He looked to us like something out of a 1960s Star Trek show. As we climbed, he danced upon the thin crust of frozen snow while we postholed up to our thighs. The horses were drowning under the weight of the packs, their bellies flush with the snow. Exhausted, we arrived at the top of the pass just as the wind picked up and it began to storm. Nimaling in the Markha Valley.
Horses can go no further.
Either you return with me via the same route or you go ahead and do it alone. Then again, we had exchanged our packs for duffel bags which were easier for the horses to carry. We elected to go on alone, our sleeping bags and what food we could carry stuffed into our day packs, agreeing to meet our guide 5 days hence back in Leh. As we descended, the gorge began to widen into a large green valley. After 16 hours of hiking we arrived at a small farm house whose occupants agreed to sell us 2 cups of chai.