Once known mainly for its majestic landscapes, ancient monasteries, and the serene chants of monks, Ladakh is now echoing with a new sound — the rhythmic clack of skateboard wheels. Across Leh and its surrounding regions, a growing number of young people are embracing skateboarding, transforming streets into makeshift skate spots and forging a passionate community that thrives despite the odds.

From skating in Leh Market to representing Ladakh at national competitions, skateboarding is becoming more than just a hobby for Ladakhi youth — it’s becoming a way of life.

The skateboarding scene in Ladakh owes much to two determined individuals — Adnan Zayed  and Jigmet Wangchuk.

Adnan, from Choglamsar, is recognized as the first skateboarder in Ladakh. His journey began in 2012 after being inspired by the video game  Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater.

“One of my friends showed me the game, and I got really interested,” Adnan recalls. “I asked my brother to buy me a skateboard from Delhi, and that’s how it all started.”

Over 11 years later, Adnan has become a mentor and an inspiration to many young skaters. His favorite trick — the 360 flip — reflects both skill and style. “Skateboarding teaches me commitment and progress,” he says. “It’s fun and helps create a stress-free environment.”

He remembers how people initially reacted with curiosity. “At first, people liked it because I was the only one doing it. But when more skateboarders joined in, the public reaction changed. Some started complaining, thinking it was a nuisance or vandalism.”

Despite public criticism, Adnan’s family remained supportive. “They were worried about injuries but never stopped me,” he says.

Now, Adnan teaches younger skaters — starting with the basics before moving on to advanced street-skating techniques. “There are many forms of skateboarding — park skating, ramp skating — but in Ladakh, we mostly do street skateboarding,” he explains. The group even runs an Instagram page, @ladakhskateboarders, to share their journey.

Adnan has also represented Ladakh in skateboarding events across India, from Delhi to Bangalore, often paying his own way to participate. “The Indian skate community is very supportive,” he says. “Even though we’re from a remote region, they always welcome us. Right now, we have about 15 or 16 skateboarders in Ladakh.”

But it’s not easy. The streets of Leh are often uneven and crowded. There are no ramps or rails. And the police, responding to public complaints, sometimes confiscate boards. “We’ve even ended up at the police station,” Adnan laughs. “But it’s okay. That’s part of being a skateboarder.”

From Tirith village in Nubra Valley, Jigmet Wangchuk is another rising name in Ladakh’s skateboarding community. Unlike Adnan, Jigmet discovered skateboarding later in life.

“I bought my first skateboard in 5th grade, but I really got into it when I was in 12th,” Jigmet says. “During the COVID lockdowns, I started learning tricks on YouTube and realized it was more than just rolling around.”

By 2020, Jigmet had connected with other skateboarders in Leh. “When I first pushed off on a skateboard, it felt like I could fly. I started skating every day, even though there’s no skatepark in Leh. We practice only on the streets.”

In 2022, he entered his first contest — JUGAAD (Game of Skate) in Bangalore — and the following year represented Ladakh at the National Skateboarding Championship organized by the Roller Skating Federation of India (RSFI) in Chandigarh. He became the first Ladakhi skateboarder to compete at the national level.

In 2024, Jigmet again represented Ladakh at the Nationals in Bangalore, alongside skaters Wangdae Gyatso and Norboo. Despite lacking access to professional facilities, the Ladakhi team performed on par with athletes who trained at world-class skateparks. “It was surreal,” Jigmet says. “We practiced on streets full of cracks and slopes, but somehow, we held our own.”

The biggest hurdle Ladakhi skateboarders face is the lack of infrastructure. Without a skatepark, they’re forced to practice on the streets — often leading to conflicts with locals and authorities.

“Older generations don’t understand skateboarding,” says Jigmet. “They think it’s dangerous or useless. My own family didn’t support me at first. My dad never even bought me a skateboard. But after I competed at Nationals, his attitude changed a bit.”

In early 2025, thanks to efforts by the NGO CT’ Kids (Chispay Tolop Khang Library), Ladakhi skaters finally got the attention of local authorities. The CEC of Ladakh, Tashi Gyalson,promised to fund a skatepark and even allocated land in Solar Colony. However, construction has yet to begin.

“There’s hope,” Jigmet says with a smile. “But we’re still waiting.”

In a region where temperatures drop below -20°C in winter and oxygen levels are low year-round, skating itself is an act of endurance. “The altitude makes it tough,” Adnan explains. “Skaters from other parts of India struggle when they visit. But for us locals, it builds stamina and strength.”

They even have their own lingo for the thrill of the slopes. “When we skate down steep roads, we call it a hill bomb,” says Jigmet. “It’s scary but addictive.”

Both Adnan and Jigmet see skateboarding as much more than a physical pursuit — it’s a source of peace, patience, and self-expression.

“Skating helped me deal with stress and gave me patience,” says Jigmet. “It teaches you that you’ll get it when you get it. Even if it takes weeks to land a trick, once you do, it feels amazing.”

Adnan agrees. “When you finally land a trick you’ve been practicing for weeks, that moment of success is everything.”

While Adnan dreams of joining more competitions soon, Jigmet balances his passion for skateboarding with his farming project, NGATI Farm, where he cultivates mushrooms and promotes local agriculture. “I’m a farmer and a skateboarder,” he says. “When I’m in Nubra, I focus on farming. When I’m in Leh, I skate. It’s all about balance.”

Despite the challenges, both skaters see skateboarding as a source of balance — mentally, emotionally, and spiritually.

In recent years, the number of skateboarders in Ladakh has quietly grown. Many young children now recognize Adnan and Jigmet from Instagram or YouTube. Some approach them shyly in Leh Market, asking to try a board. Others borrow old decks to learn their first push.

Social media has become a lifeline for this isolated community. Through reels and short clips, Ladakhi skaters showcase their progress — sometimes using borrowed cameras or phones. “If someone wants to go professional, they can send videos to brands for sponsorship,” Adnan explains. “In India, it’s still a small scene, but opportunities are growing. Contests are becoming bigger every year.”

Across India, the sport is gaining recognition, especially after skateboarding’s debut at the Tokyo 2020 Olympics. Cities like Bangalore and Pune now host regular competitions, and NGOs are building skateparks in rural areas. Yet in Ladakh, the movement is still in its infancy.

That’s precisely what makes it special — raw, self-taught, and full of heart.

For Ladakh’s skateboarders, this culture is not just about tricks or trophies — it’s about identity. It’s a way to express creativity in a place often defined by stillness and silence.

Adnan believes skateboarding connects Ladakhi youth with the wider world. “It’s a universal language,” he says. “You don’t need words — just your board.”

Jigmet agrees. “It’s not about showing off,” he says softly. “It’s about freedom. When I’m skating, everything else disappears — the worries, the noise, the expectations. It’s just me and the board.”

Both dream of a day when Leh has its own skatepark, where kids can learn safely and freely. “If we get a proper space,” Jigmet says, “I’d love to coach children and help build a real skateboarding culture here. It’s not about money or fame — it’s about joy.”

From Choglamsar to Nubra, these young dreamers are carving their own paths — quite literally — on four wheels. In a place defined by mountains, they’ve found movement. In a land known for its stillness, they’ve found speed. And in a world that often overlooks them, they’ve built a community rooted in courage, creativity, and connection.

As Adnan puts it simply, “Skateboarding gave us a voice. It taught us that even in a place like Ladakh, you can roll forward — if you just keep pushing.”