Adventures with Antonio Manchego

Day 4

Day four from Namche to Pangboche was a long day (the longest) and up to the awesome monastery in Tengboche. I decided day 4 was going to be more spiritual if I had any say about it. The bowl at which the monastery sits was possibly the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. There was, however, tourists and only one monk at the gate to tell people to remove there shoes. He allowed me alone to enter the buddhist monk prayer room with their mats, robes, and completely ornate worship room. As elaborate as any movie you have seen and it really blew my socks off. (I kept my socks on). He gave me a menthol candy to aid in breathing as he saw I was on a rug in the back corner cross-legged, hands in prayer and attempting to connect with the sacred as the monks do routinely. My white American uneducated and muddled mind was like a canoe fighting the current instead of learning to steer with it. But there was so much noise.

I told Chhatra and Rom that this was a spiritual journey for me and I emphasized the monasteries. My guide literally said when we crested into the monastic bowl, ” you can spend…you know…7 or 8 minutes here”. I stayed probably 45 min inside myself. Ron didn’t want to enter. I then decided to ” have lunch” on the monastery step. I only had a mini-snickers but I made it last an uncomfortably long time until I had to lecture him on WHY I was here. His journey as a guide was not the same as one seeking a pilgrimage. Continuing on our walk I dragged my feet. I was not there. I was still at the temple. My mind had not caught up with my feet and I was ok with that. I liked where my head was at.

Mantras

The mantras I have been reciting outloud as I walk are basic ones. The most common is ” Om Mani Padme Hum”. Basically I believe is to focus oneself on combining altruism ( love and joy for all) with wisdom. To focus on this and keep it sacred. To focus on tgat sacred in order to transform the inpure to the pure in the body and mind.

The second mantra I’ve been reciting is, ” Om Ara Pa Za Na Dih”. This I believe is to focus on tge oneness of all. To remove ego and conceptual views tgatvseparate ourselves from everything.

So, whether I understand them completely or not, repeating such thoughts as live for all, wisdom, and oneness , cant hurt. In fact, to see those ideas in everyone you meet and in all the nature around is quite a great feeling. I think I will try and focus on such things more. This trip is the perfect primer.

We passed an old man. sitting in a folding chair, a weathered home-made sign, and a wooden box with various foreign words painted around the one word I recognized, ” donations”. This could easily be one of the many panhandlers at the exit of Costco. It was explained to me tgat he has for 30 years worked to keep the trail clean of litter. Tge fact that I doubted he coukd stand didnt matter. My guide described his notoriety with a reverence and respect and so, I was sure that at some time in his life he was active in trail maintenence. He still was, if only to bring the issue to forethought. What made this man different from a panhandler? Well, I put 2 bucks in the box and was overpaid in return by him standing cautiously, pressing his hands, bowing, and stating the greeting of tge godly, ” Namaste”. I returned the greeting but felt he gave me gold and I gave him a paper of no more worth than the trash he had once picked up. I love this man. How could you not.

At a teahouse in Pangboche, I was welcomed by a group of Israelis that were making their own food for Shabbat ( the Jewish holy day) . I had played a game of chess in Namche with one of them. A great game I list at the end but was a fun well played game. I errored only once which is all it takes with two evenly matched players. The group of 8 were traveling the same trail as I, but were taking an offshoot to a pass I am not going. So when we happened to stay at the same teahouse again at the next village the young gentleman invited me to eat Shabbat with them. Now maybe I DO have to tell you that this is an honor really and I would not and coukd not say no. We prayed in Hebrew but I only added the common word , ” Amen”. They were pleased that I knew that much. There was breaking of bread, and drinking of the same cup of some Nepali everclear posing as kosher wine. The food was called shakshuka. I shared stories of my giving up everything to help the Israeli Army. It seemed we were already friends before we met.

