Part 2 - Bobbie

We start the trek slowly. I feel the altitude right away and it’s only 5-6,000 ft. My heart is beating faster than I’d like, right from the get go. But these are mountain men I’m with, born and raised here. They start slow; there’s no energy wasted. I’m doing fine, but I’m nervous, I’m honestly not in peak condition, but I’m determined. I pull myself out of psychological debate and start to look around.

It’s beautiful forest needless to say. Do people do treks that aren’t beautiful? Pine trees, meadows, small villages and an amazing temple that I’m not allowed in (due to the caste system, not my gender!) but apparently it’s all gold inside.

There are 5 concrete rest houses along the way to the mountaintop temple. Up to the first one is gently rolling meadow with various animals grazing, idyllic scenes. At rest house 1, the climb begins and it’s steep. At rest house 2, the incline increases. I find myself looking up at the trail and it’s straight up. Every time I look up there’s more straight up. The closest I can describe it to is Yosemite without switchbacks at a higher elevation. But despite rumors of thigh high snow, we still haven’t seen any. In my mind that’s the turn around point, but there’s also time considerations. We agree to turn back at 2:30, but no one is paying much attention to the clock, so I don’t either. Finally we see the first patches of snow just before the 3rd rest station where we stop for a discussion. It’s 3pm and it’s been a vigorous and enjoyable hike for me. I’m sad to turn around, but ready. So I’m completely surprised when the guys ask me – What do you want to do now? Continue to the top? First I think they’re joking, we’ve never discussed nor prepared for an overnight, but no, they’re quite serious and furthermore, it’s actually and truly my choice. They will not even say what they want to do.

My brother remembers my classic line from hikes we’d take with my Dad – just around the corner, please, can we just see what’s around the corner. I’ve never in my life been the one to say it’s time to turn back and I’ve never yet had anyone willing to test my limits. I literally can’t believe this is happening. It’s my choice? I decide? But I still really think we’re turning around, so I play a bluff. If I say yes, do you really want to keep going? I look at them, right in the eyes, one at a time, and each one says yes, I want to keep going. At that moment, I understand, this is Chudhar, a very special trek to a very special place and they love this trek, love this temple in their bones, in their being. They’re this far, yes, they want to continue. But it’s my choice.

Whoa! I’ve not saved my energy, I’ve never hiked in snow before, it’s 3 pm and we’re only ½ way with altitude increases I’m not used to and I don’t have additional warm things or even a toothbrush. Plus what I don’t know is that the steepest part is yet to come.

So of course I say YES! Yes, yes, yes, let’s go! And we start, but now we pick up the pace.

Let me just say I was immediately and totally step by step challenged. This is not an easy hike. I’d been walking and talking mostly with Bobbie, the only English speaker of the group and now I need his help. Luckily for me, he’s a pro, actually winning a state award as some kind of best trekker. He gives me a hand over the big rocks and makes sure I don’t slip on the snow. By now I’m conserving every bit of energy I can, the camera’s put away and I force myself not to talk, not to ask all the burning questions I always have. I’m completely focused on foot placement and keeping up the pace and breathing. We stop and I say feel my hand – it’s icy. Bobbie puts my hand in his pocket and while he holds and warms it, he’s keeping me on the path. He walks in the deep snow next to me. I know it’s hard what he’s doing, but I need the help. My other hand starts to freeze and we switch sides. I also have to add I’m quite enjoying this. As sexy as he is, it’s really fun that his help is so necessary. Mostly he’s quiet but then when my hand is frighteningly cold, he says low in my ear, I’ll warm you. I’ll wake up early, go out and get some exercise to heat my body and come back and warm you. Sounds good to me! But then maybe I’m enjoying too much and I tell him, I’m OK now. I can walk on my own and I try a step and start to slide and he grabs me and I suddenly wonder – am I actually walking on my own or is he pulling me up the mountain? He knows exactly, precisely the amount of help to give, not more, not less. He’s so perfect he makes me feel capable, though I don’t know if I would’ve made it without his help. From stations 3 to 5, it’s incredibly steep and slippery and there’s not much visible trail and the sun’s going down and a light snow is starting to fall, but now I’m beyond worry – there’s only complete concentration and holding Bobbie’s hand.

Then suddenly we’re at station 5, we get the first sighting of the temple and I can see the incline is not as extreme. We’ve made good time, we get a 15 minute rest and the pace eases to the top, allowing us to arrive with the last rays of the sun. I made it!!!!!

The temple is amazing. Actually it’s a big beautiful wooden building housing a little tiny temple inside, an ancient one, perhaps more than 6000 years old. We take off shoes and I touch my head to the ground with reverence and peer in. It has a naturally occurring Shiva lingam (very rare and very powerful) and there’s also a beautiful solid gold Durga tucked away in a corner. The energy was very strong, but I was, unfortunately, a little too cold and too tired to take full appreciation. After a short puja, we are led into the priest’s house where we spend the rest of the evening. I don’t know what would’ve happened if the priest hadn’t been there. Everything was locked. But he was and he was friendly and we had a great time. The guys had fun joking with me, first saying there was no food, only chai and as I’m accepting that they show me the kitchen in which they proceed to make a fresh delicious rice and dhal meal. Then they tell me we’re sleeping on the stone floor which again I believe to find out later that we’re being put in the VIP room and we have all the blankets and comforters we could ever need. Did they know how any of this would turn out? I don’t think so. We all agreed it was a very lucky trip and on the full moon no less.

