Our Jeep came to a stop at the side of the mountain road. We’d been driving all day.

“Where are we?”

The driver looked back.

“Dras. Coldest place on Earth. We overnight here. Zoji-la tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

He pointed through the windshield.

“Cross the Himalayas. Only daytime. Next week they close it for winter. We just made it. Yeah?”

Then he pulled a jacket and pillow out from behind the seat and fell asleep.

Behind him, my brother and I rummaged our bags for anything warm, then shivered until sunrise.

~

At first light of dawn, he muttered under his breath and started the car.

“Zoji-la.”

Then he turned up the radio and drummed his fingers against the steering wheel.

I didn’t recognize the tune.

Out the window, warning signs proclaimed hand-painted safety messages in colorful letters.

HORN IS TO HONK, PLEASE DO IT ON MY CURVES

BRO, DRIVE ON HORSEPOWER NOT RUM POWER

“Look.”

My brother pointed.

A chapel appeared beside the road. A cross above the alcove.

Another had a many-armed god inside.

Then another, its minarets topped with crescent moons.

A car had stopped beside it. Its passengers knelt in prayer.

We kept driving.

Our tires skittered on the gravel, and then the nose of the Jeep jolted downwards.

Out the left window, I could see for a hundred miles. The pass wound and folded back on itself along cliffs and ledges to the valley below me.

The ground was golden, but shrouded in the blue of distance, and far, far below, a sparkle of water ran like a silver snake through the valley.

A truck appeared around the next hairpin turn, filling the road. Hand-painted flowers—reds, greens, and golds—decorated its sides.

Our driver swerved toward the cliff.

I looked down.

Nothing but air separated the road from the valley.

The truck passed close enough that I could see the face of its driver. Then our driver turned the wheel back toward the center.

Before I could settle, a motorcycle shot past my window from behind.

Another turn.

Another blind corner.

A jeep appeared.

We moved toward the edge again.

I grabbed the armrest, and I closed my eyes.

And, at that moment, I let go.