<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109101120/636b712a9c7e80680e0600b9jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1109"/><figcaption>Photos: Arun S Rana</figcaption></figure>Few Nepalis know where Kamchatka is, and the ones who do probably heard about it from the board game ‘Risk’, where it is described as the remote region between Asia and North America.Kamchatka Krai, as it is known in Russia, is a land of active volcanoes and hundreds of thousands of pristine rivers that flow down to the Sea of Okhotsk. It teems with brown bears, salmon and trout.For a group of eight Nepalis brought together by their passion for fishing, this was paradise. In the past, they had explored Himalayan rivers in Nepal and India in <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=18700#.XileCP4zbIU" target="_blank" rel="noopener">pursuit of the iconic golden mahseer</a>. But overfishing, habitat loss and failures of conservation have led to massive depletion of this magnificent fish.Taking a roundabout route via Muscat and Moscow, the Nepali fishermen landed in Petropavlovsk-Kamchatsky Airport 43 hours after leaving Kathmandu.  Our guides for the trip, Andrey, Victor and Serge, and our cook Tanya, met us at the airport, and took us to a store to buy supplies – including a stock of vodka, an essential in Russia for warding off the cold.Read also: <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=18700#.XileCP4zbIU" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Quest for gold</a>, Arun RanaWe had all bought waders in the hopes of fly fishing, but these were more useful as wind breakers. Despite the thick thermals we wore under them, we found it too cold to stand in the water of the Bystraya River for more than 15 minutes at a time. Meanwhile, the macho Russians bathed in the frigid water and walked around in t-shirts.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LMKiJOJXClI&amp;feature=youtu.beThere are six species of Pacific salmon, and all of them swim in the waters of Kamchatka. From June to October, different species run up the rivers at different times to spawn. Unlike our golden mahseer which also migrate upriver to spawn but return to the depths of our big rivers every year, a salmon spends its early life in the river and then enters the ocean where it grows into an adult. After two to five years, the salmon swims back up the river to the exact spot where it was born, to spawn and then die.The indigenous people of this region revere the salmon as a deity. Brown bears gorge on salmon and store the energy thus gained to sustain them through their winter hibernation. Rainbow trout, char and grayling feed on salmon eggs and decaying salmon flesh. What the bears and other fish do not consume decays and provides nutrition for the vegetation along the rivers.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/the-wellbeing-of-the-wilderness/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">The wellbeing of the wilderness</a>, Mikel DunhamWhen we stepped into the Bystraya in mid-September, the last of the sockeye salmon were bright red and exhausted. Big silver spinners shimmering in the water imitated trout, and even as they gasped for life, the dying sockeyes bravely fought off predators to protect their eggs.The sight of thousands of juvenile salmon leaping joyously into the air was comforting. We slept well knowing that the sockeye had done their duty, and that millions of salmon would be swimming into the Sea of Okhotsk this year as they have for countless years.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109101120/636b712d9c7e80680e0600bajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1109">Salmon undergo a drastic metamorphosis when they enter freshwater rivers from the ocean. Their bodies contort into humps and they develop beaks and gnarly teeth. Fish that are bright silver in the ocean turn red and green in the river, and are considered inedible. Only the silver salmon are eaten.On the first two days we could not hook a rainbow trout, until we discovered that they were taking pink flies. Up to 15 rainbow trout were then hooked before lunch, including a monster 24-incher that weighed 4.5 kg.Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/dams-and-dreams-a-journey-down-the-karnali/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Dams and dreams a journey down the Karnali</a>, Ramesh BhushalAs we ventured into the Kamchatka wilderness, autumn had coloured the forest in yellow and red, interspersed with green. Every living thing was stocking up for winter. A dozen brown bears were fat from their salmon diet, and human beings too were storing salmon, cleaning hundreds of fish and packing them in beds of salt to preserve them through the winter. It is impossible not to develop a deep reverence for the salmon, and we all hoped that sustainable angling would win over commercial greed.Every evening we stopped rafting around five o’clock, and set up camp for the night. Our three guides used chainsaws to quickly cut logs for the fire, and before long Tanya had two pots on them, one for coffee and the other for borsht. Inside the dining-kitchen tent, she got on with other dishes – some of the tastiest meals we had ever eaten.Read also: <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/rafting-in-the-wild-west,3041" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Rivers of Nepal’s Wild West</a>, Yu Wei Liew<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109101120/636b71309c7e80680e0600bbjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="480"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109101120/636b71339c7e80680e0600bcjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="480"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109101120/636b71369c7e80680e0600bdjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="427"><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221109101120/636b71399c7e80680e0600bejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="427">Fresh caviar, straight out of the salmon gut, washed and lightly salted; fried salmon steak; baked rainbow trout; grayling sashimi; pumpernickel bread; pancakes and an assortment of chocolates for dessert. Generous shots of vodka, of course, to wash it all down. The organisation of the trip was meticulous and exemplary.We landed more than a hundred fish in five days, and learned that fish see in colour -- how else do you explain the trout’s preference for pink flies?  We learned that despite their rough exterior, Russians are mild-mannered, honest, hard-working people who look after their guests well.It is heartening to know that there are still a few magical, untouched places on this planet where human beings and nature coexist.  For us Nepalis, there was a parting wish that we could keep just one river in our own country flowing free and clean, and that we might set it aside to save the mighty golden masheer.Read also: <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=18383#.XilfcP4zbIU" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Save our rivers from ourselves</a>, Megh AleArun S Rana is a fishing enthusiastshaivax@gmail.com

