Over the last year I have not been able to write to each of you but I did promise to stay in touch. So I sat down and wrote this letter to each of you. I have seen, experienced and learned much about myself and this beautiful country of ours.

When I left KC on February 21, 1990, I did not realize how much of myself I was leaving behind. Not just a house and friends, but a way of life. I had ten days to get to Salt Lake City. First I traveled south to Arkansas.

My first stop was Eureka Springs where I hoped to see a friend of mine, Alice. During my visit with her she told how Elvis had been coming to her and demanding that she write his book. Of course she was skeptical, but everything he told her came to pass. She had given up her real estate business in KC and moved to Eureka Springs upon Elvis' word that all would be provided. By the time I arrived she had finished the book and was looking for a publisher.

I spent a very interesting afternoon with her and then took my leave for Devil's Den State Park south of Fayetteville. Upon my arrival in Arkansas the weather had turned cold, but at least on the second day the sun came out.

I spent the next three days hiking the trails. It was strange to see all those trees with no leaves. The entire forest lay naked to my gaze. I felt almost a voyeur. During hikes I stayed warm in my van thanks to an electric heater and I watched movies on my VCR. I did not leave ALL of civilization behind. I had brought a TV, VCR and computer to while away the inevitable rainy days I would encounter. I had camped in Arkansas before so the fact that I no longer had a home had not yet sunk in.

When I left Arkansas I headed for Tulsa, OK to visit a friend, Cat Sherrow, who would return to Tulsa that afternoon. Ironically, she returned from KC. I arrived in Tulsa to a 70 degree day. After an extremely pleasant evening visit with Cat I headed West the next morning into a cold front and rainstorm that turned to light snow before it ended. I had decided to go to Salt Lake City by way of the southern route so I could have warm weather on my trip. I did not know ahead of time that cold weather would dog my heels until I got to SLC and that the trip would take an extra 600 miles. So much for intelligent planning!

I couldn't find a campground for less than 16 bucks in Holbrook, AZ so I got a motel for $20. But other than that I intended to camp. My funds wouldn't last very long if I didn't disdain most luxuries. I arrived in SLC (actually Mtn. Green, just southeast of Ogden) late on the day of my expected arrival.

The engine of my recently purchased 1983 Ford van smoked (I guess it hadn't read the Surgeon General's 1964 warning) and burned about one quart of oil per thousand miles. A mechanic in KC told me it would take several hundred dollars to repair, so I decided to take my chances with an engine fire. I really didn't think a fire was in my cards. By the time I got to Mtn. Green, I was tired of worrying about my van. I put my Spirit Guides (Guardian Angels) in charge of keeping my van running and especially in charge of the smoking engine. Well. The engine stopped smoking and used only one quart of oil in the next 18,000 miles. Miracles DO occur!

I had come to Utah to ski with my hero and buddy, Bill Bauman. Sure enough, we hit the slopes the next two days. On the first day Bill issued another of his infamous "trust me" edicts when he told me he knew a shortcut to the next slope. All we had to do was ski across a parking lot. Being the trusting Soul that I am, I smiled, drooled and said Okay. What he hadn't told me was that the snow had been melting and the parking lot was now a big lake. Part of the way through I had to take of my skis and wade through six inches of water. This "lesson from the Master" had taken thirty minutes. One of many I have learned from my great friend.

From Utah I went to Portland, OR to visit another friend. It took two days of driving across more of the Great American Desert to reach the rainforests of the West coast. I hit Portland on March 10 and stayed until "March Madness" was over. I had not anticipated staying that long, but enjoyed the warm welcome of Anna Jane. Warm and unusually dry weather greeted me in Portland and I smiled warmly back.

Portland is the City of Roses and is very pretty. It is between the Coastal and Cascade mountain ranges and has a temperate climate. It is warm and wet in the winter and cool and dry in the summer. It is a clean city and very environmentally conscious. Flowers in multiple colors abound everywhere . The Willamette River flows into the Columbia River at Portland, which is still sixty miles from the Pacific Ocean. The Willamette flows through downtown and has several miles of parkland bordering it. It is very pretty. The energy of Portland is very open and the people like to spend time outdoors.

I spent much time hiking in the 175 acre Hoyt Arboretum just west of downtown. I found that if I walked a twenty minute mile pace rather than my usual 15 minute mile pace that I went into a reflective/meditative state. I spent my three weeks in Portland hiking and going over in my mind every relationship I have ever had; with friends, relatives and business associates. I came to an understanding of each relationship, tied it into a neat little knot and let it go. This opened me up for a lot of my later experiences.

After UNLV trounced Duke to win the NCAA championship, I took my leave of the City of Roses and sweet Anna Jane. I was somewhat hesitant because I knew that now I was really leaving civilization behind and heading out into the wilderness and I didn't know when I would be back. My first stop was Beverly Beach State Park on the coast. This was a nice park but a steady wind from the ocean kept it cool. One evening I watched as the sun set from a totally clear sky into the ocean. As it nestled against the horizon, it seemed to fade as though someone had turned down the dimmer switch. Slowly I watched my shadow disappear. Then the sun sliced its way into the ocean. I never did see any steam.

