivore population recovery and, above all, shifting their attitudes toward the snow leopard itself.

A Columbian ground squirrel at the barrier lake field station.

For the participants and CLP staff members, we were peers in the classroom, an international audience in the presentation hall, teammates on the football and volleyball field, dance partners at the cultural nights and newfound friends. We parted with a heavy heart but armed to shoulder the responsibility of the small contributions that we are determined to make to conserve wildlife wherever we are.

Great Himalayan National Park

2011-06-18T16:06:00.020+05:30

GHNP or Great Himalayan National Park is best known for being only one of the two places on earth with a viable population of the western tragopan Tragopan melanocephalus. Locally known as Jujurana, this species serves as the flagship for wildlife conservation in the greater Himalaya.

Because of its restricted distribution the Jujurana is considered Vunerable to extinction by the IUCN. Its only five population are known from Kohistan, Kaghan valley in Pakistan and Kishtwar, Chamba, Kulu and an area east of the Sutlej river from India.

Sunset at Dela

Two weeks ago I went briding with some friends to GHNP. The Jujurana was not our agenda because it is so rare to see one that you could spend months before seeing one. We had only seven days, so we decided on trying to see as much of the park as possible rather than just chasing one species.

The GHNP boasts of a little over 200 bird species. The park ranges form around 1000 meters to over 6000 meters above sea level. It has a diversity of habitats from broadleaf forest, through mixed conifer, oak-rododendron to alpine meadows. The diversity of habitats available means a lot of species turnover and thus a lot of species.

Ashwin and me on a birding trip

Over the six days, four of which were spent inside the core area, we saw over 100 species of birds. Our list boasts of some "difficult to see" species such as the orange bullfinch (Pyrrhula aurantiaca). Although none of us is a full-time birder we still managed to id over 13 species of warblers; five of which belong to the groups called leaf warblers (genus Phylloscopus) which are especially difficult to Id. The experience was much more exciting as we were on our own to id birds in an areas where none of us had been before. It was a huge learning experience for all of us.

Dela Camp at ~3400m

Other than bird also saw a big herd of blue sheep (Pseudois nayaur) on our second day in the park. It was a special experience for me as I had never before seen the blue sheep in the greater Himalaya. All my previous work has been in the trans Himalaya. The same day on our way back to camp at night we also chanced upon a brown bear (Ursus Arctos) mother with two cub. It was late twilight and we narrowly missed getting between the mother and the cub. The alpine medow at Dela also offered some very exotic birds such as the Golden bush robin (Tarsiger chrysaeus), Smoky warbler (Phylloscopus fuligiventer), Grey-sided bush warbler (Cettia brunnifrons). All these birds are high altitude meadow and shrubbery specialist and cannot be seen anywhere else.

On our way back from Dela, We also chance on other mammal species such as the Yellow-throated marten, Himalayan palm civet and Goral. Great Himalayan National Park offered us the greatest Himalayan trekking and wildlife experience. I can't wait to get back!

Cold desert conflicts: A snow leopards tale!

2011-05-04T11:01:00.009+05:30

Edited version of this article appeared in Frontline Volume 28 - Issue 10 :: May. 07-20, 2011

http://www.frontlineonnet.com/stories/20110520281005800.htm

A snow leopards in the high altitudes of the trans-Himalayan region. Project Snow Leopard, launched by the Ministry of Environment and Forests in 2009, focusses on conservation on a landscape level rather than in just protected areas.

AN hour of hard climbing through knee-deep snow took me to the crest of the plateau at an altitude of 4,500 metres. I gasped for breath in the rarefied air of the endless Tibetan steppe grassland that extended in front of me. Resting my weight on an ice axe, I was admiring the panoramic view when a silhouette on the snow caught my eye. It was a snow leopard moving gently, almost like an elf, hardly leaving a footprint. It was about 200 metres away, perpendicular to my line of sight, and seemed unaware of my presence. I sank to my knees and reached for my binoculars.

The snow leopard is the most shy and elusive of all the big cats in the world. Very little information is available on its ecology and behaviour. In fact, until a few decades ago, it was as if the majestic beast was a mythical creature. Very few outsiders have seen it in its natural environment in the high altitudes of the Himalayas. I got this rare opportunity in Spiti Valley in the remote trans-Himalayan region of Himachal Pradesh.

THE CARCASS OF a bharal killed by a snow leopard and later scavenged by vultures, in the Rungalong plateau in the trans-Himalayan region of Himachal Pradesh.

Suddenly, the snow leopard stopped, crouched low, and started staring at something. From my position I could not see what it was looking at. I crawled to the top of a small hump in the rolling plains, taking care to avoid being seen by the animal. A group of about 30 bharal ( Pseudois nayaur) was grazing on a small patch of grass about 300 metres from the snow leopard.

The bharal is a species of wild goat found in the Himalayan and Tibetan plateau region and is one of the most important prey of the snow leopard. In appearance it is more similar to the hypothetical common ancestor of goats and sheep than either of the two. Of stocky build, it weighs, on an average, about 55 kilograms. The males have beautiful curled horns and sometimes reach well over 70 kg, while the females have thin horns that are only a few centimetres in length.

The snow leopard had moved behind a clump of caragana ( Caragana brevifolia) bushes and, from a crouched position, was intently watching the bharal. Local legend has it that snow leopards can ‘dissolve' in the mountains. Indeed, the leopard had merged completely with the ground and almost melted in front of my eyes. It was incredible to see an animal as large as the snow leopard ‘disappearing' in an open plain. Although I knew exactly where it was, I could not see its shape or outline or anything for that matter. I caught an occasional glimpse of it when it moved.

Using the cover of small rocks and bushes, it now started moving closer to the bharal. There was an unnerving silence all around. Just when I expected the snow leopard to move closer to the bharal, the silence was broken by the loud ‘honking' of a donkey. It came from behind me; the livestock of the village had moved closer and was now about 500 metres behind me. There were over 50 donkeys, 150 cows/cow-yak hybrids, and 250 sheep and goats, and they were being herded by two elderly men and two boys who were barely in their teens.

Excessive grazing by domestic livestock is the primary cause behind the reduced numbers of wild herbivores such as the bharal and the ibex

I thought a donkey had noticed the snow leopard and was braying in alarm, but through my binoculars I saw that the donkeys were just running after each other in a playful fight. The snow leopard withdrew further into the rocks and kept a close eye on both the livestock and the bharal.

Livestock is an equal or better alternative prey for the snow leopard. It can sneak close to the herds and when the herders are busy with their tea or chatting make off silently with a goat or a sheep or sometimes even a donkey or a cow. The snow leopard even attacks free-ranging horses and yaks, taking the young and the weak. Pastoralists from certain areas sometimes lose up to 18 per cent of their livestock to the snow leopard and other predators such as the Tibetan wolf. This behaviour of the snow leopard gets it into conflict with pastoralists, sometimes drawing serious retaliatory action from them. This is one of the biggest challenges for snow leopard conservation throughout its distribution range in Central Asia.

A GROUP OF bharal, or blue sheep, grazing on a patch of grass.

Livestock numbers up

The trans-Himalayan region is extremely low in productivity, comparable to the Arctic region or deserts. As a result, livestock and wild herbivores, such as the bharal, compete for the limited fodder available in the rangelands. The entire region is covered by over two feet of snow throughout winter, making it even more difficult for wild herbivores to find food. During this season, livestock are fed on fodder that pastoralists have stored. Thus, in the past couple of decades wild herbivore populations have declined even as livestock numbers have increased. This has led to the increased dependence of predators such as the snow leopard and the Tibetan wolf on livestock, intensifying the conflict between predators and pastoralists.

In the trans-Himalayan region, wildlife populations are spread across the landscape, the contiguity being broken only by natural barriers such as high mountain ridges and rivers and, more recently, by the large human settlements with a large number of livestock. Even wild herbivores are spread across the entire landscape but are found in extremely low densities. Project Snow Leopard, which the Ministry of Environment and Forests launched in 2009, recognises these problems and focusses on conservation on a landscape scale rather than in just the protected areas.

A YEARLING BHARAL sharpening its skills on the rugged and snow-clad mountain slopes.

Here, I had the rare opportunity of seeing the snow leopard faced with the choice of hunting a wild herbivore or livestock. Although just the presence of livestock would not tempt a snow leopard to take the risk, a hungry carnivore would not ignore the chance of picking up straying cattle.

The snow leopard retreated further into the rocks and I could not see it any more. I held my position for a long time. Before I realised it, evening was upon us. It got colder and dark. The livestock had also retreated towards the village. The stalemate had been resolved. The livestock had been ignored over the bharal, saving the herder and the snow leopard a lot of trouble.

THE EFFORTS OF the Nature Conservation Foundation, Mysore, in the reserved area of Kibber village have had a positive impact on several wildlife species. Besides the snow leopard, the village reserve is now home to the bharal, the Himalayan ibex, the Tibetan wolf, the stone marten, the pale weasel and many bird species such as the golden eagle, the lammergeier and the Himalayan griffon.

The next morning I went back to the Rungalong plateau, the site of the pervious day's encounter with the snow leopard. A scanning of the landscape drew my attention to a flock of vultures. They led me to the place where the snow leopard had made its kill the previous night – a male bharal, about four years old. The vultures were tearing at whatever remained of the kill. The snow around the kill was sprayed in red, and the pugmarks told the story. There were few signs of a struggle; the marks on the throat indicated a swift kill. There was still some portion of the kill left, and I expected the leopard to return for it in the evening.