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Nepalis go salmon fishing in Kamchatka

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108101132/636a22999c7e80680e041799jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1125"/><figcaption>Dusky dolphins skimming past our boat in the turquoise waters off Kaikoura peninsula.</figcaption></figure>“Keep your eyes down once you are in the sea, remember the dolphins are in the water not in the air.” We nod mutely through our masks. “And keep singing in order to attract them – dolphins are playful and inquisitive, but no touching.”I am encased in a clinging black wet suit from head to toe including a dark hood that makes it hard to hear, as close as I’m likely come to looking like one of them. The boat is expertly positioned beside a pod of dusky dolphins and at the given signal we take a deep breath and clamber off the stern into the South Pacific ocean.The sun has crept up over the hazy horizon and the clouds over the distant mountain shoreline are threatening a summer shower. The shock of the cold is eclipsed by the surprise of finding myself amidst hundreds of sleek dolphins keen to frolic. These wondrous creatures circle and speed beneath me in lithe groups of two and three, streamlined black and white, passing close, and dazzling in their wild curiosity.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108101132/636a229d9c7e80680e04179ajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1131"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>They leap, they spiral, they somersault, and if I lift my masked face I can see the dorsal fin above the translucent water but also the elegant pied curve normally hidden beneath the waves. Singing tunelessly into my snorkel as instructed, my voice falters and my stomach heaves with emotion, profound immersion in a primeval universe, eye contact with a wild dusky dolphin in the open ocean.<a style="background-color: #ffffff; font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0.01em;" href="https://www.kaikoura.co.nz/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">New Zealand’s Kaikoura Peninsula</a> suffered a massive tectonic upheaval during the 7.8 earthquake in 2016 that ricocheted up the fractures of the South Island’s northeast, changing the coastal contours and up-thrusting the seabed by as much as two meters. Harbours, jetties, hotels, homes, roads and railways were displaced and damaged, and the reconstruction continues.The deep ocean trenches and submarine canyons lying off Kaikoura create uniquely sheltered and plankton-rich conditions that attract a wealth of resident and migrant sea life, notably congregations of southern hemisphere dolphins and several species of whales. Colonies of seals honk on the kelp-encrusted rocks, and a variety of albatross, those haunting seabirds with the world’s widest wingspan, skim and wheel close to shore.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108101132/636a229f9c7e80680e04179bjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1125"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure><a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/So-far-so-good/the-hippie-era-in-kathmandu,837" target="_blank" rel="noopener">After a career showing tourists the mega-fauna of the Nepal </a>Himalaya and grappling with <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/image/Modi-is-back,1005" target="_blank" rel="noopener">wildlife conservation</a> concerns, I was interested to see the whale watching business that had transformed the sleepy village of Kaikoura and enriched its Maori owners. With almost-guaranteed sightings throughout the year, marine mammal viewing concessions at Kaikoura had long been cited by my Kiwi colleagues as one of the best examples of tourism and conservation – a serious local business but strictly controlled to protect the marine environment.The Kaikoura experience is so well established as a cornerstone of New Zealand tourism that after the earthquake, rather than miss the whales, dolphin, seal and albatross encounters on offer, visitors took long detours inland through rural farmland and across mountain passes until the coastal roads reopened.Taking a break from <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/So-far-so-good/bardiya-beginnings-Lisa-Choegyal,1085" target="_blank" rel="noopener">tigers</a> and <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/regular-columns/So-far-so-good/call-of-the-wild-lisa-choegyal,879" target="_blank" rel="noopener">rhinos</a>, I’ve always been fascinated by the freedom of marine mammals and the privilege of glimpsing them in their boundless natural habitat. Researching the Philippines ecotourism strategy, villagers showed us five different species of small whales and dolphin in one afternoon.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108101132/636a22a39c7e80680e04179cjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1024" height="768"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>I have had semi-habituated dolphins darting between my legs whilst paddling in a remote Western Australian resort, and swum with sharks and stingrays in a Tahitian lagoon. The opportunities of whale shark tourism, those gentle filter-feeding leviathans and the planet’s largest fish, has turned fishing folk into conservationists throughout their range.I have spotted the huge bulk of a blue whale with a baby, the largest animal in existence, cruising just beneath the waves on her annual journey south to Antarctica. My most memorable moment was snorkelling with a young humpback in Tonga, in a deep bay off Vava’u where whales rest briefly during their annual migration - I was working on a South Pacific marketing plan. But that was all before the rapture of my hour with the Kaikoura dolphins.It is Christmas, the height of summer in New Zealand, but I feel miles away from holly, tinsel, decorated trees and the other trappings of our traditional celebrations. Christmas and summer are a strange coagulation for those of us used to the winter solstice and pagan traditions adapted to relieve the long, dark, cold months of the north.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221108101132/636a22a59c7e80680e04179djpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1125"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>I am still in a dolphin daze as we drive back past sunny roadside stands selling fresh crayfish. In the Marlborough valley delicate green tendrils of new vines brush our faces as we stroll the regimental lines of a vineyard, our bare feet enjoying the dawn dew of the mowed grass. Birdcalls fill the morning air, fantails fuss amongst the green borders, tuis streak through the flowering flax, and the promise of impervious sun drenches the coming day. Flying across Cook Strait, a shaft of light catches the white car ferry ploughing through the choppy furrows of the indigo sea, blotched navy by cloud reflections.“They really don’t know how to do Christmas properly here at all.” My originally Irish cousin Sal and I stand thigh deep in the turquoise shades of the South Pacific, the sky an aching blue, our skin zinging with salt. It is early in the New Year and New Zealand summer is in full swing.A neighbour entertains himself by painting a red sign for a makeshift driftwood bar on the empty beach, someone brings a tray of cool sparkling Kiwi wine to christen it, and our feet burn on the hot sand. Sal smiles: “But you get used to it.”

