By Gunjan Silwal, OnePlanet Doctoral Student
I am undertaking a PhD in glaciology at Newcastle University, focusing on quantifying glacier disconnection, fragmentation, and separation, and assessing their impact on glacier mass loss and ice flow in the Himalayas.
My PhD involves high altitude fieldwork in inaccessible regions in Nepal. In November 2024, I conducted glacier fieldwork in Nepal, in the Langtang Valley, located in the Central Nepalese Himalaya. Here, I describe the fieldwork, from initial planning and design to the daily activities carried out in the field, which may be interesting both for people also planning fieldwork, but also to highlight the intensity of working in these environments.
The Long Road to the Langtang Valley
Back in April, I sat down with my primary supervisor Bethan Davies to sketch out my fieldwork’s scope and objectives. What followed were months of planning and preparation: meetings, email exchanges, and checklists about fieldwork logistics and potential collaborations. Fortunately, we established connections early on with Kathmandu University (KU), the International Centre for Integrated Mountain Development (ICIMOD) from Nepal, and with a Mountain Hydrology team from Utrecht University, who were all conducting fieldwork in Langtang Valley around the same time in November.
Planning a glaciological expedition in a remote Himalayan valley is no simple task. I knew I needed a solid team. Finding a capable research assistant was a top priority, and I was relieved when Dawa Sherpa, a field glaciologist from Kathmandu University (KU), agreed to join me.
We also needed a trekking agency that understood the specific needs of a scientific expedition. Himalayan Research Expedition (HRE), a trekking agency with a strong track record of supporting scientific expeditions in the Nepalese Himalaya, seemed like the perfect fit.
Newcastle University’s Geography, Politics, and Sociology (GPS) finance team and Selective Travel took care of the flight arrangements, while the Physical Geography Unit helped me with the risk assessments. They also kindly provided some equipment to take in the field.
Seven months after that initial meeting, the expedition now felt like a fully-fledged plan, ready to be put into action.
The Research Permit hurdle
But readiness is not the same as permission—not when drones are involved in a fieldwork in the National Parks and Wildlife Conservation Areas of Nepal. Obtaining research permits was daunting as the glaciers were inside Langtang National Park. Nepal’s bureaucratic maze and administrative processes tested my patience as I navigated layers of approvals from government institutions. The paperwork alone was intimidating, and on top of that came the expensive fees for drone flight permits.
After over 25 email correspondences and constant follow-up, I finally got an approval from the Department of National Parks and Wildlife Conservation (DNPWC) and the Village Council Office of Rasuwa district for drone and dGPS survey.
Preparing for the Known and Unknown
From my past experiences working on glaciers, I knew that thorough preparation was key to successful glacier fieldwork. To prepare for the challenges ahead, I attended drone flight training sessions, a week-long summer school in Innsbruck focused on close sensing of Alpine environments using various technologies and sensors, and crevasse rescue and wilderness first aid training.
I knew each of these skills would be significant for this fieldwork expedition. My notebook, too, filled with to do lists—gear and equipment to borrow from KU and ICIMOD, items to pack from Newcastle, and essentials I still needed to purchase in Kathmandu for the fieldwork.
The Journey Begins
On October 28th, the day of departure arrived. I took a 3.5-hour train from Newcastle to London Heathrow, with ~25 kgs of luggage carrying my personal gear and equipment to catch my 6 pm flight to Kathmandu. And as the plane took off at 6 p.m., I reflected on the 4,500 miles journey ahead. Seventeen hours later, on October 29th, I landed in Nepal’s bustling capital, ready to put months of planning and preparation into action.
October 30th was a day of errands and official business. First, I visited the Civil Aviation Authority of Nepal (CAAN) to officially register the drone. Then, I collected hard copies of permits from DNPWC. Finally, I met with the trekking agency, Himalayan Research Expedition (HRE), to finalize logistics. After all the official business, I got to celebrate Tihar, the festival of lights, with family here in Kathmandu. I had some nice moment of calm before heading into the mountains.
Into the Langtang Valley
On November 6th, our field team—Dawa (my research assistant), Mahesh (our mountain guide), Damu (our cook), and I—left Kathmandu for Syafrubesi, the gateway to Langtang Valley. After a bumpy six-hour jeep ride, we arrived and met our four porters who would carry our gear and supplies to the camp sites and glaciers. With gruelling days ahead, we crawled into our beds early for a good night’s rest.
Trekking Through Time and Change
From November 7th to 9th, our days followed a steady rhythm: wake up at 6 a.m., have breakfast by 8 a.m., and trek relentlessly for hours and adapt slowly to the elevation gain. We hiked for 3-4 hours before lunch, followed by another 3-4 hours in the afternoon to reach our tea/guest house for the night.
