Passes To Escape Pollution: A Journey Through Ladakh’s Transformative Landscapes

Unplanned road trips have a charm of their own which is beyond the comprehension of meticulous planners. While I was discussing the experiences of such a sudden and unplanned trip to Leh, one of my friends said, "Ladakh is so done and dusted, why do you keep going there repeatedly?" Well, most visitable places are done and dusted. They have all received enough footfall. More than enough has been written about them. But that is not a reason enough not to (re)visit or (re)write one's unique experiences of travelling.

Revisiting Ladakh’s Ever-Changing Terrain

In a recent travelogue, I had explained the reason to revisit the Ladakh range often, at length. At the cost of reiterating, I must say that Ladakh and Spiti have such a strong recall value because none of the spots and stretches remain the same. Depending on the season, the lighting conditions, the shadow-structures of the clouds—the look and feel and mood of the arid landscape alters dramatically. The colour of the river, the texture of the mountains, the relief of the expansive emptiness is barely static. The same view may feel vastly different if revisited within the span of a few minutes. The palette is perpetually transformative. Therefore, in a matter of less than four months, I feel another craving to revisit the zone.

On a Friday afternoon, last week, after the lecture, I hit the Eastern Peripheral Expressway, next to my university that connects to the Delhi-Chandigarh highway. Half a dozen tunnels and a four-lane highway to Manali may have severe environmental costs but it has reduced the travel time by 4-5 hours. What used to be a 15-hour-drive is now close to 10 hours. Recent floods and landslides between Mandi and Manali have devastated several parts of the four-lane. It is paradoxical how we claim to tame the mountains, and how often nature reminds us of our miniscule existence through periodic taunting. Yet we barely learn a lesson. We commit the same concrete errors of mindless constructions without showing an iota of respect towards nature.

Escaping Delhi’s Pollution for Mountain Solitude

Anyway, the idea was to escape yet another man-made madness in the name of festivity and breathe some clean air. I was escaping Delhi’s unimaginable levels of pollution by reaching a place far enough from civilisation that is not civil enough to keep their water, soil and air clean. During my last visit to Lahul last June, I happened to like Jispa—such a quaint habitat next to river Bhaga and very close to Darcha that offers a fantastic view of the valley. It is also the point of bifurcation. One road leads to Zanskar from Darcha; and another goes to Leh. Even though I have travelled extensively in this region in the last fifteen years, for some strange reason, I had not driven through the most common stretch between Sarchu and Leh.

After spending a night in Jispa, I felt like finishing that part of the syllabus that I had not done in all these years. After doing it this time, I strongly felt that this is the first thing that I should have done before doing several other offbeat routes within Ladakh. The two-hundred-kilometre stretch between Sarchu and Debring offers so much variation, intensity and grandeur that the first visit felt like an invitation to many more in near future.

Unfortunately, the passes are closing soon enough for the winters, which implies that I have to wait for several months.

Through Jispa, Sarchu And The Great High Passes

I have always believed that Ladakh and Spiti are not destination-centric. It is all about spectacular stretches of heightened beauty that literally transports us to a different world altogether. A world that is intrinsically different from our everyday; from any other landscape and mushy foothills. This piece centres around that specific and magnificent stretch between Jispa and Debring that is mostly uninhabited. This stretch that involves a six-hour drive is not for those who like to laze around in luxury, or those who question the idea of “journey” and are fixated with “destinations”. It involves crossing a few major passes: Baralacha La, Gata Loops, Nakee La and Lachung La. So let’s begin the journey.

For those who want to remain immersed in the essence of the stunning landscape and care less about facilities, it is always advisable to travel before and after the peak season to avoid the noisy bunch of reckless tourists who have no empathy towards the serene silence of the space. The additional incentive of travelling in mid-October is the lure of seeing fresh snow being spread like a thick layer of vanilla ice-cream (above).

As I drive out of Jispa and cross Himachal’s longest bridge in Darcha, the climb begins (above). Soon there is a check-point before the point where the road bifurcates towards Zanskar and Leh. One feels a sudden change in the average altitude and expansiveness. The view till Jispa via Sissu and Keylong is relatively confined. It is almost impossible to see more than a few folds of mountains at a time. As I drive past Darcha, the majesty of the Ladakh range uncovers itself.

