In remote Ladakh
The condition of the road to Umling La is excellent, quipped a jovial constable from the Indo-Tibetan Border Police (ITBP). “But if you are travelling all the way to that place, then why not go beyond to Demchok on the border with China,” he added, as we sipped piping hot tea at a kiosk near Nyoma (in south-eastern Ladakh) amidst a torrential downpour in July last year.
Demchok, located in the furthermost corner of south-eastern Ladakh, lies right on the Line of Actual Control (LAC) and for long has been a hotspot of Chinese incursions and face-offs with Indian troops.
The route to Demchok lies over the 19,024 feet high Umling La, the world’s highest motorable pass, constructed and maintained by the Border Roads Organisation (BRO). Till a paved road was inaugurated by the Defence Minister in December 2021, it was little more than a dirt track and Demchok was off limits for tourists.
“The government has now permitted tourists to go right up to the border,” the constable, who along with his companion had also stopped for a tea-break, explained. “If you already have an inner-line permit to travel in this area, you don’t need separate permission to go there,” he told us. An inner-line permit is issued by the administration to allow tourists to travel to remote areas beyond Leh such as Nubra, Pangong Tso, etc, and has to be produced at various check-posts en route.
The visit to Umling La itself was a surprise development. During a trip to Ladakh in 2019, we had been told that civilians were not allowed to drive up to the pass. While discussing our 2023 travel schedule in Ladakh with an Army officer in Leh, it was a chance question whether Umling La was now open to civilians. It yielded an affirmative response, requiring an on-the-spot tweak in our programme.
So, when a friend bought a new SUV recently, what better place to test it out than on the highest and the remotest that the varied Indian terrain had to offer. Thus was conceived my second trip to the highest motorable pass within a span of 10 months.
It would be my eighth trip to Ladakh, including two to Siachen, the world’s highest battlefield. Four have been by road on vacation. Ladakh is amazing and enticing. Its towering jagged peaks, stark slopes and treacherous rock faces, interspersed with specks of greenery, glistening snowcaps and sparkling streams, present a spectacular landscape and texture that leave a vivid imprint. The steep, narrow paths twining along the high mountains and the chill in the air are an adventurer’s delight.
Mid-May, just after snow-bound passes in Kashmir, Ladakh and Himachal Pradesh were opened for vehicular traffic and before the June onslaught of tourists, seemed ideal for yet another trip to Ladakh. The plan was to reach there via the Jammu-Srinagar route and head home to Chandigarh along the Manali axis.
The highway up to Udhampur whizzed by, but the 90-odd-km stretch from Udhampur to Banihal was troublesome. Construction of tunnels and overbridges, as well as road widening, led to heavy jams, overshooting the schedule by several hours. The next choke point was Zoji La, known as the ‘mountain pass of blizzards’. Among one of the the tougher passes to negotiate, it was dusty at the lower altitude but snow-capped at the top and beyond till the ‘zero-point’ on the other end. Visible across the valley along the ascent was the abode of Amarnath, still under a white snow blanket.
The 11,575 feet high pass between Srinagar and Kargil was reopened by the BRO in early April, but was closed frequently owing to snow and avalanches. The narrow drivable road between 15-foot ice walls, at places just sufficiently wide to allow a single vehicle to pass, mandated that traffic was permitted from Srinagar to Kargil and from Kargil to Srinagar on alternate days. The same system was in place at Baralacha La in Himachal Pradesh on the Manali-Leh road.
After crossing Zoji La, a mandatory halt was at the Kargil War Memorial, dedicated to the martyrs of the conflict that would mark its 25th anniversary in July this year. It is located near the town of Dras, where a signboard proclaims it to be the second coldest inhabited place after Siberia. Visible in the backdrop are the famous battle sites of Tiger Hill, Rhino Horn, Tololing and Sando Top.
After a smooth drive till Leh began the adventure. Moving over Chang La and passing by the world’s highest research station built by DRDO at 17,644 feet, the next check-point was Pangong Tso, on the way to Hanle. Few visitors proceed beyond the popular tourist spots like Spangmik, Man and Merak on the northern edge of the lake.
Moving south towards Chushul, the colour of the water becomes a deeper shade of blue, with tinges of turquoise and sea green. As the lake bends eastwards into China, the ‘fingers’ can be seen on the opposite bank. Contested by India and China, these have witnessed frequent face-offs between the troops of both countries and came into public gaze during the confrontation along the LAC in 2020.
At Chushul, an important battle site of the 1962 Sino-India conflict and now one of the five official border personnel meeting points in Ladakh, the black-top road ends. For the next 60 km till Loma, where this route links up with the regular Leh-Chumathang-Hanle road, it was totally off-road driving.
