The Reference Article
Fototour Ladakh
A fine pass!
Over 5000 meters high, with dramatic mountain lakes: The Ladakh region in the Trans-Himalayas is a photographer’s paradise—if the weather plays along. To capture perfect images here, one must rise in the dead of night.
Outside the cabin window, bare rock walls rush past, then a sharp left turn. The airport at Leh, wedged among peaks over 6000 meters, is feared by Indian pilots for its altitude, which diminishes the aircraft’s lift. The small Boeing 737 rumbles onto the 3500-meter-high runway. Ladakh greets us with a deep blue sky and pleasant autumn temperatures.
A Taxi brings my friend Corinna and me to the Silvercloud Guesthouse, where a vast garden blooms in a sea of flowers. We rent a rugged Mahindra SUV with a driver who will pick us up the next morning, and spend the afternoon wandering through Leh. We visit the palace that once housed the royal family until 1830, perched above the city. But as we climb higher to the Namgyal Tsemo Gompa, we soon find ourselves short of breath. The altitude of Leh is taking its toll. Many travelers complain of headaches and other early symptoms of altitude sickness in these first days.
From the palace, we watch a polo match on the sand court in the middle of town. It’s part of the Ladakh Festival, held every September in Leh. We spend the evening in one of the many rooftop restaurants, its patrons almost exclusively young European backpackers. They come to the roof of the world to trek or to experience the Tibetan-Buddhist culture of Ladakh. For me, this journey is a part of my global photography project, “Planet Desert,” which compares dry deserts with icy ones.
Dryness of the Relief Desert
In Ladakh and Spiti, the dryness is more intense than in many other deserts of the earth. The reason lies in their location in the rain shadow of the Himalayas, which keeps the monsoon clouds at bay. Geographers call it a relief desert. Added to this is the location far from the sea, in the midst of the Asian continent. Ladakh is geographically part of the Trans-Himalayas, bordered by the Himalayan giants to the south and west, and the Tibetan Plateau to the north and east.
Our first destination is Tso Pangong, the largest of the many lakes in eastern Ladakh. The remote region is the western extension of the Changtang Plateau, which spans large parts of Tibet. The route there follows the Indus Valley and then crosses the 5300-meter-high Chang La, one of the highest passes in the world. Our driver Nasir expertly maneuvers the Indian SUV through the tight curves, and soon we are at the pass’s summit, sipping chai at the so-called “Highest Cafe of the World.
The eastern slope of the pass leads through dreamlike landscapes, the afternoon sun shining against a deep blue sky, with photogenic white clouds drifting over the snow-capped six-thousanders. Three hours after leaving Leh, we arrive at the shores of Tso Pangong. The lake, at 4300 meters, stretches 150 kilometers long and only four kilometers wide, with two-thirds of its surface lying in Tibet. We follow its southern shore and find refuge in a guesthouse, where we are the only guests, along with an Indian couple.
The peak travel season in Ladakh is July and August, although September usually offers the most stable weather and autumn colors. Unfortunately, the next morning brings no hint of that. Dense, high clouds have rolled in, the sun is gone, and with it, the colors. Nasir and Corinna try to cheer me up, but for a photographer, such weather is a moderate disaster.
Houses in Tibetan Style
We cross the Chang La once more and continue eastward through the Indus Valley. Our next destination is Tso Moriri, near the Tibetan border. The road and river share the narrow valley, where not a blade of grass is found on the slopes. Occasionally, the Indus water creates small oases with tall, autumn-yellow poplars standing there. The houses here are almost exclusively built in the traditional Tibetan style.
At the hot springs of Chumathang, we cross the Indus and drive through a small side valley to the south. Fortunately, the sun begins to break through the clouds in intervals, casting interesting light on the desert landscape. I scan for the tents of the Khampa nomads who roam this region, but aside from a few horses, no signs of life are visible. In the last light, we reach the northern shore of Tso Moriri.
A checkpoint of the Indian Army inspects the Inner Line Permit, which must be obtained in Leh for the border region. We follow the western shore a few kilometers south to the village of Korzok. In this small settlement, there’s the “Nomadic Life Camp” during the summer months, offering spacious tents and good food. We find this quite necessary, as the weather has turned unpleasant.
