Nepal, Aug. 9 -- Just 10 minutes after leaving the village of Chung Jung, the trail climbed up slightly and then bent behind a hill. The village vanished from view, and the occasional sounds of motorcycles and tractors all but disappeared.

The trail meandered into a broad uneven grassy valley flanked by wide arid hills. Two narrow rivers with icy-cold water rushed downhill with an urgency and ferocity that starkly contrasted the still and quiet landscape. I was the only human being on the trail. Teams of handsome horses with their brown and black coats shining under the afternoon sun were grazing nearby. Several Alpine choughs bobbed around, occasionally pecking at something on the ground my eyes couldn't see. Devoid of any signs of mode...