Three days of this and I decided I had better catch some of that 70 degree temperatures which the inland was experiencing. So I drove to another state park thirty miles south of Portland. This one was called Champoeg (shampooee). I don't mind always mispronouncing these names but I wish the locals wouldn't laugh at me so much. I try my best. This was a park on the banks of the Willamette River. There were trails, day use areas, and green grassy fields. I hiked, sat in the sun and read. I had probably the best weather of my whole trip the ten days I stayed here. I was about to change campgrounds when I met Arvin Bell.

I was going into town to do laundry when a big grin attached to this six foot three inch 350 pound black man waved me down to ask me some question. I had just met Arvin. We became best buddies during the next three days. We hung out together and talked during the days and watched double header movies each night.

Arvin was worth the price of admission. He is a gentle Star Being who told me his life story over the next three days. He left home for good at thirteen. His mom beat him regularly because the Bible told her to. One night before he went to bed his mom told him to expect a beating before the night was through because the Bible told her that to spare the rod was to spoil the child. Sure enough, he awoke in the middle of the night to find his mother beating him with a stick. The next morning he packed up and left home.

He has lived in Florida, Alaska, Hawaii and points in between. He has been married once and has four blond haired children with two women, even though Arvin is very dark. He owned restaurants in Alaska and Hawaii. In 1982 he was audited by the IRS and had to pay a lot of money. So he paid and then dropped out of society. Since then when he needs money he unloads long distance moving vans which pays cash. He was looking for work when I met him and wanted to save enough money to move to Australia. He has no home and lived in a cabin tent with his dog Conan, big enough to have been named after the barbarian but was named after Arthur Conan Doyle.

Arvin is a big friendly oaf who wouldn't hurt a fly. I watched for three days as he drew people to him to talk and visit. Many of these people would give him things; extra food, clothing, firewood, anything they didn't need they would give to Arvin. Even I found myself giving him all the food I didn't think I would eat which I found still in my cupboard when I left KC. Whatever he needed just seemed to materialize.

He told me that people weren't always this friendly, sometimes even little old ladies in these small towns would cross the street to avoid him and then yell at him, "Nigger, go home." He said to me, "Jim, these people really don't mean it. They are just ignorant.
So I just smile at them and wave and then just go about my business."

Three days of Arvin and I decided I had better get back into my solitude, which was the theme of my trip and that which I continually sought out. In a very foggy light rain I left for Silver Falls State Park. There followed ten days of intermittent light rain showers interspersed with sunny skies. While it rained each of those ten days, the sun came out for at least an hour or so, also.

Silver Falls Park is named for the ten waterfalls you can see along a seven mile trail, ranging from 31 to 178 feet. During my four days here I hiked all seven miles a couple times and saw each of those falls. It was awesome. I hiked down a valley so deep I could not see the sun. And then came to a falls that dropped off well over a hundred feet. It was as if the earth had flowed downstream and then just dropped off the face of itself. Extreme natural beauty can be found along those streams.

I began thinking that White Man had only been there to see it for a hundred years or so. Before that the Native Americans for maybe 25,000 years max. But it had been there for hundreds of millions of years before Man had been there to appreciate it. I thought maybe the animals saw it and could appreciate it on some level. Then I realized that the Spirit whose body is the Earth was in a process of Creative Self Expression and didn't need anybody to see and appreciate it. It was totally enough to merely express Its inherent beauty and It needed nothing and no one else to give it meaning.

I continued to camp and explore in southern Oregon until the end of April. The western third of Oregon is truly beautiful with its lofty tree covered mountains and green, fertile valleys. I took a day trip to Crater Lake National Park. It was pretty but still covered with several feet of snow. Their annual snowfall is 550 inches, just shy of fifty feet of snow. Spring doesn't come to this part of the world until mid July.

On the last day of April I drove over a mountainous ridge and crossed into California. In the space of twenty miles I passed from rain forest into mountain desert. Such a stark change. This part of the country was in the fourth year of a severe drought with not much snow to melt which is the source of most of their water. I visited a Corps of Engineer lake called Shasta Lake. This was 50-60 feet below normal level, approximately 10-15% of normal capacity. I looked down on what was left of the lake and instead of a vast area of lake surface I saw red hills, like the boat dock of a marina, which should have been at the bottom of the lake but because of the drought had become exposed to view. It looked like a painting of some post-Armageddon lake.

My destination was the exalted peak of Mt. Shasta. This is a very spiritual place and said to be home for the Ascended Masters. The city of Mt. Shasta is at the base of the mountain. It has a population of 3,000 which has doubled in the last ten years. The city boasts of a New Age bookstore, a crystal shop, a health food store and a health food restaurant.

I alternately spent my nights camped on Mt. Shasta at about 6000 feet and in a private campground where I could get heat at night and a shower in the morning. On the mountain at 6000 feet, the nights were below freezing and I was not prepared for such cold nights but did want the experience of living on the mountain.

I hiked as many trails as I could find not covered by snow. Right next to a snow drift were several inches of dry, dusty soil. Mt. Shasta is a volcano which last erupted 200 years ago, so the soil is extremely sandy and porous. The snowmelt sank into the earth until it hit bedrock and then trickled its way downhill. The head of the Sacramento River springs from the earth in the city park in Mt. Shasta City.

