Returns insist upon some reflection and this return is no different. Half a month upon that  route of high along the eastern flank of Mustang, followed up by a half month of Solukhumbu and the wide spaces of Mustang seem simple to conjure. The reassuring view of our mule caravan (and all that it carries) Mustang’s fate seems to shift all over the orbit but whatever shall be, there is much change in the dust of this formerly independent kingdom. Money comes in to construct (an

Part 1 of our journey into the Andean world and my own slight obsession with the concept and Quechuan word, Ayni, here. The Quechuan word ‘Ayni’…a sublime and old Andean idea; a responsibility that one has to one’s community. A guiding principle and philosophy rather than any law, it very roughly translates into ‘reciprocity’. A part of the social responsibility to one’s community and the earth, the Pachamama. The idea is a living thing and not simply an arcane idea where one

Withered little holes of caves rest in a line hundreds of metres above on a sheer wall of red stone. This pattern has repeated itself again and again on this journey. On sheer walls – upon closer looks through a telephoto lens – a series of threadlike lines that once acted as pathways accessing entrance ways zig zag their way along the mountains. Long ago,those seemingly high walls weren’t so high. River ways once burbled and roared through the valleys taking glacier melt wat

Ladakh expedition plans changed last minute to Mustang. One stunning Himalayan world for another…and one historically linked to another in days of trade. We will trudge by foot north to Lo Manthang from just north of Jomson providing the flights are able to negotiate through the famed winds that can chuck a piece of metal around at will. The mountain sanctuary that awaits Our small team will still be travelling along an old trade route but a team and logistics have had to be

Departures by plane seem to suck some of the magic out of tangible travel but they do usher in other spaces and ways of life in a rush and blast. Today departing to Peru with a similar minded crew to film and breath in portions of the network of roads and pathways that scurry through the Andes known collectively as the Qhapaq Nan, and more specifically in cases, the Inca Road. Mountains matter….the world over, they matter. And so too the life within and upon them. So much of

The main peak of Kawa Karpo (Meili Snow Mountain) in northwestern Yunnan “It is when the mountains sigh, that the world is tested” Apologies as there has been little in the way of postings due to that ‘ever-clever’ issue of technology which has plagued me. Some of the beautiful bulk of the east facing range At present in preparation for a two-week expedition beginning October 24th, around Kawa Karpo with comrade in all things mountain related, Michael Kleinwort. An ideal time

One of the memorable faces that reside close to five kilometres in the sky near Genyen Brongri is a mountain god that is only called upon when nomadic disputes have reached a level when they cannot be solved by the mortal will. It should be noted that the Tibetan nomadic mortal will, whether in pursuit of good or not, can be a very substantial force of nature. Brongri’s invitation to settle is only issued when things have reached an untenable level…when blood ‘letting’ is an

Jeff Fuchs will speak at Beijing International Society speaking about the lost nomadic route of salt: “In Search of White Gold – The Ancient Himalaya Salt Route”, September, 8, 2011 here Tsa'lam - Nomadic Route of Salt Eternal Commodity, Finite Route #WildChinaExploreroftheYear2011 #Trek #HimalayanSaltRoute #Sustainableexploration #HimalayanTrade #HimalayanResource #Qinghai #Explore #Amdo #Salt #Tibettrade #Tsa #Tsalam #Tibet #JeffFuchs #NomadicRouteofSalt

We awake with a shudder to mountain cold and the realization that something has changed overnight regarding our ‘team’. Clear air with a hint of blue in the sky as dawn gives way to day waits…. while by the fire a strange figure coaxes more heat from the coals. Our canine friend is stretching out his little limbs to rid them of cold. The larger mastiffs have all disappeared – home I guess. It is the figure near the fire that holds me as I emerge from our tent. Where is our gu

A three hundred degree view taken within the protective walls of Abujee facing the valley that is both entrance and exit point for us. Many say snow is silent; I would say that snow silences and mutes like few other elements known, but it is not silent. Snow at altitude pops and pricks and it bounces in small booms especially when its good friend the wind hustles it along. The snow around me, even under the cracking blue sky, is being whipped up by the western blasts of wind,