Lisa Choegyal

New Year in a New Zealand summer

This is the first instalment in a new limited series in Nepali Times on the historic transportation infrastructures of Nepal. Nepal’s Forest Railways As<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/india-s-border-trains-that-connected-nepal"> India’s railway network </a>expanded in the 1890s and 1900s, the demand for wooden railway sleepers, called ‘ties’ in America, likewise increased. The <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/the-rana-reign-a-recap-of-history,3751">Rana regime</a> realised that western Nepal’s dense forests, from which sal trees could be extracted and sold, represented a valuable source of revenue. There was a problem of accessing large tracts of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-tarai-s-shrinking-forests">Tarai forests</a>. However, once Indian railway lines are extended to Nepal’s border in several places, this issue could be resolved by constructing logging railways, also known as ‘tramways’ or ‘light railways’. The Nepal Government awarded a contract to Punjabi timber contractors to supply 15,000 sal sleepers to Chandan Chauki station of India’s Oudh &amp; Rohilkhand State Railway in 1908. The contractors also received a concession to construct a steam tramway to run 48km into <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/reviving-nepals-community-forestry-success-story">Nepal’s forests</a> for cutting and transporting trees. The author found no records, however, indicating that such an ambitious tramway was built in 1908. The hewn logs were probably carried into India by bullock carts or <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/elephants-become-white-elephants">elephants</a>. The earliest known forest railway in Nepal was built in 1914 in the southwestern corner of the present-day Parsa district. A British engineer went to the Indian border town of Bikna Thori to plan a 4-mile portable light railway for the transport of timber from <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/on-the-tri-junction-of-wildlife-conservation-conflict-and-co-existence">the forest of Chitwan </a>to the Thori depot on the Bengal &amp; Northwestern Railway. This short line was laid upon wooden sleepers, and its rails could be taken up and repositioned when logging in one section of the forest was completed. This forest railway was in operation at least through 1917.&nbsp; A few year down the line in 1923, J V Collier of the Indian Forest Service built a narrow-gauge railway in Kailali district also to export of timber to India. This line, the Nepal Government Forest Railway, departed Chandan Chauki in Uttar Pradesh and ran 48km northwest into Nepal.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250824150820_84ddef57433c2f847b2c7e56c2d9c924084b6e6a504bbca905d2c593fac8eabd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20250824150820_84ddef57433c2f847b2c7e56c2d9c924084b6e6a504bbca905d2c593fac8eabd" data-rendition-name="original" width="1130" height="689" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal's little railways"> <figcaption>A Nepal Government Forest train in Kailali District hauling sal sleepers in 1925. Photo: DAVID CHURCHILL </figcaption> </figure>  It was a 2-foot railway supported by 11kg rails. The line was ‘temporary’ in that as sal trees were thinned out in one area, railway tracks were shifted to uncut areas of the forest. The railway crossed seven small <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/saving-what-is-left-of-himalayan-rivers">rivers</a>, but the bridges were taken down during the summer and monsoon. Trains ran only from November to April. This forest railway purchased four 4-6-0T ‘tank’ engines built in Leeds, England. Each bogie could carry 100 broad-gauge sleepers, and two engines were needed to haul a 21-car train loaded with 2,100 sleepers. This huge commercial forest operation once employed about 14,000 men, most of them Indians. During one season, nearly 800,000 broad and metre-gauge sleepers were exported to India. When India suffered a depression in 1930, large scale operations came to an end. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/rust-in-peace?fbclid=IwAR1_eg88TCOS6RGRW1af7WvaWx5mzh_rY8-vT1MnJxSs41QtCpaA988oXk8">Rust in peace</a>, Daniel W Edwards  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250824150828_13a0b894b9ea0c478904d358028f0c976d84f284432ee25106787366598d38e5.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20250824150828_13a0b894b9ea0c478904d358028f0c976d84f284432ee25106787366598d38e5" data-rendition-name="original" width="6000" height="4000" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal's railways"> <figcaption>Rails extended north from this spot into the virgin sal forests of Bardia in western Nepal 100 years ago.  