The story of how we tried to do the classic trek across Zanskar in the Indian Himalaya, from Darcha to Lamayuru, how things went badly wrong and how we were rescued by the Indian Airforce.
We flew into Dehli then took a internal flight in a small plane up to Kullu. From Kullu we took a taxi up to Manali. Manali, an old colonial hill station, is the bustling capital of Himachal Pradesh region and something of tourist spot. After the heat and humidty of Dehli, it was blissfully cool in the mountains. We spent three days arranging our trek and buying supplies before taking the bus over the Rohtang Pass to Keylong. The Rohtang Pass is at 3978m and as our bus crawled up it in the rain, overtaking convoys of petrol tankers on the switch backs, we began to understand why it is called the pass of corpses.
We arrived in Keylong in the pouring rain. Eventually the clouds cleared to reveal a small picturesque town clinging to the steep sides of a valley. During the afternoon we did the rounds of the shops buying the last of our supplies and arranging for a taxi for the morning.
Jispa - locals at work
In the morning we set off for Jispa, 30km up the valley, where we had arranged to meet our ponyman. After the previous days rains the road was barely passable, but our driver managed to slither his way through the mud. We climbed high up the side of the valley then descended to the river in a series of alarming switchbacks. Jispa turned out to be a sparse village spread out along the side of the road.
Our taxi dropped us at the "Mountaineering School", a low barracks like building at the far end of the village. The sole occupant of the building was a solitary police inspector, who was happy to rent us a room for the night. Later in the afternoon as we were sitting around drinking tea our Ponyman, the ebulliant Lama, turned up. Then almost as quickly dissappeared, to go and find his ponies. In the evening, the Police Inspector and a very drunk school teacher invited us to share their meal and taught us how to make chapatis by candle light.
It was best not to look down crossing this bridge
Day 1
In the morning, while Lama was busy loading the ponies, we set out for Darcha five kilometers up the road. It was a pleasent stroll in the clear cool of the morning. At Darcha, tea tents lined the road either side of the bridge and we had a second breakfast as we waited for Lama to catch us up.
From Darcha we followed a long dusty jeep track up the valley of the Baral Nala, through the tiny villages of Rarik and Chika. The track ended abrubtly at the "bridge of doom" a deeply unimpressive structure across a deep chasm thorough which the grey water of river thundered.
We camped a little way up from the bridge, in a grassy meadow beside a clear cold stream. Late in to the night, there were the sounds and torch lights of the local villagers working in the fields.
Rowena at Zanskar Sumdo
Day 2
In what was to be the pattern for our days we were awake by six o'clock and packed up and ready to go by eight. We set off up the valley leaving Lama to round up the ponies and load the gear. For the first hour the path was easy going along the the banks of the fast flowing river. Then we hit the an glacier moraine and it turned in to a hard, uphill slog through wide boulder fields. Lama and the ponies soon overtook us, but he never went too far ahead before he waited for us to catch up. Late in the afternoon we had to wade across two knee deep glacier melt streams. We camped at the flat grassy expanse of Zanskar Sumdo, a great place apart from the long walk to the nearest spring for fresh water.
Day 3
Next morning the weather was grey and overcast with thick clouds obscuring the summits and a hint of rain in the air. The day started with us crossing the worst bridge of the trip - few sheets of rusting corrugated iron nailed to two thin boughs, that that sagged and twisted horribly as we tip-toed across. After crossing the main stream of river on a more substantial suspension bridge there was a strenuous climb up the steep shoulder that guarded the entrance to the side valley leading up to the Shingo La.
The weather deteriorated as the morning wore on. Grey clouds rolled up the valley and the rain started. The path contoured across a steep scree slopes, descended down to the to river only to climb another steep shoulder. This sequence was repeated over and again as we climbed higher up the valley. As we trudged on the rain showers turned into a solid downpour whipped along by a strong wind. Although we were well wrapped up in fleeces and cagoules, I started to worry about Rowena getting cold. But she assured me she was warm enough, just complaining of sore throat and a bit of a cough.
We reached the cold wet campsite late in the afternoon, but the best spots were already occupied by the large tents of a swiss party.
En route to the Shingo La Pass
Day 4
Lama had warned us that today would be a long day, as we had to climb the pass. We were up very early and on the path by about 7.30. Rowena's sore throat and cough were a little worse, but we enjoyed a pleasant couple of hours walking up the valley in the morning sunshine, before the clouds started to creep over the summits. After Lama caught us up with the ponies, the sun disappeared and the climb up to the pass started in earnest started in earnest. Rowena was struggling with the climb, so Lama loaded her on to the Mule and we pressed on. This speeded our party up and left me gasping in the thin air trying to keep up with Lama, Rowena and the ponies. It was a bleak desolate climb up to the summit of the pass. Clouds swirled around us and we climbed past huge debris field of grey brown rock grey icy glacial streams.
