The Diary of a Snow Leopard Researcher

First day jitters

This expedition would mark my third trip to Shey Phoksundo National Park, Nepal’s largest trans-Himalayan national park. I didn’t know what excited me most: the prospect of seeing snow leopards or being reunited with old friends, distanced for too long by some of the harshest terrains. Yet I was anxious — for the success of our expedition and our safety as we navigated Nepal’s rocky wild west. 

The goal was an ambitious one: to collar two snow leopards within just two months of fieldwork. Knowing that we had 10 months of preparation and planning behind us, I had full confidence in the team’s capacity. But I also knew we needed luck.

“A snow leopard jumped us”

“I was returning to my village with my animals; a snow leopard jumped us. Two mules lost balance and fell into the cliff below,” a local passerby shared with us. It's Day 2 of the trek and we’ve already encountered a case of human wildlife conflict. He was on his way to the park headquarters to claim relief for livestock loss. His case is indicative of what locals in this region face on a daily basis. 

Living in close proximity to snow leopards, these community members are key allies in our effort to protect the species, and the same ones who pour into our training sessions, eager to learn about how to protect what others might call ‘the enemy.’ There is much to learn from their traditions that forbid harm to nature.

Catching first sight

While on our ascent to High Camp, we stop by a familiar path. I had my first extremely rare sighting of a wild snow leopard here in 2018.  

I was buried in conversation with a senior game scout about their equipment and other needs, when Choeki, a female citizen scientist, called out, “Hiun Chituwa! Hiun Chituwa!” (Snow leopard! Snow leopard!) It didn’t register, until Tshiring, my former colleague and good friend, specifically pointed me to the animal’s direction. Even with a finger in its direction, it took me some time to locate it.

I always believed we couldn’t achieve conservation goals without local community support, and here I had a proof: when it comes to knowledge of the terrain, locals are unmatched experts.

Make a wish

Over the next three weeks, the team went through a roller-coaster of emotions — hope, disappointment and boredom, as we waited on standby for snow leopards. 

A string of rare events unfolded while waiting. We celebrated the Walchu festival, a rare event held after more than a decade, with over 300 people expected in attendance. I experienced my first clear shooting star sighting, and of course, I wished for the success of the expedition.

Face to face with the mountain ghost

It’s Day 16 and the camp finally erupted in cheers of “Hiun Chituwa!” (Snow Leopard!) We came face-to-face with Zeborong, a young male who would become Nepal’s fifth satellite collared snow leopard. 

We were prepared for this. The veterinary team sedated the animal and within an hour or so, he was examined, body measurements were recorded, and he was collared. 

After Zeborong was revived from sedation, we waited until he found safe hiding before heading back. The journey to the trap site had been largely down-hill; the return, although mostly uphill, felt a lot easier.

A surprise

Two days later, another snow leopard! The same procedure for Zeborong was repeated and Samling, the older male, was collared and released. 

We waited in the base camp for two nights, until the satellite uplink was established, and then began our journey back. 

And just like that, our expedition came to an end.

A tragic loss

For the next six months, the collars gave us some crucial insight into the lives of these predators. But then the data from one of the collars stopped. 

On 3 May 2020, Zeborong’s collar emitted a mortality signal. Further investigation confirmed his tragic death — possibly a retaliation killing after a livestock attack.

While such losses are tragic, they remind us of the importance of local communities; we want to secure their livelihoods as well as save the snow leopards.