For decades, the arrival of winter in Pakistan’s northern mountainous regions has been a reliable signal for communities to prepare for their seasonal traditions. Among these, the Karakoram WinterLude ice hockey tournament in Hunza Valley has stood out as a cherished event, bringing together locals and visitors alike. However, in recent years, the once predictable cold season has become erratic, with winters arriving later and temperatures fluctuating unpredictably. This shift has cast a shadow over the festival, which depends entirely on natural ice formation.
One vivid example of this change is visible at the home of Aleena Gul, a 21-year-old ice hockey captain and one of the pioneering women players in Hunza. For years, the swimming pool in front of her house would freeze solid each winter, transforming into a makeshift ice rink framed by the towering Himalayan peaks and the historic stone walls of Altit Fort. Aleena fondly recalls waking up at dawn, lacing her skates, and stepping directly onto the frozen surface. Yet, after returning from university following a four-year absence, she found the ice missing this season, leaving her and her teammates waiting anxiously for winter’s chill to set in.
“There’s a noticeable difference between 2018 and now,” Aleena remarked, highlighting how winters that once began in November and brought consistent freezing temperatures have shifted. Even by mid-January, the ice had yet to form properly, disrupting the rhythm of the sport and the community’s winter traditions. This experience is not isolated to Hunza alone; across the broader Hindu Kush–Himalayan region, scientists have documented a decline in extreme cold events and shorter snow seasons, phenomena locals describe as a “snow drought.” This term captures the growing frequency of winters when snowfall fails to accumulate and persist, undermining ecosystems and human activities that rely on consistent cold.
Data from WeatherWalay, a climate analytics platform, paints a stark picture of this transformation. Since the late 2010s, average winter precipitation in Hunza has dropped by approximately 30%, with four consecutive years registering below-normal levels. Additionally, winter temperatures have risen by 2 to 3 degrees Celsius in recent years, further reducing the likelihood of sustained snow and ice. Unlike many European ski resorts that mitigate such challenges with artificial snow-making technologies, Hunza’s ice hockey tournament remains entirely dependent on natural ice, making it vulnerable to these climatic shifts. This dependence poses a significant threat to the local economy, which benefits from winter tourism that extends beyond the traditional summer season.
The Altit pool has been the heart of the Karakoram WinterLude tournament for eight seasons, attracting teams from across northern Pakistan and drawing spectators who gather under floodlights, their breath visible in the crisp mountain air. The atmosphere is one of community celebration, with fans leaning over stone parapets, sipping tea, and cheering on players. Yet, this year, despite meticulous preparations—including pouring water at night and manually smoothing the ice surface to encourage freezing at temperatures below –20°C—the rink failed to solidify as in previous years. Organizers and players alike stayed up late into the night, hoping to coax the ice into formation, but the sun’s warmth repeatedly undermined their efforts.
Sadiq Saleem, president of the Altit Town Management Society and a founding member of SCARF, a youth organization that introduced ice hockey to the valley, noted a sudden shift in weather patterns starting in 2024. Changes in snowfall, freezing levels, and overall temperatures have made it increasingly difficult to maintain the ice rink. Naseer Uddin, co-founder of SCARF, described how thin puddles appeared where skates scratched the surface, and hairline cracks spread beneath the ice, signaling its fragility. Despite a week of dedicated work, the rink’s vulnerability became apparent when strong sunlight caused the ice to deteriorate rapidly.
Although the opening ceremony for the tournament proceeded under floodlights, organizers cautioned that the ice was too delicate to support full teams. Only team captains participated in the jersey unveiling alongside sponsors, while the traditional opening night friendly match was canceled due to safety concerns. Faced with these challenges, the tournament’s organizers swiftly adapted, relocating the event nearly two hours north to Sost, a town near the Chinese border situated at a higher altitude of about 2,800 meters. This move was an attempt to find colder conditions more conducive to ice formation, a strategy that had worked two winters prior when Altit’s pool also failed to freeze.
However, even Sost’s rink, positioned on an exposed valley floor near the Khunjerab Pass and surrounded by wind-carved ridges funneling cold air, presented difficulties. While the ice was firmer than in Altit, some sections remained thin and fragile. Players cautiously tested the surface before fully committing, and only one of three scheduled matches on the first day could proceed. Skaters struggled with cracks and soft spots, leading to unexpected falls and a challenging playing environment. Each evening, the organizing team continued to pour water over the rink, hoping the cold would solidify the surface, but the uncertainty persisted.
The repercussions of these unpredictable winters extend beyond the players and organizers. Local businesses, including cafés, guesthouses, and transportation services, feel the strain as the winter season becomes less reliable. Smaller guesthouses without adequate heating systems face issues such as frozen pipes, which can burst and cause expensive damage when temperatures fluctuate unpredictably. The decline in dependable winter weather also threatens the broader tourism industry, which has traditionally relied on snow-covered landscapes and frozen lakes to attract visitors during the colder months.
In Hunza, a district with a population under 100,000, residents are grappling with these realities without the technological aids common in other winter sports destinations, such as artificial snow or refrigeration systems. Winter has historically been a quieter season compared to summer, but erratic snowfall, flooding, and road closures now deter visitors who once traveled to experience the region’s pristine winter scenery and participate in events like the Karakoram Interlude.
Local business owners like Naseera Khatoon, who runs Murku Café overlooking the Altit pool, have witnessed the economic impact firsthand. Her daughter Arifa is an ice hockey player, and in previous years, the tournament brought a steady stream of customers who lingered after matches to enjoy traditional meals. This year, despite the opening ceremony, the café remained unusually quiet. Naseera recalls winters when heavy snowfall would close schools for months and families prepared by drying vegetables and stockpiling food. Today, while food availability has improved year-round, the snow and ice that once defined the season are vanishing.
Kareem ul Hayat, responsible for the preservation of the 900-year-old Altit Fort, has observed a decline in winter tourism as well. He noted that the growth in visitors during the ice hockey events had contributed positively to the local economy, but recent winters have seen fewer tourists, reflecting the broader challenges posed by climate change. As Hunza’s communities confront these shifting environmental conditions, the future of their winter traditions and the livelihoods tied to them hangs in the balance.