Summit of the Shingo La 5,000m
After a long slog we finally reached the summit cairn and a line of prayer flags crackling in the wind. It was very cold. Rowena had climbed up in wearing a thin pair of treking trousers, so I told her,to put on her long johns. Just as she had stripped off to her knickers a French couple appeared with their guide. But they were very discrete and offered us a cup of tea from their thermos.
From the summit, it was a long hard descent down unstable scree on the top of glacier ice. Lama was very attentive and helped Rowena to get down the worst of it.
Once we got off the scree, Lama went on ahead with the ponies, leaving us to walk down off the mountain in our own time. It was a long walk and by now Rowena was feeling quite ill. When we finally arrived at the campsite we were both exhausted and I had a blinding head ache that made it really difficult to move.
Campsite at Lakang Sumdo - our tent is on the left
Day 5
In the morning Rowena was feeling ill and quite weak. When I told Lama that we should have a day of rest, he suggested that we should move to a better site, closer to running water, just a few miles down the valley. So we packed up and walked gently down the valley in the morning sunshine. Around mid morning we came to a encampment of Yak herders by a small stream. We pitched or tents on a tiny piece of flat ground a little way above them. As all the Yak herders were women or young girls, Lama was quite happy and the valley rung with laughter as he flirted with them.
Yak girls
As Rowena rested in the tent, I took a packet of biscuits to make friends with the Yak herders. Everything they had seemed to be made from yak skins, the roofs of their tents and some of their clothes.
We went to bed early that night and were lulled to sleep by the girls singing in the valley below and the gentle grunting of the Yaks around the tent.
Gumburanjon 5,900m
Day 6
Early in the morning we said goodbye to the smiling Yak herders and set out down the valley for Kargyak. It was a glorious walk in the morning sunshine, following the river past the huge granite wall of Gumburanjon. But by now I was too worried about Rowena's condition to really enjoy it. Still very weak, she kept having to rest and her cough was very much worse. Just after lunch, she vomitted badly and it was clear that she wasn't going to be able to walk any further that day. Lama rigged a saddle on the mule and our now rather worried and dispirited party set off again. Later Rowena was so weak that she could barely stay on the Mule and we completed the last two miles to the village with Lama and I walking along either side of the mule holdng her in place.
Day 7
There was no question, but that we would have a rest day at Kargyak. While Rowena lay in the tent, I washed some clothes and Lama went to talk to the villagers about our predicament.
Later, he returned with a rather disreputable looking man with a severe limp. Lama explained that this man, Tashi Doundoup, had a proper riding pony, that would be able to carry Rowena to Padum 5 days walk away (Lama's pack ponies weren't really strong enough). From there we could get a bus out of the mountains. After haggling over a cup of tea we argreed to hire Tashi and his riding pony for $60.
Children at Tarbley
Day 8
As we left Kargyak our party consisted of Lama, his three ponies and a mule, Tashi with his rolling limp leading Rowena on his riding pony, the riding pony's gaggly-legged young foal and me trying to keep up at the rear. As we made made our way down the wide, dusty valley, huge dark storm clouds built up behind us. The wind tugged at our clothes and the storm threatened to engulf as at any minute, but never quite did.
We stopped for lunch at the tiny settlement Tarbley. Three generations of the family, from a tiny toddler to a weather beaten grandmother were out working in the fields harvesting the winter fodder for the Yaks.
The path to Tangzen
Late in the afternoon we arrived at Tangzen. It was a good campsite, a flat piece of ground near three solid looking adobe houses. As soon as the tent was up Rowena collapsed into her sleeping bag. I was invited in to one of the houses for tea am tsampa. In the smokey interior a withered old crone boiled up the tea over a Yak dung fire.
Day 9
I was making coffee just as Rowena just as walking slowly back from the toilet. I looked away for a second and then when I looked back she had collapsed unconcsious on the ground. I rushed over and got her into the recovery position. After a few very frightening minutes she gradually came to, but she looked in a bad way. Her face was very blue and she was struggling for breath. She had a terrible hacking cough which seemed to have gone to her lungs. I got her back into the tent then made a decision: there was no way we were going to make it to Padum, at least four days walk away, we needed a rescue. I talked to Lama and Tashi, and we decided the best thing would be for Tashi to ride as quickly as he could to Padum, where the tourist officer would be able to radio the airforce. Tashi thought he could get there in two days.
