GILGIT: The peaks of the Karakoram stand silent this season; their slopes are empty of the usual international mountaineers, thanks to a bitter dispute over permit fees that has thrown Gilgit-Baltistan’s adventure tourism industry into chaos.
It has left over 200 foreign climbers stranded, besides threatening the livelihoods of thousands who depend on the seasonal rush.
The official data reveals that in 2023 and 2024, about 1,000 tourists visited Gilgit-Baltistan.
However, what began as a well-intentioned effort to increase revenue through revised trekking fees has finally spiralled into a full-blown crisis, exposing deep cracks in the region’s tourism governance.
Costly permit, costlier fallout
The trouble started when the Gilgit-Baltistan government announced a 300 per cent increase in mountaineering permit fees on September 16, 2024, under the amended Gilgit-Baltistan Tourism and Trekking Act.
We’ve invested $85,000 and two years of preparation for this K2 attempt…Now we’re stuck here watching the weather window close while officials pass the buck.” – Lars Schneider, leader of a German mountaineering team.
Officials argue that the hike was necessary to bring Pakistan’s fees in line with international standards and to fund much-needed conservation efforts in the fragile mountain ecosystems.
The Gilgit-Baltistan government revised the fee structure for foreign climbers to scale K2 by fixing $5,000 during the summer season, $2,500 in autumn, and $1,500 in winter.
When compared to other countries, the updated fees remain competitive. For instance, Nepal’s permit fees for Everest are $11,000 during the spring season, while other peaks above 8,000 meters cost around $10,000.
This adjustment aligns Pakistan’s fees more closely with international standards while still offering a more affordable option for climbers seeking to conquer one of the world’s highest peaks.
“For stranded mountaineers, this increase might seem steep, but it is worth noting that the additional revenue is intended to fund conservation efforts and improve the fragile mountain ecosystems of the region,’’ says Eiman Shah, the Special Assistant to the Chief Minister of Gilgit-Baltistan.
Shah goes on to say that the fees are still reasonable as compared to the costs in other countries, making Pakistan an attractive destination for mountaineers.
This balance between affordability and sustainability ensures that the region can continue to welcome adventurers while preserving its natural beauty.
“This adjustment was long overdue,” says Shah.
Climbers left in limbo
But the mountaineering community sees things differently. Local tour operators immediately challenged the move in court on March 1 this year, arguing the sudden increase would price Pakistan out of the competitive adventure tourism market.
A few days later, the high court of the region—Gilgit-Baltistan Chief Court—suspended the fee hike order. However, instead of bringing relief to the mountaineers, it backfired spectacularly.
With the old fee structure technically repealed but no clear mechanism in the court judgement to revert to previous rates, the Tourism Department simply stopped issuing permits altogether.
“We’re trapped in bureaucratic limbo,” admits a senior department official who asked not to be named.
“The court told us not to apply the new fees, but the law authorising the old fees no longer exists.”
This isn’t just about one season’s income…Pakistan risks permanent damage to its reputation as a reliable mountaineering destination.” – Dr. Ayesha Siddiqi, a mountain tourism expert at the University of Cambridge.
The consequences have been immediate and devastating. In the hotels of Skardu—approximately 208 kilometres southeast of Gilgit city—frustrated climbers from a dozen countries watch helplessly as their carefully planned expeditions unravel.
“We’ve invested $85,000 and two years of preparation for this K2 attempt,” says Lars Schneider, leader of a German mountaineering team.
“Now we’re stuck here watching the weather window close while officials pass the buck.”
Ripple effect hits hard
At the K2 Motel in Skardu, normally bustling with climbers at this time of year, the dining hall sits half-empty, its staff nervously counting dwindling tips.
Likewise, James, a British trekking enthusiast, finds himself stuck in Gilgit-Baltistan due to the trekking ban.
“I came here with dreams of exploring the majestic Karakoram Range and experiencing the adventure of a lifetime,” he shares. But now, I am unsure of what to do next.
It is frustrating, but at the same time, I have been overwhelmed by the warmth and hospitality of the local people.
“While I can’t trek, I’ve had the chance to immerse myself in the culture, try local cuisine, and learn about the history of this beautiful region. It’s not the adventure I planned, but it’s still been an unforgettable experience.”
The economic ripple effects are spreading rapidly through the local economy.
Tour operators report cancellations exceeding $2 million collectively, while more than 3,000 seasonal workers—porters, guides, cooks and drivers—find themselves unexpectedly unemployed at what should be the busiest time of year.
An official source confides to WE News English that about 50 expeditions were cancelled, inflicting more than Rs 200 million loss to the adventure tourism industry.
“The impasse has created significant economic challenges for us,” says Hidayat Khan, a local hospitality entrepreneur in Gilgit.
He would witness a considerable number of foreign tourists visiting Gilgit-Baltistan every season, but this year, the situation is far from normal.
For stranded mountaineers, this increase might seem steep, but the additional revenue is intended to fund conservation and protect fragile ecosystems.” – Eiman Shah, Special Assistant to the Chief Minister.
Khan further mentioned that while domestic tourists have started arriving in the region, foreign visitors remain crucial for the local economy.
“One cancelled French expedition means 15 jeeps sitting idle, 25 porters without work, and 40 empty hotel rooms [during the season],” laments Hussain Ali, a prominent tour operator in Skardu.
“Multiply that by dozens of groups and you see how catastrophic this is.”
Behind the immediate crisis lie deeper structural problems. The Chief Court’s full bench will not conduct a hearing in the substantive case until May, effectively writing off the entire spring climbing season.
Pakistan’s image at stake
There is growing tension between the federal government of Pakistan and the provincial government of Gilgit-Baltistan over who actually controls tourism policy.
Even within the industry, divisions are emerging between smaller operators who want affordable fees and larger companies advocating for premium pricing to limit numbers.
The international mountaineering community is taking notice. The International Climbing and Mountaineering Federation (UIAA) has issued a travel advisory, while at least seven major expeditions have already rerouted to Nepal.
“This isn’t just about one season’s income,” warns Dr. Ayesha Siddiqi, an expert on mountain tourism economies who teaches at the Department of Geography, University of Cambridge, England.
“Pakistan risks permanent damage to its reputation as a reliable mountaineering destination.”
As the stalemate continues, desperate stakeholders are proposing stopgap solutions. Some suggest an emergency ordinance to temporarily restore the old fee structure.
Others call for expedited court hearings or a tourism bailout fund.
With G-B Chief Minister Haji Gulbar Khan convening crisis talks, all eyes are on whether a compromise can be found before the summer climbing season goes off the rails.
For now, the majestic peaks of the Karakoram remain strangely quiet, their trails untouched and their economic promise unfulfilled—a stark reminder of how quickly policy missteps can turn the tide and transform bustling base camps into ghost towns.