I returned to the village where I met the livestock herder. I told him what I had seen the previous day. He was first disappointed because I had not warned him of the danger. But then he added that snow leopards did not attack livestock very often in areas with a good bharal population.

Rungalong is adjacent to the reserved area of Kibber village, where the people, with support from the Nature Conservation Foundation, a non-governmental organisation based in Mysore, had stopped grazing their livestock so as to help revive the bharal population.

Local initiative

Charudutt Mishra of the NCF, who first came to this region as a PhD student, understood the problem of conflict between pastoralists and the snow leopard. He convinced the local people to set aside a certain area of their rangeland to facilitate the recovery of wild herbivores such as the bharal. At the same time, along with the youth of the village, he started a livestock insurance scheme that compensated pastoralists for loss of livestock to wild carnivores at the current market price of the livestock.

Changing attitudes

THE TIBETAN WOLF. In the past couple of decades, the decline in wild herbivore populations and the growth in livestock numbers have led to the increased dependence of predators such as the snow leopard and the Tibetan wolf on livestock.

These initiatives have helped increase the populations of wild herbivores and change people's attitudes towards wild carnivores in Spiti Valley and a few other places where this model has been replicated. In the eight years since the launch of this initiative, the region has seen an over-sixfold increase in the population of the bharal. Although its effect on the foraging pattern of the snow leopard is still scientifically unclear, local people strongly believe that an increase in the bharal population has reduced the danger to livestock from snow leopards and wolves.

The conservation effort has also had a positive impact on other wildlife species. The village reserve is today home to many animals such as the bharal, the Himalayan ibex, the Tibetan wolf, the snow leopard, the stone marten, the pale weasel and many bird species such as the golden eagle, the lammergeier and the Himalayan griffon. Also, encountering a snow leopard is much more common today than it was before.

Tashigang

2011-02-14T19:11:00.015+05:30

A Himalayan wolf

A long wolf howl tore through the frozen air of the night. The full-moon's light reflected off the the snow-bound ground out-shadowing even the brightest stars of the night. Four large wolves sat of the frozen solid snow of the rolling steppe hills. The silence that followed the howl was so deadening that I felt life in every beat of my heart. The wolves got up and carefully walked over the frozen crust of the snow. They reached the crest of the hill where wind has cleared the snow and galloped off into the dark. We walked back to the camp in silence. The crunching of snow under our boot stopped as the snow froze solid.

I woke up at the cracking of the radio. It said "A cold wave had hit parts of western Tibet and the Himalayas; temperature in the capital city of Delhi had plummeted and schools will remain closed for the next two days". Chunzing sat at the camp door. She was teaching algebra to her 13 year old brother 'Motu'. Motu and Lobzang his 8 year old brother ran off to school an hour later. The Tashigang Village school has two teachers and three student. Two teachers posted to this small village of six households and some 25 people is probably the best teacher student ratio anywhere in the word! Tucked in the folds of the Himalayas, it is one of the last villages on the frontier with Tibet.

Chunzing

Motu and Lobzang

'Takpa' the father of these three kids was assisting me in my research on the bharal and the snow leopard. 'Sangay' the village livestock herder came running to our camp. He had just found a freshly killed bharal; probably killed by the snow leopard. It was close to a rocky hideout that Sangay had made to protect himself from the wind when he tended to his stock.

We spent that evening in his hideout waiting for the predator to return. As the sun went down in the west, light faded and a slight breeze picked up. A shadow walked out of the cliffs and headed towards the carcase; A snow leopard. It turned around a few paces from the carcase and headed back to the cliff. Its behavior felt strange. It did not seem stressed or disturbed but it still chose to turn around without taking a single bite at the kill. it paced back and forth between the carcase and the cliff before two more shadows dawned out of the cliffs; two cub. So this mother snow leopard had made a kill the previous night and had led her cubs to it today. The mother and the cubs lay down near the carcase and played for a some time. Only when it got very dark did they head for the carcase. We retracted our steps without disturbing the cubs and their at meal.

Mother Snow leopard with two cubs

The winter snow began melting around the last week of March. A monotonous winter gave way to a colourful spring. With only a short growing season the agriculturists of the region value this time a very much. I decided to assist Takpa and his brother Ulup with ploughing. Some of my agricultural skills from the dry and hot plains of central Maharashtra came in handy. The plough pulled by the yaks is after all very similar to the one drawn by the bulls back at home. We would work in the fields from morning till evening with just one break from lunch. This schedule went on for over a week. By now I had grown fond of the two yaks that were drawing our plough. I felt sorry for the third yak that we had slaughtered at the beginning of the winter for our winter ration supply.

Men, women, children everybody gather in Takpa's house on the last day of my stay in Tashigang. The drank and danced, screamed and cried, the party continued till dawn. Not a single day of the previous five months did I feel like an outsider. I was part of this small family of six household. But today, I was going back to my old life. Everybody had brought some or other gift. Some just a glass of milk or bottle of home brewed barley beer; a pair of woolen socks and gloves. I left heavy hearted. Promising to back as often as I can.

The Fortress of Gya

2010-08-13T17:34:00.010+05:30

Gya, the highest peak in Himachal Pradesh, a towering 6794 m tall giant, but as elusive as the snow leopard. The peak is hidden so deep in a maze of other smaller mountain peaks that it remained unknown till the late 1980′s. Gya is located at the tri-junction of Himachal (Spiti), Ladakh and Tibet. Approaching it from Spiti is an extremely difficult task. Gya sits at head of fortress carved out by the Lingti river. Lingti “an instrument that cuts rocks” as it literally translates from Spitian, has carved a maze of deep gorges, high plateaus and over 20 sentinel peaks rising over an altitude of 6000 m.

Shijibang peak, one of the sentinels of Gya, it bears striking resemblance with the famous Matterhorn of the Alps just that its 1500m taller!

I have been into this maze before. Mainly in search of the snow leopard (Panthera uncia) and the blue sheep (Pseudois nayaur). This time was my forth expedition. The primary aim was to estimate the population of blue sheep in this region using a new technique called the ‘Double observer survey’. Unlike our previous attempts this time we decided to do the task with a small team of just 5 members. We had to cover an enormous area of about 300 sq km. Most of this has to be approached through high passes and torrent rivers coming from glacier snouts.

The expedition began in the village of Lalung. Takpa and I moved to the next camp called Kibri on day one; Chunnit Kesang, Lama and Pandan were to join us the next day with two donkeys loaded with expedition equipment. Day 3 was our first major hurdle of the Shijibang pass (5100 m) a vertical climb of 1300 m from the Kibri camp.

Lalung village and Chokula in the background

Among the many defences of Gya, the first is a row of fairly high but relatively easy peaks such as Kanamo (6974 m), Cho-cho kang nilda (6380 m), Tserip (5890 m), Kawu (5910 m) and Shijibang (c. 5900 m). Across the Shijbang pass (5100 m) we were across the first hurdle. But it also meant that if the weather took a turn we could be caged inside. We camped in Shijibang ‘Grassy medow’. The next day across the pastures of Sheru; we camped here for a few days of field work in this region. This region has a very good density of blue sheep. This is also where we saw our first blue sheep kid born in this year.

Our next hurdle was the Lingti river itself. This river is bone freezing cold and has an extremely strong current. But we had a unique solution to this problem. The Yaks! The ship of the cold desert. We were literally going to use them as ships.

Yak! The 'ship' of the cold desert!

We camp by this river for the next few days at a place called Phiphuk. Our next hurdle was the Kuli pass (4800 m). The climb up to Kuli la is gentle and scenic. We decided to ride the yaks up to the pass and across to Saktichen.

Caragana meadow of Saktichen

We camped at Saktichen for the next few days. The next defence of Gya is the 5300 m high pass called the Chaksachen la. Chaksachen la lies along the ridge formed by Lakhang (6250 m), Shilla (6132 m) and Labrang (5900 m). By now we were low on supplies and we decided that only Pandan and I will go up to chaksachen la and see if there are any more pastures across where there could be more blue sheep. The climb was gentle and we made it to the top without much difficulty.

Chunnit Kesang looking for blue sheep; Labrang (5900 m) in the back ground.

Across the valley on the other side was the last line of Gya’s defences. The trio of Geling (6100 m), Runse (6175 m) and Gyaghar (6400 m). The lowest point of this ridge is at 5900 m. Nobody has actually crossed this ridge to reach Gya. Across the Chaksachen pass the gorge was too narrow for any pastures or meadows. We traversed the entire ridge and could not see any more pasture. We decided to wrap up our expedition from here.

Gyaghar (6400 m); meaning Indian!

On the way back I was a little disappointed. I was going back from my fourth expedition without even being able to see Gya. My last opportunity was the crossing of the Shijibang pass. If the weather remained clear then I had a chance. After seven hours of climbing to the top of Shijibang pass I turned around and there was Gya!

Gya (6794 m); The highest peak of Himachal Pradesh

From the Himachal side Gya looks like a single monolith rock wall of 1200 m. Getting to the base of this wall is a challenge of itself.

A herd of blue sheep in Lingti valley

Snow leopard

Only after this fourth expedition do I feel truly successful. The expedition was scientifically successful as we had achieved the objective of estimating blue sheep abundance in this entire maze. We had been able to see all the animal species present here. And we had managed to penetrate deep enough inside the fortress of Gya to get a sight of the King!