Each evening, I briefed my team about the next day’s plan and spent time chatting with trekkers, guides, and tea/guest house owners sharing stories and learning about the changes taking place in the Langtang Valley.
Marking the changes
The transformation of Langtang Valley since my last visit in spring 2018 was staggering. New hydropower plants were under construction along the Langtang River. A road extension to Sherpagoan had even shortened the traditional trekking route by a full day, a significant change for both locals and trekkers.
In Langtang Village, a new settlement had emerged right beside the old one, which still lay buried under the debris caused by the devastating 2015 Gorkha Earthquake. The sight was a powerful reminder of both loss and resilience.
But the most remarkable shift was the surge of trekkers and visitors. The trails and tea/guest houses were bustling, filled with domestic tourists- mostly Nepalese youth and trekkers from across the globe. This vibrant scene contrasted sharply with the quieter valley of my earlier visits, dominated by foreign trekkers.
While it was inspiring to see Nepalese youth exploring their country’s natural beauty and contributing to the local economy, this heavy influx of visitors brought its own set of challenges. In conversations with locals, I sensed growing concerns about how to balance development with the preservation of Langtang’s culture and fragile environment. It was clear that the valley was at a crossroads, trying to embrace progress while holding on to its identity.
Kyangjin Gumba: The Last Village
On November 9th, we reached Kyangjin Gumba at ~3860 m asl, the last village in the valley. Here, we enjoyed a hot shower, a comfortable bed, and a hearty meal- small luxuries before the hard work on the glaciers.
We also met the Utrecht University team—Walter Immerzeel, Philip Kraaijenbrink, and Joseph Shea. Walter, a world-renowned professor of mountain hydrology and a leading scientist, has long been a pioneer of groundbreaking research on glaciology and hydrology in the Himalaya. His work has shaped climate adaptation and mitigation strategies across the Hindu Kush Himalaya (HKH), particularly in the critical areas of the food-water-energy nexus. Learning about Utrecht University’s new research project in the valley and discussing my fieldwork plans with Walter’s team was both humbling and motivating. It reminded me of the broader significance of my PhD research.
The real fieldwork
The next day on November 10th, we set off early for Yala Lower Camp, ~5000 m asl, where the Yala Glacier awaited us. As I lay in bed the night before, I felt a deep sense of purpose—this wasn’t just an expedition, but a chance to study glacial processes in the Himalayas that had remained unexplored.
After a gruelling 3.5-hour uphill trek and ~1200 m elevation gain, we reached Yala Lower Camp by 11:30 a.m., exhausted yet exhilarated. The thin, crisp mountain air was a constant reminder of the altitude. Our guide and cook welcomed us with hot drinks, soup, and a hearty lunch. In the afternoon, we helped Walter’s team with their time-lapse cameras and temperature loggers —important instruments for collecting data and for capturing glacier changes and the surrounding environmental processes.
As the sun set behind the peaks, casting golden hues across the sky, we turned our focus to preparations for the next day’s work. Gear and equipment were sorted, drone batteries charged, software updated, and the dGPS tested. After dinner, we shared laughs over a game of UNO before going to bed. As I crawled into my sleeping bag that night, the excitement for the glacier works ahead mingled with the gratitude for being part of something so profoundly important.
November 11th: Yala Glacier Survey
We started early, hiking up toward Yala Glacier. The first challenge was setting up the dGPS base station at ~5100 m asl near the Yala basecamp. It took nearly an hour to secure enough satellite signals—an expected challenge at this altitude—but we eventually succeeded. From there, we climbed further up the glacier.
Yala Glacier was almost unrecognizable since my last visit six years ago. Its size had nearly halved, with large, exposed bedrocks protruding, ice cliffs and deep crevasses growing all over the glacier. The terminus had retreated a few 100 meters, a stark visual reminder of how rapidly these mountain glaciers are shrinking in response to the climate change.
With the dGPS, we measured terminus position, marked ice cliffs and exposed bedrocks where possible, and conducted two drone flights—one at 5100 m asl and another at 5300 m asl. The drone captured some detailed footage of the glacier terminus, ice cliffs, crevasses, and surrounding features. Pushing ourselves further, we climbed up to 5600 m asl, to the Yala ridge, where we collected additional GPS measurements of the crevasses in the accumulation area of the glacier.
It was an exhausting but incredibly productive day. By the time we returned to camp at 5 p.m., we were so tired. Right after the dinner, we crawled into our tents, knowing the following day would bring another long trek to Langshisa Kharka.
November 12th: Trek to Langshisha Kharka
The trek to Langshisha Kharka, a remote meadow at the far end of the Langtang Valley, was long and gruelling. Nearly nine hours of relentless walking left us drained, but the sight of the towering peaks and the vast, silent landscape filled us with awe.
