Why I Keep Returning To The Himalayas
It's love rooted in the courage to live life on my terms
The Himalayas have fascinated me for as long as I can remember.
As a kid, I loved to poke my head into Dad's thick, gold-rimmed picture books. Those that talked of sky-high, unconquerable mountains, shimmering pagoda roofs, its brave people. Of ancient monasteries far from civilization, majestic glaciers, and cultures that seemed lightyears away.
Yet, they won my young heart instantly.
Not surprisingly, my first encounter with the Himalayas was more than just a visit. In the fall of 1988, during my early 20s, I landed in Nepal, a quaint kingdom back then framed by the stunning, shimmering peaks of the Himalayas against the fading sunlight.
It was love at first sight.
I was utterly enchanted as I trekked along the footpaths heading up and into the Himalayas. Mesmerized by the towering giants and the warm-hearted locals residing at their foothills. By the vibrant prayer flags joyfully fluttering in the crispy mountain breeze. By the breathtaking beauty of Mother Earth and her creation at the edge of two colliding continents — a stunning spectacle forged over millions of years.
