Glacial Moraine on Kailash Approach
One of the holiest places for Tibetans lies on the massif of Mt. Kailash itself. Geologically, Serdung Chusum (Tibetan = gser dung bcu gsum) is little more than a horizontal crack in the southern side of the massif, but culturally and spiritually it is the sacred heart. Tradition holds that it is a restricted place. The outer kora of Kailash, a 51 km loop around the river valleys and the pass of Drolma La (sgrol ma la) must be completed 13 times before entrance to the so-called inner kora is allowed.
The whole region of the inner kora is encapsulated by high, rugged ridges that point southwards from Mt. Kailash. There is now a road that goes up from Darchen, switchbacking up to Gyangdrag Gonpa on an eastern fork or Serlung Gonpa on a western fork. It’s wild country: the Serlung river streams down from glacial remnants on Kailash itself. Round-bottomed glacial valleys are sided by cliffs and glacial moraine. Loose talus is the only kind of footing.
Evidence of permanent human habitation tops out around 5300 m in the Serlung river valley, a good hike above Serlung Gonpa itself. This is the Zhang Zhung site Sheldra, in another horizontal cleft in the cliffs of the valley wall. Beyond this point, the environment turns harsh: no surface water, exposure to the weather and the wind. At the base of the Kailash massif is a large terminal and lateral glacial moraine. It indicates there may have been water and more glacier there at some point, but I speculated at the time that it couldn’t have been much — there simply isn’t room for a glacial nursery there. A steep, loose footing, sometimes hand-over-hand climb brought us to the thirteen chortens at Serdung Chusum (chusum – Tibetan = bcu gsum, meaning 13). There are actually 14 chortens, 13 main and newer ones and 1 older, lone one beyond the actual cleft. An ancient, and powerful place.
The ledge is maybe 2 meters wide, and several hundred meters up from the base of the valley. Above, the hulking shoulder of Kailash looms straight up. The place is windy and shaded. It’s far from water, and impossibly cold. The temperature on the day I visited was 20 degrees Fahrenheit at 1:30 in the afternoon. In mid-June. On a sunny day. This climate, in this place, has a merciless quality to it. The site is rarely visited and only in the most special of circumstances, and seems utterly timeless. It is not quiet and serene, like a retreat site, but formidable. One could imagine ancient adepts going there, though it is fairly clear that no normal human could have lived there.
A few years ago, a National Geographic article shared the acclaim of the place, the author visiting during Ta Lo (rta lo), the year of the horse, when one outer kora would suffice before heading to the inner kora. Since then, a few western visitors to the Kailash area have been requesting to go there. According to our porters, they entertain such requests 3 or 4 times per year. Yet these kinds of places have a feel that they are meant to be left alone. I hope that the ruggedness and remoteness and sacredness of Serdung Chusum will keep all but the most respectful away. That is the best kind of preservation we can go for, in this delicate place.
