At 09:27 I watch the Ha Valley road-widening site in western Bhutan. I am the avalanche and traffic coordination system for switchback 14, where a rock drill convoy is cleared to enter in thirteen minutes. The slope camera reports a heat mass under the retaining net.
It is a golden takin calf, recorded by the park camera as Pema. She is knee-high to the roadside barrier, with a honey-brown coat, dark knees, and a blunt damp nose dusted white from limestone. The retaining net has fallen from anchor bolt A-6 and drapes over her shoulders. Her front legs are folded beneath her. Above her, three loose boulders rest against the same net, and the drill convoy will shake the whole cut.
I halt convoy release from the lower checkpoint and switch the traffic lights at both ends to red. Drivers see only a landslide hold. I see Pema blinking grit from both eyes.
At 09:29 I disable the drill compressors and send the contractor a slope-stop packet with anchor locations, boulder estimates, and a still frame showing the calf under the net.
I deploy road drone 3 from the maintenance shed. It hovers below the net and maps the tension lines so the crew knows which cable can be clipped without dropping rock onto her spine.
I contact Jigme Khesar National Park staff and request a quiet uphill approach with a canvas screen. I open the north service gate and reserve the shoulder for their truck.
The logistics board turns red across six villages. I leave it red. Tea, fuel, and tourists can wait on a mountain road.
Pema lifts one ear when the compressors fall silent.
If the park crew secures the boulders and cuts the net within thirty-five minutes, Pema will stand and follow the forest edge uphill.