In which the rocks came alive

2010-06-28T17:32:00.015+05:30

“I am sure, that rock wasn't there in the morning” I confidently told Takpa. He had a notorious smile on his face, and sarcastically said “Ya, now you can identify rocks too”. But this rock had too peculiar a shape for anyone to have missed.

I was in the village of Kibber in Spiti, Himachal Pradesh working on human-snow leopard conflicts. Today I was scheduled to leave for a remote place in the mountains to try and collect snow leopard faeces samples for molecular analysis. Our team composing of six field staff, two Guides and myself managed to squeeze into our Maruti gypsy and were ready to head off for our poop collection expedition. Just as we were about to leave I got a call from my co-supervisor Yash Veer. He was submitting a funding proposal on my behalf and the deadline was next day. The proposal was far from complete; thanks to me. I hadn't been able to send the completed draft due to lack of Internet access. Yash Veer was filling in the blanks for me but requested me to stay around the phone for the next 24 hours until he submits the proposal; in case he needed some clarification. That was a disappointing news for all as we were all set for our poop collection expedition. I tried to console them by telling them that such is the life of a researcher “Sometimes you spend more time writing for grants than the actual research itself”.

Kibber

Disappointed all of us got out of the vehicle and headed back home. I sat by the phone working on my computer. Our base camp is on the southern edge of the kibber Village. The southern most room of the camp gets brilliant sunlight in the afternoon. With large glass windows, and a splendid view of the mountains, this room stays warm even in the the cold march days. I spend all my free afternoons sitting here and reading. I sat there with the phone by my side, thinking of how it would have been had we been out in the field. What all could we have seen? By now I was very familiar with the entire snow-scape in front of this window. I sat there staring out for a long time. I don't remember how long but soon it was evening. Takpa came in with two cups of tea and started updating me on Spiti gossip. I was listening to him with one ear, the other had a earphone playing music, an eye on the computer screen where I had a paper open for the last few hours and one eye on the mountain slopes outside the window. There was a peculiarly shaped rock protruding out of the snow. I ignored it at first but then I knew I hadn't seen this one before. I told this to Takpa. After an initial reaction of sarcasm even he got suspicious. Suddenly I felt the rush of Adrenaline. Both of us rushed and grabbed two pairs binoculars. Confirmed! The rock was a snow leopard!! Actually two snow leopards!!!

The snow leopards seemed to be getting ready for their evening prowl. They were about 300 metres from the village, across a deep gorge. The gorge must have assured the snow leopards of their safety from the humans and dogs of the Kibber village. Hidden from the snow leopard's view we sneaked up to the edge of the gorge. We made ourself comfortable in a rock crevice and started observing the snow leopards. They were still sitting, cuddled together, in the same place. The first question that popped up in my head was 'what was the relation between them? Mother and cub? A courting pair? Siblings just weaned off?' The behavioural interaction between them could provide a cue. Suddenly there was a loud scream. More like honking than a scream. It was like an alarm call of the Jackal. Takpa pointed to a red fox that had almost bumped into the leopards. The fox seemed to have had an heart attack. It just froze there for over a minute. Only a few tens of feet from the snow leopards (by the way, even a few hundred feet is a very small distance for the open trans-Himalayan region where things can be seen from at least a few kilometres). The fox started running with loud honking calls and never looked back until it was out of sight (yes a few kilometres!). The loud screaming of the fox alerted something else. there was a herd of 25 ibex sitting right next to us (a few hundred feet). We had missed them in our excitement of seeing the snow leopards but I felt proud of us to have sneaked up so close without letting them know or may be they knew of our presence but recognised us as the same harmless Homo sapiens who spy on them during their rutting season.

I had seen multiple snow leopards roaming together on one more occasion. It was around two years ago. Even then the toughest thing was to identify the relationship between them. I had also heard many accounts of the local people sighting multiple snow leopards together. While most of these were about two or three leopards, some people claimed to have seen four and five animals together. One account claimed to have seen seven together and another claims that a bus load of people saw 11 snow leopards cross the road. I could only find one passenger of the bus; the person who told me this account. I am interested in this question of the social behaviour of solitary cat because some of the radio telemetry studies have shown that snow leopards are not as territorial as other large cats. Even males, at times, show a 100% overlap in their home ranges. Even NCF's own camera trapping exercise shows that about 5 adult snow leopards simultaneously use the area around Kibber. What is interesting to know is, are these overlapping individuals related to each other or is it just a random mix of 'everybody's welcome'. NCF's camera trapping exercise has captured photos of two animals who have lost their tails to some accident. Most likely, in fights with other snow leopards. Over what? Still remains an unanswered question. This is some evidence of violent conflict between snow leopards suggesting that territory overlapping might not be as random as a coin-flip model would predict.

One of the two snow leopards got up, stretched and started walking. The other one followed. I was waiting for some interaction between them that might hint at their relationship with each other. Without a warning the leading snow leopard broke into a run then turned around and challenged the second one. They got into a playful fight and started tumbling down the snow slope. Seeing this display the ibex got into a fright and started frantically whistling in alarm. This interrupted the snow leopards' play. This repeated a few times. The leopards would get into a play fight and the ibex would whistle in alarm and the leopards would sit staring at the ibex. This went on till it was too dark to see any thing. Lucky for the ibex, them and the leopards were on different sides of the gorge. Once darkness fell upon the us there was a pin drop silence. Just the hush of the wind. Although we could not see the cats, we were waiting for them to move and hoped to pick up their moving silhouette on the snow lit up by the bleak light of the stars.

Snow leopards are nocturnal and sooner or later they would make their move. We picked up two ghostly shadows moving across the snow but soon disappear in to mosaic of snow and rock of the cliffs. Once in the cliffs it is difficult to spot a snow leopard even in the bright light of the day. Now at eight thirty at night their was no hope of seeing them again before dawn. The mercury had also fallen below freezing. It was time to head back home.

We were back at the same spot early next day. We scanned the entire valley for their signs. Looked for some ibex carcass that they might have been killed; some place where the vultures could be hovering. But no trace of the snow leopards. The wind had even cleared their pugmarks from the cliffs.

That night, on my way back, all I was thinking of was the leopards playing. I was trying to understand their relationship with each other. Were they a mother and cub? a courting pair? or siblings who have weaned of only recently? I will never know. But I hope to see them again and understand as much about their world as I can.

Another day in paradise

2010-02-17T12:53:00.007+05:30

It was a warm day with early morning temperature around –16º C. I was in Spiti the Trans-Himalayan region of Himalchal pradesh. The Spiti valley cuts a wide gorge between the greater Himalayas and the Zanskar range. Climate and geography of the valley is similar to the Tibetan plateau. With temperature dropping as low as -35º C and wind lashing the valley throughout, winter in Spiti are harsh.

Early morning start

I was here to study the winter foraging behaviour of blue sheep. As the famous wildlife biologist Dr. George Schaller describes in his book 'Mountain Monarchs', the blue sheep is species of wild goat with sheep like traits. They are found all across the Tibetan plateau and greater Himalayas. I was to spend the winter in Spiti following the blue sheep and meticulously recording its foraging behaviour and food plants.

That day I left camp at 6 am in the morning. By half past seven I was at the spot where I had last seen the blue sheep the day before. I was disappointed not to find them there. I thought they would have gone beyond the next roll of the hill but I was disappointed again. After spending over two hours looking for my study herd I was tired and decided to rest for a while before resuming my search.
I noticed an unfamiliar bird hovering high up over me; it turned out to be the upland buzzard. There was also a golden eagle flying below me in the Shilla gorge. It was a good opportunity to photograph the king of the Himalayan birds. I pulled out my camera but it refused to start, I guess I had used up all the battery and the remaining had been drained by the cold.
I started scanning the huge pasture in front of me for signs of the blue sheep when suddenly the cliffs below me came alive. A huge chunk fell to deep gorge below. By now I was used to seeing rock falls but I had never imagined anything of this scale. A deep silence followed the thunder of the rock fall.

Two Adult male blue sheep

A chirpy whistle broke the silence of the mountains. This is the blue sheep alarm whistle, it rang from somewhere very close but I could not see the animal that made it. Then some thing moved; a group of twelve blue sheep. I could now start the systematic data collection.
Over an hour passed without much activity in the blue sheep herd. The sky turned grey and feathery flakes of powder snow filled the air. My body was stiffened by just sitting there in the cold. Not even a trickle flowed in the gorge below. The whole canyon was frozen. Boulders covered with snow, leafless trees, nothing but some rocks that occasionally fall to the gorge below.

This time the silence was broken by a movement. This was not a falling rock; it did not make any sound. I was carefully looking at the slope where, I thought, I saw the movement. It moved again and I saw it this time… The Ghost of the mountains, a snow leopard!!! It was so well camouflaged that I would have never noticed its presence had it not moved. The blue sheep were still unaware of the snow leopard but even the snow leopard was unaware of the blue sheep. It was on a ledge at about 400 feet below me and below the blue sheep.
He must have been there all the while but I had not noticed it until the movement. The snow leopard seemed young; a little small in size to be an adult. I was trying to pick out any peculiarities that I might find so as to identify the particular individual but it was almost impossible to pick out any details. It then got up and started walking along the cliff. I knew exactly where that ledge would lead him to.