DANIEL W EDWARDS</figcaption> </figure>  A third railway was built in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-big-bulls-of-bardia">Bardia </a>where some scattered rails and signs of an old roadbed were seen in the 1960s. It ran from Nishangada in India to Khairbhatti in Nepal. From there, stations heading south were Ranipur, Karmak, Taratal and Madhuwan. Collier likely <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-train-project-struggles-to-stay-on-track">built this railway </a>as well in the 1920s. An elderly man in Bardia in 2022, whose father had worked on this forest railway, was interviewed for this account. Kathmandu Valley’s Motor (Trolley) Railway Merchants importing goods from India via the<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/business/ropeways-connecting-nepal,1749"> ropeway</a> Chandra Shamsher built in 1927 had to go to the ropeway’s terminus at Matatirtha near Thankot to claim their goods and then haul them 6km to the customs house Bhansar Adda at Teku for clearance and payment of customs duties. The Motor Railway was built to carry goods from the<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=16839"> ropeway station </a>directly to the customs office, making it cheaper and more convenient for merchants to receive their shipments. In December 1931, Prime Minister Bhim Shamsher issued an order (sanad) putting Lt Gen Singha Shamsher Rana in charge of building this rail line to Teku and on to ‘Nabalak Khana’ in Tripureswar, a distance of 10km. The project was subdivided into four sections or ‘phant’, and for each, budgets and timelines were established. There was bato phant (constructing the roadbed), lik sleeper and jordne phant (laying sleepers and joining the rails), culvert phant (installing culverts) and pul phant (building bridges). Colonel Kishore Narsingh Rana was put in charge of the sleeper and rail section, while Colonel Dilli Jung Thapa, an engineer at Ghar Kaj Adda, also was involved. The Motor Railway was completed by the end of 1933. In the beginning, the railway’s small wagons may have been pulled and pushed by men and bullocks. However, in 1938 a British railway manufacturer sent Nepal a four-wheel, 5½ ton, 2-foot narrow-gauge diesel-powered locomotive with mechanical transmission, hence the name motor railway. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/latest/nepal-railways-janakpur-test-drive?fb_comment_id=3554227181262227_4263866616964943">Nepal Railways Janakpur test drive</a> Leaving Matatirtha, the trains passed Satungal, Naikap, the Bishnudevi Temple, crossed an iron bridge over Balkhu Khola, then to Ghattepakha, Sunagau, through what is now a section of Kuleshwor (‘Lik Marg’) to the Customs Office at Teku.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250825020852_033f0cee9775d7dadde7811132f84da876f614c386e3677e560ba7aed79909d9.jpg" data-media-id="editor_15" data-image-id="20250825020852_033f0cee9775d7dadde7811132f84da876f614c386e3677e560ba7aed79909d9" data-rendition-name="original" width="2000" height="1333" loading="lazy" alt="railways in Nepal"> <figcaption>Lik Marg in Kuleswor, the former route of the Motor Trolley Railway. Photo: DANIEL W EDWARDS</figcaption> </figure>  In 1945, Motor Trolley had four engines, but spare parts was badly needed. The charge for transporting one maund (about 40kg) of cargo from Matatirtha to Teku was 50 paisa. Even though the trains ran slowly and only for a short distance, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/fatalism-and-fatalities">accidents were not unknown</a>. A train loaded with rice, salt and cotton derailed on a curve in July 1946, and two railway employees were crushed under the cars and killed, five others were injured. Besides the driver and a brakeman, guards rode the trains to prevent theft of goods.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250824150836_63a327d4db3b067a23dd5c6cf17a31ffe811ffd4a8429bc31011d62298a90060.jpg" data-media-id="editor_17" data-image-id="20250824150836_63a327d4db3b067a23dd5c6cf17a31ffe811ffd4a8429bc31011d62298a90060" data-rendition-name="original" width="6000" height="4000" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal's railways"> <figcaption>The author by the remains of the Balkhu Khola bridge built in 1932 with American steel. Photo: JEEVAN NEPAL</figcaption> </figure>  By 1953, government budget estimates indicated the Motor Railway would break even with an income of Rs70,000 against Rs71,000 in expenditure. It appears the railway stopped service around 1957 with the opening of the Raj Path and the extension of the ropeway from Matatirtha to Bhansar Adda. Bent steel beams of the bridge across Balkhu Khola and two plaques recovered from the river a few years ago are the only remains of this railway today. Photos of the Motor Trolley Railway in operation are hard to come by.