I kept hiking up the mountain as far as I could go hoping to find one of those Ascended Masters but they must have heard me coming as they were nowhere to be found. At the bookstore I had purchased a book purporting to be a biography of someone who had contacted the Ascended Masters on Mt. Shasta and had many wonderful experiences. One story in the book detailed that some Indians had ambushed and killed soldiers who were transporting a shipment of gold. Since gold had no value to the Indians, they buried it and it has not been found. I wasn't believing this book much when I went to the restroom to rest my kidneys and this guy comes to the urinal next to me and starts telling me the story of the Indians who ambushed the soldiers and buried the gold. I don't know what the Universe was trying to tell me, but I had to laugh.

I came to a great understanding of how nature breaks down mountain rock there. The pine trees have very shallow roots and can grab a foothold in minimal soil. The roots seek any small crack in the rock and grow through them and further break up the rock. The trees shed needles and pine cones which rot and create soil. The trees die, fall down and rot with the help of my household enemies, the carpenter ants. I finally realized that there is a purpose for them other than to attack the innards of my house. One night I camped next to the 100 foot rotting corpse of a long dead pine tree. As I stared at it the picture I just described came to mind.

I never pick up hitchhikers, mainly because I don't want to talk or listen to somebody I just picked up off the streets. But one afternoon I was coming down the only road off of Mt. Shasta when I saw a hitchhiker. Since I knew I was his only hope as there were no other cars above me on the road I picked him up. In the next several days I was to pick him up many times.

His name was John and he looked to be about thirty. He had a degree in architecture and had worked for a firm before he had come to Mt. Shasta. He had been an engineer in the army before that. He had lived on Mt. Shasta for the past five years, ever since his Dad had told him about the place. They both loved mountains. John had no tent, just a plastic cover he used during rain and snow storms. He moved up the mountain in the summer and down it in the winter. Mt. Shasta is located in a national forest and you can camp anywhere in a national forest.

He owned only what he could carry on his back. From the looks of him he neither ate nor bathed very often. He played the flute and the drum beautifully, but said that he never played for money because the Spirit who played through him was not a crowd pleaser. He played at his campsite for God, himself and whomever else wanted to stop by. He didn't deal in money. He got his water free from a store in town, about four miles from where he was camped when I met him. He said that he was never in town and hungry that somebody didn't offer to buy him a meal. He said he had become intimately familiar with the back end of a mosquito and only objected if they came back for thirds. He did tell me that he occasionally made some jewelry which he sold to make the little money he needed for essentials. The day before I left I gave him a bag of about 200 finger tip sized crystals and he in return gave me a handwoven wristband which he took off his wrist. It remains in my medicine bag.

A few days before I had gone to Crater Lake I had written to Bill Bauman, whom I consider a Spiritual Master and inspiration to us all, outlining several years predictions by various psychics that I would soon "come into my own". The times on all of these predictions had come and gone and I was wondering if I was wasting my time and money. I told him I would be coming through his town on my way back to KC in mid May and by God I wanted an answer to my question.

So on May 11, I began my journey back to KC for a visit. There were no roads from northern California to SLC, so I had to go south through the California mountains to Reno, Nevada to catch I-80. My route lay through Mt. Lassen National Park where I stayed for a couple of days. It was too snow covered to explore thoroughly but I did take time to discover the volcanic hot springs amidst the snow. South of Mt. Lassen I drove through some more beautiful country, taking five days to get to SLC.

As I drove through the desert of Nevada and the salt flats of Utah I was surprised to find myself appreciating the stark beauty of such an arid setting. On my trip out there in February all I could see was that it was too dry to support human life. Now that was a given but I could also appreciate the simple beauty of the self expression of the Earth. Viewing nature had taken on a whole new dimension for me.

After three days in SLC I left for KC. When I hit western Kansas I was amazed at how green everything was. While I was in the arid Northwest, it had been raining heavily in the Midwest giving the wheat farmers at least a respite from the drought of the previous two years. It was also nice to see grass again which I hadn't seen since I had left Portland. I came back on I-70 from its inception in western Utah all the way to KC. My van had some trouble getting across that 10,000 foot pass in central Colorado, chugging full out at twenty miles per hour. I have know driven the entire length of I-70. (That only has meaning to me because in 1972 my roommate, Ralph, and I decided to drive to California on vacation via I-70. We had no map and did not realize that I-70 stopped at Denver at that time. For five days we took any road, paved or otherwise, that went west.)

I spent a wonderful week in KC visiting good friends and enjoying indoor plumbing. What a marvelous invention! Did you know that 105 years ago a Manhattan plumber named John Crapper invented the flush toilet? Well, now you do. Too bad all the trivia that I know isn't the answer to a game question.

Next followed a week in Arkansas which was still under water at the time of my visit. Some of the roads were flooded and I had to detour around them. It was stiflingly humid there and Arkansas is no longer my favorite state because of that steamy experience. I did dig crystals there one day. I was careful to put sunscreen on my shoulders before I took my shirt off on that one sunny day. Unfortunately I forgot that I bent over most of the time as I dug for the crystals and the lower two thirds of my back was burned to a crisp. This proves that you can live 43 years and still be incredibly stupid.