Lollipops

I needed a coke. We stopped at one of the many homes/convenience stores that sell lunch or souvenirs to the trekers on the ” highway to basecamp”. It’s rugged. Its cold, its badic, but there IS just ONE TRAIL from Lukla to Everest Base Camp which is an 8 day walk. Still in my monastic trance after leaving Tengboche, I directed Rom to stop for a coke. The break in the meditation was about time. As I opened the twist top coke, I noticed a single young boy of about 3-4 years old. I was eager to share the Tootsi-Roll Pops I had in my snack bag. I gave him the grape one because the cherry is my favorite. I motioned to the motherly figure (and grandma) to make sure the gift was acceptable. They nodded and smiled. The boy grabbed it with coaxing from my guide and ran back to the room of his guardians to unwrap it. I let them see that I too was opening mine to ensure, you know, that it wasnt poison. I love Tootsie roll pops and I have never eaten one with a frown. Of course I wanted to take a picture of this cute kid and remembervthis sharing moment, but he was shy. But from afar we exchanged and imitated the 1000 ways to suck a lollipop. The women in the back laughed and exchanged Nepali words with my guide. I asked what that was about. He said tgat they ” laughed at YOU”. They never see adults eating lollipops…” It’s for children”. I stared at him as purposefully as I could and told him tgat he needed to be more like a child.

Then I was outdone by the boy. I thought I was sharing basic wisdom of allowing your inner child to come though and not be afraid of of child wisdom. I then after several face twisting, right cheek, left cheek, finally CRUNCHED the lollipop breaking the candy cherry casing to reveal the tootsie core. The boy looked at me. I wanted to share this wondrous revelation of the chocolate inside. He looked, but was not impressed. Perhaps this was not his first tootsie roll pop. He stuck out his tongue ( now purple) slowly. On purpose with the same look from his eye tgat I imparted to Rom, my guide.

Now, this Nepali kid gave me no prior indication of knowing English, but with that glare of eternal wisdom came onecwird, ” SLOW”. I had been outwisdomed by the child. The teacher to Rom became the childs student. This one word ” slow” could have come from a 150 year old sage floating above a yoga mat with an ora of gold light. The sage was not mearly telling me to eat a lollipop slowly but to enjoy EVERYTHING and to do so slowly in a mindful way. To not hurry to get to some gooey center prise. For as the boy apparently already knew, it will come. The prize is in the licking. The chocolate will come. Trust the Journey. Enjoy the journey.

I am grateful for the opportunity to be here. I am grateful for each breath. I am grateful for each lick of the lollipop.

Days 1-3. Trust the Journey

I have been dreaming of this 18 day trek in the Himalayas since I was sixteen. All the paperwork, planning, and reservations aside I took a small gutted schoolbus in the sky to the worlds most deadly airport. Lukla airport is deadly because the runway ends AT the mountain face. Fog, speed, or the ” crackerjack pilots” that are banned in most European countries from flying can cause the plane to come to a ” dead stop”.  My flight was fun, 30 min from Kathmandu, and uneventful. We immediately began the trek.

My guide ” Rom” and porter ” Mekh-man” and I are the group. It’s the first trip in over a year for these guys due to covid shutting down travel. They were eager to make money and to see their friends up the mountain trail. The trek just to Everest Base Camp is 8 days one way. I will try and add some lower peaks and passes beyond the standard EBC trek. But… we will see.

I hired them for 18 days and can customize as I wish. The guide will handle the accommodations wherever we end up. He knows everyone and most villages are ghost towns from covid. Many teahouses are simply shut down. An average day ,I am told, you see 1000 people on the trail. We saw 6 on day 1. On day 2 we ran into a group of 8 Israelis doing the famed “3 passes circ”. My route only hits 2 and maybe only my original one over Cho-la pass to Gokyo lakes. I was talked into adding Renjo La pass and down to Thame monastery to make a nice circ . These are high passes at 18,000 ft and may be impassable due to recent storms and temps not exceeding the freezing point. We will see.

Night one on trail was at a friend of Rom’sThe window didnt close and no teahouses have heat. There were a dozen Nepali cockroaches i saw at a 3 am potty call. I killed 5 of them. It was 16 degrees F. The roaches just wanted to snuggle. I left the light on.

Day two is the steepest climb of the trek to the sherpa village of Namche. The NOAA radar on my phone said rain began at 11 am. I told Rom we should start at 6 but he didnt want to start until 8. We walked 2 hours in the downpour of 34 degree rain. He said he should have listened go me. When the sun went down the heavy system continued with thunder , the rain turning to heavy snow continuing til midday on day 3. We hope for some melting but expect a muddy and slippery trail to Tengboche temple and then to Pangboche for the night.