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250825020848_3a7cd17d0ffc36bbf5fdad404f5f6e91c7aa0e4f4ed729ed2c7e9c186f32ca9b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_18" data-image-id="20250825020848_3a7cd17d0ffc36bbf5fdad404f5f6e91c7aa0e4f4ed729ed2c7e9c186f32ca9b" data-rendition-name="original" width="5189" height="1979" loading="lazy" alt="railways in Nepal"> <figcaption>Steel plaque commemorating the construction of a Motor Trolley bridge across the Balkhu Khola. Photo: DANIEL W EDWARDS</figcaption> </figure>  The Kosi Project Railway (KPR) As early as 1941, India and Nepal considered building a dam on<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-kosi-s-sorrow-and-scope"> the Kosi River</a> to prevent destructive floods caused by <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/when-it-rains-it-pours-ksqprbu3">monsoon rains</a>. Floods in 1950 inundated 500 villages in Bihar and left 500,000 people homeless. The two governments signed an agreement in 1954 to build a barrage on the Kosi, and King Mahendra and Prime Minister Nehru laid the foundation stone in April 1959. To transport stones from a quarry near Dharan to use in mixing concrete at the construction site, the Indian government, in charge of building the barrage, made plans to build a narrow-gauge railway linking Bihar and its border town of Bhimnagar with Nepal’s settlements at Chakraghatti, Chatra and Ghopa, the outskirts of Dharan.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250824150816_fc5e13b01022c63c64f1e83589da0015eee7ecd002bdd3d97b88c98c1f3d45b7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_21" data-image-id="20250824150816_fc5e13b01022c63c64f1e83589da0015eee7ecd002bdd3d97b88c98c1f3d45b7" data-rendition-name="original" width="4011" height="2645" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal's railways"> <figcaption>Steel plaque commemorating the construction of a Motor Trolley bridge across the Balkhu Khola. Photo: DANIEL W EDWARDS</figcaption> </figure>  The section of the KPR in Nepal totaled 66km — the country’s longest railway to date. The stations south of Chakraghatti were Rajabas, Maduhuwan, Kushaha, Haripur and Bhantabari. The line built, operated and owned by the Indian Government, was opened in 1958 and known locally as Dhunge (stone) Rail. Procuring locomotives, wagons and other materials was a challenge. India’s Railway Board searched the country for old 41 lb rails, and located steam engines, most built around 1910, in poor condition, and stored in ‘retirement’. These decrepit locomotives were later cannibalised for parts to keep the remaining engines running, and six newer locomotives built in Yugoslavia were sent to the KPR in 1960 to prevent the railway from shutting down and halting construction of the barrage.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250824150832_fd644f9e2674c5047a531de5dfeb2c8860b0f93dddc7a2df3db867bf31b2c94b.bmp" data-media-id="editor_22" data-image-id="20250824150832_fd644f9e2674c5047a531de5dfeb2c8860b0f93dddc7a2df3db867bf31b2c94b" data-rendition-name="original" width="3171" height="2069" loading="lazy" alt="Nepal's railways"> <figcaption>KPR locomotives, water tank and staff at Chakraghatti in Nepal. Photo: JOHN BENSON</figcaption> </figure>  Used bogie-wagons (gondolas) came from <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/india-nepal-rail-diplomacy">Indian railways</a> that had been converted to metre-gauge, others were manufactured in Muzaffarpur without couplers due to the non-availability of steel. A hundred new wagons arrived from Japan, but only half could be put in service, as couplers from the other 50 were removed and attached to the Muzaffarpur wagons. This smorgasbord of equipment kept shop mechanics and work crews busy, but now-abandoned railways in Nepal always operated under less-than-ideal conditions. Although the purpose of the KPR was to transport gravel, stones and boulders to the site of the barrage, photographs show people riding in loaded wagons. Excluding Dharan, there was no bus service through the wild animal infested jungle between Dharan and Chakraghatti or along the dusty paths linking other small villages on the KPR, so patient locals sat in wagons at Dharan, waiting perhaps for hours for trains to depart.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250825020852_7d011dcc8e9b8cb0fe745b352486ebc4a84dac99419eadb35875333db20837c6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_24" data-image-id="20250825020852_7d011dcc8e9b8cb0fe745b352486ebc4a84dac99419eadb35875333db20837c6" data-rendition-name="original" width="3965" height="2659" loading="lazy" alt="railways in Nepal"> <figcaption>Ticketless riders on a train of gravel and stones in the forest between Dharan and Chakragatti in 1966. Photo: JOHN BENSON</figcaption> </figure>  Sons of former railway workers in Chakraghatti say that there were no fixed schedules, three or four trains ran both ways daily in the early 1960s. Southbound trains carried gravel, stones and boulders, while northbound trains would carry coal, cement and provisions, including sacks of coins to pay the workers. Trains even ran at night, and the crews worked long hours. Workers received free housing in project-built tenements but had to buy food supplies and items for personal use. The Babu Saheb or the superintendent lived at Chakraghatti, and at one time supervised more than 1,000 employees, nearly all of them from India. The barrage was completed in 1964, but by 1970, the Kosi Project Railway had passed into history. Daniel W Edwards was a Peace Corps volunteer in 1966 and is the author of several books on Nepal.