I went back to KC to attend the Bill Bauman seminar the first week in June. There is no other place I can go and see so many of my friends. It was personally interesting to interact with them and have them reflect back to me how much I had changed. I felt different, too. I felt very calm, centered and unshakably in my own space. I had gone off into the wilderness to shed the veneers of civilization and whatever left I assumed was me. I still bathed regularly, shaved occasionally and picked my nose only in private, but other than that there wasn't much left that wasn't me.

I had spent way too much money and when I left KC the middle of June I found that I had enough for 45 days at the rate I had been spending it. I decided to go to Wyoming and northern Colorado, wait for my money to run out and then decide what to do. In Wyoming I was plagued with mice in my van, mosquitoes, sunburn and ticks. And on my second day there.... It was pretty country. I camped just west of Cheyenne at 6700 feet and not a mountain in sight, just rolling, grassy, treeless plains. I had taken my motorcycle with me this time and quickly put a few miles on it.

I also discovered National Forests in some detail while I was there. There are dirt roads that go everywhere in the forests, which are usually on mountains. I could walk down these roads and see many different colors of wildflowers. I was excited and could not wait for morning so I could get up and explore. I had not experienced anything like this since I was a kid. That is when the ticks hit and I decided nature was a dangerous place. I figured I was supposed to be somewhere else.

The Grand Tetons were calling me, so I packed up camp and set out for the hills. Halfway there I crossed the Continental Divide at about 9500 feet. Then over the next hill was the awesome sight of the Tetons, rising 7000 feet straight up from the plain below them. On the eastern slope there are no foothills, just 7000 feet of sheer rock. I camped a few miles out of the Teton National Park and explored the Park on my motorcycle. The deer, moose, elk and other wildlife were abundant. Jackson Lake, which takes up a large part of the Park, was radiant in its pristine beauty. Between the Tetons and the mountains where the Continental Divide is, is a large flat plain called Jackson Hole. Through it run several major rivers which have their beginnings in either Teton or Yellowstone Parks. In the Park on Overlook Mountain you can look down on Jackson Lake on one side, look up to the Tetons on another, and down upon the Buffalo River valley carving its little canyon through the plain of Jackson Hole. It is truly an inspiring place.

The Wyoming state bird is the mosquito and after getting at least ten bites every time I left the van to use the outhouse (Oh, excuse me, they are called either vault or pit toilets; I assume named after Mr Vault or Mr Pit. I guess Mr Out lost out.) I figured there are better places to be. The state animal is the grasshopper. There must have been a thousand of them per square foot, most of them babies. Those little buggers were so excited to be alive and not an egg any more that they would jump up and land on their butts, roll over a few times and as soon as they had their legs under them they would jump again, usually not in the same direction as the previous time. It was quite humorous to see them jumping, rolling in total disarray and jumping again with no sense of direction whatsoever. As I walked amongst them it appear

I was not yet through playing in the area so I went thirty miles back east to a higher elevation away from the water and the mosquito. This was a forest service campground whose water supply pipes had frozen over the winter and had not been repaired so there was no charge to camp there. The outhouse worked so I was set. The nearest water was thirty miles away back at the campground which I had just left. I trucked it in four gallons at a time on my motorcycle.

I stayed at this camp for ten days. The KC Royals were mired in last place but I was blissfully ignorant of their shortcomings because the nearest newspaper was farther away than water. There were some gorgeously eroded mountain peaks surrounding the campground and among them was a very remote and pretty snowmelt lake. Out of this lake flowed a stream which, several miles later, flowed adjacent to the campground. The campground, Falls, was named for the falls from this stream which spewed down a steep canyon one hundred feet from my campsite. It was an amazing sight to see that placid little stream gouging out that canyon. I took several pictures of it from different angles, but two dimensionally it looks like a large pothole. Outdoor photography is not one of my talents. After a while I gave up taking pictures and bought postcards.

I continued to hike in the area of the campground and to explore the Tetons on my motorcycle. While in Cheyenne I had bought a solar heated five gallon camper shower and then my camping experience was complete. (I had already had to poop in the woods in Mt Lassen National Park in mid May.) It was a crude but effective and relished way to come clean. In early July I decided to leave although I wasn't sure where I wanted to go. I made a huge circle, driving 250 miles and ended up 50 miles from where I started. Every hour my plans shifted. The next day I found myself angling toward Mtn. Green.

That evening I called Bill from Logan, about an hour's drive away. He said come on down. So I did. Already entrenched in his house were two women I knew, Annette and Rae. I was not in a social way so I hiked for hours every day in the mountains north of Bill's house. Annette, Rae and bill's wife, Donna, soon learned I wasn't coherent until at least 11:00 and they were nice enough to leave me alone. Since the extra bedroom was already taken, I slept in my van in their driveway. They live in a rural setting on three acres of land on a hill, so I had plenty of privacy.

