Northern Pakistan: Death Defying Beauty

Jake and I landed in Islamabad and were immediately greeted with a notice from the US embassy of planned protests in the area and potential blockages of the road. It turns out the blockages were very much real. The government had blocked almost every major road with piles of dirt, shipping containers, and parked 18 wheelers.

Our driver Rauf skillfully circumnavigated these blockades by fully driving the wrong way on an interstate. Hello Pakistan.

Before I go any further, let me zoom out and explain what Jake and I are doing in Pakistan. There is an amazing woman named Mishka (who happens to be an avid blog viewer and commenter - you should all strive to be like Mishka) who works at Dartmouth and recommended we visit Northern Pakistan. So we did a little research (the little will become apparent soon enough) and booked an 11 day tour with the company she recommended. And it was an incredible decision. As you will learn throughout the next three blog posts, Pakistan is an amazing country that has successfully worked its way into my top spot for favorite country of the trip so far.

Before we began dodging shipping containers on the highway, we met our tour guide, Israr, and our driver, Rauf. Israr is a quiet but jovial 35 year old man with a tendency of beginning and/or ending his sentences with the word "actually." He has a calm demeanor and a big charming grin that forms crinkles around his eyes.

Our driver, Rauf, is an extremely skinny chain smoking master of the Pakistani roads. Every stop, no matter how brief, was an excuse for him to light up. He spoke essentially no English but would chatter away with Israr during our long drives. We asked Israr how old Rauf was and he said 27. For a while we thought Rauf was the most powerful anti-smoking ad in existence. Turns out he's actually 42.

So that's the crew. The four of us were to be together for the next 11 days.

On our one night in Islamabad Israr took us to this mosque - its modern design may look familiar because it was a gift from our good friends over in the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia.

Post-mosque we had our first meal in Pakistan - rice, vegetables, bread, and chicken karahi. This would become an extremely familiar combo. The food was exquisite and immediately launched Pakistan into contention for best food of the trip. Flavorbomb certified.

The next day we began 11 hours of driving deep into the North. The journey consisted of winding mountain roads interspersed with stretches of dirt road which our Toyota sedan tackled with confidence. We drove past assorted villages, herds of sheep, and people riding atop colorful trucks. The US should look into decking out heavy trucks like this:

I drifted off to sleep and woke up five hours into our drive at this scenic lookout. As Jake and I both stepped out onto literal ice still in flip flops we realized that 1) Northern Pakistan is stunning, 2) we had done no research as to what Northern Pakistan looked like at all, and 3) Jake needed to buy a hat and gloves immediately. For the first time it occurred to me how little research I had done into our 11 day itinerary. Blinded by the 100˚ Jeddah weather we both genuinely forgot that there are cold places in the world in October. Turns out Northern Pakistan is one of them.

Over dinner we learned we would be living out of backpacks hiking from hut to hut over the next four days. With no service or WiFi. This was the second time it occurred to me how little research I had done into our itinerary.

Naturally the next morning we prepared by stocking up on Snickers (10 each).

Upon closer inspection we noticed that half of our "Snickers" were actually Iranian knockoffs. I guess the trade embargo forced them to get creative.

We drove for an hour before changing vehicles to a more rugged Jeep. We wished Rauf a four day goodbye and hopped in - how fun!

That was the last photo I took before terror overcame my body. Our scenic Jeep ride quickly dissolved into something out of my worst nightmares. The road deteriorated into a rubble filled track barely the width of our Jeep. As we climbed higher and higher the dropoff over the side of the unprotected road grew to potentially lethal heights. And then certainly lethal. Genuinely thousand foot sheer drops and we were just one poorly placed rock away from tumbling over the edge. And then I looked closer at our vehicle: a 1970s Toyota Land Cruiser with not a single thing in full repair. Broken door handles, exposed dangling wires, taped over holes, and missing buttons. I could not muster a thought and was instead overwhelmed with the most gripping sense of fear I have ever experienced. This was the third time I realized I really had not sufficiently researched our itinerary.

This is me clutching the metal beam of our uncovered Jeep for dear life.

Just when I thought things couldn't get any worse we parked and our driver began pouring water directly onto our laboring and steaming engine. And then when I thought now things couldn't get any worse we got to the switchbacks. These turns were so tight they couldn't be done in one go. So we had to reverse blindly backing up towards the sheer drop and then hit the gas. At this point my thoughtless fear had progress into a more thoughtful fear. Some genuine thoughts that occurred to me: the fragility of my own life, guilt for being responsible for Jake's death, what happens to my assets post-mortem, should I have made a will?

