I have made a lot of questionable decisions on my many visits to Pakistan, but have I finally taken it too far? Like, who hears about a trail literally known as the Death Track and decides that sounds like a fun way to spend the day? We even needed a private police escort for this one, so let that set the tone right from the start. My brain might be broken.

As short and sweet as it is relative to what lies beyond the tunnel, the Thagas Death Track is one of those hikes that earns its reputation. You’ll be feeling like Eminem in 8 Mile. Knees weak, palms sweaty, biryani on your shalwar kameez already. Baltistan’s Death Track (Sarfa Lam, locally) is not the longest trail and it’s far from technically demanding. But the combination of the exposure, the history baked into the cliff face, and the sheer improbability of the whole thing makes it stick in your memory in a way that a lot of more “famous” hikes don’t.

This is one of the most overlooked corners of an already-overlooked destination. Let’s walk into Mordor, y’all. Here is everything to know before taking on the Thagas Death Track.

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Getting to Thagas from Khaplu

The Nangma Valley trek is what drew us into this region, the Ghanche district, in the first place. We based ourselves in the historically Tibetan town of Khaplu, staying at the Alpine Resort and using it as a kick-off point for our adventures in the area. It wasn’t until we were already here that we found out about the Death Track. I had seen a few viral videos of this trail, but did not realize it was so close to us. Well, relatively speaking. Even a 20-mile drive in Pakistan can warrant all sort of mishap and misadventure.

Outside of some scattered guesthouses, there are few places to stay in Ghanche outside of Khaplu. If you plan on taking on the Thagas Death Track, plan on basing yourself in the town of Khaplu. Thagas is about an hour and fifteen minutes from Khaplu by road, though you should budget more time than that for the drive. The road winds through dramatic mountain scenery and there are legitimate reasons to stop. Multiple times.

If you are traveling through this part of Pakistan, you likely already have physical copies of your visa and passport. Print out a few more just in case. There are some checkpoints along the way, one in Youchung and one in Haldi, if I remember correctly. Sometimes, they’ll just wave you past. Other times, you might be waiting for a while until a police escort arrives. It’s anyone’s guess.

Stops Worth Making on the Way

• Masherbrum Viewpoint: Keep your eyes peeled for clear views of Masherbrum (K1), one of the most striking and technically demanding 8,000-meter peaks in the Karakoram range. There is a dedicated viewpoint here, but the views along the drive are stunning already, so it doesn’t warrant a full stop. At 7,821 meters it doesn’t quite crack the 8K list but its dramatic pyramid profile makes it one of the most photogenic in the region.
• Saling: A small village en route worth a brief stop. A passenger we shared a car with, Hatam, happened to be a seasoned K2 Base Camp guide and lives in Saling. He invited us to his home for lunch and took us around the village. There are some beautiful lakes and fish farms. If the road conditions and bridges are good, you can drive via Saling and shave off some time from your drive.
• Haldi Cones: One of those geological oddities that Pakistan seems to produce casually, as if it’s no big deal. These distinctive cone-shaped formations along the route are worth a few minutes and a few photos.

Note that bridge conditions in this area can change seasonally, and at least one bridge on the route may add detour time depending on when you’re traveling. Ask locally before you go.

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Practical Tips for the Thagas Death Track

Here are a few things to know before setting off on the Thagas Death Track. Honestly, it all feels pretty straightforward, but admittedly, I’ve become very accustomed to the unexpected nature of travel in Pakistan over my half-dozen visits. Police escort? Army checkpoints? Landslide-ridden roads and rickety wooden bridges? I hardly bat an eye these days, but for a newcomer to the region, the little bits of chaos and confusion can add up.

The Police Escort

When we visited in July 2026, we were joined by a police escort. Apparently, it was mandatory for American and Chinese tourists, although whether it is actually enforced is anyone’s call. At the checkpoint to enter Ghanche district, our car was made to wait because we apparently needed to wait for a police escort to drive us the rest of the way. After about 20 minutes of waiting, one of the guys in the car — a renowned trekking guide — kicked up enough of a fuss that they just let us go.

