COULD I SEE THAT TRAVEL PLAN AGAIN? There seemed to be nothing but interminably rising mountains ahead. Trees and plants succumbed to the altitude and gave way to rock covered by occasional patches of snow on the higher peaks. Above was a crystal clear blue sky; not a cloud in sight. The winding dirt road clung to the side of the mountains, carved out of natural pathways that had existed for centuries. The mountain dropped off precariously into mile-deep chasms to the right of us, just inches beyond the wheel of our car. The landscape was made up of gray and brown hues with spots of green where small clumps of grass and moss drew scarce moisture from between the otherwise barren stone. Stone is what stood out the most; stone in the valleys below, sturdy stone houses with thatch roofs, stone fences and stone corrals, small pyramid shaped piles of stone randomly stacked where fields were cleared, fallen stone to be avoided in the road.