On one side, there is a wall of rock, hundreds of feet high. On the other side, a gorge, hundreds of feet deep, end of which there is an icy fast-flowing river. In the middle, there is a dusty road a few feet wide. This road is important, the life line to many on this high Himalayan country. And there is drama every day, when two vehicles need to pass each other. The drivers there need to be inch perfect, a wrong move can result in a nasty tumble down the gorge and there is no way for help to arrive in hours. Here's an example:





A loaded lorry needs to pass, there are two utility vehicles on the other side. There are at least fifteen people in the first vehicle. The lorry can't move too much since there is another vehicle in front of it. After fifteen minutes of arguing, the lorry was able to pass, only because the white colored car decided to move down the road.








The temperature was close to freezing. I was looking for birds down the valley when I noticed something large approaching me through the corner of my eye. The first look at this man was the one of amazement and disbelief. I was struggling up the steep gradient of a narrow path along the mountain with a bag full of camera gear and this man was walking up the same slope with a big load of vegetation. As he approached closer, I noticed that he was a rather old man, easily in his sixties. What's more amazing was that most of the weight was being supported by his forehead and his hand were acting as devices for balancing it and his back as a secondary support. As he passed, he smiled at me, he probably realized that I was a little shocked. I was.