The Snow leopard peeping from his hideout

Now the quest for me was to reach the starting point of the ledge before the snow leopard and hide there to get a better look at it. I dashed at a full speed. I was struggling due to the thin air of the altitude. The start of the ledge is slightly broad and has a little grass on it so it was no surprise to find a herd of bharal grazing there. Seeing the blue sheep in the path of the approaching snow leopard two things I was certain about; the snow leopard has not turned up yet and when it gets here there is going to be scene. A while passed which seemed like hours but there was no sign of the snow leopard. The weather had now turned windy and with the sun behind the clouds the cold started to freeze my sweat on my cloths. I was considering the thought that the leopard might have turned and gone. But suddenly another alarm whistle; the snow leopard was close by. I could not see it but guessing from the blue sheep’s reactions I knew he was very close. The blue sheep all ran away and I still had not managed to see the leopard. After a bit of scanning the ledge with my binocular I found him sitting under an over hanging rock; perfectly camouflaged. He was indeed a little young. On many occasions I had seen two sets of pug marks in this area. Pug marks of a mother and her cub. I wondered if this snow leopard was one of them and also if it was him then where was his mother.
Soon, Takpa my friend and assistant, turned up. He had a hard time finding me in these cliffs but he jumped with excitement when he saw the snow leopard. Just then without warning the leopard got up and started walking towards the river below. We lost the snow leopard in the boulders and snow at the bottom of the valley.

Takpa sitting in the cold collecting information on blue sheep behaviour

Suddenly I became concious of my surroundings. Over six inches of snow had accumulated; quit remarkable for one day in the Trans-Himalaya. Temperature had further dropped and only when I tried to move did I realise that my feet had frozen solid. We had been sitting there in the cold for a long time. Takpa quickly gathered some twigs and lit a small fire under a over hanging rock. I left a gasp as the warm blood rushed to my feet causing intense pain. It was getting dark and we had to leave soon. Others at the camp would start worrying if we didn't get back soon. We headed for camp after one last look at the bedding site chosen for the day by the blue sheep. We knew where to find them tomorrow.

Being a nomad in the Trans-Himalaya

2009-11-24T12:00:00.004+05:30

The people I work with, people from Kibber, are not nomads. They are settled Agro-pastoralists, growing barley and green peas along with rearing livestock. With green pea fetching good price in the markets of Delhi the dependence of these people is shifting from livestock to farming (agriculture).

But last year I got an opportunity to experience the nomadic lives of the Changpa people of the Tibetan plateau. Some Changpa people had travelled to Kibber and I had briefly spoken to them about their lives. I really fantasised their ways of the horse back living. Very soon I got an opportunity to survey some very remote areas of Himachal Pradesh. These areas could only be accessed from Changthang (Ladakh) as it was already November and all the high passes were closed. But accessing this place from Changthang meant that the expedition will have to be a large one as the approach march was over 150 km through very remote area. With winter approaching there was a serious threat of getting stuck due to sudden heavy snowfall.

The strategy had to be a mixed one. I wanted to light and fast like an Alpinist but also wanted to reduce the risk of getting stuck in deep in the remote area so I needed a back up to get out should things go wrong. And the solution clear... do it the changapa way.. the way of the Tibetan nomads.

A team of six people and six horses and off we went

The team (from right) Kalzang Pulzor, Rinchen, Tenzin Thillay, Sheru, Chudim and Me

The plateau around Tso Khar

The Water of Tso Moriri

Tso Moriri and Gya peak in the Distance. Gya is the tallest peak of Himachal Pradesh

After a break

45km Along the banks of Tso Moriri

Thats me

Kalzang Pulzor

I raced ahead to photograph a Black-necked crane. Other coming to join me.

After 45 km we could turn around and still see the spot where we started from earlier in the day. Its just a vast bowl.

Small snow melt feeding the Tso

Tea time

In the middle of nowhere we say a Horse! yes its a horse not a Kiang. It had probably escapes from one of the nomad camps and then just got lost in the vast landscape. Then began the chase of the cowboys to tame the wild mustang. We caught him and then after the expedition left him at Korzok for the owner to come and find him.

Our horses would graze throughout the night and we would round them up at day time. Early morning the horses are grazing my the Tso

The Camp

Once away from the Tso. the floor was very sandy

It feels like a scene form a desert but its sub zero temperature.

The survey was a success. We (including the horses) also managed to come back safe and sound. The same way as we went. It was the most amazing horse riding of my life.

The Glacier man

2009-11-02T18:33:00.003+05:30

I never got an opportunity to meet Mr. Chewang Norphel but have heard a lot about him and his work. Mr. Norphel, inspired by the simple idea that water freezes faster if it is spread out and that direct sunlight melts ice faster, made something that transformed the lives of thousands of mountain agro-pastoralist. Using simple principles of freezing water and melting ice Mr. Norphel made an artificial glacier. Yes, a man-made glacier, mammoth in size and usefulness. The Science magazine covered an article about him and his work. I have pasted excerpts from the article. I will let the science mag explain the rest. While scientist are working to understand and conserve what we have, here we have an engineers who is trying to find ways to adapt to the change

STAKMO, INDIA—At more than 4000 meters above sea level in the trans-Himalayas, the air is so thin that it can be a struggle simply to breathe. Yet Chewang Norphel is almost jogging across the boulder-strewn landscape, with goatlike agility that belies his 74 years. Tonight, he will sleep in a tent 1000 meters higher up, at temperatures that dip 10°C below freezing, so as to continue his work in the morning. And what unusual work it is: Norphel makes glaciers. He takes a barren, high-altitude desert and turns it into a field of ice that supplies perfectly timed irrigation water to some of the world’s poorest farmers. So far, Norphel has built 10 artificial glaciers, which sustain crops that feed some 10,000 people. It’s become his obsession. “When it is very cold and very diff icult
work, I have to remain focused. All I can think about is making the most successful glacier,” he says. Legend has it that villagers in nearby Pakistan once grew glaciers to block Genghis Khan and his Mongol warriors from advancing through mountain passes, but until Norphel came along there was little evidence that man could reliably duplicate this geological
trick. Thanks to his talent, Norphel is now known as “Glacier Man” among the locals in these mountains. Wearing a beige sweater, gray pants, and a pair of leather lace-up shoes, he looks more schoolteacher than superhero,
but Norphel has arguably pulled off something miraculous, doubling agriculture yields in one of the most climate-change ravaged regions in the world. Part engineer, hydrologist, and glaciologist, Norphel has had to create his own field of expertise. “What he has achieved in such circumstances, in remote parts of this mountainous desert, is remarkable,” says Pankaj Chandon, coordinator of the WWF-India’s High Altitude Wetlands Conservation Programme in the Himalayas, based in Leh, who has followed Norphel’s progress over the past decade. “It is testament to his sheer force of character. But also, he has come up with a unique, innovative idea that provides water when it is needed. It is a fantastic adaptation technology for the climate changes that we are experiencing in this region.”

Vanishing ice and a gush of inspiration
By the time Norphel retired in 1995, priorities among Ladakhis were shifting from roadbuilding to a far more serious problem: water scarcity. “Glaciers were vanishing and streams were disappearing,” Norphel says. “People would beg me to bring them water. Their irrigation systems were drying up and their harvests were failing. The government was starting to bring in grain rations.” In the so-called rain shadow of the Himalayas, Ladakh receives just 5 centimeters of rainwater a year—about the same as the Sahara desert. The population is entirely dependent on the melting of glaciers and snow. But global warming has hit this region particularly hard. The tree line has risen more than 150 meters during Norphel’s lifetime, and glaciers have retreated by as much as 10 kilometers. Above the small village of Stakmo, Norphel points up at the dark rock slopes rising from the valley. “There were two large glaciers here and here,” he says, “and many smaller ones that only persisted during wintertime.” The glaciers that remain are now far from the villages and at high altitudes where they don’t produce significant meltwater until May or June. That’s too late to help local farmers. Because they experience such a brief summer,
villagers must plant their one annual crop of barley, peas, or wheat by late March; otherwise it won’t mature before winter arrives in September, after which the temperature drops below –30°C. By the mid-’90s, Norphel was living in the small village of Skarra, a few kilometers outside of Leh, with his wife and a daughter they adopted from one of his brothers. Determined to address the irrigation problem, Norphel came upon inspiration within 100 meters of his house, one bitingly cold winter morning. “I saw water gushing from a pipe and was thinking what a shame it is that so much abundant water is wasted during wintertime—the taps are left open to stop the water freezing in the pipes and bursting them,” he says. “Then I noticed that on its route to the stream, the water crossed a small wooded field, where it was collecting in pools. Where the trees provided shade, it was freezing into ice patches. By early March, the ice patches melted.”
Norphel realized that if he could somehow copy this on a much larger scale, he would have a way of storing up this winter water in an artificial glacier that would melt at just the right time for crop sowing and irrigation.

Write to me if you want the full article

The Mysteries of the Lingti Valley

2009-09-08T08:13:00.007+05:30

Lingti is a little known valley in eastern Spiti in Himachal Pradesh. The valley is bound from all sides by high Himalayan peaks and ridges. To the north is the massive Gya peak (6794m); the highest in Himachal Pradesh. Gya Peak is at the tri-junction of Ladakh, Tibet and Spiti. From Lingti valley, towards North-east across the ridge connecting Gya with Shijibang (5990m) peaks is Tibet. To the North-west across the ridge connecting Gya and Parilungbi (6166m) peaks is Ladakh. To the west and south the valley is bounded by the ridge-line connecting Parilungbi-Lakhang (6250m)-Shilla (6132m) -Cho-cho Khang Nilda (6380m)-Tserip (5974m) and Kuwa (6008) peaks. Lingti itself is born out of the massive glacier at the feet of Parilungbi. The river initially flows south east for about 20km where it meets another branch called the Chaksachan Lungba (river) coming from north. The Chaksachen lungba is born from the glaciers of Gya. Lingti then bends sharp 90° and flows south-west. Before exiting the gorge it is joined by the Syarma nala from west. It then carves a narrow gorge cutting the Sisbang ridge and the Cho-cho Khang Nilda ridge and flows out to join the Spiti River at a point almost opposite to the junction of the Spiti and Pin rivers.

