Marianique and I reversed course and headed back down the mountain from Muktinath, a depressing...

The morning after the Valley Girl lost her composure, Marianique and I packed up our backpacks,...

After a breakfast of singed nan and gritty porridge prepared by our Lete innkeeper, Marianique and...

The old Egypt Air 737 slowly rose from the bumpy runway and soared upward into a bright clear sky....

Marianique refused to stay an extra day in Ghorepani—despite our aching bodies, the eclectic...

Near the top of the ridge above Pokhara, I came to a fork in the trail. It was poorly marked so I...

The winding death-ride in the old bus from Kathmandu ended when the betel-chewing driver swung off...

Five uniformed Federales marched up the beach in our direction, eyes locked forward, guns in readied positions.

We could feel the radiance of the burning pyres nearly a hundred feet away. Woody fuel crackled...