Kashmir’s Last Untouched Valley

Far from the crowds of Gulmarg and Pahalgam, a rough mountain road leads to Margan and Choharnag—two forgotten jewels in Kashmir’s southern frontier. What I found there changed the way I see this land.

- Aadil Mohi-ud-din Malik

There's a moment on the way to Margan Valley when the noise of the world falls away. You climb above the treeline, above the last signs of habitation, and suddenly the horizon opens: bare, wild, and stunning.

The wind picks up. The road narrows into gravel and dust. And then, just as fatigue and doubt creep in, the valley appears, cupped like a secret between snow-draped peaks.

That moment stayed with me.

It was July, and the summer in southern Kashmir had settled into its golden phase. The fields in my hometown of Vailoo were lush, the walnut trees heavy with promise, and the air smelled faintly of ripening fruits.

I had planned the trip with a few close friends, seeking an escape from our routines and a return to the raw silence of nature.

Margan Valley is not a name most tourists know. Mention Gulmarg or Sonmarg, and heads nod in recognition. But speak of Margan, and even many locals pause.

It's a pass, a forgotten thoroughfare between the green valleys of Kokernag and the fabled meadows of Warwan and Marwah beyond.

In the past, it was known less for beauty and more for fear. Locals called it Wadi-e-Maut, the Valley of Death.

Before roads were built, it was infamous for avalanches, blizzards, and steep, unmarked tracks that offered no place to rest.

But as we made our ascent from Gawran, slowly and cautiously along the crumbling road, what we found was anything but deathly.

Margan is alive, achingly, powerfully alive. Thick forests of kail and deodar gave way to high-altitude meadows splashed with buttercups and blue poppies.