Nepal’s five little railways

· &nbsp;At least 400 people are dead or missing after heavy rainfall lashed arid regions of northwestern Pakistan. Walls of mud and boulders engulfed entire villages in Khyber Pakhtunkhwa Province. More than 700 people have been killed in floods in Pakistan since June.&nbsp; · &nbsp;Over in India’s Jammu and Kashmir at the same time, multiple slurry floods on 17-18 August killed more than 80 people · A mudslide possibly caused by a glacial collapse upstream in Uttarakhand on 5 August nearly wiped the village of Dharali off the map. At least 70 people, 23 of them Nepalis are dead or missing. · On the night of 8 July, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/rasuwa-flood-likely-a-glof">glacial lakes in Tibet overflowed</a>. By dawn the mudflow had demolished the Nepal-China border bridge killing at least 11 people, destroyed hydropower plants, swept away bridges, roads, over 100 cargo trucks and newly imported electric vehicles. All these disasters have a common thread: a cascade of hazards caused by record-breaking rainfall on fragile Himalayan slopes destabilised by melting glaciers and permafrost, seismicity and poorly engineered infrastructure. They are called ‘rain bombs’ — a heavy localised downpour measuring more than 100mm/h on a steep mountainside. As global warming heats the atmosphere, warmer air can hold more water vapour. The heavy rain then falls where there should be snowfall: on moraines and slopes that have lost the permafrost adhesive that held the debris together. “Increasingly, there is now more rainfall at higher altitudes where there used to be snowfall previously, and this directly impacts loose material in that fragile landscape which moves down,” explains Mohan B Chand, a Himalayan Glaciologist at Kathmandu University. “Moreover, the rains these days are heavy and fall within a few hours. So even a small burst has bigger impact.” The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/drones-to-the-rescue-in-melamchi">2021 Melamchi flood</a> and the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/sikkim-flood-is-warning-to-nepal">Sikkim disaster in 2023</a> have been attributed to record-breaking torrential rain on a glacial moraine that collapsed, unleashing a catastrophic debris flow.&nbsp; The Bhote Kosi flood this year happened even without torrential rain, and originated at rapidly expanding supraglacial lakes that overflowed, similar to what happened on the Mendenhall Galcier in Alaska last week. In Uttarakhand, the trigger could be in the upper catchment cryosphere, or a landslide dammed lake. Basanta Raj Adhikari of the Centre for Disaster Studies at the Institute of Engineering also calls them ‘sediment bombs’. He clarifies: “There is lots of sediment up there from landslides or glacial activity, and when there is heavy rainfall and hotter temperature, they are unleashed downstream. One thing is for sure, these extreme events are getting more frequent and more destructive.” Researcher Alton C Byers who has studied melting glaciers in the Himalaya and Andes names the eight most potentially dangerous glacial lakes in Nepal: Lower Barun, Chamlang North Tso, Chamlang South Tso, Dig Tso which burst in 1984, Lumding Tso, Thulagi, Tso Rolpa and Imja Tso (see map).  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250822030844_70b3bf6a1ad9b9f9481c9af860629b2a05ac1338a3b89a831506f1c6bdddf5ec.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250822030844_70b3bf6a1ad9b9f9481c9af860629b2a05ac1338a3b89a831506f1c6bdddf5ec" data-rendition-name="original" width="522" height="557" loading="lazy" alt="high risk glacial lakes in Nepal"> </figure>  Of these, Tso Rolpa and Imja have been lowered by 3m each, while Thulagi, Lower Barun, Lumding Tsho, and Hongu 2 glacial lakes have been targeted for lowering by the Department of Hydrology and Meteorology as part of the recent Green Climate Fund grant of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/meltpools-in-the-himalaya" target="_blank">$36.1 million awarded to Nepal</a>. “These lakes have changed over the years as their debris-covered glaciers continue to recede,” Byers told Nepali Times. “When water volume in the lake basin increases, they become more vulnerable to flood triggers such as overhanging ice as glaciers recede further to their headwalls, and permafrost on their moraines continues to melt.” <h2>These are not ‘natural disasters’</h2> Scientists have given the current planetary epoch a name: the Anthropocene. And anthropogenic causes in this era heighten the risk of disasters. Indeed, an analysis of recent Himalayan calamities (page 1) shows that there is much more at play here than climate breakdown. Haphazard encroachment of floodplains, quarrying and crusher activity exacerbated the effect of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/when-it-rains-it-pours-ksqprbu3">extreme rainfall on 28 September around Kathmandu Valley</a> that killed 200 people. The human cost of the 5 August catastrophe in Uttarakhand would have been high in any case, but the fact that the tiny village had expanded across a vulnerable alluvial fan to cater to a tourism boom meant more death and destruction. There are similar alluvial fans across Nepal, where small towns have expanded because new highways follow rivers, like Beni located at the confluence of the Myagdi Khola and Kali Gandaki. Other towns like Kagbeni or Damauli are located on the banks of rivers and tributaries that are directly downstream from rapidly expanding glacial lakes or unstable mountains. “In Butwal, people are building houses on the floodplain of the Tinau River, and yet people blame climate change or rainfall when there is a disaster,” says Basanta Raj Adhikari at the Institute of Engineering. “This is happening all over the country. Imagine the kind of devastation Beni would suffer if there was a big flood.