A striking image of an ice stupa—an artificial glacier towering above the barren landscape of Ladakh—has won first place in the 2024-25 Onewater Walk of Water: Water Towers photo contest, reports Shanna Hanbury. More than an aesthetic marvel, the stupa represents a pragmatic solution to a growing crisis: the dwindling availability of water in the high-altitude desert of northern India.
For centuries, Ladakh’s farmers have relied on glacial melt for irrigation. But with climate change accelerating glacial retreat, traditional water sources are proving unreliable. In response, villagers have begun constructing their own glaciers. Using pipes and valves, they direct winter water into towering conical structures, which freeze and store water until the critical sowing period in spring.
“Summers are crucial for villagers as the wheat, mustard, potato, and green peas we grow between April and July see us through the entire year,” says Tashi Angchuckk, a villager from Igoo. “To cultivate them, we need assured irrigation at the time of sowing.”
Ice stupas have proliferated across Ladakh in the past decade. The largest, Shara Phuktsey, stands 33.5 meters high and stores up to 7.5 million liters of water. But while effective, these structures are labor-intensive to build and maintain. If water freezes inside the pipelines, the entire system can fail.
Automation offers a solution. In 2024, a Leh-based company, Acres of Ice, deployed an automated ice reservoir (AIR) in Igoo at 4,200 meters above sea level.
“The automated ice reservoir has sensors on its pipeline with an attached control board that makes a decision, based on local weather conditions, to allow or stop the mechanized valves from letting the water flow through the system,” explains Suryanarayanan Balasubramanian, CEO of Acres of Ice.
Unlike traditional ice stupas, the automated system requires minimal human intervention and prevents pipe freezing by expelling water when temperatures drop too low.
“The automated ice stupa is a blessing for us,” says Angchuckk. “Otherwise, building and maintaining an ice stupa is a laborious process.”
Farmers in Igoo have already felt the benefits. “The new ice stupa allows me to water my field twice every day,” says Padma Yangdol, a local farmer. With only one cropping season per year, timely irrigation is essential.
The innovation builds on decades of work by Ladakh’s engineers and farmers. The concept of artificial glaciers was pioneered in the 1980s by civil engineer Chewang Norphel, known as the “Ice Man” of Ladakh. His team built cascade-type walls across streams to slow water flow, allowing it to freeze into glaciers that melted in spring. More recently, Ladakhi engineer Sonam Wangchuk popularized ice stupas—vertical towers of ice that last longer than traditional artificial glaciers.
Yet Wangchuk warns that such innovations, while valuable, are not a substitute for systemic change. In October 2024, he staged a hunger strike urging the Indian government to grant Ladakh constitutional protections against climate change and unchecked development. The region, he argues, needs more than adaptation; it needs long-term safeguards.
The success of ice stupas underscores the resilience of Ladakh’s communities. Rather than waiting for external solutions, they are engineering their own. Yet their efforts also raise a broader question: how long can local ingenuity compensate for the consequences of global inaction?
