Garsha Eco Pad Yatra: Walking Through A Fast-Changing Himalayas

The Himalayas are often experienced from a distance. Snow-covered peaks rise above deep valleys, prayer flags flutter in the wind, and winding mountain roads lead to villages tucked into the folds of the mountains. Yet, to understand these landscapes, sometimes the best way forward is to leave the road behind and walk.

For six days in September, more than 1,000 people from Bhutan, India, Nepal, Malaysia, Singapore and Vietnam did just that. Led by Buddhist teacher Gyalwa Dokhampa and the Drukpa Kung Fu nuns, they covered more than 100 kilometres on foot, passing through seven villages in Garsha, in Himachal Pradesh’s Lahaul region.

The journey was called the Garsha Eco Pad Yatra. A pad yatra is a pilgrimage undertaken on foot, rooted in the belief that walking itself can become a spiritual practice. This journey, however, carried a purpose beyond pilgrimage. It sought to bring participants closer to a landscape undergoing rapid environmental change, to listen to the communities living through it and to draw attention to the climate crisis unfolding at the roof of the world.

There was no single viewpoint or mountain summit that defined the experience. Instead, the story unfolded along the trail, through rivers cutting across valleys, settlements clinging to steep slopes and conversations with people who have watched their surroundings change over generations.

Walking Through A Changing Landscape

Garsha is part of Lahaul, a high-altitude region of Himachal Pradesh where stark mountain terrain, glacial rivers and Buddhist traditions shape everyday life. Separated from the wetter southern slopes of the Himalayas by high mountain ranges, much of Lahaul lies in a rain-shadow zone, with a landscape marked by sparse vegetation, cold deserts and settlements that have long adapted to difficult climatic conditions.

It is not a name that appears as frequently on travel itineraries as Manali or Leh. But away from the better-known destinations and crowded trekking routes, Garsha offers a closer look at what it means to live in the Himalayas as the climate changes.

“It is September and still unusually hot,” one villager said.

Another put it more simply. “There are no longer seasons in Garsha.”

For those who call these mountains home, climate change is not an abstract concept discussed at international conferences. It is experienced through the timing of snowfall, the availability of water, the condition of roads and the stability of the ground beneath their homes.

In June, the Jhalman River flooded, washing away a bridge and sections of road. Higher up, Lindoor village is facing increasing ground instability as the land beneath it gives way. Around Sissu, the expansion of Ghepan Lake has raised concerns over the growing risk of a glacial lake outburst flood.

Such risks are particularly consequential in mountain regions, where communities depend on a limited network of roads and bridges for access to essential services, supplies and neighbouring settlements. A damaged bridge can mean more than a disrupted journey. Unstable slopes can threaten homes, while changes in the behaviour of rivers and glaciers can place entire settlements at risk.

These are remote mountain communities. But their story is not a remote one.

What Happens In The Himalayas Does Not Stay Here

The Hindu Kush Himalaya, a vast mountain system stretching across eight countries, including India, Nepal and Bhutan, is often described as the “Water Tower of Asia”. Its glaciers, snowfields and rivers help sustain some of the continent’s major river systems, supporting lives and livelihoods of millions downstream.

This makes the Himalayas more than a spectacular backdrop for travellers. They are a living system.

When glaciers retreat, snowfall becomes less predictable, when permafrost weakens and when mountain slopes become unstable, the consequences move beyond the valleys where these changes begin. They can affect water supplies, agriculture, roads, homes, livelihoods and entire communities downstream.

This is what gives a journey like the Garsha Eco Pad Yatra significance beyond the act of pilgrimage. It brings a distant-seeming climate crisis into the realm of human experience, connecting the people who live in the mountains with those whose lives depend on the water and resources flowing from them.

Led by Gyalwa Dokhampa, a revered Drukpa Buddhist Master and author of "The Restful Mind," the walk brought ancient Buddhist principles of compassion, interdependence, non-harm, and reverence for all life into the climate conversation. The idea is simple: if everything is interconnected, caring for the natural world cannot be separated from caring for one another.

From this perspective, caring for the environment is inseparable from caring for one another.

Over the six days, participants listened to villagers, collected waste along the trail and planted more than 200 trees. They prayed and reflected. And, perhaps most importantly, they witnessed.

Climate change was no longer something seen in a report or on a screen. It was the unusual heat against their faces, the sight of damaged infrastructure, the vulnerability of a mountain slope and the words of someone who remembered when the seasons behaved differently.

In that moment, the mountains became the classroom, and Garsha became more than a destination.

A Different Way To Travel Through The Himalayas

For travellers, the experience offers another way of looking at the Himalayas. These mountains have long drawn people in search of adventure, solitude, spiritual discovery and extraordinary views. Yet, the more closely we encounter them, the harder it becomes to separate their beauty from their fragility.

The walkers eventually reached Trilokinath, a village in Lahaul known for its sacred temple dedicated to Trilokinath, a form of the Hindu deity Shiva that is also revered as Avalokiteshvara, the bodhisattva of compassion, in the Buddhist tradition. The shrine reflects the region’s longstanding traditions of religious coexistence. Here, the journey concluded with prayers, tree planting and offerings dedicated to the wellbeing of all beings.

Yet, in some ways, the pilgrimage had no real ending.

The trail had brought together people from different countries and backgrounds, but the message they carried out of Garsha was larger than the distance they had walked. The Himalayas are changing, and whether we live in these mountains or far beyond them, what happens here affects us all.

Every step of the Garsha Eco Pad Yatra was a reminder of that connection, and a call to act while there is still time.

Contributed by Dechen Wangmo, who was among the 20 Bhutanese participants of the Garsha Eco Pad Yatra 2026.

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