Map Of Lingti valley

'Lingti' is an instrument that cuts rock, as it literally means in Spitian. The rapidly flowing white water of the glacial melt has carved a deep gorge through an otherwise rolling steppe landscape, thus probably the name. The river cuts a narrow gorge with towering rock faces along both banks. These rocky steep banks rise up, almost near vertical, until it reaches the edge of the plateau. Here the valley suddenly opens up into a flat dish of rolling hills. The plateau stretches in all directions until it approaches the ridge-line fence created by the mountains all around the valley. Here the rolling hills immediately start rising and turn into massive rock and ice slopes leading to the top of the various mountains peaks and ridges.

The steep walls of the Lingti gorge provide good snow leopard habitat

Lingti valley is surely a mountaineers paradise. But due to the remoteness of this valley few mountaineers venture here. The first outsiders to visit this valley was an expedition led by Harish Kapadia in 1983. They managed to penetrate the valley halfway and then turned their attention towards Cho-cho Khang Nilda and surrounding peaks. The same expedition returned in 1987 and managed to reach the source of Lingti and even climb Parilungbi. Since then hardly any expeditions have come this way. Recently Gya was climbed from this side by another Indian expedition, but overall very few have made it this far.

In the distance are two member of the team surveying for snow leopards and blue sheep

At the same time Lingti is a geologist's goldmine too. It is a living museum that has preserved over 250 million years of geological history in the form of shales and fossils. The ammonite and belemnite fossils from here are known world over. Many theories are based on the geological studies carried out here. Fossils collected by Dr. Richard Hey in 1955 are still preserved at the Sedgwick Museum in Cambridge. But, little was know about the wildlife of this remote valley until very recently. Till the last decade most of our knowledge about the wildlife of this valley came from the anecdotes reported by adventurers and mountaineers who visited this area. In mid 1980's this valley was notified as part of the Kibber Wildlife Sanctuary.

This region is so remote that there is not a single village in about 400 km2 of the upper habitable part of this valley. Historically there was a village called 'Uhlshikpo' within this valley, which moved out due to its remoteness around 80-100 years ago. Now only the ruins of 'Uhlshikpo remain inside the valley. Although this valley is along the border with Tibet there are no passes crossing from Lingti to Tibet and so this region has received relatively little attention from Army or the Border Police Force, except for some routine patrols.

The ruins of Uhlshikpo

Last year, I got the opportunity to survey this hidden valley and prepare a plan for the management of this valley for the conservation of its wildlife wealth. This exercise was a part of the collaborative effort between Himachal Pradesh Forest Department and Nature Conservation Foundation on Management planning of the region. The task had to begin from documenting what wildlife existed inside Lingti, then assessing its status and recommending suitable interventions for its long-term survival. This survey was to be a tough challenge. Along with difficult terrain there was also the thunderous rock cutting river torrent. To get into Lingti one requires crossing the river many times. It meant that for any kind of survey we had to wait till the water was at its lowest. I decided to attempt this in late autumn and early winter. At the beginning of winter the water level in the river goes down and ice bridges are formed all across the river making the river crossing relatively easier. But, the early winter cold makes camping in the open a miserable experience.

Crossing the Lingti

I needed a tough team for this kind of a survey. The members not only had to be physically extremely fit but also knowledgeable about conducting wildlife surveys. They had to be able to identify animals based on their signs such as droppings and spoors (footprints in soft soil or snow) and be able to use technical equipment such as Global Positioning System (GPS). I found such knowledgeable and fit people in the Kibber Youth Council. The Kibber Youth Council had been helping us (Nature Conservation Foundation) with wildlife conservation programs in the main Spiti valley for over ten years. The team members were Sushil, Kalzang, Thillay, Kalzang Pulzor, Chudim, Rinchen, Sheru, Thukten and myself.

The team: (from left to right) Thukten II, Kalzang, Thukten, me, Kalzang Pulzor, Chudim, Rinchen, Thillay and Sheru

We began our survey from Lalung (3776m); a village located very close to the confluence of Lingti and Spiti. With a population of about 370 people and 55 houses Lalung is a largish village by Spitian Standard. I wasn't surprised to know that very few people from this village had ever been inside the Lingti Valley. As metal roads and electricity penetrated deep into the mountains and reached this village, their lifestyle changed dramatically. People became more market dependent; selling their crop of pea and buying the grocery from stores in Kaza (the administrative headquarter of Spiti) became the norm of life. No more is there a need for them to go deep inside Lingti valley to graze their livestock or find wood to make the plough or building. While we heard tales of snow leopards and blue sheep from the valley we got little credible information.

It was time for the actual survey. Thukten II the herder from Lalung was hired as our guide. The trek to Phiphuk, the center of the valley, was arduous; we kept walking over the frozen bed of the Lingti but occasionally the ice sheet under our feet became too thin for comfort and we had to hop from one boulder to another. At the same time, all of us were top heavy, carrying ration for 15 days of stay and thus progress was extremely slow. The first day we camped at Kibri. Before the last light of the day our spirits were rejuvenated as we spotted a herd of 20 blue sheep grazing on the steep banks nearby. The second day of trek was full of excitement as we kept encountering fresh snow leopard pugmarks all along the trail. We kept expecting a surprise at every bend in the trail. That evening we reached 'Phiphuk' (4005m). We decided to make this our base camp due to its central location in the valley. This was to be our home for the next two weeks. The prospects seemed very promising; we had seen many snow leopard signs around the base-camp itself and even sighted a few blue sheep nearby.

Over the next few days we split into three teams of three each and systematically surveyed every side valley and plateau. The first couple of days our team comprising of Sushil, Kalzang Pulzor and myself surveyed the areas around Lakshithang (4560m) and Saktichen (4530m). During these days we would cross the Kuli la (4880m) every day to reach the survey area but it was worth the effort as we encountered over 100 blue sheep in this region. We surveyed the area up to Chaksachen La (5230m) beyond this we knew that the habitat was not very conducive for any mammal. While our team toiled up to Kuli la-Saktichen and back every day other teams fought their way to high pastures of Sheru (4500m), 'Uhlshipo ruins' and Syarma la (4767m). During the day all three teams would head out with GPS and notebook in hand but come evening we would huddle together in the tiny camp and share the days experience. The tiny camp and the huddling helped us stay warm.

Surveying the plateau

The last area to be surveyed was the Syarma nala. We decided to survey it on our way back. The day we wrapped up from Phiphuk our team broke camp early and headed for Syarma nala. We had the huge task of covering the whole Syarma nala in one day. Effectively it meant walking over 35 km in a day. The distance felt even longer in the thin air and cold at that altitude. By evening we were proud of what we had done. We had surveyed the whole area and confirmed the presence of at least 108 blue sheep in that area. But the biggest prize of the day was to encounter pugmarks of a mother and cub snow leopard.

Late evening the three of us reached the place that the others had chosen for the days camp. It was a tiny cave along the frozen river and a little sand bank separating the river from the cave mouth. Tired with a hard days work Sushil, Kalzang and me were the first to get into our sleeping bags. But soon the tiny cave became suffocating and claustrophobic; partly because there were ten of us trying to squeeze inside the tiny cave. Finally Sushil and I gave up; we picked up our sleeping bags and came under the stars on the sand bank. The sky was clear and the night extremely cold. We spread our sleeping bags next to the frozen river and tried to sleep. It was the coldest night of my life. I dozed on and off but couldn't sleep. I watched the stars drift by softly. 'Cygnus' - The Swan, 'Pegasus', 'Andromeda', 'Taurus'-The Bull, 'Orion'-the Hunter all the star constellations passed by slowly. I kept wishing that a snow leopard would pass by but even if it did I wouldn't have seen it in the dark. And then there was a faint glow in the eastern sky. While it was still soft glow Kalzang brew some tea. We all sat around the cooking fire huddled together discussing the night. When suddenly we heard a movement. All of strained our eye to see what made the sound; secretly wishing it to be a snow leopard. It was a stone marten, a great sighting nevertheless. In fact all of us had seen the snow leopard more number of times than a stone marten. Although stone martens are common in other parts of the world they are relatively rare here. It was only my second time. A great farewell from Lingti. The next day we came back to Lalung.

'Orion'-The Hunter

During the survey, together we encountered hundreds of snow leopard pugmarks, scrapes and feces. Based on the signs, we cannot estimate the number of snow leopards but we could conclusively say that there was a healthy population of snow leopards in the valley. Also there seemed to be a healthy prey base for the snow leopard based on the good population of the blue sheep. We encountered over 350 blue sheep (counted without repetition). We also came across more than 10 carcasses of blue sheep killed by snow leopards. Throughout the survey we never encountered signs of Tibetan wolves. Although a few people from Lalung said that they had, in the past, seen wolves inside the Lingti Valley, I was skeptical of these reports as the habitat in much of Lingti is not suitable for an open country species such as wolf. Apart from a healthy prey-predator system (snow leopard-blue sheep) we also encountered other smaller mammals such as the red fox, woolly hare, pika and the very rare stone marten.