For those of more prurient interests, I have to say that the last thing Bobbie said to me, as we were settling down to sleep next to each other was – you are safe with me. And I was. So later as the stories about Bobbie started rolling in, I both knew they were true and also knew that I’d experienced something, well, perfect.

Bobbie told me that he’d killed a tiger with a stick. He may be the only person I’ve ever met that I totally believe it to be true, even if it’s a lie. He told me about winning trekking and farming awards and these he later showed me. He’s kind of the unacknowledged leader type, never the actual leader though he’s the one who speaks English and the one who puts the spices in the dhal after all the prep work’s been completed by others. He’s tall and rangy, extremely thin, but radiating power and sexuality with I suspect some black magick thrown in. That’s unconfirmed but I don’t need to know. I feel things in India. I feel the energy in the sacred places, I feel the gods here. That Bobbie is dangerous is immediately apparent, it pours out of his eyes but so do a lot of other things. Though no one ever said anything directly, there were great efforts taken to keep me away from being with Bobbie. And very clever maneuvering on his part, to have me where he wanted me. Once down the mountain, I became the hunted one. He’d keep me in his sights and at just the right moment sneak into where I was staying and whisk me off before it could be prevented. And all that he wanted was for me to come to his house and meet his family, well maybe not quite, but this was the focus.

So what did I see in Bobbie’s house? A devoted father, adoring of his 2 beautiful boys, a lovely, but perhaps resigned wife and his mother who welcomed me with open arms and fixed delicious organic greens for me. Life is not simple. The Bobbie that Bobbie wanted to show me was all goodness and light, but I kept remembering the story of the scorpion that has no choice but to act from his nature. Why that story? Why was I so drawn to this person who was so easy to talk to and so understanding and so dark, not negative, not evil, but dark. Dark and talented and fascinating and smart. And I’m becoming secretly obsessed with the whole thing.

It took over a week for Bobbie to pull off my short stay at his house, so then it was show and tell time. First his paintings. Brilliant – of uniquely imaginary landscapes, looking real and yet not like anything that exists. He showed me his family heirlooms because he too is another grandson of the King. He showed me his gardens and we talked about organics and the environment. He knows a lot about all this stuff, permaculture, the pesticide levels in apples, grafting – very impressive, but later I feel clearly designed for me. Can genuine interest be a manipulative tool and if so, isn’t that part and parcel anyhow?

He showed me his photos. There are photos that will probably be in my mind’s eye for the rest of my life. These are real mountain men I’m hanging out with and Bobbie’s cream of the crop. At one point he’s the chosen heir of a great climber, someone who’s done Everest 3 times and more high peaks than I even know of. There is one picture of this man with his arm around Bobbie. There’s an expression on the man’s face I’ve never seen before, it’s like I’m looking at someone who’s free, who understands, who is. I look at the picture and I know there’s more for me in these mountains, more in life. I look at the picture and recognize something beyond my own experiences, but I can see it. I remember having the question on the trek – is one closer to God at higher elevations? In the Himalayas? It can’t possibly be true, but maybe one’s receptivity is heightened.

I know what I saw in the picture, I saw Self. There was no ego in that man’s eyes, the high mountains had taken that from him; there was presence.

Do I imagine all these things? But what does that question even do but block one’s sensitivity and create doubt. The other day I’m questioning something with Kaushal – something’s actually happening and I’m asking how is it possible. He simply says – why doubt? I’m continuing to ponder that one. Because I’m an American? Oooops, wrong direction.

Why doubt?

Bobbie had told me many stories of leading treks, of carrying big men with broken bones up and down the mountainside. Now I was viewing a photo of a rescue Bobbie had made. They were on a high rigorous trek and during the night a crack had opened and a Russian couple in their tent had fallen into a 200 ft crevasse. There was Bobbie, in full gear and roped in, going into the hole. Even in the small photo, dominated by ice, there were those eyes. I’m alive, I’m ready, I was born for this moment.

So that’s the story. I meet this guy and I’m as intrigued as hell. And also irritated with myself. What is it with the bad boys? I’m here for sadhana, my practice, I confess this little situation did not help my spiritual concentration, but what the hell does that mean anyhow? We get what we need and clearly I need to explore these light dark issues. I don’t want to be afraid of the black magick and its power nor do I want to be a moth to the flame. And here the story jumps into the bigger questions and all that the lovely, complex, confusing, mysterious and sexy Bobbie engendered. But then I’d need to write about Lord Shiva and I’m not sure I can or should at this moment. Let me just leave things with – life’s very good! And certainly interesting! And fun! But with feet on the ground, so help me God.

p.s. After I posted this I thought it's awfully anticlimactic, furthermore what's here is honest, but all is not included, particularly that which I've still not fully digested. But the writing of this post was cathartic and completing it has freed me. Bobbie went back to Dubai and we've exchanged a couple of very sweet emails. Meanwhile, being in India, the next gigantic things were about to happen. (About which I never got into the computer, so we now skip a couple of chapters which unlike a novel will never be missed).