Though the terrain was largely flat, dotted with shrubs and stones, there were places where a track could not be discerned and the direction in which to proceed was judged by the alignment of telecom poles or tyre marks. Sometimes, the path was blocked by ice or rocks, requiring a change of course or engaging the vehicle’s four-wheel drive. At places, one could see the remnants of a road that once existed. Work is on to lay a new road, but it could well take a few seasons for the entire stretch to be built.
About 15 km from Chushul lies Rezang La. It was here in 1962 that 124 troops from ‘C’ Company of 13 Kumaon made the famous ‘last man last round’ stand against the overwhelming Chinese troops. The company commander, Maj Shaitan Singh, was decorated posthumously with the Param Vir Chakra. With the Rezang La peak in the background, an impressive war memorial, with a huge Tricolour and regimental pennants fluttering in the mountain breeze, stands along the road.
A sand model gives the operational perspective of the sector, making for better understanding of the terrain and identification of geographical features than can be had from maps and photographs.
Hanle, a small village about 250 km from Leh with a monastery dating back to the 17th century, was the base for the journey to Demchok. It is also home to the Indian Astronomical Observatory, one of the world’s highest located sites for optical, infrared and gamma-ray telescopes. Perched atop Mount Saraswati at an elevation of 14,764 feet, it is open to visitors, who can have a look at the equipment housed inside, but cannot use it as the gadgets are operated remotely from Bengaluru.
To reach Demchok, Photi La, the world’s sixth highest motorable pass at 18,124 feet, had to be negotiated first, which involved a tough drive over steep inclines, sharp curves and hair-pin bends. The isolated yet spectacular route was devoid of any traffic. We did not come across a single vehicle.
A few miles ahead of the base was a café run by a unit from the Assam Regiment, offering tea and snacks. Fresh samosas accompanied by ethnic Assamese red chutney were dished out. In fact, most Army units based in that area run cafés that are open to civilian travellers.
The ascent to Umling La, though higher, was relatively easier. “You are now higher than Everest Base Camp” read a sign a few kilometres short of the top. By now, a few bikers were also on the road. The “world’s highest café” run by the BRO at the top treats you to tea, coffee and snacks, besides putting out souvenirs.
Strangely, the highest pass was devoid of snow, barring a few small patches here and there, even though other passes at lower altitudes like the Zoji La, Tanglang La, Lachung La and Baralacha La had significant snow cover for this time of the year.
Conversely, the descent to Demchok was steeper and on the return leg, the vehicle laboured furiously — something not experienced at other passes. Forty minutes later, the Indus valley becomes visible over a blue metal bridge, with China-held mountains in the backdrop. Hillside bunkers are built en route. Driving along, one can see tracks on the mountains across reaching down to the expansive plains that are the grazing grounds for herds of local shepherds.
Demchok Café is the first signboard you see on approaching the garrison. Soldiers approach to record particulars and brief you. “The area below is Demchok Plains. The Indus further away marks the LAC and the hills behind it are in China. Chinese surveillance cameras are mounted atop the hillock in front,” a soldier said.
“You can drive through the post to Demchok village and go to Hot Springs, a natural geyser spewing warm water. Lunch will be ready by the time you come back,” the trooper said. “But do not cross the nallah as it is the border,” he warned.
On the other side of the Army post, driving over an uneven, rocky track along the Charding Nallah that joins the Indus a few kilometres down, a Chinese post is visible about 800 metres away. Called Zorawar Complex, it has a watch tower and a surveillance dome mounted atop a hillock. To its left is a Chinese village with red flags and neat rows of houses amidst trees. There is a road on the other side of the nallah and a couple of Chinese cameras overlooking the Hot Springs.
Not visible from the Indian side but set up behind the hillock is a larger Chinese establishment that is estimated to house about a company-level strength.
It is well into summers with temperatures crossing 45° C in the plains, but significant snow cover persists on the Himalayan peaks. Crossing passes on the Leh-Manali route required driving through ice walls, water puddles and some road stretches requiring immediate repairs. The entire stretch from the northern base to the southern base of Baralacha La, including the popular Suraj Tal, was mostly frozen.
The road network in Ladakh is now vastly better that what it was a few years ago. There was a time, about a decade ago, when if a single vehicle broke down on the Leh-Srinagar stretch, traffic on both sides would be held up for hours. Now, it’s a double-lane highway allowing high-speed driving. Of the 2,500 km traversed on this trip, only a cumulative stretch of about 150 km was broken or where construction was underway. It’s quite an achievement.