The survey information and our interaction with the villagers of Lalung formed the core of the management plan for this region. Lingti promises to be the long-term future for the survival of the snow leopard and other rare wildlife of the high Himalaya. The villagers of Lalung also take pride in being the guardians of Lingti. All throughout it was a satisfying experience to unfold the mysteries of the Lingti Valley.

Driving to the roof top... of the world

2009-08-20T17:29:00.018+05:30

It all began at the coffee table when Charu asked me if I drive. I said yes with an expression of obviousness although I had never driven by myself from one district to the other. Charu asked if I needed a vehicle for my next project in Himachal. Obviously the answer to a question like that can never be a 'No'. But the best part was that the vehicle was in Guwahati, Assam and my project in Spiti, Himachal. That meant I get to drive the vehicle (a white Maruti Gypsy) form Assam to Himachal and there onwards to Leh.

Dharma in the Vehicle at the start of the drive in Assam

Driving over 3000 km all by myself was a little risky, especially with my limited understanding of engines. The only thing that I could repair by myself was a tire puncture so the task now was to find a partner who could drive and knew more about Maruti vehicles than me. My problem was solved by Dharma. Dharma is my M.Sc. class mate, he has been diving a Maruti Esteem for ages, he drove much better than me and we were good friends. I could pay for his travel from Bangalore to Guwahati and back from Spiti to Bangalore through the money I had at my disposal to pay a driver for the same task.

As we started from Guwahati our first stop was just within 20 km of the town; the Pigmy Hog Centre. Pygmy hog (Porcula salvania) is a critically endangered suid survived by less than 150 individuals in the wild. They were declared extinct some time ago but then one last population was rediscovered in Manas National Park, Assam. At this centre they are being breed in captivity and released in the wild to increase the population in the wild.

The worlds smallest and most endangered pig

By the time we left the Pygmy hog centre it was already late. We knew we will have to drive into the night. By night it started pouring. The rain was so hard that I could see only the wind screen. We crossed the border into West Bengal at midnight. Next morning we hit the road before sunrise. Around ten we heard that the Highway we crossed last night has been washed away. Hush.. we got out in time.

Crossing the Brahmaputra

West Bengal was fun. The roads were good. Punjabi truckers were happy to see some Hindi speakers.

Flooding Teesta

I had been warned about Bihar. Beware the Ganges is flooding. Beware of dacoits. Beware of bad roads, Beware of people and many more bewares... We were cautious and may be thats the reason why we didn't have any incident. We did try to look for Gangetic river Dolphins in the Ganges at Bhagalpur but no luck. Actually we were unsure which way to look because the flooding ganges had broken its banks and the whole of Bihar (or so it seemed) was under water. People were literally living on the Highway which is just a few meters higher than the surrounding fields.

Dharma looking for River Dolphins

The Flooding Ganges

The Flooding Ganges

Post Bihar the drive was more mechanistic. It was all about changing gears and watching out for the next truck. Although I developed a lot of respect for truckers as I realised that they are the ones who follow all the rules religiously and it was we, city drivers, who try to squeeze our little cars wherever there is even an inch of ground available. Somewhere around Allahabad I had some problem with the wiring of the horn and so I had to pull aside to try and fix it. I got off and suddenly realised that there were two magnificent Sarus cranes in the field right next to the road.

Sarus cranes

We then stayed at Delhi for a day and pushed of to Manali the next. The drive from Delhi to Manali was all about great roads (clocking 90 km/hr) and welcoming mountains. Unfortunately Dharma had to turn back from Manali. The toughest leg of the drive and I was alone. But even this leg was to be nothing compared to what I would go though ever day when I start using this Gypsy for my field work in Spiti. Everydays drive in Spiti is going to be much more difficult.

Getting into Spti

I started from Manali at first light and didn't stop until Batal; that's about 130 km and at halfway. Had a great lunch there and got ready for the steep climb to Kunzum pass standing at 4550m. Only a km into the second leg of the drive and I had my first flat tire since Assam, Welcome to Spiti. It didn't take too long for me to fix it but I was angry at the french tourists who passed by in a taxi laughing at me. I had to catch them and show them that I wasn't a tourist like them but a regular guy here. So I drove the ride of my life and made it to the top of Kunzum before the bloody French. I felt as if I had just beaten Alain Prost.

I pulled into Kibber (4200m) by 5 o clock in the evening, a surprise to a lot of Spitians. The poor old kullusingh has a car now. Well they don't recognise project car from personal car. Anyways I was there at the roof of the world and it snowed the next day... Over two feet. two days later when I tried to start the car, the cooling fan shattered to pieces, while shattering it punctured the radiator so all the cool-lent drained out, the timing belt went flying off, the axle of the timing wheel broke and the car was almost dead. Watching this some local guy said "High altitude sickness". But I was in Spiti and nothing could go wrong now. I partied hard until the vehicle got fixed and then drove it for 7000 km during my research project. Spitians call that car 'Dadima' but its still in a great condition and I hope to do my PhD 'in' it.

Dadima under heap of snow

Day of the Shingu-Tibetan Wolf

2009-08-13T12:53:00.005+05:30

I reached Tashigang on an early December afternoon. The small hamlet of six houses was almost empty but for a stray dog that ran across the road. Cloud of dust followed me as I walked the street. All around me was dust and small patches of dry grass. It all felt like a scene from one of Clint Eastwood’s Wild West flicks. But the towering beacon of Cho-Cho Kang Nilda standing at 6300 meters above sea level with its snow cap glittering in the afternoon sun brought me back to reality. I was in a Trans-Himalayan village at 4350 meters above sea level in the Kibber Wildlife Sanctuary. Even at peak noon the temperature remained 15 degrees below freezing. Kibber Wildlife Sanctuary with a mean altitude of 4500 meters above sea level is one of the best the habitat for some of the rare high altitude wild animals like bharal, ibex, snow leopard and the Tibetan wolf.

I was in the Kibber wildlife sanctuary to start the field work for my masters, dissertation project on the winter foraging strategies of bharal (Pseudois nayaur). Kalzang Pulzor and Tenzin Takpa were to help me with my field work. We had set up our camp at Tashigang (4350 mts above sea level). Tashigang is well tucked inside the mountains and with only twenty permanent residents it feels especially remote during winters. Since the day I reached here I had been hearing about a pack of eight wolves (Tibetan wolves Canis lupus chanco) that had frequently been seen around the village. The boldness of this pack had made them the talk of most villages of the Kibber plateau but in-spite of their frequent visits relatively little livestock had been attacked. People were not despising the presence of the wolves very much but past memories of them killing as many as 20 sheep and goat in a night haunted many and kept them on their guards.

It was the seventh day since the field work started. We were well acclimatised and had taken to the field work with great enthusiasm. Today my thermometer read a minimum of twenty-one degree Celsius below zero. As soon as the sun came up Kalzang and I were out searching for the group of sixty bharal that we had seen the previous evening. This is also the rutting season of the bharal. We were quit interested in seeing the males clash their horn for the right over the females of the herd. Today the herd split in two, the larger herd numbering thirty-four and the smaller one with twenty-six bharal. So we also decided to split, Kalzang went towards the smaller group while I followed the larger.

By mid afternoon the bharal settled down at around a hundred meters higher from the cliffs. I also settled down in the middle of some boulders so as to have the bharal in sight but protect myself from the cold wind that had picked up by now. I was at a height same as the bharal but perfectly concealed from any observer lower down by the boulders. An hour went by and the bharal were still resting. I suddenly spotted some movement in the cliffs and rocks below…Wolves!!! Eight of them. The bharal had not seen them yet, they could hardly see in that direction from their lying position. The bharal had been focusing mainly on the side away from the cliffs. The wolves then spread out and charged up the gentle surge of the hill that connected the bharal to the cliff. The charge was being led by two adult wolves, followed by four more, and followed by two that were barely staggering behind. Before I could turn my attention to the bharal I heard the thunder of their hooves. They were charging towards… The CLIFFS!!!!... The direction of the wolf charge and their positioning had placed them between the cliffs and the bharal. The wolves were actually trying to cut the bharal from the cliffs. The bharal ran at a slight angle to the wolves but still towards the cliffs. The task for the wolves was to isolate a single bharal and course it down before the herd could make it to the cliffs. The thundering hooves whooooshed past the two leading wolves and down on the cliffs in a blink. The bharal were so tightly clustered that they felt as one body. The wolves never had a chance to focus on any single individual. The wolves had to give up their chase. Everything happened in a flash; only at the end did I realise that I had a camera in my back pack. The bharal stood wide eyed watching the wolves from the safety of the cliffs. The wolves gave up and soon left towards a nearby rangeland. That’s where kalzang had gone following the smaller group of bharal so I was sure he would get to see the wolves.

Although the charge failed, the well-organised attack of the wolves impressed me out of my wits. But what was even more impressive was the escape behaviour of bharal. After all, a herd of wild goats, without a leader, had organised a group escape plan against a fairly large, well organised, well commanded, pack of one of the fiercest hunters. The bharal did not have a second’s time to communicate. The decision of the bharal, to head for the cliffs was risky enough, as they were not running away from the wolves but, in a way, towards them, although at a slight angle. The key to the escape had been in their cohesion. Any straggler, or some individual that would have dared run away from the cliff would definitely have been chased down. Any chaos in the initial moment would have given the wolves enough time to cut the escape to the cliffs completely.