Since my money was about gone I went on a wonderful four hour hike up and along a mountain ridge east and north of Ogden. I was trying to decide what to do with the rest of my life. I had no idea what to do with the rest of my life so I focused on the next six months. I decided I would like to hole up some place and write a book about my experiences. All I needed was $10,000 and I would be set. There was just that one problem. Therefore you are getting the cliff note version many months later.

The day I left KC in June, I read a hot letter from Anna Jane in Portland telling she couldn't wait until I got back to Portland. She now had a female roommate whom I had met in March and it was okay with her if I came to visit for a while. I was hoping to be able to stay with them until I could find work.

After ten days of hanging out in Mtn. Green I left for the West Coast. Before I went to Portland I wanted to spend a few days with some friends in Zillah, in south central WA. Sharon had been my friend and massage therapist in the early eighties. She was a fellow Aquarian and I felt we could talk and understand each other. This I valued very highly. In about 1984 she met Mike at a Tai Chi camp in Colorado and shortly thereafter moved to Zillah to live with him on his family's orchard. I wasn't sure I wanted to forgive Mike for this but there wasn't anything I could do.

They were married on July 5, 1986 and I flew out to WA. for the wedding. I hadn't seen them since, although I had stayed in touch. I arrived in Zillah on a Thursday night for a long weekend. The weather cooperated and was not too hot and the nights were cool. I had a wonderful time with them and got to know Mike. They are so happy with each other I totally forgave Mike for stealing Sharon from KC.

I watched their relationship that weekend and marveled at the ease with which it flowed. Mike basically worked in the orchard and Sharon took care of the house but each was ready to help or do for the other. From my limited understanding of Tai Chi (a form of martial art and physical discipline) I think it has to do with moving with the other person's energy. As their energy ebbed and flowed between them that weekend, I likened it to a Tai Chi marriage dance. As one moved the other flowed to keep the relationship in balance at all times.

After four very relaxing and happy days there I was ready to head for Portland with a three day layover in Mt. Ranier National Park. The Park was crowded so I didn't see much of it except some hiking trails and, of course, the magnificent peak of Mt. Ranier. My three nights here I was again plagued with mice in my van. I also had a small electrical fire in my van and lost all my inside lights, so my memories of this campground are not too pleasant.

On my way to Portland I passed close to Mt. St. Helens and stopped at a scenic vista at which I was supposed to be able to see the mountain that blew her stack. I couldn't see it but my radiator blew its stack and spewed water for thirty minutes. Fortunately I had several gallons of water with me and after the radiator settled down I refilled it. I haven't had radiator trouble before or since that episode so I guess there was some unknown cosmic reason for that little escapade.

I was warmly welcomed in Portland by Anna Jane and her new roommate. Anna Jane had informed me earlier by phone that she had a Soul Mate in Pennsylvania and a lover in Portland so I could sleep on the couch this visit. I didn't mind since she and I are very good friends and are totally unconditional in our friendship. After a couple of days it was obvious that the roommate was not grooving on me being there, so I knew that I would not be able to stay for long and wait for work.

Portland was unusually hot and dry this time. They set three record high temperatures while I was there, and with no air conditioning. Anna Jane and I rode my motorcycle to the beach on one of the hot days. It was ninety degrees in Portland and 60 miles away on the beach it was 65. Oh, the difference an ocean makes. The next weekend we went to Mt. Hood which towers over Portland from 60 miles the other direction from the beach. You can snow ski one day and go to the beach the next.

Weekdays I went back to Hoyt Arboretum and hiked several hours each day. There were ten miles of trails in that 175 acre compound and I had them all memorized. My mind rambled along with my feet but but while my feet got somewhere my thoughts didn't. I was disappointed they weren't more productive but couldn't find the key to the Inner Self which I had on many of my hikes.

Anywhere that wasn't irrigated or watered was brown, in stark contrast to the area in March. This time on my hikes I was trying to make some sense out of my trip and myself, as my trip was almost over due to lack of funds. I pondered and pondered to no avail.

Two weeks of this and it was time to bid Anna Jane adieu once more. Time to take my ponderings into the wilderness yet again. I spent a week camped at a National Forest campground. Once again it had no water and was free. Water was available one half mile away so this was easy to live with. The trees were so thick overhead that at night even a full moon that week shed no light on the ground. I remember waking up at night and waiting for my eyes to adjust and then realize that it was literally pitch black as I could not see even my hand in front of my face.

The omnipresent logging roads were paved here which provided many opportunities for me to experience the freedom of my motorcycle. They went back into the wilderness which looked untouched by man (except for the areas scarred by logging) and completely primitive. I didn't encounter much animal life here but did enjoy watching the hawks and osprey soar on the wind between the mountain peaks. I vowed that I, too, would someday soar without benefit of motorcycle or plane.

It was very hot and humid with highs of 100 so I restricted my hikes to early morning. I was camped at an elevation of only 800 feet so that was no help. In the heat of the afternoons I rode my motorcycle higher onto the mountain and was amazed how much cooler it was there.

My older brother had earlier given me one of his TWA frequent flier coupons and I took advantage of it at this time to attend a Bill Bauman seminar in Tulsa. I flew from Portland to Seattle to St. Louis, where I changed planes and then flew to Tulsa. I flew all night and got into Tulsa about 11 the next morning. I don't sleep on planes because I have to help the pilot fly the plane. I was very tired but was glad to be there.