The 2 nights of acclimation was hard to just sit in town , but my body needs it. The climb to Namche was slow and my O2 sat after dinner was only 87%. Usually 97-98% back home. A day of acclination did not help. Dinner the next night was 87% . No improvement. Believe me I have already wondered what I got into and worry about my ability to finish. To have doubts already is not good and I repeated to myself all day to ” Trust the Journey”. Sorry I cannot philosophize tonight about it. I have to get sleep for tomorrow’s climb of 6-7 hours. Just wanted to let you know how its going. We will talk more in a few days if I can find signal.

Tea brought to me from my host after a hands pressed greeting in reverent salutation to the divine in me, a bow, and spoken ” Namaste” was a perfect beginning to my first day in Nepal. I returned the greeting. Which , it turns out, is actually the common way to greet everyone everytime you meet. A recognition that I will treat you with respect for we share a common divinity. It was perfect. There is a garden, and walkway with tables and chairs in the center of The Kathmandu Guest House in the Thamel district. Not a restaurant or cold cereal and bagel counter at the Holiday Inn Express. An actual garden that they strategically ( with Zen qualities) placed accommodations to sit your bum and place your teacup. I listened not to Frank Sinatra or Boy George on a satellite loop approved from corporate, but the tweets and caws, flitters and flaps of the birds. The honks of the cars beyond the walls and the blurred ambience of 1 million voices positioning and planning, posturing and bargaining as the small street businesses do, but this background does little to move my soul as the birds have taken me by their beaks to a higher place

in the tangled web of 52 year old electrical wiring. Mostly discarded and not firing but remnant memories like dead-end paths of a labyrinth. Who would want to untangle that mess. Best to be creative and let the birds have their nests. The worms of my mind will bring good karma to the blind open- mouthed youth.

Did you notice that the older gentleman wiping morning dew from the seats asked me if he ” could please” bring me another cup of tea. He then thanked me for allowing him to serve me. Upon offering money he said it was free. I somehow feel we BOTH profited by that exchange. The birds watched and approved of the humans interacting in peace and god-like sharing. Oh, those moments of bliss.

It was hard to tell who was more grateful, me or the host. I believe he won. He has had more practice at being grateful and I, not so much experience of being gracious OR grateful. This however seems to be “the garden” to plant and see the growth, and to use the senses to appreciate its beauty. It is immediately apparent that FIVE senses are not enough to see whats going on here.

I was bombarded today on my walk through the streets by those that wanted ” to help” me. Several just wanted to walk and talk until I basically paid them to leave. There is a nice way to say that, but if I was THAT nice and enlightened, I wouldn’t be here. It is OF COURSE the human interactions that are important, since I am sure that ‘The Almighty’ has the love and kindness thing figured out. That would be an easy task to work toward God loving you. You literally DO just have to get yourself out of the way. Stop hating yourself and your past decisions and perceived failures to please others…and BOOM, you will feel God’s love.

The more people, the fallible, needy, greedy, irritable asses we are…the more variables in the equasion thus the more unpredictable the outcome. Even if I WAS a constant the addition of even one variable makes the outcome complex to me with infinite possible outcomes. Relationships, even street interactions are more avant-garde art in their progress than an equation. Once again artists have the advantage on seeing life’s beauty versus us rigid scientists. At least one saving grace for this clinical analyst is that mathematics has developed with quantum states to see the possibilities. The many dimensions and timelines occurring at once…and the subtle changes from the butterfly’s wing, the constant change, the flow of the buddha stream. Is it a flow of One consciousness or a kindergarten class all throwing pebbles into the reflecting pool? Perhaps the Almighty anticipated the field trip. Perhaps he drove the bus.

In any case, come 5 a.m. in the light rain and fog on the mountain above Lukla, I roll the dice on the historically most deadly airstrip in the World. I hope the Almighty knows how to fly a plane.

Triple Crown: Egypt, Israel, Nepal

I am heading out tomorrow for Nepal for some Himalayan Trekking and Buddhist temples. But, where did this come from, and where am I going.? Some thoughts and stories of my history and future.

“The path to enlightenment is as sharp and narrow as a razors edge.”

Quote from movie but based on the saying in the Kasha-Upanishads, “The sharp edge of a razor is difficult to pass over; thus the wise say the path to Salvation is hard.”