A few kilometres ahead one realises why freezing is a perpetual process and not a sudden one while seeing the Suraj Tal lake in a semi-frozen state (above). Soon the deep turquoise will be replaced by snow-whiteness. Same elements of water, ice and air cohabit at this altitude that is close to five thousand metres. One can only imagine how things look in the peak winters when everything freezes and roads to such places remain shut. As of now, the solid, liquid and airy elements are in the process of negotiating with each other before ice wins by a margin. Flowing streams (below) are still making their way and are still visible even though the ice-covers are getting deposited and covering the rugged landscape and turning it from shades of ochre to milky white. The route to Baralacha La is scenic to say the least in this season with fresh snow cover.

This panoramic view near the Z-point of Baralacha La has an interesting and abandoned shelter that feels haunted (cover image). One can imagine how this may feel at night when the sky is clear and snow is falling. Such a scene reminds me of the disproportionate scale of our meagre existence in comparison to the mighty nature and its whims and cycles.

The enormous and imposing presence of nature makes our presence miniature-ish (above). The expansiveness of Ladakh with its uninterrupted view makes me humble and develop a sense of nothingness while I am surrounded by the solidity of rocks that have grown in strength and height in the last fifty million years. Where do we place and how do we process the ephemerality of human life lasting for merely fifty years, if compared to the unimaginable permanence of these ranges?

The reference of alcohol in the nomenclature of places around Sarchu is quite astonishing. There is a place called Zing Zing Bar as I climb down the Baralacha La. There is a Whiskey Nala and a Brandy Bridge (above). Not so surprisingly, I found the mention of Brandy Bridge to be toppled upside down. Tipsiness comes in various forms.

Soon after crossing Sarchu, the uphill climb towards Gata Loops begins, where the road is narrow and there are over twenty sharp hairpin turns. For the adventure-seeking and ambitious drivers, there is an stiff off-roading short-cut that cuts through these loops and makes you arrive at the top—speeding at an angle of more than forty five degrees. Keeping that aside, the most breath-taking aspect of this climb is the view of Tsarap River. With each bend and shift to the next loop, the extent and the expanse of the river-valley gets heightened till the river merges in the lap of the mountains in the aerial view (above).

When I stumbled upon these bottles in one of the bends of Gata Loop, I felt there must have been a Dhaba here. It was strange indeed to find heaps of emptied bottles disposed in one corner like an installation-project (above). Later I came to know about the ghost temple and the myth around it. In the late 90s, a helper of a vehicle died either in an accident or due to bad weather. He was thirsty and begged for water. In the following year, travellers experienced visions of a beggar asking for water. Since then, a temple was constructed and travellers drop water bottles while passing.

After passing the messy loops of Gata and crossing Nakeela and Lachung-La passes, one descends to better road conditions and even more expansive stretches (above). I doubt if the image does any justice to the scale of affairs that one sees. The river bed below must be expanding up to five kilometres with intricate and innumerable number of streams. I’ll not be able to point this place exactly on the map. I doubt if it has a name. it certainly has no village and population. As I had mentioned earlier, this entire stretch between Jispa and Debring that I am focusing on is mostly uninhabited. There are barely any permanent villages and habitation.

By now, if you are bored of heights, after Pang, you will be greeted by a massive thirty kilometre stretch of straight road bisecting the Moore plains till Debring. It is one of those stretches that you can keep driving back and forth; day and night; days after days. Words fail me as I want to describe it more intimately. I choose not to. Instead on a climactic note, let us end this journey with an image that I clicked in 2013—not knowing that this is a flight view of the fascinating road in Moore plains (above).

FAQs

1. What makes the Jispa–Sarchu–Debring stretch unique for travellers?

The stretch between Jispa, Sarchu and Debring is known for its dramatic shifts in landscape, high-altitude passes and minimal human habitation, offering an immersive experience of Ladakh’s raw terrain.

2. When is the best time to travel through the high passes of Ladakh?

The safest period is between June and early October. After that, fresh snowfall and freezing temperatures can lead to road closures, especially at Baralacha La and other major passes.

3. How challenging is the drive between Sarchu and Debring?

The route includes several high passes such as Baralacha La, Nakee La and Lachung La, along with winding loops and changing altitudes, making it a demanding but rewarding drive for experienced travellers.

4. Why do travellers revisit Ladakh and Spiti multiple times?

Ladakh and Spiti offer constantly shifting landscapes depending on the season, light, shadows and weather, ensuring that the scenery feels new and transformative on every visit.

5. Is it safe to travel to Ladakh during winter?

High-altitude roads like Sarchu, Baralacha La and Debring typically close due to heavy snowfall. Winter travel is possible only in select areas and requires proper acclimatisation and preparation.

6. How much time does it take to drive from Jispa to Debring?

The stretch typically takes around six hours, depending on weather conditions, road conditions and stoppages at scenic points such as Suraj Tal and Baralacha La.