Travelogue - Exploring the lakes of Ladakh with the Mercedes-Benz GLC 300

India Today

07-07-2025

In Ladakh, stillness is not a lack of movement. It is a presence of air, of scale, of silence so deep it echoes in your thoughts. Across this towering, stark, and lunar expanse lie three lakes that don't just define the landscape—they elevate it: Pangong Tso, Tso Moriri, and Tso Kar. Each is a mirror of Ladakh's many moods, each more remote than the last. And to chase them is to understand that the journey is as much about the road between them as the water itself.
The journey to explore the glorious lakes of Ladakh began with an important conversation over a couple of warm cups of coffee.
advertisementThe mission wasn't a checklist. It was a pursuit. Not for speed or spectacle, but for immersion. In a land ruled by geology and weather, where time dilates and the horizon always stays distant, the search for Ladakh's sacred lakes is a meditative act. What you drive in such conditions is no small decision - it becomes your cocoon, your compass, your only constant. The Mercedes-Benz GLC 300 was just that: an unshakeable tool for modern-day exploration, defined by confidence, comfort, and composure.The journey began from Jispa, on a particularly cold and damp early morning with an eery silence. The GLC 300 pulled out from the parking, the engine humming with a muted growl. At its heart was a 2.0-litre 4-cylinder turbocharged petrol engine, mated to a mild-hybrid system that brought both responsiveness and refinement. The power was immediate but never urgent; a surge when needed, a whisper when not. The GLC 300 never flinched. It carried on its pursuit of providing modern-day explorer with penchant for luxury and class, an SUV that can do it all.
On our way to Pangong Tso, we also made a stop at Deepak Tal, situated just before the Baralacha La Pass.
As the elevation increased, so did the terrain's hostility. Steep gradients, rockfall-prone stretches, icy rivulets across the road, each bend demanded attention. The GLC 300 answered not with brute force but with balance. Its 4MATIC all-wheel-drive system coupled with the off-road engineering package didn't simply react; it anticipated. Torque moved seamlessly between axles, helping the SUV glide over surfaces that seemed like tests. There was no drama - just grip, traction, and trust. What's more, each hair-raising bend bought along more and more confidence, as the GLC 300 tackled the corners with a calculated demeanour. Beyond Chang La, the landscape opened like a cracked canvas. Flat valleys stretched to oblivion, only to be suddenly interrupted by jagged peaks. And there, breaking through this wild monochrome, was Pangong Tso.Pangong Tso: The holy grail
The lake arrives without warning. One moment you're driving through dusty emptiness, and the next, there's a burst of blue that doesn't belong in this world. Stretching over 130 kilometres, with two-thirds of its length lying in Tibet, Pangong is not just a lake; it's an optical illusion. Its colours shift with the sky: steel grey at dawn, cobalt blue by noon, and violet as the sun begins to fall. It sits at an elevation of 14,270 feet but feels higher still. The air is thin, the light otherworldly, and the silence absolute.The GLC 300 rolled to a stop at its edge, its tyres crunching softly on gravel. The lake looked untouched, eternal. Inside the cabin, warmed by heated seats and shielded from the icy wind, it felt like watching the world from within a snow globe. A perfect bubble of stillness in a place built on scale. But the journey hadn't even begun to peak.
The famous 'Gata Loops' served as the perfect test for the GLC 300's well-balanced chassis.
The road to Tso Moriri is less a route and more a negotiation. After a while, the lines on the map begin to disappear, and with them, all expectations of what roads should look like. The GLC 300 became less of a car and more of a capsule, carving through sand, fording streams, and moving through terrain that seemed undecided on what it wanted to be. At times, the landscape flattened into high-altitude desert; at others, it narrowed into canyons of silence. The 'invisible bonnet' camera view proved invaluable, revealing hidden boulders and craters that lay just beneath the bonnet's line of sight. With each climb, the surroundings grew starker, but the silence deeper.
Pangong Tso's beauty was a sight for sore eyes. It was the first of the three lakes in store.
advertisementYet the GLC 300 kept breathing steadily. The perfectly tuned suspension soaked up unpredictability with grace. The 9-speed automatic transmission shifted intuitively, always in sync with the rhythm of the terrain. Inside the cabin, though, there was no trace of this effort. The Burmester audio system scored the scenery softly, while the expansive MBUX infotainment interface kept track of altitude, navigation, and range with crisp clarity. Even at 15,000 feet, technology wasn't struggling. It was supporting. Eventually, beyond the bends of Korzok, the land relaxed its grip and Tso Moriri emerged.Tso Moriri: Sitting pretty at 14,835 feetIf Pangong was the performance, Moriri was the prayer. There was a different kind of silence here. Heavier. More sacred. The lake lay in a bowl of weathered mountains, its waters darker, its moods slower. The reflection of passing clouds moved lazily across the surface, as though time itself had adjusted to the altitude. You didn't rush at Moriri. You stayed, you watched, you breathed a little deeper. Even the car seemed to pause. Its presence was subtle now, its comfort appreciated but not distracting. At that height and temperature, everything outside was harsh. But inside, it was luxury without intrusion.