In 1984, One of my favorite 2 movies came out in a new modern version of W Somerset Maugh’s “The Razor’s Edge” starring Bill Murray as the dramatic lead. One analyst wrote, “Larry Darrell (Murray) is the type of character that gets a reader in alot of trouble if that reader comes in contact with Somerset Maugham’s novel ‘The Razor’s Edge’ at the wrong time. Maugh’s hero is one of those romantic figures of literature that we all want to think really exists out there in the real world, but probably doesnt and if he did, would almost assuredly be a dissappointment if ever met.”

I was 16. To know me is to understand this movie, for a large part of me fell for sexton describes as, “the powerful lure of Larry Darrell’s rejection of conforming to the soul-sucking expectations of society”. Larry rejects the societal ‘steps of wealth to success model’ and takes an uncertain path of knowledge toward understanding, meaning, and answers. An Abatement of arrogance and unification with the Universal. Hola!!! Such became my quest.

My stepfather and mother had money. Should I say, they earned their success by the accumulation of money and possessions. The family business was one of manufacturing and fabrication. Production for a price. Such is life, most say. This allowed the buying of a new house biennially and the swapping of the sofa with the seasons. Goodwill was the benefiter of mom’s benevolence. I was “next in line.” Groomed to take over the business as Victor took over for his father. Victor eventually made millionaires of everyone of his family that came to work for him. My brother took my coveted 1st born spot and retired at the age of 40. One sister is on the perpetual academic plan on dad’s collegiate endowment. Finishnig her Masters degree. The other sister is a wonderful artist. At age 17 I rejected the path of monetary wealth and set out west eventually settling in Montana. Reading books of Jung, books of Zen, cosmic consciousness, mythology by Joseph Campbell, scriptures of the ancients, stories of aborigines, and native folklore. I became a laboratory professional and devoted 30 years to others in healthcare. I spent my time with people at their worst: sickness, death, birth, aging and loneliness. I was reaching out to connect with people and to fine some “worth” for my life. I learned that all of us are flawed and fragile. I chose this path at the sacrifice of the financial. The only home I ever owned was a singlewide trailer on an Indian reservation. I raised a family and watched my children grow to adulthood. I have had many grand adventures. A great life. But for me at 17…it was a huge blind jump of faith that answers existed for the questions of a greater meaning. I headed west…but first stop was Egypt!

As a young adventurer, I can think of no greater triple crown than Egypt, Israel, and Nepal. Yes there are places like Australia and the Alps that I will go, but the physical journey to iconic sites holding spiritual and historical significance is more than symbolic. Truly educational, it is knowledge gained by experience that far outweighs the textual. A pilgrimage has a deeper meaning to the soul beyond a “vacation”.

Egypt: Land of pharohs, mysterious hieroglyphs, worship of the sun and sky, gods of men-giants-aliens?, mathematics, astronomy, energy. Wow! Just some of the words that come to mind.

Israel: The current holder and preserver of “The Holy Land” and the historic sites of Christianity, Judaism, and Islam.

Himalayas (Nepal): The birthplace and practitioners of Buddhism and Hinduism.

As rough approximates for contextual timeframes, we are talking Israel 2-3000 years old, Egypt 4-5000 years old, and Nepal region 8000 years ago. Historians and bible scholars dont hang me

Egypt

“Give me your money. All of it!”

A rendezvous at 3am in the Egyptian desert was full of surprises. 2 guards with Uzis among them.

“Give me your money. All of it!” In the darkness I would hear this several times in my life. What happened next was always unforseen. This time wasn’t a gang of 4 knife wielding mexicans stealing my backpack, or a wife on a spending spree. This time it was in the darkness of the desert; a drive out to the sands of Egypt at 3 am. Me in the backseat wondering where the Egyptologist I had followed went, after being woken to “wanna go on an adventure? Dont ask questions, let’s go.” The American Archeologist I was with didn’t speak, so neither did I. Reappearing from total darknesshe leaned into the back seat and demanded urgently my money. There was urgency “not to be messed with” . in his voice. I gave him all my Egyptian currency probably equal to 15 – 250 US dollars . I wasn’t sure. A quick trip into the darkness again and back and my trusted guide said, “Hurry. At sunrise they will yell angrily, but don’t worry.” Walking away from the safety of the car we passed the two Egyptian guards with Uzi machine guns and approached 4 foot stone blocks. We were at the Pyramids in Giza at the base of The Great Pyramid of Khufu. “Climb and keep climbing” I was told in that same “not to be messed with voice”.