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250822030848_ed411f8618c7a411ed4c165e91f3b880abb085a8a511405710dd8220f657da84.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20250822030848_ed411f8618c7a411ed4c165e91f3b880abb085a8a511405710dd8220f657da84" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="800" loading="lazy" alt="Beni Bazar"> <figcaption>RISKY CONFLUENCE: Beni has expanded rapidly after the highway to Mustang was built. But the town is situated on the alluvial fan of past flash floods on both the Kali Gandaki and Myagdi Khola which have dangerous glacial lakes in their upper catchment. Photo: BENI TOURISM</figcaption> </figure>  Traditionally, Nepal’s villages and settlements were located high above rivers because our forebears learnt lessons from recurring flash floods. Now, the road network follows rivers, and towns have sprung up along these highways. Even when roads are not on river banks, many gouge out slopes above, unleashing massive landslides that block rivers. Experts say Nepal’s hazard map should now be updated for glacial outbursts so municipalities can plan risk-sensitive land use zoning. This &nbsp;must go hand-in-hand with measures to reduce the risk by structural mitigation, such as engineering and construction, and then with risk awareness and early-warning systems. Says Himalayan researcher Alton C Byers: “Sooner or later, communities will realise that certain sites are simply no longer safe for a village or city, especially because of climate change in the mountains. The Himalaya has always been high-risk with its steep slopes, thin soil, monsoon rainfall regime, and frequent seismic activity. So, some places are no longer safe to live in.” Mohan B Chand of Kathmandu University adds that <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/climate-smarter-himalayan-infrastructure">hazard mapping is especially crucial for expensive hydropower plants</a>: “Most of these are on snow-fed rivers, but environmental risk assessment is not taken seriously.” He says that because Nepal is set to generate 28,500MW by 2035 to meet its carbon neutral target, the government must work to minimise upstream risk by integrating disaster mitigation components in new energy investments. Few know that Nepal’s first hazard mapping was done 40 years ago in the Khumbu with a United Nations University study titled ‘Highland Lowland Interactive Systems’. It is hard to find that document anywhere. Today, hazard mapping technologies, satellite remote sensing, drones, synthetic aperture radar (SAR) and modelling with AI have made it much easier to integrate multi-hazard risk assessment. That data needs to be made available to local governments so they can plan. Cell phones and new apps that monitor real-time glacial lake levels, live precipitation and hydrological data, and local weather forecasts can make early warning systems more effective. Recent disasters have shown that even the smallest of glacial lakes that are rarely considered in risk assessments can cause much damage. Langmale Lake in the Barun Valley was less than 0.1 km2 in size, but <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-mountains-are-melting" target="_blank">the flood in 2017</a> caused extensive downstream damage. The 2012 Seti flood in Pokhara, the Chamoli disaster in Uttarakhand in 2021, the South Lhonak proglacial lake burst in Sikkim in 2023 that washed away the $1.7 billion Chungthang Teesta III Project, and the August 2024 floods above Thame in Khumbu are other recent examples.&nbsp; Byers thinks some of these floods may have been initially triggered by massive rockfall or moraine collapse related to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/the-not-so-permanent-frost" target="_blank">melting permafrost</a>. The size of a glacial lake alone does not determine the severity of destruction. What makes all the difference is downstream development, and if there pre-warning. Dig Tso in Khumbu which burst in 1984, was much larger than the lake that caused the Bhote Kosi flood in July, but the economic cost to the country of the trans-boundary disaster this year was much higher. Says glaciologist Chand: “We have to monitor the lakes, not just via remote sensing but with field visits. These may be costly, but mitigating the risk is less expensive than the disasters themselves.” Nepal has the technology and trained personnel to do hazard mapping, monitoring, and to design early warning apps. That data and information now needs to be available to all three levels of government to improve preparedness and risk reduction. “The cascading and compounding hazards are increasing in the Himalaya, this must be the subject of our research now,” says Adhikari at the Centre for Disaster Studies. “Recent events are a wake-up call, if we do not take this seriously things may be more dangerous in future.”

