Climbing the mountains of northern India with glaciers on one side and sheer drops on the other the Nubra Road in India's Ladakh enclave is truly breathtaking. Richard Humphries toured the highest road in the world on a fascinating journey which is not for the faint-hearted.

For visitors seeking new "highs", Hafizullahbat, a Muslim taxi driver in Leh, the principle town in the remote Indian enclave of Ladakh, had no doubts about what they should do. "You should go to Nubra-highest road in the world. Many Indians come and get nosebleed. No oxygen, so car makes very strange sound, like animal coughing."

Sandwiched between the fierce Karakorums and the Western Himalayas, the enclave is also bisected by two smaller ranges: the Ladakh and the Zanskar. Its highest peak is Saser Kangri at 7680 meters, and Leh itself is relatively high at 3500 meters. That Ladakh would boast the world's highest motorable road is therefore somewhat unsurprising. What is surprising is that such a remote and dry region (the mountainous shield has created what is essentially a high-altitude desert) should possess a thriving, if sparse, population, and also have a history of trading contacts.

The population of roughly 140,000 comprises four major groups: nomadic Mons, the mainly Muslim Dards, Shia Muslim Baltis, and the Ladakhis, mostly of Tibetan stock, with varying degrees of admixture. The majority of Ladakh's peoples are self-supporting farmers, and the size of their settlements depends on the availability of river water and snow melt for irrigation (only 210 sq. km of Ladakh is arable). Barley is the staple crop and domestic animals such as sheep, goats, yaks, and dzos (a cross between a yak and a cow) are also raised for food, labor, and clothing.

Leh was long a significant staging post on an outlier of the silk road, as the town connected Kashmir with the Chinese Central Asian entrepot of Yarkand. Traffic along this route ceased in 1949 after the bloody events surrounding the Indo-Pakistani Partition (Ladakh was a major battleground), combined with the closure of the border by the Chinese communist government, which had established an effective presence in the area. When the caravans did travel along this route, they would proceed north from Leh, over the Khardung-La Pass, down to the Nubra valley and on from there to the Karakorum Pass and eventually to Yarkand. This route may have lost its economic significance but certainly not its strategic purpose. A road was built after in the early 1970s from Leh to Nubra, which ran roughly parallel to the old caravan trail. This was the route recommended by Hafizullahbat.

This journey is not for those who prefer gentle upward or downward gradations. A monument to road building in harsh terrain, it rises from 3500 meters in Leh to 5603 meters at Khardung-la, the pass at the summit, and does so in just 39 kilometers. It then descends, over a slightly longer distance down the other side, to about 3000 meters in the Nubra valley. Infrequent buses run from Leh to the Nubra settlements, and, at a fare of less than ¥200 for the six to eight hour journey, are an unbelievable bargain. At the lowest elevations the road is paved on either side for about a third of the way, and appears to have been literally carved out of the sides of mountains. The switchbacks and hairpin turns, plus the necessity for vehicles heading in opposite directions to carefully inch their way past one other, combined with the icy stretches and occasional blizzards the higher one gets, induce the feeling that not only is one close to the heavens but also that an accident might mean they are reached all too soon.

The Indian authorities are aware of this and have painted a series of warning signs along the way. These range from the alliterative (Carelessness Causes Casualties/Beware of Bends) or poetic (Speed Thrills But Kills) to the subtle (Your Family is Waiting, Drive Slowly). Accidents do occasionally occur, and there are visual reminders in the form of wrecks, but on the whole it would appear that the admonitions are understood and followed.

The sheer terror of looking out a window, not seeing the edge of the road, and being able to contemplate a 500-meter vertical drop does not detract from the spectacular, ethereal, almost lunar, mountain scenery. The dominant colors are shades of brown, with slight contrasts provided by the whites of glaciers and peaks, and the thin green ribbons of irrigated streams that wither and die as more altitude is gained. At the top is the inevitable marker as well as a welcome tea stall where hot drinks are served gratis to travelers. The air is exceedingly thin, especially for those unacclimatized to the altitude and it doesn't pay to linger too long, especially with the unpredictable weather in the pass.

Difficult as the trip is, the world's highest motorable road has attracted some with alternative, and certainly unusual forms of transport. According to the Limca Book of Records (1995), India's answer to the Guiness volume, "Three youngsters, Rajnish Kumar Singh, Ishwar C. Srivastav, and Piyush Kumar roller skated to Khardung-La. They started from Leh on September 6, 1989 and reached Khardung-La the next day at 5 PM."

It isn't stated whether, in their enthusiasm for this novel way of mountain road travel, they continued downward into the Nubra valley. Had they done so, they would've found one of Asia's most beautiful, hidden valleys. As it has only been open to tourism for three years and some restrictions are still in force (one-week stays, group travel, and permits needed) it remains largely free of the processes of modernization and deculturization, which are beginning to take their toll on the more accessible areas of Ladakh, such as in and around Leh.