I saw the sun rise from sitting atop the Great Pyramid and looking across the clouds to the tip of the slightly smaller pyramid of Khafre with its famous casing stones still entact-ish on the top third. My picture was in the Milwaukee Public Museum Egyptian exhibit created by the American archeologist Carter Lupton. My cheap camera photos above.

Israel

I gave them “all my money. all of it”. My life savings and retirement fund. They only asked for $25. Twentyeight years after Egypt, Obama was in the White House. Its no secret that Israel felt betrayed by the American Government. Thousands of rockets from Gaza rained down on small villages like Siderot and “the knife infitada” began. The rockets were paid for with money given to the Palestinian Hamas and it’s big brother Iran by Obama. U.S tax dollars used to kill Jews. During an episode of the 700 club they asked for 25 dollars to help Israel. I had the phone in my hand but put it down, quit my job, sold my van, cashed out my retirement fund and went to help the Israeli Military. When not on base, I visited the holy sites, had an Orthodox Seder meal (on Passover), walked the Way of the Cross procession on Good friday, had an Easter candlelight vigil in a stone church in old Jerusalem, visited The Tomb, and camped on the salt beds of the Dead Sea climbing to the plateau of Masada for sunrise. I grew up Christian and attended Catholic school. I believe I was called to help defend this land. I didnt know if I’d come home. I was ready for whatever happened. Luckily my volunteer service was as a civilian and only a month. I returned safely but was penniless and unemployed. I had brought the History and faith I had only read about my whole life to a real present. An involved and dedicated one for which I again literally gave “all my money.”

Nepal

Six years after Israel to the Present day. When my youngest son turned 18 I felt free to start a new phase of life. I sold my home( the single wide trailer on the rez in Montana) and again quit my job. I never reinvested into a retirement fund so all I had was the 20thousand from selling my lot and trailer and paying off debt to become “debt free”. I fished, went to the Utah desert, visited old friends and new, visited family. Tomorrow I will again be unemployed and homeless after saving enough for a plane tix and guide. I give “all my money” for the continued search for meaning in life, for knowledge by experience, for a faith journey that answers to life’s deep questions do exist. I now give all my money and security for the last of the spiritual trifecta of adventures…The Himalayas of Nepal ! This journey is not just a challenge and scenery. It is a inner journey as well that will continue into Appalachia. I start with questions already. The biggest is: On a search for this meaning and connection, and place in the cosmic scene, Do I become MORE me or Less me. Do I bend the spoon of reality or Bang my freaky cowbell. Same universal questions. Who am I and what’s my purpose here.

Layers on an Eggshell

“I see your “bubble” as an eggshell of the self. That has been glazed over with many layers of opacity put on by those that have defined us. Religion, school, parents, spouse, profession all add their glaze onto the outside of what was me. At the same time my defenses add layers of cement to the inside as protection. To get back to more ME, the outside and inside layers must first be chipped away, dissolved, resolved, but in any case, rejected as not me. Only then may the porcelain be layered in transparency to let the beauty of the self shine and be shared.” -Benny

Benny mixes in pottery metaphors with his layered egg description of becoming more himself by first removing layers externally and internally. Then rebuilding in transparency.

I have never felt I had to “go back” to erase damage done. I played guitar in a band and viewed the good and bad in my life as different notes on the same fretboard. If you hit a bad cord, you “Dont stop. Keep playing!” In a way, Benny and me were (partly) saying the same thing…”To strip away layers”, but the difference is, I feel no desire to go back fix dissonant notes much less relive the events of trauma in my mind. Play on I say.

Philosophy versus Self-help

I read somewhere that Self-help is like medicine and philosophy is like healthy living. What is rich and rewarding, our duty to others, the meaning of life…this is philosophy. Quitting smoking, overcoming a breakup, how to ask your boss for a raise…that is self-help. And for me, The “no Spoon” represents a philosophy, and “how to let your cowbell be heard” is self help.

