Snow Leopards of Ladakh: A Journey with GoTravelDaily

One travel writer sets out on the trail of these elusive big cats and reports on the delicate truce between them and their human neighbors.

The Journey Begins

“Get in the car, quick,” shouted our guide, Tchewang Norbu, just as his crew had begun setting up a tailgate picnic. He came running down the hillside, a cloud of dust in his wake, and in less than a minute, our equipment was loaded, hot tea reluctantly wasted, car doors slammed. Consequently, we were hurtling downhill at breakneck speed.

The road, or what passes for it, bordered a sheer cliff, but that seemed immaterial. “Slow down,” Norbu said to the driver as we approached a bend, beyond which the road disappeared. “Stop!” Jumping out, he ran forward and trained his binoculars on a distant ridge. When he turned back to our vehicle, his face was wearing a wide grin.

Tracking the Snow Leopard

For nearly a week, we’d been tracking the snow leopard in and around the village of Ulley, in western Ladakh, India’s northernmost province—one of very few accessible regions where visitors stand a decent chance of spotting this elusive and endangered big cat. We’d trekked up slopes of loose shale following footprints, crouched in wait along grassy ridges, and braved winds that seemed considerably colder than the “feels like” reading on our weather apps. We had seen two varieties of wild sheep, ibex, Himalayan wolves, multiple bird species, and a lone red fox. However, the snow leopard, known in the region as the “gray ghost,” had eluded us. Until now.

“Look over there,” Norbu said, pointing to the top of a hill nearly half a mile away. “I don’t see anything,” I replied. As if in response, a snow leopard revealed herself, stretching in the classic “cat” yoga pose, shaking off the dust and cold of the night, and basking in the warmth of the morning sun. For a moment, it seemed we were witnessing a miracle.

The mother lowered her head, allowing her baby to climb onto her back, then fall off. Suddenly she stopped, sat up, and looked straight in our direction. Word of the sighting had spread, and eager safari-goers and other residents of the Snow Leopard Lodge, the homestay Norbu owns, had arrived, leaving a cloud of dust behind them that could be seen for miles around. (February is right in the middle of peak tourist season, so company was to be expected, though in this remote region, it rarely feels like a crowd.)

Nonetheless, all this human activity seemed to have caught the mother’s attention. We were told to quiet down, lest she decide to leave. Finally, Lady Leopard decided we posed no danger after all and lay down for a snooze. We heaved a collective sigh of relief.

Conservation Efforts

“I told you that you wouldn’t leave without seeing the shan,” Norbu said with a smile, using the Ladakhi word for snow leopard. I smiled back. Western Ladakh is mostly barren, its mountains stark and shale-covered. Spotting a snow leopard, or any animal for that matter, is like finding the proverbial needle in a haystack. Norbu, who has been guiding visitors since 2004, is something of a legend when it comes to tracking these creatures. He is a favorite of photographers, documentary filmmakers, and conservationists.

The relationship between man and apex predator hasn’t always been this respectful. Norbu explained that, as a child, he learned to track snow leopards from his grandfather and father, both formidable hunters who would seek revenge when the cats killed their cattle.

In Ladakh, conservation of the species got a boost in 2002, when the Snow Leopard Conservancy India Trust (SLC-IT), a much-lauded agency that works in the Himalayan regions of Ladakh and Spiti, introduced homestays in areas where human-animal conflict was a persistent problem. Dr. Tsewang Namgail, director of the SLC-IT, stated, “The homestays are the single most important contribution to conservation. Since they started, revenge killings have completely stopped. People realized that there’s more money to be made by protecting the shan.”

In addition to homestays, village cafés selling handmade souvenirs, as well as a livestock insurance program that covers predator attacks, have helped reduce human-animal conflict even more. Moreover, estimates suggest there are between 400 and 700 snow leopards living across the Himalayas, though camera traps suggest a much higher number.

On my final day in Ulley, I spent more than four hours watching the mother and her cubs sleep, play, and groom each other. I learned fascinating snow-leopard trivia from Norbu, such as their feeding habits after killing a large animal. As the sun dipped behind the mountains, Norbu reminded me it was time to leave. It was a two-hour drive to the capital city, Leh, and I had a plane to catch. While I was tempted to stay longer and immerse myself in this rare experience, it was time to say goodbye. For now, at least, the ghosts had slipped away.

andBeyond offers leopard-tracking Ladakh itineraries that include accommodation at Snow Leopard Lodge.

A version of this story first appeared in the December 2022/January 2023 issue of GoTravelDaily under the headline “Mountain Spirits.”