At the seminar were many friends I have made along the way. When I hugged some of them I noticed a phenomena which I had first noticed the previous month when hugging Anna Jane. I didn't want to let go. It felt so good that I literally did not want to ever let go. But reluctantly I did. I thought about that a lot and felt that what I was experiencing was the essence of their Soul, which is Love and Light--Divine Essence. I had opened up enough to be able to feel it and they had opened up enough to let it out. I was feeling the essence of their Being--that which they are. I know that we are supposed to be able to feel our own essence like this, also. And when we do, we will indeed experience Heaven on Earth, a state of Nirvana.

I could not get a flight out of Tulsa for three days so I arranged to fly back to Oregon from KC. I hitched a ride to KC with wonderful Amy and spent three days taking care of business and visiting friends. I left Tulsa with the awareness that it was okay for me to go back into the insurance business to refinance my retirement. Unfortunately I had left the phone number of my agency in my van in Portland.

Back in Oregon I continued camping where I had left off. First I called my friendly head hunter who finds me my temporary jobs and let him know I was ready. I would continue to call him from pay phones in National Forests until he found me a job.

I left western Oregon and drove to a campground in the Ochoco National Forest in central Oregon. I stayed at this campground longer than I stayed at any other single campground--11 days. I enjoyed camping here immensely. Again no water and so I didn't pay. They had turned off the water the day before I got there because it had become contaminated with bacteria. I drove over ten miles of gravel road to get water. This camp was thirty miles east of a city of 6,000 and 18 miles west of a town of 1,000.

Newspapers, phones, gas and fresh vegetables were not around the corner. I no longer had 2 Quik Trip stores one half mile in either direction from my house as I had in KC. I had not wanted to hassle with ice for a cooler so I did without refrigeration. Because the sun heated up the van during the day fresh vegetables didn't last long. I learned to grok canned veggies and instant soup.

I was camped about 4500 feet with peaks around me of 7500. I hiked every morning and rode the motorcycle every afternoon. Each evening I had a campfire and listened to 60's music from my tape collection. This was a very self nurturing time for me. I thought about myself. I felt myself. And finally I came to understand myself and come to terms with what I had learned about myself on this trip. I felt satisfied and complete with my trip.

The weather was sunny and 70's during the day and clear and cold-40-at night with a big full moon toward the end of my stay there. I had gone to town and bought a paper. In it I learned that the full moon always rose at sunset and the new moon at sunrise. I was amazed that I had lived this long without having learned this. By this time I had abandoned sleeping in my van to the mice whom I could not keep out of my van. I slept in my tent although it was ten degrees warmer sleeping in my van. Nonetheless I was having fun.

Seldom on my trip did anybody camp anywhere near me. They must have felt me bristle at them as they drove by and knew that I needed to be alone. One young couple ignored my hostile vibrations and camped RIGHT NEXT TO ME. I figured there was probably a good reason and I combed down my bristles and swore to myself to be friendly, assuming I remembered how.

His name was Ika and hers was Monica. He came over to ask about firewood and I gave them some of mine. (I'm such a softie!) They invited me over for wine later and I went about 9:00. They were both from Cologne, Germany and working on post-graduate degrees in Geo-physics. They explained what that was to me but I still didn't understand it. That night was the sixth month anniversary that they had been together. They were on a two month vacation to the US and were meeting some friends in Yellowstone Park in a week. We exchanged philosophies and had a good time. I assume that when someone sits down next to me (on my aura no less!) and asks me about how I view life they want the truth. They got it.

They left early the next day and I followed them two days later. I had decided to wait for a job to come along in Arkansas where I could watch the leaves turn. I hadn't seen Yellowstone when I was in the area the previous June and I had a year's pass so I decided to go there and see the sights on my way to Arkansas.

In Wyoming again I camped for a few days just outside of Teton Park. This time I camped a half mile away from a campground for free and used the water and outhouse (oops, vault toilet) at the campground. Again I hiked and toured the Tetons on my motorcycle. The snow was gone and the grass and trees were already turning brown as it had just turned September. It was an interesting contrast from what I had seen before. Fortunately the mosquito were gone. Nights were cold now, about 30. I didn't have the necessities for cold weather camping but, fool that I am, I braved it out. I bought a shower in Teton Park for $1.50 and thoroughly enjoyed it, my first indoor shower in over three weeks!

Three days later I moved up into Yellowstone Park and found a campground for $7.00 a night. I chose a central location so I could explore the entire Park from that one site. The first night it got c-c-c-old, into the 20's. I awoke the next morning with a cold. Undaunted I vowed to see the scenes no matter how I felt. I had come to do this and by god I would do it. I think I had a good time, but I don't remember too much. Judging from the postcards I bought there it is very pretty. Most of the Park's concessionaires shut down after Labor Day, so gas and food were available but scarce. The sunsets were gorgeous, all pink and orange and blue.

