03/10/2023
Tashi is unrelenting. It is snowing and the winds howling. He is glued to his binoculars. He scans the horizon in a whiteout where it is impossible for the human eye to see anything. He is made of a different mettle. Born in Manang, Tashi knows the mountains like the back of his hand. In fact, he knows the trails, rocks, cliffs, crags, and the ridgelines snow leopards frequent. He has fixed camera traps from Manang all the way upto 5000 M and higher spanning hundreds and thousands of square kilometres for several organisations including the BBC and others. Like the snow leopard, Tashi melds into the mountains, home to the Annapurna massif and the people who inhabit this area. He is a mountain himself-silent, enduring and has a mountain of an experience. He is a brilliant photographer. For days, we followed the prey-the blue sheep through the clouds, in snow, on the high meadows, climbing higher each day, spotting the guardian angel of the mountains on high ridges. On this day, we started climbing from 4000 M in the morning and finally reached the top in the evening completely spent and nowhere to climb. We had spotted this snow leopard from a thousand metres below and he was determined to track it down. It was five in the evening. Turnaround weighed on my mind as we were several hours away from the warmth of our lodge in Manang. It started snowing. The young and beautiful snow leopard was couched in the grass perfectly camouflaged, waiting to present itself to us. After all, she knew we were following her all through the day and let us catch a glimpse of her. If ever there was a holy grail for nature, this was it. At 5000 M, in the far west Annapurna, Tashi and I with a snow leopard. She got up, trudged through the snow, picked up a spine, looked at us one last time and vanished into the whiteout. We packed our gear and slipped into the darkness on our long walk down the mountain to Manang.