As we set up our camp and tents, the evening chill quickly descended, but our guide and cook, as ever, greeted us with steaming bowls of soup and a warm meal that warmed us. The porters gathered firewood and built a small fire. We huddled around it, discussed the plan for the next day before fatigue took over. One by one, we retreated to our tents, eager for rest.
November 13th: Langshisha Glacier Survey
We woke early to clear skies and biting cold. After setting up the dGPS base station at the campsite, we began our hike toward Langshisha Glacier. Walking through the glacier valley, we measured dGPS points of the frontal and lateral moraines wherever possible. It had retreated so far that reaching its terminus from the valley was impossible. Even our drone flights could not capture its current terminus position.
Seven hours of climbing, surveying, and navigating the rough debris covered glacier, we finally called it a day. As we made our way back to camp, the sun slipped behind the peaks, casting long shadows across the valley. Exhausted and chilled to the bone we made it to the camp where we were welcomed by the familiar comfort of steaming hot soup and warm meal.
That evening, as we sat around the fire, the fragility of the Himalayas weighed on us. Glaciers, vital freshwater sources for millions living downstream, are shrinking, and melting rapidly. Witnessing their rapid decline within such short timeframe was heartbreaking but also a powerful reminder of the urgent need for action to protect these mountain systems before it’s too late.
November 14th–16th: Return to Kyangjin and Lirung Glacier Surveys
On November 14th, we made our way back to Kyangjin, taking a slower pace to recover from the previous days’ hard work. That evening, I met Sunil Tamang, a fellow PhD student originally from Langtang who is researching on rock glaciers in New Zealand. It was inspiring to connect with someone equally passionate about glaciology and to share insights and experiences. Later in the evening we met with ICIMOD’s big team and briefed about each other ‘s fieldwork activities. It was a great opportunity to learn and collaborate.
Over the next two days, we conducted surveys of Lirung Glacier using both dGPS and drone. The fieldwork went smoothly and efficiently, thanks to clear, sunny weather that held up until late afternoon.
November 17th: Conversations with the Locals
With my glacio-geomorphological survey and data collection nearly complete, I spent November 17th engaging with guesthouse owners and locals in Kyangjin. We discussed the environmental changes they had observed firsthand—retreating glaciers, shifting landscapes, and unpredictable weather patterns.
I shared images and slides showing the dramatic glacier changes in the Langtang Valley and explained the purpose of my research to them. Their stories and lived experiences could bring a powerful human dimension to the scientific work we conduct.
These conversations and stories were both enlightening and humbling and reminding me of the real-world significance of my research.
November 18th–20th: The Journey Back
On November 18th, we began our descent, trekking down to Rimche ~2500 m asl, and on November 19th, we reached Syafrubesi. On the evening of November 20th after seven hours of bumpy jeep ride, we were back to Kathmandu, bringing two weeks of intense fieldwork to a close.
Overall Reflection of the Expedition
This field expedition was ideal and successful. I accomplished everything I had set out to do, thanks to a dedicated team, a skilled research assistant, and an experienced mountain guide, whose support were invaluable to the success of the fieldwork. No one fell sick during the fieldwork and the weather was on our side throughout—clear, sunny days provided perfect conditions for conducting drone flights, allowed us to smoothly collect the dGPS measurement points, and even allowed efficient battery charging of the drone with a portable solar panel. The high-resolution drone imagery and precise dGPS measurements collected from this fieldwork will be used for validating my glacier and glacier features mapping chapter and the next chapter on mass-energy balance modelling.
Reflecting on this journey, I am filled with gratitude and a renewed sense of purpose. Witnessing the glaciers of Langtang Valley retreat, thin, and melt at such an alarming rate and some even disappearing was heartbreaking. These glaciers are vital for millions of people living downstream, and understanding the forces driving their change, their current behaviour, and their future evolution is critical for sustainable water resources management and mitigation of glacial hazards in the region 3,4.
This expedition reaffirmed the importance of my PhD project: unravelling the physical processes driving glacier disconnection, fragmentation, and separation in the Himalaya and their impacts on mass balance and ice flow dynamics for more reliable predictions of their future behaviour and evolution. I am deeply grateful to my supervisors, whose guidance and support—from defining fieldwork objectives to navigating complex university’s finance system for logistics—made this fieldwork possible.
About the Author
Gunjan Silwal is a PhD student at Newcastle University.
Before joining my PhD here at Newcastle University in the School of Geography, Politics, and Sociology, I worked as a research associate glaciologist at the International Centre for Integrated Mountain Development (ICIMOD) and Kathmandu University (KU) in Nepal. Consequently, I had numerous opportunities to participate in several glacier fieldwork expeditions and led a few in the Langtang and the Dhaulagiri Himal.