The fourth morning I left and spent two days driving to KC. Out of evergreen mountains to dry, rolling hills, to flat, green, fertile farmland and I knew I was nearing home. Football season had arrived again while I wasn't looking and I missed my mind numbing Sundays in front of the tube watching football. The Chiefs were going to be on Monday Night Football and I wanted to be in KC to watch it. I made it with three hours to spare.

I watched my Chiefies lose a heartbreaker to Denver and then spent the rest of the week doing my KC "stuff". This included finding the hole through which the mice were scampering and closing it up. Capably assisted by My Dad (actually, he did it and I assisted him, as usual) we fixed the inside van lights by rewiring them. They now work and I don't have to use them to look for mice, either! Truly a bit of heaven on earth!

On Friday I went to Wichita to attend a one day Bauman movement. I stayed with Rod Winter and began to realize just what a really super guy he is. Rae and Pat were there as was Heather, Rod and Rae's daughter, and we all had a big party; except for Rod, of course, who had to work.

After a couple of days I left and drove to Arkansas and Devil's Den once more. This was the third time I had been there and the first time I had seen it with leaves. I was suitably impressed. It is truly a beautiful place. It was very humid, but it didn't bother me too much anymore because Arkansas is no longer my favorite state and there was a Braums frozen yogurt store there which always makes things better.

Next I dropped on down to the Mt Ida area and found a campground for the off season rates of three dollars a night. This was on Lake Ouachita and included electricity and a shower. I figured I was here for the duration. I dug crystals at Robbins' mine. They were especially clear but not very big or very many. I had been in touch with the head hunter every few days and finally he found something for me. Again it was in Chicago. This time downtown in the Loop area. I left for Chicago an hour later and never did see the leaves change. That was okay, though. I don't like Arkansas anymore except it has Braums and some special people.

In Chicago the Company put me up in a very nice one bedroom apartment with running water, cable TV, a microwave and a dishwasher. I vaguely remembered what those things were. Being in my own space for the first time since I had sold my house brought back to me memories of my house. Interestingly, all my memories were impersonal. The focus of my memories was outside of my house looking at what was going on inside the house. Having my own space seemed totally foreign to me. This was just another temporary stop along the trail of my journey.

I was mentally and financially ready to go to Chicago but not emotionally, as I found. It was horrible; worse than my worst
nightmare. I don't care if YOU like Chicago, I don't! So I'll skip it.

I was finished with Chicago at Christmas. I made lots of money and that was the only good to come out of it. Between Christmas and New Years I went to Utah to ski. It was so good to bathe in Bill and Donna's special energy and I dumped a good load of Chicago energy there.

I wanted to stay in the Midwest for My sister's birthday on Super Bowl Sunday and for another Bauman movement in early February, just after my 44th birthday. Several years ago Donna Buhrman told me I would come into my power at age 44. So I was ready. Again the seminar was wonderful and I got to hug so many truly wonderful and remarkable people and I got to tell some more jokes, which always makes me happy.

When I left KC in mid February, I stayed with Rod Winter for a couple of days before going to southern Oklahoma where I camped for a few days. The weather was cool and windy there, but I did have one nice day during which I rode my motorcycle around the lake at which I was camped. It was good to get back out in nature and hiking and all that other "camping" stuff. Although I did miss civilization a bit at first.

After five days of camping I went to the Dallas area to spend several days with Margaret Wilson and George Nemec. These are two people whom I met from Bill's seminars. Margaret has been through a lot of "stuff" for the last fifteen years. A year ago she decided to get rid of it and has changed tremendously since then. She has come through virtually unscathed and has really manifested a lot of power. I stayed with her for five days. No romance or sex but she was a lot of fun to be around. She was easy to be around which is exactly what I needed. After I had been there three days she made several comments about things we did not have in common. I laughed gently and said that was all right because we were not soul mates. A week later I realized that was the time she began to pull away from me.

A year less a day after I left Tulsa last year, I traveled the identical route and had lots of time to think about how much I had changed in the last year. Even with the layover in Chicago I still felt very much in touch with what I felt and learned and changed during my sojourn last year. The main difference this year was that when I got to Flagstaff this year I turned left rather than right. I arrived in Sedona on February 26th. Trying to locate Patrick the Storyteller, I went to several different places and became familiar with Sedona. There is a place called The Center For the New Age in Sedona and I went there. It is a non profit place which basically is a network center for New Age practitioners and the general public who come in from off the streets. I have met a lot of people through this connection. The person on duty at the Center when I first went there told me where I could camp for free and other necessary bits of information.

I camped just off a National Forest Road about a mile from downtown Sedona. Since there are no facilities at the campground, I use the public restrooms in Sedona a mile away. There is even a place in town where I can buy a shower for three dollars. This I do only every other day because I want to make my money last as long as possible. My second and third days here it rained continuously. We had about one sixth of the annual rainfall in those two days. Since then it has gotten progressively colder and wetter. It has snowed five out of the last seven days. Most of it has melted during the day but it has been cold. February had been dry and in the seventies, although March is usually their wet month. I was pleasantly surprised how well I coped with all of the miserable camping weather. Maybe I have learned something.

