“They spoke of a mysterious cat of the mountains. But, I never saw one.”
Myanmar Tibetan Buddhist hunter from Dahawndum |
The Last Village, Dahawndum, a Buddhist community that is as close as humans in Myanmar get to snow leopards. The ancestry of these people belies their geographic location in the jungle. They have closer ties to Tibetan Buddhists high on the Tibetan Plateau, who famously dwell among the snow leopards, than to any of the many ethnic groups adjacent to them in the south. Yet, it appears that life in the jungle had filtered out any cultural relevance of the mountain cats.
Rugged, snow-capped peaks rise beyond our guest home in the Last Village, Dahawndum. |
During our 17 day trek through the jungles, the initial stage of the 50 day expedition, we questioned villagers whose homes we passed through, had they ever heard of a snow leopard? Had they ever seen a skin or other parts? The answers were always ‘no.’ The cat was completely unknown to them. In retrospect, this might not be too surprising. I can think of few habitat comparisons as different as jungle and the high elevation range typical for snow leopards. Most of the people living in theses tropical forests know little about the lands above treeline, much less that a large cat might be there. We would be going into a region and landscape where our Myanmar partners had very little exposure and experience.
A stark contrast between the dense vegetation of the jungle versus the barren, vertical landscape of the mountains (photos by Jigmet Dadul) |
However, some of the villagers did venture upward and northward.
In his youth, the elderly hunter above, and his peers, would make the trek high
up into the mountains to hunt for meat, likely in the form of ungulates like
blue sheep, takin and goral. His answer was in response to our questioning
about whether he, or anyone he knew, had ever seen a snow leopard. This is why
we came, to seek out indigenous knowledge and use it to help find out for ourselves,
do snow leopards inhabit Myanmar?
On May 21st, four days after departing
Dahawndum, and following an acrobatic bushwhack up and down dangerous jungle slopes,
we set our first base camp at around 3500 meters (11,500 ft.). Gazing up at the
cloud enshrouded peaks and ridgelines that started at 4500 m (14,800 ft.) and extended above 5500 m (18,000 ft.), we
recognized one immediate challenge; an incredible amount of snow had persisted
through the warm spring. While nights in camp would see
temperatures near freezing, day time highs, when the sun showed itself,
exceeded 15° C (60° F). Yet, the extensive winter snowfall defied full
spring melt-off, not only higher up but also in the valley bottoms, where large snow fields
smothered much of the terrain.
The deep, wet snow provided not only a physical
challenge, but also an impediment to our typical snow leopard survey
techniques. When looking for snow leopards in a previously undocumented region one of the first places we look for sign is in the flat areas at the base of
cliffs, a geographic feature targeted by snow leopards to spray, scrape and
defecate as scent marks within their home ranges. Because these marking sites
are often revisited, they make excellent locations for camera traps.
Unfortunately, deep snow filled in many of these target areas, not only for us
to investigate, but for snow leopards to use throughout the winter.
Considerable snow persisting into early summer impacts classic snow leopard survey sites such as the base of cliffs (photo on right by KC Namgyal) and boulders (video by Jigmet Dadul) |
A second target site for our camera traps is along ridgelines. Snow leopards frequently navigate their landscapes by following the narrow, rugged ridgelines. These provide appropriately narrow, linear features to target as detection sites for the cat, where rock cairns are often built to stage the camera. The deep snow precluded access to stones for building a cairn. Not only that, but as the snow melts any camera set on top of it would shift, likely fall and perhaps even be lost as it tumbled from the precariously steep ridgeline down the slopes below.
On the left, Jigmet Dadul hikes a ridge high above the valley floor. On the right, a classic ridge set for a camera trap (both photos by KC Namgyal) |
These challenges, on top of the inherent difficulty in navigating the landscape, meant that our team had to do significantly more reconnaissance and cover much greater distances on a daily basis than would be necessary with less snow. The team’s incredible effort and tenacity paid off, and we were able to place 80 camera traps in spots not only likely to detect snow leopards, but also many other animals navigating the terrain, including potential prey species.
Now, the ultimate question; after covering all of that
ground, did we find definitive sign of snow leopards? The quick answer is, no.
The follow up question, do we think snow leopards could be there? That answer
is a bit more nuanced.
Although this year appeared to exceed average snowfall,
it is likely that every year, during the winter months, deep snow levels eliminate
any vegetation that would support local ungulate populations. Without prey
there are no predators. However, there is an incredibly productive spring
green-up that was just getting underway during our visit. Fresh sign of blue
sheep, goral, takin and leaf deer was apparent, suggesting that as the snow
melts and new vegetation emerges, ungulates are moving back into the area. It
is highly probable that carnivores, including snow leopards, would track the
ungulate movements and follow them into our study area. These kinds of seasonal
shifts in animal distributions are not unknown.
Top photo, blue sheep pellets amidst the new spring green-up. Bottom photo, fresh ungulate tracks (bottom photo by Jigmet Dadul) |
Team enjoys lunch with a view as the clouds part for the first time in weeks. From left to right, KC Namgyal, myself, Asin and Jiang Su. |