Wari La: A Flora & Fauna Expedition Over Ladakh's Forgotten Pass

Most travellers cross into Nubra over Khardung La. We go the quiet way, over Wari La, where the mountains still belong to the wild things.

Between Sakti and Agham, a narrow road climbs to 5,312 metres (17,428 feet) over Wari La, one of the highest motorable passes in the world and one of the least travelled. There are no tea stalls, no army camps, no crowds; only vast skies, steep slopes and the occasional shepherd moving his flock. For a flora and fauna expedition, that emptiness is the whole point.

The way up

The journey begins at Sakti, below the cliff-set Taktok Monastery, and climbs slowly through Tangyar, a remote hamlet of barley fields and grazing pastures, before the switchbacks lift you into thin, cold, brilliant air. Now and then a yak herder moves his animals across the high pastures, often the only other soul for miles. We take it slowly, both for the altitude and for the life along the way.

The fauna

In the upper meadows, Himalayan marmots stand sentry at their burrows and whistle warnings across the slope. Blue sheep pick their way along impossible ledges, and higher still, the Himalayan ibex. A red fox may trot across the scree; a lammergeier or Himalayan griffon may wheel overhead on the thermals.

In the quietest, snow-brushed stretches, this is also snow-leopard country — the ghost that few will ever see, but whose presence is felt in every watchful marmot.

The flora

For a few short weeks in summer, the barren slopes surprise you. Wild herbs and mountain flowers bloom between the rocks, small, tenacious blooms that survive where almost nothing should, colouring a landscape that is bare rock and snow for the rest of the year.

A living pharmacy

Among those flowers grow the plants Ladakh has relied on for centuries. There is srolo, the high-altitude rhodiola prized in amchi medicine; palu, the aromatic dwarf rhododendron dried and burned as incense in homes and monasteries; and stinging nettle, foraged along the stream banks and cooked into warming Ladakhi soups.

Our naturalists, and the herders we meet along the way, read this fleeting garden like a pharmacy and a pantry: which plants heal, which are burned in prayer, which end up in the evening pot. Learning to see it, and to forage a little with those who know how, is part of the journey.

Why we go slowly

Wari La is raw and remote, and the altitude is serious. We build in acclimatisation, travel with experienced local drivers and naturalists, and never rush the pass. The reward is a day spent not ticking off a summit, but watching a whole high-altitude world at work.

If you would like to cross Ladakh's forgotten pass at the pace of its wildlife, we design private flora and fauna expeditions over Wari La for small groups. Reach out and we will build one around the season and what you hope to see.