While the annual Himalayan gold rush prepares to open in late May, climate change, declining yields, and deadly high-altitude risks cast a dark shadow over Karnali’s Yarsagumba harvesting season.

In the highland pastures of Nepal’s Karnali province, the much-anticipated annual harvest of yarsagumba – the highly prized caterpillar fungus – is officially scheduled to commence in the final week of May. Often referred to as the “Himalayan gold rush,” this period represents the most crucial economic event of the year for local residents. Found predominantly in the Mugu, Dolpa, Jumla, and Rukum East districts, the rare fungus is renowned for its purported medicinal properties, especially its applications in Chinese medicine. However, as the season approaches, the traditional excitement is increasingly dampened by a sobering reality: shrinking yields and mounting high-altitude perils are threatening a critical way of life.

A Deliberate Delay for Conservation

Before the disruptions of the COVID-19 pandemic, the high-altitude pastures typically opened to harvesters as early as April. Yet, in recent years, local authorities have strategically postponed the season’s start. This year, thousands of eager villagers are currently stockpiling essential provisions – primarily ‘satu’, ghee, and warm clothing – preparing for a gruelling, month-long stay in the wilderness starting in late May.

Jitendra Mahat, chief of the Division Forest Office in Dolpa, emphasized that this delay is a carefully calculated conservation effort designed to protect the fragile ecosystem. Opening the highlands early often means the snow hasn’t sufficiently melted and the yarsagumba hasn’t reached full maturity. Pushing the harvest to late May allows the fungus’s natural reproductive processes to progress, which is vital for its long-term ecological sustainability. Last year, the collection in Dolpa officially began on May 19. To manage the immense influx of approximately 10,000 individuals into the national forests and Shey Phoksundo National Park, authorities established nine separate entry posts, collecting Rs. 19.3 million in revenue.

An Essential Economic Lifeline

Despite the robust institutional management, the deeply human element of the harvest is driven by stark necessity. In Mugu, local governments collected nearly Rs. 6.4 million last year, charging residents Rs. 1,500 and outsiders Rs. 2,000 for entry. For impoverished families in the region, the season is an existential gamble. The massive upfront costs of food, specialized gear, and travel force many to take out crippling loans before the harvest even begins.

Kaman Budha from Tripurasundari Rural Municipality in Dolpa perfectly captures the precarious nature of this livelihood. Preparing to bring his entire five-member family to the highlands, he noted that yarsagumba represents their sole source of substantial income. Without this high-risk expedition, covering household expenses for the remainder of the year would be impossible. Last year, his family’s month-long endeavour yielded Rs. 200,000, a sum that sustains them when local farm production falls woefully short. Earnings from the fungus – which can fetch up to Rs. 1,000 per piece directly on the mountain – are absolutely essential for surviving the harsh Himalayan winters.

Shrinking Harvests and Ecological Alarm

While the international market value of yarsagumba continues to soar – with Chinese traders in Kathmandu paying up to Rs. 3.2 million per kilogram last year – the actual harvest volumes are steadily declining. Harvesters like Purna Bahadur Devkota from Rukum West lament the dramatic drop in findings. Navigating vertical cliffs for 23 days last year yielded a meager 150 pieces for Devkota, highlighting how diminishing returns are leaving families in debt rather than prosperity.

Botanists and environmental researchers point to a perfect storm of ecological crises. The decline is attributed to a potent combination of overharvesting, erratic rainfall, forest degradation, unregulated livestock grazing, and climate change. The life cycle of Ophiocordyceps sinensis is intrinsically tied to snow cover. With less snowfall in the lower pastures, vulnerable ghost moth larvae fail to survive.

Furthermore, researchers have noted a highly concerning “vertical migration.” Historically flourishing between 3,000 and 5,500 meters, yarsagumba is becoming rare below 4,000 meters. Provincial data validates this grim trend, showing a continuous drop from 409 kilograms collected in the 2022-23 fiscal year to just 310 kilograms in the 2024-25 cycle.

The Deadly Toll of the High Altitude

The extreme physical demands of the yarsagumba harvest present perhaps the most harrowing aspect of the entire trade. Reaching the remote collection sites requires agonizing days of trekking through untamed wilderness where no established paths exist, often carrying survival loads exceeding 50 kilograms. The brutal shift to extreme altitudes can be lethal, a severe danger exponentially compounded by the lack of proper mountain safety gear among impoverished collectors.

Tragically, the desperate pursuit of this Himalayan gold frequently demands the ultimate price. Official data from the Karnali Provincial Police Office reveals that 26 people have died on the pastures over the past three years alone. Last year, five harvesters succumbed to the harsh conditions across Dolpa, Mugu, and Jumla. Additionally, police reported 29 major injuries and 33 emergency helicopter rescues of collectors suffering from severe altitude sickness, turning a critical economic lifeline into a genuinely deadly gamble.

Expanding Regulations and a Precarious Future

As Karnali urgently readies for its upcoming harvest, neighbouring districts are intensely grappling with the complex logistics of the trade. In Manang, within the Gandaki province, the harvesting season has already commenced under notably stricter regulations. Governing bodies there have implemented significantly higher permit fees – up to Rs17,000 for outsiders – and have completely banned the use of alcohol and gambling within collection camps to maintain strict social order and safety.

Looking ahead, the provincial government of Karnali is attempting to delicately balance the immediate economic needs of its vulnerable citizens with vital, long-term ecological preservation. Suresh Adhikari, the provincial Minister for Industry, Tourism, Forest, and Environment, stressed that the lucrative herbal economy is fundamentally vital to the region’s prosperity. Yet, with financial yields continuously shrinking and environmental dangers mounting higher every single year, the enduring resilience of the people who depend on yarsagumba will be severely and critically tested in the years to come.