Rain bombs

The cost of preserving Nepal’s past

Turkish Airlines is official airline partner for the second edition of the Vatsalya Everest Women’s Volleyball League (EWV). The league, scheduled for 5-13 September, will take place in Pokhara and feature 18 international players alongside elite Nepali volleyball talent. The agreement was signed by Turkish General Manager Serkan Başar, and EWV CEO Snevy Chapagain. “Turkish Airlines’ support ensures a seamless journey and adds immense prestige to the league’s goal of women’s empowerment through sports as well as the agenda of sports tourism,” said Chapagain. “We are thrilled to partner with Vatsalya Everest Women’s Volleyball League as the official airline. With this association, we aim to support women role models in sports. We believe this association will connect countries to Nepali volleyball,” remarked Basar.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250825030844_36df66612152abbea71f15579358a2bb0fe797f21cbe7e7c7f28e3fe91655ae4.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20250825030844_36df66612152abbea71f15579358a2bb0fe797f21cbe7e7c7f28e3fe91655ae4" data-rendition-name="original" width="1920" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Turkish"> </figure>

ocean

Nepalis go salmon fishing in Kamchatka

New Year in a New Zealand summer

Nepal’s five little railways

Rain bombs

The cost of preserving Nepal’s past

Turkish to sponsor women’s volleyball league