A very good friend of mine is a conservation biologist with a PhD emphasis in endangered species. In so saying she has many friends and knows people that have close ties to and specialize in Condors. In that the High Mountain Zendo I refer to is located in the habitat range of the Condors in the Sierras she has some of the people she knows check in on my overall well being from time to time --- water, nourishment, still alive, no broken legs, that sort of thing. They also know the Condors and I have a good mutual relationship with the Condors visiting me from time to time. The people who keep track of such things like me keep track of the Condors numbers (each Condor has a wing tag number) and their comings and goings --- which for me is spotty at best.
With winter coming on it was suggested I relocate out of the area, which I do anyway. If any of you have read the letter about me attributed to Jijimuge that appears on one of my websites, you may recall the two of us came across each other at Manzinar as I was coming down from the mountain. It is he who is responsible for Awakening 101 being on the web. He asked me who my teacher was and in discussion I mentioned that I had study-practiced at one time under Alfred Pulyan and that he taught through mail order. Jijimuge suggested I do the same, only using the internet.
The so-called High Mountain Zendo I speak of is not a structure as much as a place. My mentor used it for years and I sort of have followed through. It is actually a natural space, like a small cave that has a handmade pile or rocks forming a "C' shaped wall that protects the inside area from the prevailing winds and allows for a small fire for warmth and cooking. There is a log with a piece of canvas that can be put over the entrance and dropped to the ground if need be as well as it can get quite cold in the altitude and the winds quite strong. The Zendo is not on any major trail so it is seldom if ever stumbled upon --- although I have returned from long absences and found that it had been used.
In any case one of the Condor watching folk knew someone that lived in the Mount Charleston area of Nevada and made arrangements for the winter there as the winters a far less harsh than the Sierras. It worked out sort of OK. A little more populated than I find pleasant. The interesting thing for me was that on the mountain range facing the rising sun you can see the Las Vegas strip quite clearly in the distance both during the day and at night as it really isn't that far away. I strarted exploring along the range and found quite a nice spot some hiking distance south behind and high in the rocks above an old western town kind of place called Old Nevada. I went down there to get water and sometimes supplies on occasion. One day while I was there a Special Education class of several students was visiting the area. Old Nevada has a kind of zoo that is free and the staff had taken the students to see the animals. One of the students was in a wheelchair and he had been wheeled up to a pen that had a couple of wolves in it then staff continued on with some of the other students. When the other students were observing the wolves the wolves kept their distance.
However, the young man in the wheelchair did not seem to be aware of the wolves in a classical sense and had come very close to the fence. When I walked up the wolves came right up to the fence. Later I returned to my retreat in the rocks above Old Nevada and that night the wolves got out of their pen somehow and came up into the rocks to where I was. The next day it was discovered the wolves were gone and trackers went out hunting for them. They came across me with the wolves sunning themselves in the general area and someone recalled me being in the pen area the day before with the young man in the wheelchair. The accusation was that I had let them out somehow, which wasn't the case at all. However, I found it most expedient to make myself scarce, which I did.
Europe for six weeks plus, leaving the Condors and wolves behind. Next: Stonehenge, Pompeii, Acropolis, Running of the Bulls, Somerset Maugham's villa, Da Vinci's birthplace, statue of David and a friend in Cannes
the Wanderling