^ Google image.

When our ride ended I was hit with a confusing blend of relief and dread for the inevitable trip back down in four days time.

We stopped for lunch and then set off hiking. The scenery was stunning.

At one point Israr had a gun?

When we reached Fairy Meadows we realized that this man who had been tagging along with us since the Jeep ride was our local guide - Ati (right). The mountain life has aged him.

The Fairy Meadows camp was immediately one of the most beautiful places I've ever been in my entire life. Raw Himalayan beauty mixed with towering pines and open grass fields with various grazing animals. The ninth tallest mountain in the world, Nanga Parbat towered over everything.

We stayed in a cozy wooden lodge.

This was the view out of our room:

We were just settling in when at 4pm the sun tucked behind the mountains and the temperature plummeted by maybe 30 degrees. We immediately threw on every layer. I was wearing two pairs of socks, two pairs of pants, a t shirt, long sleeve shirt, thin hoodie, fleece, raincoat, hat, and gloves. And barely making it through.

Jake contemplating if he can go another three days of below freezing weather with just me as company and no WiFi:

We played cards and journaled and read.

Eventually we enjoyed a warm dinner of rice, vegetables, chicken, and chapati and chatted with other guests before heading to an early bedtime. Thankfully our small unheated room came with multiple thick blankets to help us make it through the night.

The next day we set out to hike closer to Nanga Parbat to the remote Beyal camp. We were greeted with some lovely tea on our front porch.

We dropped our bags and continued up to the base camp of Nanga Parbat (around 3,500 meters / 11,500 feet of elevation).

The base camp was in fact a singular abandoned building surrounded by snow. But the views were spectacular. We were both consistently blown away by the jagged snow capped peaks and dramatic landscapes.

Ati looking super chill:

We hiked back to Beyal camp in time to layer up and eat dinner in the kitchen (the only warm room in the camp). We ate rice, vegetables, chicken, and chapati.

Fortunately our stone hut included a place for a much needed fire to keep us warm overnight.

It also came with a bathroom.

No there was not a sink.

Already stunning during the day, the Pakistani Himalayas also come alive at night with vibrant stars and the Milky Way smeared across the sky.

We made it through the night. The next morning to entertain ourselves with no WiFi Jake and I used some rusty geometry skills to figure out if shadows grow at a faster rate as the sun gets closer to the horizon (they do).

Instead of brushing up on their soh cah toa skills the locals opted for a version of the boardgame Sorry! instead. We realized in the morning that Jake and I were the only tourists in the entire camp. It was us, Israr and Ati, and about nine local men.

Then we set off back to Fairymeadows. Beyal camp was the single most beautiful place I've spent a night in my entire life. Northern Pakistan is unreal.

When we got back to the camp Israr took us to go see the famous Fairy Meadows lake we had seen online.

The "lake":

On the way back I did take this artsy photo though.

That night at the campfire I began dreading the inevitable Jeep ride the next day. I asked a local guide why there are no guardrails on the road. He said there are no guardrails because the landslides would just knock them off anyway. Yeah right.

This is the aftermath of a landslide that happened that same night:

So we after hiking down from Fairy Meadows we took a thirty minute detour up the mountain to climb around the newly destroyed section of the road.

And then we were back to the hour and a half Jeep ride from hell!

Eventually we made it out. I gave Rauf the biggest hug when we saw him again. I had never felt so close to death for such a prolonged period of time.
For those of you who may be doubting my report of this Jeep ride let me show you what I learned on Google once we returned to WiFi:

As described:

This rather nightmarish road winds its way through the mountains of Pakistan at heights over 3,000m above sea level at some points and is only wide enough for one vehicle at a time. Once again, there are no safety barriers to stop you from plunging into the valleys below. And this happens quite a lot.

Bruh.

We celebrated being alive with more rice, vegetables, chicken, and bread of course:

So ended the first chapter of the first act of our Pakistan journey. While I plan to never return to that cursed road, I am glad I did it once. Truly pictures do not capture the serenity and awe that the beauty of Northern Pakistan inspires. Once in a lifetime experience.

While the trekking portion was over, we still had six days left in our tour. Israr assured me that no more Jeep rides were in our future. Thank God. More to come!