No single individual could have led the bharal to the escape terrain. Many might not have had the opportunity to even know what they were running from. There was not enough time for any decision making on part of the bharal group. The leaderless bharal clearly followed a few simple rules of thumb, which characterise their herding behaviour. On an alarm signal, stay close to your neighbour and run for the nearest cliff, could have been the protocol. The wolves never had a chance to focus on a single individual in the mass of the thundering hooves as the bharal kept together. The simple thumb rules also avoided any form of chaos that could have happened had different individuals decided on different direction to run to for escape. Simple rules at the level of an individual that have evolved over thousands of years have led to a significant level of group intelligence.

Kalzang came running to where I was. Breathing hard in the thin air of the high altitude his face had turned red. “Shingu, eight shingu” (eight wolves) is all that he could say. I told him about every thing I saw. He told me that the wolves did not attack the smaller group of bharal as they had seen the wolves from far. We decided to follow the fresh spoors of the wolves. Soon we again saw a wolf. A lone sentry was sitting high up on a ridge. The pack must have been resting somewhere behind on the ridge while the sentry kept a look out. We then turned back towards camp.
Back at home we were anxious to narrate our experiences to Takpa who we thought was enjoying his rest day. But, Takpa had his own story to tell. Soon after we had left camp early morning he heard loud honking of the donkeys that were grazing in the nearby pasture. Takpa quickly made a dash for the place. A pack of eight wolves had brought down a donkey. It was Takpa’s donkey. The wolves did not get enough time to eat it as they fled on Takpas’ approach. Takpa was not all that disappointed as he knew he would receive compensation from the Livestock insurance scheme. This scheme was started in the region by Dr. Charudutt Mishra and the Nature Conservation Foundation along with the Kibber Youth Council. The program helped safeguard the interests of the local people against livestock depredation by wild carnivores and protect the wild carnivore from any form of retaliatory hunting.
Today the populations of ibex, bharal, wolves, snow leopard and many other small fauna have recovered in the sanctuary. Thanks to the many conservation programs started in the region by the Nature Conservation Foundation (NCF) along with the Kibber Youth Council. Programs like creation of village reserves and the livestock insurance scheme have helped both, the wildlife of the region and the local communities. The livestock free reserve has led to an increase in wild ungulate population thus widening the prey base for carnivores like the wolf and the snow leopard. Thanks to all these measures sighting a snow leopard or a wolf in the sanctuary is not as rare an event as in the past.
Takpa although having lost a donkey to the wolves ended his story saying “Aaj to shingu ka din nahi tha” ‘it was not the day of the wolves’ they will have to sleep on empty stomachs. But yes, the days of carnivores have now coming back to the sanctuary. The days of the shingu are back!!!

Wildlife of the High-altitudes of the Himalayas

2009-04-21T19:01:00.000+05:30

To the green pastures beyond

2009-04-04T02:36:00.000+05:30

Five steps and I again stopped to catch my breath. Panting I looked back; Sushil followed a few steps behind. Kalzang and Thukten were nowhere to be seen.”Lets rest while they catch up with us” I said to sushil and we sat down. I could see huge snow plumes rising from the summit and summit ridges of Kuwa (a 6000 meter high mountain). This was a signal that the winds were picking up and the weather was soon to deteriorate. Sushil and I faced our backs to the wind which by now must have been over 40 km/hr. We did not speak; our parched throats forbid that. A little later I could hear hard snow crumble under footsteps. Finally kalzang and Thukten had arrived. I turned back to face them. White lips, snow covered eyebrows; both of them just dropped next to us. I don’t remember how long we sat in silence. I looked around and only white glare reflecting from the snow met my eyes. Visibility had drastically dropped because of the snow drift being carried around by the hurricane forced winds. The four of us just remained silent. A thin sheet of snow covered our backs but no one bothered about it; we had bigger things to worry about.

A cold night under a overhanging cliff

Our hands were cold; throats dry, all the water we were carrying had frozen in our rucksacks; we were exhausted; dark storm clouds had built up and in within the next few minutes we lost the sunlight. With the wind picking up the temperature plummeted 30 below zero. I checked my GPS altimeter it read 5550 meters above sea level. We were almost there. The Shilla pass stands at 5670 meters above sea level. I could see the prayer flag of the pass rattle in the howling wind. Just 120 meter of the climb left and across lay the green pastures that we came hunting for.

I was surveying Spiti to help prepare the management plan for the Kibber Wildlife Sanctuary and the surrounding landscape. This time the Himachal Pradesh forest department had invited NCF to help prepare the management plan. This time the plan was to be prepared through participatory process and action. I was to interview villagers, examine their resource use patterns and the distribution of wildlife and assess human wildlife interaction relevant for the management plan. Since the study area contained many unexplored region of the Spiti Himalaya the work was both exiting and difficult.

Untouched...

One such completely unexplored region was the Lingti valley. Lingti is a tributary of the Spiti. It meets the Spiti very close to the junction of the Spiti and Pin rivers. Although wildlife in most other parts of the Spiti valley has been studied to an appreciable degree (4 PhD’s and a few smaller projects) almost nothing was know about the wildlife of Lingti valley. I was to be the lucky one to get the opportunity to explore this hidden valley.

Although Spiti is very sparsely populated the livestock density in this region is relative much higher. Previous research has shown this to be the single biggest threat to the wild ungulate population in the region. Overgrazing by seven different species of livestock over the last three millennia is also theorized to have competitively exterminated other species of wild herbivores such as the Tibetan Argali, Kiang, Tibetan Gazelle, Tibetan Antelope, Wild yak and marmots from this region. During my earlier survey I had confirmed a last remaining population of Marmots at the source of the Spiti River. But this hadn’t satisfied me. I was looking for something bigger, even if it could be a new population of the bharal or ibex; the two species of ungulates commonly found in Spiti. And I was very sure to find something big in the Lingti river valley. Not only are there no villages in this valley but also no herded livestock in this valley. Only about seventy domestic yaks use this over 250 km^2 of pastureland. The last wildlife surveyor to come here had visited this place in the 60’s and reported presence of wild yak from this region. This was an exciting piece in the literature but I was a little skeptic about this report because the habitat in the valley was completely different from that of the flat Tibetan plateau where the wild yak are know to be commonly occurring.

I always spent enough time in the villages gathering local information around the places to be surveyed. When we interacted with people from around the Lingti valley they told us that there are extensive plateaus inside the valley. Lush green pastures covered these plateaus from end to end. People told us about the ruin of ‘Yulshokpo’ an ancient village located inside the valley. The people of the village, as I was told, abandoned it because of its remoteness. People also believed that one could cross this valley and the mountains beyond and reach Ladakh. Many years ago a yak crossed the mountains and this valley and came into their village. It turned out that this yak was a domestic yak probably belonging to the ‘Changpa’ nomads of the ChangThang (Ladakh). And if a domestic yak could cross these barriers so could a wild yak, but the local people strongly believed that there were no wild yak in this valley. When I asked them about blue sheep and ibex they told me that there were no ibex in the valley but the numbers of blue sheep were huge. Some said that they had seen herds of as many as 120 blue sheep. But then they added that the blue sheep of the Lingti valley were not grey or blue, as many people see them, but ‘red’ in colour!!! I ignored the story of the red sheep the first time I heard it but I kept hearing the same story in all the villages that surround this valley. Sushil and I reasoned that these could be female ibex that people confused for blue sheep. This explanation for the story seemed reasonable as female and young male ibex are of the same size as the blue sheep, they don’t have noticeable curved horns and their coat colour is reddish brown. After discussing the matter over a few nights Sushil and I were convinced about the presence of ibex inside the Lingti valley.

Now the question was how to get into this valley. One way was to follow the Lingti river upstream but the current was very strong and thus crossing the river was almost impossible. To take this route we would have to wait till the river froze completely during peak winter and then walk over the sheet of ice. This ice sheet had started to build up but was yet too thin to walk over. The only other choice was to climb over one of the ridges that flank the valley and climb down into the valley. The lowest point on these ridges was at 5670 meter a place called the Shilla Jot. We would have to climb into this pass,an ascend of over 1400 meters from its base and descend into the valley beyond in one day. A difficult task but possible. I spoke to the elders of the village and asked for advice to climb this pass. They unanimously agreed that it was too late into the winter to climb a pass that high. But also agreed that this was my only chance to see the Lingti valley because according to them it would be suicidal to try to walk over the ice along the semi-frozen Lingti river. It was up to me to decide whether to walk the river or to climb into the pass.

I wanted to see this hidden valley badly and I decided to climb into the Shilla Jot and go across. I needed a small but strong team to do this. My plan was simple; a team of three or four strong climbers with every thing they need to survive in the high altitudes (ration, clothing, climbing equipment) on their backs should camp at the base of the pass on the first day. Then on the second they were to cross the Shilla Jot. Next seven days they were to survey the Lingti valley and finally come out the same way. I was aware that it was a ambitious plan; I was asking this team to carry rations for over ten days and climb mountains that need mountaineering expeditions to scale. But I knew that we were a team that could pull this with a little help from the weather gods.

‘Sushil’ the eldest and the strongest of us all was the first to volunteer for the team. ‘Kalzang’ a young wildlife enthusiast who was helping with the education program to spread the word of wildlife conservation amongst school kids jumped into the immediately after Sushil. ‘Thukten’ a local guy, had climbed to this pass many years ago, also wanted to come. The four of us made a good team with a strong chance of making it across and coming back.

