A Walk to that Place which shall remain nameless.

Do you have a Special Spot? Watermelon Time~!

Above: Full Moon in the Palms

I headed off on my morning walk, determined to continue increasing my stamina, strength and mental health here on the beautiful Mexican Pacific Coast.

My Egyptian History Podcast, with Dominic Perry, continues to entertain and amaze me. I’ve just finished the two episodes that deal with the Book of Gates. It’s a book first found complete in a tomb of the 18th dynasty, about 1500 BCE, but continuously referred to and repeated throughout the Middle and New Kingdoms.

It describes what happens at night to the sun god Ra, the main god in the Egyptian Pantheon. Each of the twelve gates refers to an hour of the night. It is an exploration of the unknown and of our deepest fears, with assurances that if we behave in accordance with Ma’at we will have eternal life. Ma’at is the ancient Egyptian concept of truth, balance, order, harmony, law, morality, and justice.

I continued along La Boquita Beach until the noise from the breakers and the birds drowned out my podcast.

Dozens of Magnificent Frigate Birds wheeled, squawked, dove and fought in a tight circle over a fisherman who was throwing his unused bait up in the air. YouTubeVideo

I could see some wind far out on the Bay, but here at La Boquita there was just a hint of the on-shore breeze that was yet to develop. I kept walking.

“Don’t complain about the heat and humidity,” I told myself, remembering the snow that was piling up in the North. “Embrace it, sweat and all. Let it warm your old joints.”

I headed up the mountain, immersed in the Egyptian Underworld of the podcast, led by a pair of large white butterflies.

I followed a huge flying insect with a bright orange-red body and wings like a giant wasp down the path to the Quetzal overlook.

I got my first Pacific View fix at altitude for the day, then returned to the rocky trail up the mountain. A steep climb brought me here:

I had arrived at my destination. This is my new “favorite spot.” It has a better view of the Juluapan peninsula as it stretches south into the Pacific. It’s cooler here, with better breezes, and it’s safer, with a place to sit, rest and write, without danger of sliding down to the rocks 240 meters below like my previous “favorite spot.”

A squadron of six Pelicans soared and wheeled over the rocky point below. A bird called out “CherWheer! CherWheer!” while the roar of the ocean provided a basso continuo. No signs of humanity except a sailboat miles out.

The cooling breeze strengthened and my sweat-soaked daypack dried in the sun. There is no cell phone service here to tempt or interrupt. I’d disconnected from that system and plugged into another.

I’m not sure what I’m searching for here, but it seems very close. I wondered, “why is this my favorite spot?”

Then, WOW, another squadron of dozens of Pelicans glided around the point just 20 meters below me, rounding the mountain, too many to count.

“Well that’s ONE reason why!” I thought.

The land, rocks and trees below look like a giant King Kong who has fallen on his back after trying to scale this mountain.

A container ship made its way out of Manzanillo Bay and turned east-southeast, clearly not headed for China as many do. This ship was a newer one, and a bit smaller than some. I could tell it was new by the lack of dirty smoke. It looked like a “Panamax” freighter, those designed to traverse the Panama Canal. Perhaps the bigger China boats dump all their containers here in ZLO, some to travel by rail to the north while others are reloaded to traverse the Canal en route to an Atlantic Port, perhaps even Europe.

As the ship faded in the distance I realized that the view was improved. My favorite views are devoid of evidence of humans.

I heard footsteps on the path. A fellow hiker appeared, the first person I had seen on the mountain today. I answered his trail questions and we continued to chat. His name was Murray, a retired firefighter from B.C. (British Columbia).

I shared with him the enjoyment I got from representing firefighters and cops over the years. We respect and appreciate them because they take the pain on our behalf. At fires, accident scenes, and other tragedies, they deal with and protect us from those sights and realities that are so terrible as to almost be beyond comprehension, often suffering from PTSD as a result.

Now retired, he too enjoys escaping to the wild. He interested me in another Pacific View at Bella Bella, B.C. Have you been there? Looks really nice! We exchanged info and he continued on his journey.

I’m not going to name this new observation spot. Or at least not yet. I can’t come up with the right word, other than that it’s a Portal. A window seat on the universe, high above the Pacific.

I fear that to name it might denigrate or somehow diminish it. Like the Hebraic religions reluctance to name “God.” It is not really just a place or location. It’s a feeling, a spirit, a place of meditation, enrichment and discovery.

Even more importantly, it is not the only place that has these attributes. We each may find a place like this. For some it may be a park bench, for others a seashore or trail, perhaps a big rock, small lake or flowing stream. Or simply a state of mind, found by walking, riding, or rowing. An abstraction.

Robert Louis Stevenson found it not at a particular spot, but from the motion of rowing on the Oise. He describes the “abstraction” he felt while rowing down the river, elevating his spirit above his body:

What philosophers call me and not me, ego and non ego, pre-occupied me whether I would or no. There was less me and more not me than I was accustomed to expect. I looked on upon somebody else, who managed the paddling; I was aware of somebody else’s feet against the stretcher; my own body seemed to have no more intimate relation to me than the canoe, or the river, or the river banks.

Nor this alone: something inside my mind, a part of my brain, a province of my proper being, had thrown off allegiance and set up for itself, or perhaps for the somebody else who did the paddling. I had dwindled into quite a little thing in a corner of myself. I was isolated in my own skull. Thoughts presented themselves unbidden; they were not my thoughts, they were plainly some one else’s; and I considered them like a part of the landscape.

I take it, in short, that I was about as near Nirvana as would be convenient in practical life; and if this be so, I make the Buddhists my sincere compliments; ’tis an agreeable state, not very consistent with mental brilliancy, not exactly profitable in a money point of view, but very calm, golden, and incurious, and one that sets a man superior to alarms. It may be best figured by supposing yourself to get dead drunk, and yet keep sober to enjoy it. I have a notion that open air labourers must spend a large portion of their days in this ecstatic stupor, which explains their high composure and endurance. A pity to go to the expense of laudanum, when here is a better paradise for nothing!

RLS, An Inland Voyage, excerpted at The Letters and Travels of Robert Louis Stevenson (highly recommended).

I headed down the Mountain. It’s always quicker going down of course, but you need to watch your step! Halfway I stopped for a drink. Another hiker came down the trail and greeted me. “We meet again!” he said in Spanish-accented English.

I was confused.

“Last week? Where? When?”

I knew I was getting older, but I just couldn’t place this guy.

“Just now! Up at Casa Abandonada!”

The lightbulb went off. “Oh! That wasn’t me! That was Murray! All us white guys look alike! He has a similar hat, but it’s a bit different.”

He laughed heartily, then agreed, it wasn’t me after all. Our hats were a bit different!

Now back in cell phone range, I had a great call with my Brilliant Son, about an idea for a Canadian fishing trip, stimulated by my new friend Murray. I took a shortcut home along the dusty road, avoiding the busy beach and it’s noise while we caught up.

Then … Meet Lorenzo! He was selling coconuts and watermelons off the back of his pickup. He picked me out a good one, carefully knocking and listening to the echo, then cut out a piece for me to try. Delicious! 40 pesos. ($2).

I headed home with my treasure towards El Toro.

The watermelon was sweet! The Brilliant Wife approved.

Have you found a special spot? Or several? Or like RLS, do you have a particular activity that gets you in the zone? We all need something, and the closer it is to home the more often we can visit~!

Thanks so much for traveling along~!