“Self Help makes us more fragile while philosophy makes us Anti-fragile”

phrase by Nassim Taleb

Self-help focuses on the self. It has you as a subjective frame of reference at its end. Philosophy sees the self as a starting point bridge to objective concepts and values. Self help may make you more rigid and less open to different views of the good life because you think you have found the right answer for everyone. Philosophy however can make you more open to different views and outward looking.

Atman, Brahman, and Buddha..OhMY

Quickly, because ya’ll might get bored of reading this. Atman is the Hindu idea of a soul lets say, and Brahman is God, lets just say. Some but not all sects of Hinduism believe that Brahman is in your Atman. We worship the God in you by the greeting “Namaste”. Some say that you are totally made up of illusion of self and are really an interplay of energies among all things encountered. Atman is really a drop in the ocean and when you release your drop into the ocean (burst your bubble) you see that you ARE the ocean. Some sects of Hinduism believe this “oneness” on an eternal basis is not possible for most people (or really really) difficult and it seems that some kind of “dead end” is there and leaves alot of people hanging and in an endless cycle of suffering. Buddhism kinda takes off from there and allows for anyone to attain “enlightenment” and “Buddhahood” and Nirvana. Buddhism comes from Hinduism and takes off where Hinduism dead ends , if you ask me. Gautama Buddha is comparable to Jesus taking off from the Old Testament and many books have been written on that. I particularly identify with Mahayana Buddhism whos ultimate goal is to obtain Buddhahood (enlightenment) for everyone! to aid in this goal there are several enlightened folks who have “qualified” for Buddhahood but forgo the entrance to Nirvana to help other people on this plane of existence. These great beings are called Bodhisattvas. My favorite is Manjushri.

Tattoo Time

“Manjushri wields the flaming sword that cuts through bullshit. ok technically it cuts through ‘self/other dualism’ which, lets be honest, is the cause of most of people’s struggles.”

This is Manchego’s opinion, but hey, maybe its me and not you. lol

So here is a FUN fact just because from “learnreligions.com”.

“Manjushri’s most dynamic attribute is his sword, the Vajra sword of discriminating wisdom or insight. The sword cuts through ignorance and the entanglements of conceptual views. It cuts away ego and self-created obstacles”, by Judy Lief in ‘The Sharp Sword of Prajna’ “.

So , yeah, I think I am going to get that tattoo with Everest in the background. But let’s get back on point. How to bring any of this back to “the real world”.

“It is easy to be a holy man on the top of a mountain.”

The Razor’s Edge, as Larry leaves the Buddhist monastery in the Himalayas to go back to the city.

A pivotal scene in The Razor’s Edge was when Larry leaves the monastery in the Himalayas. It visually displays what one of my favorite (but wordy) books from Jack Kornfield states from a Zen Master. ” Enlightenment is only the beginning, is only a step in the journey. You can’t cling to that as a new identity or you’re in immediate trouble. You have to get back down into the messy business of life, to engage with life for years afterward. Only then can you integrate what you have learned. Only then can you learn perfect trust.”

So, I think for now I can reconcile the “No Spoon vs More Cowbell” by posing these questions: Are you able to find your own sound and still play in the orchestra? Are you able to find universal peace but walk out of the monastery?

We shall see.

(Purple Cheetos and the Tears of Pane)

A week ago I was lucky enough to be sitting with two friends with the opportunity over dinner and three bottles of wine by a wood fire, to discuss “Life”. You know…the whys and feelings, search for meaning and purpose and all that. The kind of talk that you might rarely have and only with those you are comfortable with. But still, REAL discussion might feel “exposed” and “reveal too much” and thus the comfort of real friends and the loose lips of wine. But how do these deep thought conversations start? Well…I gave it a try.

“Why aren’t there purple cheetos?”

My attempt to delve into deep thoughts and conversation

Having grown up at the time of “Bill and Ted”, “Beavis and Butthead”, “Cheech and Chong”, “Bob and Doug McKenzie”, my first deep thought to get the conversation going was,” why arent there purple cheetos?” I could feel Nicole questioning “this is the deep topic you wanted to discuss?” Feeling I let her down I was ready to admit i may have placed the bar too low I was ready to move on with my tail between my legs. Benny however is quite knowledgeable in many useless but interesting facts and gave us a thorough history of the color purple. It turns out that purple is quite rare in nature and the cultivation and extraction historically was so expensive and time consuming (12,000 shellfish to produce 1.5 grams of dye) that only the wealth and power of Royalty could extract usable amounts. That is until synthetic compounds were discovered like aniline-based, mauveine, in 1856 and Murex dye 6,6′-dibromoindigo. M and M’s added a purple color to its mix way back in 2002. “Great!” I said, grateful for the history lesson but still left empty without purple cheetos in hand ( and purple dust on them…and a purple mouth from licking my fingers). I guess purple ketchup didnt catch on, but I still feel that a bag of rainbow colored cheetos puffs would be a BIG seller…at least to those watching Beavis and Butthead or Cheech and Chong.