The next day, a police officer joined us for our road trip around Khaplu and Saling. And then the next day, the Thagas Death Track day, a different officer met up with us in the village of Haldi just before Thagas. We didn’t have to make any advance arrangements or worry about anything. Admittedly, it can be a bit strange having an armed guard with you at all times, but they blended into the background pretty well. It was our guard’s first time doing the Death Track as well, so I’m sure his day was more exciting than a usual day on the job.

Anyway, don’t sweat it. If you get one, you get one. If not, then ya don’t. Supposedly the situation has to do with the U.S. conflict with Iran. Anti-American protests have understandably popped up in neighboring Pakistan, and for our safety, we were given a guard. Neither I nor my girlfriend have ever felt unsafe in Northern Pakistan, so it’s more of a formality than anything. Khaplu and the Ghanche district are home to among the kindest and most welcoming people I’ve ever met. Don’t let the need for an armed security guard paint an illusion of the contrary.

Sorting Out A Guide and Driver

Finding a guide was easy. Ask at your accommodation in Khaplu. It’s as simple as that. If you have your own vehicle, you can show up and go. The trail isn’t hard to find from Thagas village. Locals will point you in the right direction if you’re having a hard time finding it. Some will even offer to guide you for a small fee, which is worth considering if you don’t already have a Pakistani guide with you.

Our driver-guide was Gulam Abbas from North Green Tour. He speaks great English and doubles as a photographer. He also knows everyone in the region, so we constantly got invited to homes and schools. Pretty much all you could ask for.

He charged us 8,000 rupees to hire him and the car (including gas) for a full day of driving. Aside from the guide/driver fee, we didn’t have to pay anything upon reaching Thagas. The Sarfa Lam Death Track hike is completely free.

When To Visit and What To Bring

Like most adventures in Northern Pakistan, the best time to visit is between the months of May to October. Try to avoid mid-July to mid-August due to the monsoon season.

For the hike itself, plan on starting early. The climb is steep, unshaded, and hot. Beat the worst of the heat and get the clearest morning light on the mountains. It was the middle of July and we made the mistake of doing the hike in the midday heat. Try to leave Khaplu at around 6 or 7 AM if you want to avoid the Pakistani sun at its strongest.

Bring more water than you think you need. You can also fill up once you reach the canal if you have a water filter — the Sawyer Squeeze is my go-to. It may not be a long hike but with the relentless incline and punishing heat, you will be sweating a ton. Sunscreen is a must.

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The Hike: What to Expect on the Thagas Death Track

Arriving in Thagas

About two hours after departing from Khaplu, we arrived in the small village of Thagas. It was also our driver’s first time doing the trek, so we had to ask around a bit to figure out where the trail started. A local woman also offered to guide us up there for a fee. However, the trail is pretty straightforward. Just park up by the mosque — which clearly has remnants of Buddhist and Tibetan influence — and follow the trail up.

The Climb Up

There is no easing into it. The trail begins with about an hour of steep, completely unshaded ascent under the full weight of the Baltistan sun. This is the hotter part of Pakistan and the climb is punishing. It is not technical — don’t expect a scramble — but relentless in the heat. The terrain is manageable, but don’t let that lull you. This is not a casual stroll. We both already had our hiking legs under us by this point, so despite the heat, we managed fairly easily. However, far too often we run into unprepared hikers underestimating the challenge before them.

Bring water. More than you think you need. Bring more than that. A few snacks will also come in handy. You can pick some up at a tuck shop in Thagas or bring some of your own. We found a large rock about 40 minutes up the trail that we used for shade while we sipped on juice boxes and crackers.

After roughly an hour of climbing, you’ll start to hear it before you see it: the sound of water running along a channel carved directly into the cliff face. Upon turning the corner, the mountain-scapes reveal all their majesty. This is what you came for.

The Sarfa Lam Death Track

Boromir was wrong. As it turns out, one can simply walk into Mordor. In contrast to the lush, green villages of Ghanche feeling like the Shire, the Thagas Death Track is more reminiscent of the last stand against Sauron at the Black Gate. The inhospitable mountains are dry, desolate, and seemingly devoid of life. The spires are cartoonishly pointy. It definitely looks like somewhere a dragon or supervillain would turn into their secluded lair.