The GLC 300's plush and well-equipped interiors made sure no journey was too arduous. It makes for an even better viewing of Tso Moriri.
advertisementAt 14,835 feet, this freshwater lake lies cradled in the arms of the Changthang Plateau, some 28 kilometres long and flanked by snow-capped peaks that guard it like sentinels. Tso Moriri is quieter than Pangong, but deeper; in water, in meaning, in emotion. It is part of the Tso Moriri Wetland Conservation Reserve, a protected sanctuary that hosts migratory bar-headed geese, Brahminy ducks, and rare black-necked cranes. It is sacred not only to the Changpa nomads who move with their herds across its periphery, but also to the wind, which never stops whispering across its icy surface.
The temperature may have been falling, but the altitude and the ante were on the rise. However, the Mercedes-Benz GLC kept its cool.
advertisementFrom Moriri, the journey shifted into something more introspective. No longer chasing but absorbing. The valleys between lakes weren't empty, they were expansive. Wild kiangs ran across flatlands without boundaries. The road curved around nothing and everything. Occasionally, Puga's geothermal fields would rise like surreal paintings from the earth, adding sulphuric hues to the journey. And always, the GLC 300 kept moving with calm assurance, a rolling observatory through space and silence. Through it all, the GLC 300 never faltered. Its poised handling, composed steering, and the balance of technology and grace allowed it to become part of the landscape, not an intruder, but a fellow traveller.
The rugged terrain, the calm blues and the GLC 300's gorgeous silhouette made for the perfect frame at Tso Moriri.
With each climb, each turn, the machine receded, and the experience emerged. It didn't just ferry the journey, it facilitated transformation. The final lake felt like a place the world had forgotten. It was the most subdued, the most minimal, and perhaps for that reason, the most haunting. At first glance, it didn't dazzle. The colours were muted. The surface shallow. But there was a beauty in its restraint, a stark honesty. Salt flats flaked at the edges. Winds raked across the valley without resistance. And the horizon stretched without punctuation.Tso Kar: One of a kindPerched at 14,860 feet, Tso Kar is a saltwater basin surrounded by bone-dry hills and forgotten winds. Once part of a freshwater system, it's now a pale, cracking mirror to the sky, ringed by salt crusts and the bones of time. But even here, life persists: wolves, kiangs, cranes. This is not a place for the faint-hearted. It's a place that strips you down to thought and breath.
The parting images from Tso Moriri were just as calm and serene as the water from the lake itself.
Tso Kar didn't try to impress. It simply existed. And in that, it demanded more from you. More stillness, more observation, more surrender. There were no crowds here. No caf shacks, no flags. Just raw nature, holding space. The GLC 300 rested at the edge, its silhouette now coated in the miles behind it. It had conquered nothing and yet achieved everything. The journey hadn't been about proving capability, it had been about enabling access. Through sand, over rock, into altitude and across uncertainty, the SUV had been a facilitator. Its motor had offered not just power, but poise. Its technology hadn't shouted; it had simply worked in the background, always ready. As we began our journey back. The lakes stayed. Not physically - they were now distant - but emotionally, they lingered. Pangong's theatrical blues, Moriri's brooding depths, and Tso Kar's silent resilience, they weren't just sights; they were experiences. Each reflected a different emotion. Each demanded a different kind of stillness.
There was no mountain too high, or lake too far, for the GLC 300. It was so much more than just a machine taking us from one place to another.
Ladakh doesn't ask for much. It doesn't promise comfort or clarity. But if you arrive ready to surrender, equipped with patience, humility, and a machine built not just to endure but to elevate, it rewards you with something few places on earth can offer: complete presence. In the end, it wasn't about the car or the destination. It was about the journey in between—the space where silence grows loud, where movement becomes meaning, and where still water in high places reflects not just the sky above, but something quieter within.
Every place we visited in Ladakh, the Mercedes-Benz GLC 300 made for a memorable splash!
Yet, the GLC 300, in all its refinement and resolve, enabled this epic journey for the search of the oldest witness to those unrelenting peaks—not by demanding attention, but by quietly empowering the journey. In places where few machines dare and fewer still belong, it proved unshakeable. Not just capable, but soulful. And in the vast silence of Ladakh—where lakes shimmer like dreams and time walks slower—the greatest luxury isn't comfort. It's clarity. And clarity, as it turns out, is always worth chasing.Subscribe to Auto Today Magazine- Ends