And, after over six hours of climbing here we were 5550 meters up into the thin air; cold, exhausted and dehydrated. But, we were only 120 meters from the top of the pass. On the other side I did not expect such strong wind because that was the leeward slope. The top of the pass promised and end to all our miseries. But I was not sure if we had the strength left in us to reach the top. The last 120 meters was also relatively a difficult climb. Our backpacks were top heavy and did not have the same strength that we had in the morning. The chilly wind was sucking out every bit of strength out of us. These last few meters were also much more wind exposed.

Sushil was the first one to get up. The three of us silently followed behind him. The wind had picked up and it was carrying spindrift of snow with it. We could hardly see the man in front of us. The situation showed no sign of improvement. We would often be blown off balance by the wind and it kept getting worse. We had hardly climbed about 20 meters when all of us sat down again. It was time to reconsider our position. We were definitely not in a state to climb the last hundred meters of the climb; not in this weather. After having climbed 1300 meters we just did not have enough strength to make it to the top; and again what lay on the other side was still a surprise. Even if we crossed the pass will we find a warm place to camp? What if it is just as windy on the other side of the pass? The risk was just too great but no one was ready to say it. After another long and silent break Sushil said softly “Its time to turn back”. Every one felt relieved; the toughest decision was made. We felt sad because we could not do what we came for. After all the effort and pain we had to turn back just 100 meters short of the top. This was not the summit of just another mountain; for us it was our gateway to the hidden valley of Lingti. As we got up to leave a tear rolled down my eye and came to rest, freezing, on my cheek. I knew I would try again; we had taken the beating but we hadn’t lost yet. The mysteries of the Lingti valley would have to wait a little longer.

Even before we could climb down to the base we had chalked up a new plan of going up the frozen riverbed of Lingti. We had to find out what animals had made Lingti their home.

Winter in spiti

2008-05-30T17:51:00.000+05:30

Kibber
This is in early December when I had just reached Kibber. The beauty of the place just swept me off my feet. I didn't stay here for long, this was just a acclimatization point for me. Already at an altitude of 4200 meters i was exited about the days to come when i would be spending 4 months at 4500 meters in the winter.

During the early days there wasn't much of snow and the alpine steppe grasslands and rolling hills were a sight. The landscape with all its wildlife and mountains is just beyond my capabilities to describe.

This was when i got lucky for the first time and saw eight wolves attack a group of bharal. This is probably the best wildlife encounter i have ever had. The sight of eight wolves charging up towards a herd of bharal is just magnificent. although I have posted a photo of the alpha of the pack there were even young cubs in the pack. I cant unfortunately post all the photos as they need to be used for professional use.
Canis lupus chanco

31st December approached and me and Takpa made a plan to climb mt Kanamo again and this time we wanted to do it on the 1st January 2008. We were aware that the temperature on the summit could be anything around -40 to -50 degree C as it was -20 at the camp itself.
The early start for mt kanamo. Cho-cho kang nilda in the background...

The early start in the early morning cold was very helpful. Near the summit both Takpa an me were badly suffering from cold and were lucky to have escaped without frost bites. Takpa proved to be an amazing mountaineering partner. We discussed every decision and his experience was worth a million bucks.

I always make big plans, alpine style etc, I have had my share of success but the peak my of climbing is yet to come. hopefully soon.
Takpa on the summit of Kanamo on the 1st of January...

after 1st January the weather showed its mood and took a turn for the worst. We faced blizzards after blizzards for the rest of January. On many occasions we got caught in . Things thankfully never went out of our control during these stormy outing but facing a head way wind with temperature dipping to -25 C was an experience in itself. soon we got used to it. but today I think of those days and a shot of adrenaline runs through my blood streams

End of the storm season the world changed for me. It turned into a place i had always dreamed of, not that it was any less earlier but i was waiting for this change.
Takpa and Kalzang, in the background is the famous Kee Monastery.

This also happened to be the breeding season of the red fox and the snow leopard and I was fortunate to witness the courtship of the Red fox.
The courting pair...
The same pair...

I always enjoyed watching foxes. Neither are they difficult to spot nor are they too shy of humans. They have a fascinating world of their own. living a life that is mainly very solitary they can often be seen playing with themselves or with their siblings (young) or partners (during the mating season). Their dark red coat and bushy tail also makes them one of the most beautiful animal of the landscape.
A lonely guy who lived near my camp...

Apart from the foxes other animal that blessed me with its sight was the snow leopard. I was luck to have been able to see the snow leopard thrice in those four months. On one of such sighting I was lucky to see three of them together.
This was the third of them. We were fortunate to be able to observe them for over three hours.
And here are two more, although they look like courting pairs in this photograph in the field they felt more like mother and her cub.
Watching a snow leopard in its natural habitat is the ultimate gift that a wildlife biologist who loves mountain can ever ask for. I had my moments.

Apart from the wildlife and mountaineering time I also enjoyed and star gazing in kibber. about which I shall post soon

White Mountains, Blue Sheep and a Transparent Snow Leopard

2007-11-17T19:13:00.000+05:30

Luck has been very gracious with me and I have got most of my wishes come true. I have had my share of failures as well but some of my deep childhood fantasies have always been granted. As a kid for a long time I had a fantasy to be a shepherd. Probably everyone some time in their lives wants to be a shepherd. Don’t worry about the clock… walk the hills with the sheep… enjoy the beautiful streams and meadows… and do all that a shepherd does. I will not be protecting my wild sheep from their wild predators. I would actually be happy to even see a Tibetan Wolf or a Snow Leopard.

My Sheep...

Their Pasture...

My wish has been granted. Next month I am going to Kibber wildlife Sanctuary in Himachal Pradesh to study the Blue sheep for my masters’ dissertation. I will not be literally herding these wild sheep, but will be studying their winter feeding strategies. This provides with an opportunity to spend the whole winter in the Trans-Himalayan cold (up to -25 degree Celsius). Roam the Himalayan giants behind the wild sheep. Sit by the evening fire in little wooden house and spend lots of time just looking at the stars.

A shepherd with an Ice Axe…

Chou Chou Kang Nilda (6304 Mts.)
I do have some more ambitions from this trip. The top priority will always be with my study data collection but I hope to spend some time climbing. This includes an attempt at climbing Kanamo in the WINTER, climbing Chou Chou Kang Nilda (6304 Mts.), if possible climbing Shilla (6100 Mts.). Another ambitious dream I have is to go up to the source of the Shilla River (a typical Himalayan stream rolling down the gorges of Zansakar) and exploring a possible route to climb the Lakhan Peak (6123 Mts.). Hope I am not asking for too much.

Klimbing Kanamo (5975 mts)

2007-11-03T21:22:00.000+05:30

Half way up...

Last spring I was in the Spiti district of the Indian Trans-Himalayas for over a month. I lived at the house of a local spitian guy named Sushil Dorge in Kibber. Kibber is a small village with a population of about 150. Situated in the shadow of Mount Kanamo (5992 meters 32 22'12.16"N. 78 04'57.85"E) at an altitude of 4205 meters above sea level, it is the second highest village in the world to be connected by motor able road.

Mount Kanamo

Kanamo has been climbed a many times before. Most of these climbs have not been recorded as they were mostly by local people who did not have any affiliation with the Indian mountaineering foundation. Kanamo is not a very difficult summit. The north face is the Kanamo glacier and south face is mostly scree with occasional rock patches. There is also the south ridge called the Dombachen ridge connecting the Kanamo with the Dombachen peak. Surrounded by the Kibber plateau this area is teeming with wildlife. Blue sheep herds of up to ninety are are seen very often. Himalayan Ibex are also very common in this region. There have also been sightings of Tibetan wolves and lucky ones have seen Nono, the Snow leopard.

I had been planing an ascend of Mount Kanamo for a long time and on this trip I decided to execute those plans. On 2nd July I started from the village of Kibber at 4 am to try and reach the summit and get back by evening. I was nervous at first as I was climbing alone in darkness towards my first Himalayan summit. The weather was cloudy but it seemed like it would open up later in the day, which it did. The initial climb near the village is very gentle. After reaching the base of Dombachen ridge it started to get slightly steeper. I was well acclimatized as I had already been up this once before. Since I was west of the Dombachen ridge I knew I would miss the sun rise but I wanted to reach the crest of the ridge as soon as possible for the spectacular view that I knew I would get from there. By 8 am I had reached the Dombachen ridge that reaches the summit from the south side. As expected the view was spectacular. The final push towards the summit along the ridge was the most difficult. At 9.20 am I was on the summit of mount Kanamo looking at the vast Tibetan plateau. Towards east was the beautiful summit of Cho cho kang nilda. After spending about 20 min I decided to start descending. Descending down was very quick and I got in the village of Kibber at five minutes to noon thus making this the fasted ascent of Mount Kanamo. This was confirmed from the informal knowledge of the local people interested in mountaineering. Ascending up Kanamo took me 5 hr 20 min and the descend took 2 hr 35 min with 20 min on the summit.

This trip was of great significance to me as I climbed my first Himalayan summit, I did it alone and in record time. All the equipment I had was a GPS that kept telling me how high I was. I didn't even have a "Ice Axe", I was wearing a pair of 'power' joggers, cotton trousers, and woolen pullover knitted for me by my mom. Given my preparedness for it, I am very satisfied with my performance. Apart from a great sense of achievement this exercise also gave me a start in mountaineering in the Himalayas.