Tashi Doundoup setting off for Padum
While Tashi rounded up his pony, I wrote a note to the Tourist officer "We are two trekkers at Tangzen. My wife is seriously ill and no longer able to walk or ride. Please arrange a helicopter rescue as soon as possible"
Then I drew a rough map of the area, attached copies of our insurance certificates and passports, and put the whole thing in a plastic bag before handing it to Tashi. He stuffed it into an inside pocket before setting off down the valley at a trot, the followed by the foal.
Rowena at death's door
Rowena's condition continued to deteriorate during the day, her breathing becoming weaker and weaker. I now became seriously concerned that she would not survive the three or four days I expected it would take for help to get here. We had brought a pretty well stocked first aid kit, but had nothing that would help with this.
As the day wore on I became inceasingly worried about her. I am not at all religious, but I went little way away from the village and in the quiet still valley I prayed really hard for Rowena not to die. Nothing else in the world mattered.
The Amchi
Later in the day, Lama appeared with a very old man who he explained was the local medicine man or amchi. He squeezed into the tent with Rowena and gave her a thorough examination, taking her pulse in a few places and proding her with strong fingers. He went away looking very serious and an hour or so later he returned with a couple of twists of newspaper containing some dusty looking powders. Through Lama he told me that Rowena should drink one of the powders as a tea and eat the other one directly. The tea tasted bitter but it seemed to do some good and Rowena rested easier afterwards.
I stayed awake all that night listening to Rowena's weak, laboured breathing, scared that at any moment it might stop and I would have to try and revive her. Finally, the morning came and she seemed a little a better.
Day 10
Ever the optimist, Lama thought the helicopters would arrive today. The headman of the village was more down to earth. He thought Tashi would be lucky to get to Padum by that evening and it would take sometime to organise the rescue. I imagined the bureaucracy involved in contacting the airforce, checking our insurance and organising the rescue and though it would be a miracle if they ever came.
The villagers went to work in some fields high up the valley and we were left on our own. Rowena's breathing seemed a lttle better, but she still had a terrible cough and was too weak to stan. Later in the day the Amchi came to check up on her and gave us some more of his powders
Day 11
When I woke before dawn, I could hear the pitter-patter of rain on the tent and my heart sank. There was no way that the helicopters would fly in rain. Later, when I had the courage to the stick my head out of the tent I saw that he valley was filled with cloud.
The cloud slowly lifted during the morning, but by mid-day it still clung to the tops. The headman was still pessimistic, he said the helicopters wouldn't fly if there was any cloud and certainly not in the afternoon. We gave up hope for the day - Rowena sleeping fitfully in the tent and me lying outside on sleeping mat reading a book. Once again the villagers had dissappeared and the valley was still and silent.
Suddenly, far in the distance I heard the familiar "wump-wump-wump" of rotors. I looked up from my book and in the sky at the far end of valley were two black dots coming our way. I lept up yelling at Rowena "Choppers! Choppers". I pulled on my boots not stopping to tie my laces and ran to the nearest patch of flat ground waving my arms. The two small helicopters wheeled overhead and then one landed close by. One of the two pilots waved me over, he just wanted to check he had come to the right place.
Rowena's helicopter ready for takeoff
By now, as if by magic, the whole village had appeared and many willing hands helped dimantle the tent and stuff our kit into our rucksacks. The Amchi also appeared and very gently helped Rowena walk to the helicopter. By now the second helicopter had landed nearby and I climbed into this one with the other half of our kit. Then suddenly, we lifted off, the villagers waved as they were engulfed by a cloud of dust from the down draft, and all to quickly they were dissappearing behind us.
The flight to Leh
We flew in formation down the valley at just above ridge height. I could just make out Rowena in the back of the other helicopter. Below us the mountains looked even more desolate than they did from the ground. It was really apparent that Zanskar is a high altitude desert with just tiny threads of vegetation close to the rivers. The flight was longer than expected and it took us over an hour to reach the main Indus valley that led to Leh. As we were flying up the valley towards Leh I glanced at the fuel gauage beside the pilots knee - there was less than an eighth of a tank left. We must have been almost at the limit of the helicopters' range
When we landed at the airforce base in Leh, there was an ambulance and two officials from the tourist office waiting to meet us. I had to sign a sheaf of forms for the airforce, then we were bumping our way up the road to the hospital. At the hospital, they x-rayed Rowena's lungs prescribed some antibiotic and kept her in overnight with an oxygen mask on.
A few days later we flew back to Delhi and then back to London. It took Rowena over two months too recover from her illness and regain her strength.
Acknowledgements
We owe a huge debt of gratitude to Tashi Doundoup who rode to Padum for us and to the pilots of 114 Helicopter Group, 21 Wing, Indian Airforce who rescued us.