The Bumthang Dzongkhag comprises four valleys, although commonly the whole region is called the "Bumthang valley." The valley is cold, high, and windswept. Despite the difficult day-long trip from Punakha over agonizingly-potholed, serpentine roads that hug the sides of Himalayan cliffs, Bumthang offers the best opportunity to visit temples and monastaries hardly touched by the passage of time.

Bumthang is also the most isolated place I've ever been. Three days' drive from the nearest airstrip, then five flights from that airport to home in Chicago, Bumthang is one of those cold, isolated places that tests the resolve of locals and visitors alike, but rewards them with a rich culture not seen anywhere else in the world.

In Bumthang, I ran into 23 members of the Hong Kong Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society, a loud but unbelievably-friendly group of Hong Kong expats who were eager to share some local after-dinner pear brandy (available locally for Rs 50 or USD1). I was also chided for wearing my Enron shirt, which I received when I had a job offer from the imfamous firm. "You've come all this way thinking nobody would know what Enron is, and then you meet us!" I was told. Anyone in Hong Kong should consider joining the RAS--a great group of people.

To reach all of this in Bumthang, however, requires crossing Yotong La at 11,234 ft, which is where these pictures begin.

Two small shops along the highway in Zungney (elev 9350 ft) sell yathra, long strips of wollen fabric with brightly colored geometric patterns. The yathra is hand-spun and hand-woven of Tibetan wool, although today some is imported from New Zealand and some is raised locally.

I bought two lengths, roughly 9 ft and 15 ft long and 2 feet wide, for $55 total, without haggling. (There's no need to haggle much because prices are relatively firm throughout the country, except in the weekend markets.) Shown is the first shop, whose yathra tends to be on lighter background. The second shop (going towards Jakar) has yathra on darker black and purple backgrounds. The woman standing at the door, the shopkeeper, speaks some English but your guide can make sure you understand. The shop has a few weavers on display in front, but, unlike India or China, you won't be given a pathetic high-pressure sales pitch as someone "explains" how the fabric is woven. (One can only wonder how long Bhutan will last in this blissful virgin state.)

Yathra is half as expensive in Bumthang relative to Thimpu. A single length of yathra runs $60 at the government-run shop in Thimpu.

As a most bitter cold wind sweeps across the valley at 4PM, the yathra keeps many-a-Bumthang resident warm. Don't forget a warm coat.

Also keeping many-a-Bumthang resident warm is the bukhari, a wooden stove that greeted me in my hotel room at the Mountain Lodge. A room attendant can light the stove, although it's wise to watch and learn if you wish to stay warm. The trick to staying warm with a bukhari is to light the stove early in the evening and keep it going till bedtime, at which time you should stuff the thing full of wood. The rocks on top will still be warm in the morning.

The bukhari has other uses, most notably clothes dryer. By the time you get to Bumthang, your clothes will be dirty (with that 20 kg limit on Druk Air), and they will dry within minutes if washed in the shower and hung on the back of a chair an inch from the warm bukhari.

The owner of this hotel happens also to own the local bukhari-making concern, but note that Bumthang's electric supply is particularly erratic, being driven solely by a tiny hydro plant visible alongside the highway. Therefore, electric heaters just aren't practical. For that same reason, bring a torch and enjoy showering by candlelight. The lights do not come on until dinnertime, and they go back off when the generator is shut down after dinner is finished. Get used to it and enjoy the candle strategically located in your room.

Inside the lhakhang are several buildings of various significance. The primary temple is closed to all visitors, but practically the "closure" is at the discretion of the caretaker monk. Don't expect to be granted admission, but if you're lucky, you'll find that the inside of the temple is rather similar to other temples: a collection of statues of various gods, auspicious symbols, yak-butter lamps, small Bhutanese paper bank notes (offerings), and burning incense. The altars may seem quite dingy, but bear in mind that this temple was built almost 1350 years ago, and a millenia of burning incense takes its toll.

A small offering will earn you the maroon-clad monk's blessing of holy water, and he will show you the unique feature of this temple: a set of three steps representing past, present, and future. The past step is sunk into the ground and covered by the floor, while the present step is at floor level. When the future step sinks to the level of the present, the world will end. (Fortunately, the step has a ways to sink still.)

Outside are several chorten and prayer wheels. In the parking area is a pile of boulders, representing the guardians of the four directions, who you will see painted on the dzongs and goembas in many places..

My guide had never been in this temple in his seven years as a guide, as it is closed to all visitors. Again, this "closure" is at the discretion of the caretaker and his appetite to entertain bratty MTV-generation foreigners like me.

The present structure, Chakhar Lhakhang, was built sometime in the 1300s. Previously, the site had been a palace of the Indian king Sindhu Raja, who invited Guru Rinpoche to Bhutan in the 8th century. (Guru Rinpoche, who introduced Buddhism to Bhutan, also visited Jampa Lhakhang.) The original structure was nine storeys tall and was said to contain all the treasures of the world.

Climbing a wooden ladder to the second floor reveals a chapel with a large statue of Guru Rinpoche. Dozens of brightly-painted masks, many with crowns of small skulls, hang from the rafters for use in an annual ritual. Again, a small offering earns the caretaker's blessing; don't ask the guide to spot you a few. My guide and driver had a long conversation with the caretaker about the temple, but when I asked them what was aid, they said, "we could not understand a word he said. He spoke through his nose and we just kept agreeing so that we wouldn't seem rude."

If a visitor wishes access to these temples, his best bet is to travel alone, in the off-season, on a quiet morning. It also helps to demonstrate to the guide that you're a nice guy who can be trusted inside a house of worship. After all, you don't invite every foreigner you meet to pray in your church.