Nepal

Traveling Through The Years

Yeah, Another Blogger117 Comments

I’m not exactly sure when the urge to travel first hit me, but a good guess would be 1969. In the summer of that year, soon after graduating from college, I bumped into a childhood friend, Mike, whom I hadn’t seen in a long, long while. That encounter took place inside a restaurant in Roslyn, the Long Island town he and I had grown up in and to which we had returned when our collegiate careers reached their conclusions (Long Island is near New York City).

Mike and I immediately hit it off at the restaurant, to the extent that he asked me if I’d be interested in joining him on a road trip to Canada, which he was eager to embark on. With no employment plans, or any kind of plans in place, I said yes. Off we went, then, maybe a couple of weeks later, in Mike’s bright red Ford Mustang convertible. Our journey lasted for two weeks or so, I think. We got as far north as Canada’s Gaspé Peninsula, where we began the southward drive back to the States. Mike and I had a blast throughout our expedition. We’ve palled around regularly ever since that time, partly because, as fate would have it, we ended up living not far from each other in Pennsylvania, the state each of us moved to a few years after our Canadian journey. We remain Pennsylvanians and close friends.

Having been bitten by the travel bug, and still uncertain about what to do with my life employment-wise, I scratched the bug by exploring many states of the USA on two separate month-long occasions during the early 1970s. And in 1977, right before beginning what would become a lengthy career in government, I wandered through Europe for six weeks, accompanied by a backpack. With little money to my name — I specialized in low-paying, short-term jobs for a bunch of years — it’s somewhat amazing that I pulled off those three trips. These days, it probably would be next to impossible.

Yours truly on Kala Patthar in Nepal. Mount Everest is the tallest of the peaks behind me.
(November 19, 1982)

Well, I’ve maintained a pretty active travel schedule since then, spending significant amounts of time on foreign shores and also in a selection of American states. The most astonishing adventure I’ve ever had was a three-week hike, in 1982, through the Himalayas in Nepal. Sticking strictly to terrains on which mountaineering equipment (ropes, ice axes, etc.) was not needed, I and a couple more members of my small trekking group ultimately reached Kala Patthar. KP is an approximately 18,500-foot-high ridge almost within spitting distance of the world’s tallest structure, Mount Everest, whose tippy top is 29,032 feet above sea level. On Kala Patthar, with Everest and other monstrously elevated peaks staring me smack in the face, my mind was totally blown. I’d never experienced anything that majestic before, and haven’t equaled or topped it since. And there’s virtually no chance I will.

My wife Sandy wasn’t with me in Nepal, due to the irrefutable fact that we didn’t meet until 1990. But we’ve logged plenty of miles together since becoming a couple, both in the States and abroad. Many of those miles have been on Cape Cod, a 65-mile-long Massachusetts peninsula. I’ve written ad nauseum about the Cape in this publication, another irrefutable fact. That’s because Sandy and I have developed an intimate relationship with Cape Cod, something we never anticipated would happen with any travel destination. Cape Cod is blessed with unusually beautiful coastlines, tons of restaurants and a good arts scene, and it emits welcoming vibes. It is our soul mate. We have vacationed on the Cape almost annually since discovering it in 1998.

Sandy and I travelled quite a lot in 2025. Totally domestically, as all five of our destinations, which included Cape Cod and Maui, are parts of the States. Where might we find ourselves in 2026? Cape Cod is on the agenda once again. Beyond that, we don’t know. Getting to, and back home from, vacation spots wear us out more than it used to. Last year’s trips proved that to us emphatically. So, we shall see.

I’ll say this, though: Somewhere down the line it would be cool to return to Italy, where Sandy and I explored Venice, Florence and Rome in 2011. We’d like to see more of Italy, the Naples/Pompeii region, for instance.

And we would be thrilled to poke around any number of lands we never have set foot in. Spain is on that list, as is Portugal and Morocco and . . .

Plaza Blanca Knocked Our Socks Off: New Mexico, Part Two

Yeah, Another Blogger70 Comments

 

Sandy and Neil in Frijoles Canyon
Rio Grande Gorge

For the last few days I’ve been thinking about what I should include in the second installment about my recent adventures in sun-drenched New Mexico. Climbing up ladders attached to the sides of cliffs in Frijoles Canyon (part of Bandelier National Monument) — to reach niches within which indigenous peoples lived centuries ago — seemed a natural, as did viewing the deep and dangerous Rio Grande Gorge just outside of Taos village. But you know what? No more will I now say about those experiences, as excellent as they were, because wafts of inspiration caressed my face a little while ago. And, as I’ve learned over the last few years, one shouldn’t argue with inspiration. This story, therefore, shall be about Plaza Blanca.

