Walking Through Markha Valley
Markha Valley wasn’t supposed to begin this way.
The night before, everything was packed. I had planned to hike the valley solo. The idea was simple. Carry a light backpack, stay at homestays whenever possible and walk one day at a time. I had already spoken to a few locals about the trail and weather. The next morning, it was raining.
Instead of starting, I spent another three to four days in Leh waiting for a weather window. During those days I met Valerio from Italy and Harry from South Korea. Somewhere over a few conversations, my solo trek quietly became a team of three. Since we were now carrying tents and food, our bags became heavier than originally planned.
The plan was to start from Yurutse and cross Ganda La, but locals suggested otherwise because of the conditions. So we entered through Chilling instead. Even that changed. Because of landslides, vehicles stopped at Sumdo Dah and the trek started earlier than expected.
By evening we had walked around 21 km with loaded backpacks before reaching Skyu. We pitched our tents beside Sonam Didi’s homestay, had a hot dinner there and slept well.
The valley felt unusually quiet the next morning. The previous week’s bad weather had kept most trekkers away. Long stretches of trail, small villages, river crossings and almost no one around. On the way to Markha we met a couple. The husband had come to drop his wife, a local nurse, back to the village. She tried walking further but eventually turned back because of the conditions. Before leaving, she smiled and asked, “Why are you taking all this struggle? What’s the fun?” I smiled back because I didn’t really have an answer.
We reached Markha late in the afternoon, hungry and finding lunch. An elderly uncle noticed us and cooked a hot meal. While talking, I realised he was a father of a friend. Sometimes the world feels very small. Clouds started building up, so we walked a little further, pitched our tents and spent the evening cooking, eating and sharing stories.
The next day we hoped to reach Chiu, but after the first two days we had stopped chasing plans. The weather was making most of the decisions. Near Hankar, dark clouds returned. A local suggested a campsite a little further ahead as we had everything we needed. A mule owner passing by agreed and said something I still remember, “Ghodo ko limitations hoti hai. Insaan to kahin bhi ja sakte.” We laughed and kept walking.
The next morning started with light drizzle. Within minutes it turned into snowfall. The higher we climbed, the colder it became. We stopped only once at Chhiu to cook something warm and dry our gloves. My toes had become painfully cold, but after warming them up as much as possible, I quickly put my shoes back on and kept walking.
By afternoon we reached Nimaling while it was still snowing. Instead of pitching our own tent, we stayed in one of the existing camps. That evening we met Norpu Lama, a Nepali guide we had crossed paths with earlier. When we asked him about Kongmaru La the next morning, he simply smiled and said, “We’ll see tomorrow.” It turned out to be one of the coldest nights I’ve spent outdoors.
The next morning, seven of us walked together. Three of us, Norpu and his three clients. Seven people from six different countries. Higher up, everything disappeared into white. Fresh snow covered the trail, visibility dropped and we walked quietly towards the pass without stopping much. The descent brought another challenge. River crossings. At first we removed our shoes and crossed barefoot. After a few crossings, everyone gave up. Wet shoes were simply easier than freezing every time we stopped. Norpu knew the route well and even found a shortcut that saved us several crossings. By noon we reached Chogdo and later shared a taxi back to Leh.
When I think about Markha Valley today, I don’t think about Kongmaru La first. I remember the uncle who cooked for us, the nurse who couldn’t understand why we enjoyed this, the lady in Umlung who sold us extra Maggi and rice, the mule owner, Norpu and a valley that felt calm because almost nobody else was there. Before this trek, I had spent preparing with GPX tracks, satellite imagery, local advice and backup plans. Markha taught me that preparation doesn’t remove uncertainty. It simply gives you the mindset to deal with it. That confidence stayed with me. It helped me attempt Khardung Tso the following week and later made me much more comfortable during my Advanced Mountaineering Course.
Markha Valley wasn’t the hardest trek I’ve done, but it quietly became one of the most memorable.