The next morning, in the biting wind, Corinna and I climb to a high plateau above the lake. Here, the Khampa nomads have retreated with their herds. After an hour’s march, we reach their tents. I am continually impressed by the nomads’ ability to survive in such an extreme environment. Along with the intense dryness, there’s the cold of the winter months, which forces them to break camp by late September and transport goats, yaks, and household goods by truck to one of the surrounding villages.
Best Conditions at Night
From Tso Moriri, we travel on small tracks to the salt lake of Tso Kar, three hours further west. However, it is not particularly spectacular, and the weather remains overcast. We pitch our tent on the shore, my mood soured by the dreary weather. At night, I am awakened by moonlight streaming through the thin tent fabric. The sky has cleared! The strong wind has driven away most of the clouds. Immediately, I grab my tripod and head to a nearby chorten to photograph the whitewashed monument of Tibetan Buddhism in the moonlight. With exposure times of 30 seconds and more, the remaining clouds and drifting stars create intriguing effects. I lose track of time, only the dawn brings an end to my series of shots.
I wake Corinna and Nasir, and before dawn, we set off. Despite the few hours of sleep, my spirits are high. Today, we will cross the Himalayas in perfect weather. We have turned onto the Manali-Leh Highway, 100 kilometers south of Leh, a single-lane road pockmarked with potholes that crosses the Himalayas. Early in the morning, we climb the northern ramp of Lachulung La, the second highest pass at 5060 meters along this spectacular route.
After days of poor weather, I make the most of the good light for photography. Our poor driver, Nasir, must stop every few meters and wait while I capture photos and film scenes. The landscape remains barren of any vegetation until we approach our destination, Keylong. Suddenly, the first trees appear on the steep slopes, and soon we are driving through dense mountain forests! The southern regions of the Leh-Manali route are touched by the summer monsoon, abruptly ending the desert.
We find a charming guesthouse in Keylong and spend the evening in the orchard, enjoying mint tea until midnight in pleasant temperatures. At that moment, it is hard to imagine that a half-day’s journey away, in the Spiti Valley, the desert will begin anew.
Altitude among barren rock: From the king’s palace, the best view of Leh, perched 3500 meters high, the main town in Ladakh.
Photo: Michael Martin
Prayer flags flutter between the Namgyal Tsemo Gompa, built in 1430 above Leh, and a nearby hill.
Photo: Michael Martin
Ladakh has a desert-like climate, with rivers and irrigation systems in the valleys providing fertility.
Photo: Michael Martin
Climate change has intensified the dryness of the land, causing the lakes in eastern Ladakh to lose water and become even saltier.
Photo: Michael Martin
The region’s entire supply is secured by trucks that struggle over high passes for three days across the Himalayas.
Photo: Michael Martin
After crossing the 5300-meter-high Chang La Pass, the road leads through rugged desert landscape until…
Photo: Michael Martin
…Tso Pangong is reached, a 4300-meter-high, highly saline lake stretching into Tibet.
Photo: Michael Martin
Khampa nomad with child: In this society, the main burden of work falls on the mothers, who must care for both the household and the goat herds.
Photo: Michael Martin
A glimmer of hope for the frustrated photographer: After days of bad weather, the evening finally brings a ray of sunshine on the barren mountains.
Photo: Michael Martin
Chorten at Tso Kar: At night, the clouds finally break, and Michael Martin leaves his warm sleeping bag to grab his camera and tripod.
Photo: Michael Martin
Desert mood: A deep blue sky stretches over a clay pan at nearly 5000 meters in the morning.
Photo: Michael Martin
At the pass heights of Ladakh, Tibetan prayer flags flutter in the icy wind.
Photo: Michael Martin
Rest under the fabric roof: Corinna looks forward to an omelet and Tibetan tea in one of the many tents that provide for truck drivers along the mountainous route.
Photo: Michael Martin
South of Sarchu, the pass route again traverses grand desert landscapes until the climate changes within a few kilometers.
Photo: Michael Martin