The trail is treacherous. The deeper you go along the water channel, the more narrow and unkept it becomes. It’s a marvel in every sense of the word. It was built entirely by hand — no machinery, no heavy equipment — to bring glacial meltwater down from the mountains above and into the village of Thagas far below. It runs for dozens of kilometers. It is an architectural wonder that gets far too little praise. The men who built it carved the channel into the sheer cliff face, section by section, some of them not surviving the process.

When you’re standing on a narrow ledge hundreds of meters above the valley floor, the drop yawning open below you, it’s hard to process. Knowing that people cut this path with their hands — without ropes or safety equipment — so that their village could survive might be one of the most extraordinary things I’ve personally witnessed. It gets almost no international attention.

The canal trail itself is stunning. Jagged stone spires overhead, cliff walls that look like they’ve been painted by someone who had too much confidence and a full palette. And then the edge, always present, always reminding you to watch where you put your feet.

At its narrowest, the path is only a few inches wide. There are no ropes. No chains. No guardrails. Nothing to grab onto. Just you, the cliff face on one side, and a sheer drop on the other. Even the slightest lapse in focus could be fatal. This trail is not for everyone, and there’s no shame in acknowledging that. Feel free to turn around as soon as it feels like it’s getting too much to handle.

The Tunnel Turnaround

About thirty minutes into the canal section, you’ll reach a tunnel cut into the rock. This is where most tourists turn around, and it’s a reasonable place to do so. The trail continues well beyond this point and eventually reaches a high mountain meadow — but that’s a full-day commitment. It warrants camping gear and many more supplies than we had with us at the time. I can’t find much online about where the trail eventually leads, so it might truly be unchartered territory for non-locals.

If you’re day-hiking from Khaplu, the tunnel is your natural endpoint. Take your time here, eat something, drink water, and take in the view before heading back down.

The Descent

Going down is quick and straightforward compared to the climb. The trail retraces itself and what felt like a grind on the way up passes easily on the way back. Don’t get too comfortable, though. The terrain can be much trickier going down. Allot about twenty minutes for the journey down.

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The Hospitality That Bookends Every Pakistan Adventure

No adventure in Pakistan ends without someone inviting you in, and this was no exception. After the hike, we were welcomed into a home in Ghursay — which also happens to be the home village of Shiraz, a well-known Pakistani YouTuber. I had never heard of him, but looked him up after how proudly everyone spoke of him, and actually enjoyed his channel for how authentically he showcases life in his small Baltistani village.

Like most villages in Pakistan, guests were welcomed wholeheartedly. We were taken into their living room and treated to exactly the kind of spread that makes you feel like a terrible guest for accepting but a terrible guest for refusing: heaping portions of tea, bread, fresh fruits, and nuts, and a plate of apricots the size of a challenge. It was far too much food than we needed, but we kept forcing as much as we could down to show our appreciation. The kind grandmother of the house sent us off with plastic bags overflowing with nuts, a welcome ration before heading out on the Nangma Valley trek the following day. I couldn’t help thinking how this bag of walnuts, almonds, and apricot nuts would run me around $50 at an American grocery store.

This keeps happening to us in Pakistan, across every region, at every turn. Almost every traveler will tell you the same. The warmth is not performative and it is not for the camera. It’s just how things work here. Thank you to the family in Ghursay. Thank you, always, Pakistan.

The Drive Back: One More Reason to Stay in Baltistan

We headed back to Khaplu, stopping a half hour later at an unassuming spot in time for a desert sunset, and if that sounds like a contradiction in a region known for glaciers and 8,000-meter peaks — it isn’t. Baltistan has it all. Dramatic mountains, thundering rivers, endless apricot orchards, snow-capped summits, and as the light dropped over the valley, a surreal desert landscape that looked nothing like the glacial world we’d been in hours earlier.

Pakistan continues to produce landscapes that feel impossible. Baltistan might be the densest single region for that.

What a way to cap off the day, huh?

More on Pakistan

• Khaplu: The Hidden Gem of Baltistan
• Complete Guide to the Nangma Valley Trek