Riding Into The Copper Bowl

There are journeys you take, and then there are journeys that take you. For me, Zanskar has always been the latter

- By Amit Sadh

Each time I return, it feels less like I am choosing the mountains and more like they are choosing me.

The valley calls me back into its fold, into its embrace — reminding me that this place is not just geography, it is memory, silence, and song.

Zanskar is often called the Copper Bowl of Ladakh. The name comes alive in many ways: in the copper-toned landscapes that glow at dawn and dusk, in the valley's bowl-like shape held by snowbound peaks, in the ancient heritage of copper mining and craft, and in the copper prayer wheels and vessels that still gleam in its monasteries. Much like a Tibetan singing bowl, this copper bowl does not just hold—it resonates. Its vibration is felt in your bones, your breath, your spirit. It is not an echo of sound, but of being. To ride into this copper bowl is to ride into yourself — to discover balance, to rediscover harmony.

The Return

My bond with Zanskar goes back many years, long before I ever spoke about it publicly, long before the cameras of Motorcycles Saved My Life bore witness to my journey here. This land has been my refuge, my compass, my mirror. Each time I returned, it was not to conquer miles, but to seek something within myself.