For decades, the arrival of winter in Pakistan’s northern mountainous regions has been a reliable signal for the start of a unique local tradition. In the picturesque Hunza Valley, nestled among the towering Himalayan peaks, the pool in front of Aleena Gul’s home has routinely frozen solid, transforming into a natural ice rink. This rink has served as the heart of the community’s beloved ice hockey tournament, the Karakoram WinterLude. However, this year, the familiar sight of a frozen pool has failed to materialize, signaling a troubling shift in the region’s winter patterns.
Aleena Gul, 21, who captains her local ice hockey team and is among the pioneering women athletes in Hunza, has noticed the stark changes firsthand. After spending four years away at university, she returned with enthusiasm to rejoin the sport she loves, only to find the winter chill arriving much later than usual. “There’s a big difference between 2018 and now,” she explained. “Winter used to begin in November, and everything would freeze solid. Now, it’s January, and the ice still hasn’t set properly.” Her experience reflects a broader trend affecting the entire northern mountain region of Pakistan.
Across the Hindu Kush–Himalayan belt, winters are becoming increasingly unpredictable. Scientists studying the area have documented a decline in extreme cold events and shorter snow seasons, phenomena often described locally as a “snow drought,” where snowfall is insufficient to accumulate and sustain ice cover. This shift has profound implications for communities like Hunza, where winter sports and tourism depend entirely on natural ice and snow rather than artificial alternatives common in European resorts.
Data from WeatherWalay, a climate analytics platform, reveals that average winter precipitation in Hunza has dropped by approximately 30% since the late 2010s, with four consecutive years recording below-normal levels. Additionally, recent winters have been 2 to 3 degrees Celsius warmer on average, resulting in less snowfall and thinner ice layers. This combination of reduced precipitation and rising temperatures is disrupting the delicate freeze-thaw cycles that the region’s winter sports rely upon.
The Karakoram WinterLude, held annually at the Altit Fort pool, has been a community highlight for eight seasons. This grassroots tournament attracts teams from across northern Pakistan and plays a vital role in extending the tourist season beyond the summer months. On successful years, the rink glows under floodlights as spectators gather, sipping tea and watching matches unfold against the dramatic backdrop of snow-capped peaks. Yet, this year’s preparations were met with frustration. Organizers painstakingly poured water over the rink at night and smoothed the surface by hand, hoping for temperatures below –20°C to solidify the ice. Despite their efforts, the ice remained fragile and thin.
“We stayed up until 3 a.m. trying to help it freeze,” Aleena recalled. “We’re doing everything we can, but the weather isn’t cooperating.” Sadiq Saleem, 31, president of the Altit Town Management Society and a founding member of the youth group SCARF, which introduced ice hockey to the valley, noted that the weather patterns began shifting noticeably in 2024. “We started seeing sudden changes in snowfall, freezing levels, and overall temperatures,” he said, highlighting the growing challenges faced by the community.
As the ice developed hairline cracks and thin puddles formed where skates cut the surface, organizers grew increasingly concerned. Naseer Uddin, 34, co-founder of SCARF, described the painstaking week spent maintaining the rink, only to have the sun’s strong rays undo their work. The traditional opening ceremony proceeded under floodlights, but caution prevailed. Only team captains unveiled jerseys alongside sponsors, while the usual opening night friendly match was canceled due to safety concerns over the fragile ice.
Faced with these difficulties, the tournament organizers made a swift decision to relocate the event nearly two hours north to Sost, a town near the Chinese border situated at a higher altitude of around 2,800 meters. This move was not unprecedented; two winters prior, when Altit’s pool failed to freeze, the rink in Sost remained solid enough to host matches. However, this year even Sost’s rink showed signs of vulnerability. While firmer than Altit’s, some areas of the ice were thin, forcing players to test the surface cautiously before fully committing.
“When we arrived, the ice wasn’t in good condition,” Aleena said. “Teams still played, but it was very difficult. We’ve never experienced this before.” Skaters struggled with unexpected cracks and soft patches, making play hazardous. Each evening, organizers continued to pour water over the rink, hoping the cold would strengthen the surface. Yet, the reliance on natural ice remains a significant vulnerability. Saliha Ibrahim, 21, part of the organizing team, warned that if conditions do not improve, they may be forced to consider yet another venue change in the future.
The impact of these unpredictable winters extends beyond the players and the tournament itself. Local businesses, including cafés, guesthouses, and transport operators, feel the strain as erratic weather disrupts the winter tourism economy. Smaller guesthouses, often lacking adequate heating, face challenges such as frozen pipes that burst when thawing and refreezing cycles occur, leading to costly repairs. Hunza’s economy, heavily reliant on tourism, is vulnerable to these climate-induced fluctuations.
Historically, winter has been a quieter season in Hunza compared to the bustling summer months. However, events like the Karakoram WinterLude have begun to attract visitors during the colder months, boosting local income and community spirit. Naseera Khatoon, owner of Murku Café overlooking the Altit pool, recalled how tournament weeks used to bring steady business, with families gathering to enjoy traditional meals after matches. This year, despite the opening ceremony, her café remained unusually quiet. “Usually, we earn income during the tournament,” she said. “This time, there was very little.” She reminisced about winters when heavy snowfall closed schools for months and families prepared by drying vegetables and storing food. “Now, food is available year-round, but the snow and ice are disappearing,” she lamented.
Kareem ul Hayat, caretaker of the restored 900-year-old Altit Fort, observed that winter tourism had grown alongside the rise of winter sports events. Yet, in recent years, visitor numbers have declined as unpredictable weather and diminished snowfall deter tourists seeking the region’s iconic snow-covered landscapes. The challenges faced by Hunza reflect a broader global trend, where rising temperatures and changing precipitation patterns threaten the viability of traditional winter sports and the communities that depend on them.
As Hunza’s residents confront these evolving realities, the future of their cherished winter festival and the local economy hangs in the balance. Without access to artificial snowmaking or refrigeration technology, the community remains at the mercy of nature’s shifting rhythms, striving to preserve a tradition that has long been a source of pride and unity in the valley.