The valley is laced by two tributaries of the mighty Indus river, the Shyok and the Nubra. Its topography is much more lush that of other areas in Ladakh, with meltwater from nearby glaciated peaks feeding both cultivated fields and the two rivers well into late summer. The colorful setting has led one writer to compare the Nubra to, "a large emerald set in a tiara of sparkling diamonds."

The fertility of the valley is such that two plantings of barley a year are possible. Other crops grown including apricots, walnuts, peas, onions, buckwheat, and millet. The people live in a few medium-sized villages and towns and are primarily farmers, taking turns to divert the life-giving irrigation channels to their fields. Firewood is readily available as hypophae, a low thick bushwood, grows wild throughout the valley. The pace of life is measured, and very much dependent on seasonal rhythms. Buddhist monasteries, such as the spectacular white edifice nestled in the hills just outside of Deskit, the region's largest town, add a vital spiritual complement to the inhabitant's lives.

For short-term visitors, the sense of remoteness and isolation can be exhilarating. Nonetheless, this feeling isn't shared by all. Many in Nubra are anxious not to miss out on the presumed benefits of tourism and development, while some, particularly those schoolteachers from other parts of India, who must serve for two and a half years in the border regions before being allowed to teach in their home areas, would rather be somewhere else, "There are three of us at this school and we must take our holidays turn by turn. The other teacher has not returned and it is now the 17th. He should have been back on the 1st and we are very, very unhappy. It is my turn...", was the lament of one young woman from Jammu.

For those in need of recuperation, hot springs are found overlooking the Nubra river just below the village of Panamik. These waters are said to contain ameliorative properties beneficial to sufferers of rheumatism, skin disorders, and, it is even claimed, syphilis. The caravan traders of old had a more prosaic use; the springs offered what was perhaps the only bath on a long and difficult journey.

Panamik is as far as visitors are permitted to venture. Further upriver, the Nubra originates in the Siachen glacier, which probably possesses the dubious distinction of being the world's highest land battleground. Indian and Pakistani soldiers face each other in the chilly, oxygen-starved environment and occasionally clash in this updated version of what used to be known as the Great Game. Reuters reported military activity occurring as recent as September 1996. The wars, battles, and political maneuverings that followed Partition in 1948 left Kashmir (of which Ladakh was part) divided into sectors under Indian and Pakistani control (China seized a 38,000 sq. km chunk of Ladakh from India in the 1962 border war). The de facto border is known, with direct, if linguistically simple terminology, as the "Line of Control". The Siachen area is at the end of the line and is, as yet, undemarcated, and therefore disputed.

Back in Leh, I wanted to learn more about the road that had earned its way into the record books, but given the heightened security consciousness, detailed information proved very difficult to get, as a visit to the headquarters of the builders, Himank, just outside Leh, showed. Part of the larger Border Roads Organization, Himank is certainly proud of its achievement. One of their signs reads "The sky is the limit. Himank gets you there". The senior official I spoke to, who most definitely declined to be named, was very guarded. He did boast that "We are the largest departmental construction agency in the world" (and alluded to a project done in Libya), and did say that Himank translated as "snow one" in Hindi. He had previously been given a list of questions but declined to answer many of them, citing security considerations. Some inquiries that seemed innocuous provoked curious responses. Asked what year the road was first opened he said, "If I tell you the road has been in existence for two decades, does that satisfy your need to know on this question". When asked the length of the road and for any interesting anecdotes concerning its construction he recommended that "...for mileages you should read the markers. If we tell you, then it becomes official. For unusual stories, please ask the locals". When finally asked the inevitable-Are you a military organization?- he smiled broadly and replied "I did not say that".

Strangely enough, while the past is a closed book, future plans for the road to Nubra are discussed. According to the official, "This is an ongoing project. Of course we are looking to widen the road and to pave it but paving the top is no easy matter. In winter, we need bulldozers to keep it open [and the temperature often sinks to -50° C] and the bulldozers we use would dig up your average paving". The bulldozers are needed as the temperature often sinks to minus 50 degrees Celsius, making for icy road conditions.

Still, any disappointment at the lack of information about the initial building of the road must be tempered with due recognition of its strategic value in a region characterized by such profound suspicion and intermittent hostilities between neighbors. Whether or not one agrees with, or even understands, the positions of the protagonists, one cannot really expect officials on either side of the border, particularly military or quasi-military ones, to be overly informative to the passing traveler. What is important is that this spectacular and literally breathtaking road can now be traversed and appreciated by those who make the effort to visit this remote and enchanting land.

*no republication without the permission of the copyright holder (RH)