The Magical Lingzhi Dzong

For the past three decades since I first saw a photograph of Bhutan’s remotest Dzong, its mystic and allure remained unabated in my heart. To me, Lingzhi Dzong was something out of a fable - mysterious, unattainable, hidden somewhere in the cradle of the insurmountable mighty Himalayas.

But early this month, I had the opportunity to sift through myth and fantasy and experience the real deal. I finally made it to Lingzhi! In two days, I photographed the Dzong and the surrounding areas like a man possessed. I climbed all the surrounding ridges so that I can photograph the Dzong from all sides and angles. Like I said to my camera assistant while returning from an early jaunt, if the Dzong were wearing a panty, I have photographed it with its panty down.

Built on a hillock that rises steeply out of the centre of the narrow valley, the Dzong is flanked on two sides by the villages of Zombuthang and Misayue. To the North-West of the Dzong rises the twin peaks of Jichu Drake and Tserim Gung. Viewed from Lingzhi, it is as if Jichu Drake had morphed into something else - it looses its conical shape and assumes a form that looks more like Mount Fujiyama of Japan.

The Dzong’s design is unique in that it does not look anything like other Dzongs around the country. It is obvious that the Dzong is constantly battered by strong winds - the Dzong’s torn and tattered roof bear testimony to it. A substantial number of the roof’s wooden shingles at the fringes seems to have gone missing, making the Dzong’s roof look ragged and unkept. But the Dzong still looks majestic and imposing against the backdrop of the alpine barrenness that surrounds it. Framed against the distant snow-capped mountains and the cascading Himalayan ranges that envelope it, the image is breath-taking and makes for a captivating photographic subject of mythical proportions.

Lingzhi is beyond Shangri-La - it is pure heaven. Those who seek to experience pure wilderness in its wildest form should visit Lingzhi. No other place in Bhutan can match it. The experience starts from the time you enter Jangothang (Jumolhari Base camp) and traverse the terrifying Ngele-La Pass. The beautiful Jichu Drake looms large on your left and keeps you company all the way to Lingzhi. The vast, treeless alpine meadows are crisscrossed with rivers of ice that sparkle and shine in the morning sun. As you climb higher, curiously gazing groups of Blue Sheep that number close to a hundred graze on the mountain sides.

No where else was I so completely boxed in by plunging precipices and enormous mountains that looked like they were going to crush me to death any minute - and yet, gave me a feeling of space, freedom and a sense of goodliness and contentment - as did the isolated but magical valley of Lingzhi.

For those of you who may never make it to Lingzhi in this life time, I post the following two photos so that you too may feel the magic. Over time, if I have the time, I will try and post some more - but I leave for Laya on the 17^th so it is unlikely.

If ever someone should ask me if there is something that I want to do before I die, my answer would be: I want to go back to Lingzhi once again.