Plaza Blanca

May 29, the last full day of my wife Sandy’s and my visit to New Mexico, found the two of us inside a Honda Accord being driven by my brother Richard. We were on our way from Santa Fe, where Richie lives with his wife Sara, to Abiquiu, an area famously known as the one-time home of the late, great painter Georgia O’Keeffe. Richie had printed out some information about the sights in the Abiquiu region and, 10 minutes into the journey, asked me to take a look. Scanning the pages I noticed a paragraph about Plaza Blanca (The White Place), described as unusually beautiful. “Hey, let’s go there,” I said. Nobody objected.

Luckily I found a website that provides precise driving directions to Plaza Blanca, because it’s not the easiest locale in the world to find. The final leg of the motorized segment of the journey was upon a dirt road. Expecting numerous ruts and holes, we were relieved to see almost none. Richie parked the car in Plaza Blanca’s small parking section. Then the three of us got out and looked around. From first glance we knew that we were in a special place.

We spent an hour hiking through Plaza Blanca, a masterful collection of rock formations not far from forested mountains. The sun was high in the sky, clouds were few, and the views, to employ a cliché, were awe-inspiring. I’ve gone limp now and then over the years from the beauty of what was in front of my eyes, but that hadn’t happened in a good long while. And, now that I think about it, I hadn’t been as stunned by a natural landscape or seascape since 1982. That was the year of my trek through the high Himalayas in Nepal, the one truly astonishing adventure of my life.

And I wasn’t the only one to gaze in wonder at Plaza Blanca’s cliffs and columns, or at its other wildly surreal sculptures. Sandy and Richie were as spellbound as me. We were in a stark fairyland where strange, beguiling shapes reigned supreme. The formations sat stoically, yet pleased with themselves. They knew that they are remarkable creations. I caught Richie staring unbelievingly at one vista, imperceptibly shaking his head and not quite knowing what to say except for the obvious: “This is incredible” were his words.


As for Sandy, she agreed when I suggested that Plaza Blanca likely was the most beautiful and fantastic landscape she’d ever set foot in. A compact expanse of desert, Plaza Blanca is where one might go to let the problems circulating within one’s head fade away for a bit of time. It’s where you likely will be able to engage undisturbedly with the powers of nature, since Plaza Blanca is off the beaten track compared to many other spectacular sites. Only two other souls crossed our paths as we made our way around. That was two too many, but it was far better than the hundreds you’d encounter at the Grand Canyon or at Yosemite.

A geologist I’m not, but from what I’ve been able to piece together, Plaza Blanca is the result of volcanic activity that took place roughly 20,000,000 million years ago, and of the subsequent effects of heavy erosion. Its cliffs and other structures are composed of varieties of sandstone and of other types of rocks. The place was drier than the driest bone the day that my trio was there. But I’ve read that flash floods sometimes develop during heavy rains, racing mightily between the giant pieces and with the potential to sweep incautious visitors away.

Georgie O’Keeffe, From The White Place. Image copyright: The Georgia O’Keeffe Foundation/Artists Rights Society, New York.

Georgia O’Keeffe was smitten with Plaza Blanca (as she was with much of New Mexico). She wandered around and painted in The White Place many times. Her desert homestead was about 15 miles away. I wouldn’t mind owning one of her renderings, From The White Place, pictured above, which she painted in 1940. It would look smashing on a wall beside my living room sofa. I doubt if the Phillips Collection in Washington D.C., where the painting is housed, plans to put it up for auction anytime soon. If they do, however, I’m ready to launch a Kickstarter campaign to raise the $20,000,000 or more that will be required to make it mine.

Sandy and Richie in Plaza Blanca

As I mentioned in my previous essay, staying very hydrated in New Mexico is the thing to do. The Sun there can be brutal. I’d been downing water conscientiously before arriving at Plaza Blanca and continued to do so during my hike on site, but there was no point in taking any unnecessary risks. My companions must have felt the same way. Without discussion we took our last looks at Plaza Blanca, immersing ourselves in its glory. And then we made our way out from between the art works and headed back to the car.

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(All photos are by Sandra Cherrey Scheinin, with three exceptions: Richard Scheinin took the photo of Sandy and me. I took the photo of Rio Grande Gorge and the one of Sandy and Richie.)