I have been to a couple of the vortices and hiked a few trails despite the poor weather. There are four main vortices and several smaller ones. The energy of the entire area is very open and soothing. I definitely like it here. When the weather clears up (the seventh storm of the month is expected in a few days) I will explore the entire central Arizona area on foot and on my motorcycle. There are a lot of beautiful sights and I expect to see them all. It feels like I will be here a while, partly because there is nowhere else I have to go. I have no plans and will stay here until I feel like being somewhere else.

I have met less than a handful of Star Beings here. Most of the people here are retired folks who have nothing to do with the New Age. They come here for the red rocks. There are also four to five million tourists who come here every year. Here the opening line is not what is your sun sign, but rather how long have you been in Sedona. Most of the people I have met are practitioners and consider themselves either a Master or an Avatar. There is a lot of mental energy amongst them but very little heart energy. There is every kind of reading and course of study I have ever heard of here and many more I haven't heard of before. I don't know if there are any seekers who come to them. For all I know they just trade readings with each other. But somehow they do seem to get money to survive on. There are several bookstores and crystal shops along with all the Indian art galleries and the usual tourist type stores. All of the New Age people are busy scrambling to make a living as practitioners.

I attend a meditation group on Wednesday evenings lead by a man named Jananda and his wife Celeste. Jananda is supposed to be in touch with some ET's who give him information and he is busy giving messages to people. He is very left brained and it is obvious that the information is coming through him and not from him. Celeste is a very delightful visionary artist who does lovely ethereal paintings. She is fun to be around even if at times she sounds like a little Jananda. I go to the meditations basically to meet people. So far I have been to three. A lot of nice people come to this group and there are new people each week. I have met two male Star Beings there who also camp in their vans and are a delight to talk to even if they are twenty years younger than I am. One of them, Heribert, is from Bavaria in Germany and has been in the US for fourteen months and in Sedona for two months. He is tall, dark and very handsome in a gentle and sensitive way. He is truly open to his body, mind, emotions, and Spirit. He shares what he has to say and staunchly resists the efforts of the other people in the group to tell him what he really means and is really experiencing. I have never met anyone like him before. He feels like Angel Love incarnate.

Early on I met a woman named K'Leah and recognized her to be a great one. She is a cross between Donna Buhrman and Joyce Benner. She is open, eclectic and pathless. She had been frustrated with the mental types she had met here who were on The One and Only Path. Of course there are a lot of politics in the community because of all the earth human types who are all busy trying to learn and grow and deal with their mistakes as well as trying to save the Earth. Even though K'Leah remembered past lives on other planets, she did not realize who she was. She assumed she was just like everybody else trying to learn and grow. In my talks with her she has opened up to her Self and has begun to realize who she is. She has opened up remarkably in the few weeks I have known her.

She has an ancient sixteen year old son and a spare bedroom. When the snow hit this week she offered me her spare bedroom until some out of town friends come to visit her next week. I accepted her most gracious offer and have spent my time editing the information I wrote in Dateline Aquarius into book form and adding to it. I don't know if it is marketable, but it is fun and the opportunity is there. I started on it during January when I was staying with Rod. I had toyed with the idea of renting a small place here and getting the book done. But when I got here I found housing atrociously high.

After I had been here a couple of weeks I realized that I had completely rid myself of my Chicago experience and felt quite centered and open, even more so than before I went to Chicago. Last year I felt like being alone on my trip and sought that out. This year I have no desire to be alone. Nor do I feel any desire or need not to express my views on life, the universe and things in general. As a result I have spoken out quite a bit and feel quite comfortable with that. I express what I feel like saying and don't give a hoot whether it is received, appreciated or liked. But of course it is all three.

I feel that I am here to receive certain energies that will enliven or quicken certain aspects of my Soul or Spirit. I have assumed that it will come from the vortices but it may come from people also. There is a man named Michael Big Bear who has a New Age music and thought program on the local radio station. He says good stuff and plays beautiful music and I try to listen to him every night. I met him briefly ten days ago. He radiates peace and calmness and I swear I see light pouring forth from his eyes, mouth and ears. I want to see him again and talk to him in depth. The night after I met him he appeared in my dream state and I had a vague memory the next morning that he had done some opening up on me during the night. I haven't consciously noticed any difference in myself but feel the dream was significant. It felt that way when I awakened. He is the only being in human form that I am aware of working with me other than Bill Bauman.

I went to a concert here in Sedona tonight by Steven Halpern. It was in a cozy room and about a hundred people attended. I have several of his earlier tapes but left them in KC and have not heard them for many years. I tell you, in concert he is dynamite. I can see and feel the energy that he is flowing out of him into the piano. He truly created an energy in me and put me in a very feeling mode. He looks like an ordinary kind of guy, but the guy can channel and play music! The concert was only $8. He is doing a seminar tomorrow afternoon for only $22.

After the last of these storms comes through and the sun comes back out I will let K'Leah have her spare bedroom back and go back to camping. It has been nice having indoor plumbing and warmth at night, but I can do without. I'll go back to my camper shower now that the sun is out and back to using the nearest tree.

Please excuse the lack of a personal note, but I am sending out eighty of these to my special friends and can't take time to write a personal note to each. Be happy and consider yourself hugged (and kissed, where appropriate.)