Why Do you Climb A Mountain?…seriously.

I drew this incredible stick figure art and pushed it towards Nicole. With an impressive resume’ of a hundred accomplishments on Peakbagger.com and her youth and energy busting out eagerness I asked her, “what do you have to say of this drawing, and tell me WHY do YOU climb peaks?

First off, she said, is that she dissagreed with my image of the upside down mountain on the back of the person at work. ” I love what I do!” she exclaimed convincingly. She went on to describe Knife ridges and exposed cliff edges, scrambles and climbs of times that scared her, times she turned back, and times she found new routes to success of a summit.

“It’s all worth it. Nothing rewarding is ever easy”

Nicole describes some stories of tough summits

“Its the hardest thing I have ever done. It’s a high to see other things that are out there. Views you will never see from the couch. You conquer it at your own pace not others. one foot in front of the other. And it’s all worth it. Nothing rewarding is ever easy.” Nicole’s answers were ones of exploration, challenges, pushing herself, and victory with a reward of accomplishment.

I turn toward my grayer, wiser, and more worldly experienced friend, “Benny, Why do YOU climb peaks. What do you see?”

“I can see into tomorrow…”

Benny’s view was one of symbolic vision into the future

” Symbolically, ” he says, “Its the only place you can see 360 degrees. The realization that its not about ME; it’s about what’s OUT THERE. Below, there are things in the way. Things obstructing my view of tomorrow. Sometimes, like in India, (Benny recounts) I could literally see the sun rise in Tibet at 19,000ft. Literally, I can see into tomorrow. but also, I can see potential. It is this potential that I live for. What FUTURE is next. Is what you know know enough for you? Do you WANT to expand your vision…your understanding. Then one must put away the comfortable things, turn around and look how far you have come. If you do this walk (or climb) for yourself, you will have one experience. If you do it for someone else you will never feel that same way. “

My recollection of my friends’ “exact”words may be flawed, but clearly each of their answers was uniquely personal and different from mine. My drawing tells a thousand words of how at 52 having endured 3 marriages and survived three divorces, the wearing down of my life energy from 30 years of healthcare on nightshift, and the responsibility of being a good happy example and teacher to by children, …I was tired. The weight of a mountain was on my back . By climbing a peak I could feel that nothing was on top of me. I could breath.

Each has their own answer

Nicole is in her early 30’s and has been traveling solo for years. She is challenging herself, seeing new things, and racking up awesome memories and victories. She sees climbing a mountain through those eyes. Benny is 60 and new to his first hard divorce. He wants clarity and to see whats next. He sees the view from the mountain through those eyes. Me (Manchego) is a single debt free52 y.o. new empty nester looking to breathe and for fresh air. I see the mountain peak through those eyes.

Tears of Pane – a personal story

“I looked out the window, (my face inches from the pane of glass), and all I saw was the raindrops as teardrops, my body floating upside down and distorted in this world view in each droplet. The world was painful and crying. and so was I.”

my memory of a painful day in class told to describe what we saw out the window but I could only see a reflection of internal struggle off the pane of glass.

“What do you see?” The individual responses of my friends as to climbing mountains brings to me deeper understanding of this topic of: ” what we see comes from inside us and not simply what is “out there”.”

I was kicked out of high school with only two classes to finish, which the powers that wanted me gone allowed me to take at the community college. One was a writing class for English credit. The other was a Logic class counting as a Math credit. I thereby actually graduated H.S. early, but it was a torturous time as is many 16/17 year olds. I was given this assignment to look out the window of this night class window in downtown Milwaukee at the community college MATC and write a descriptive essay. There was, in reality, a lighted and active work zone with construction workers and machines going and whether they were “building” or “demolishing”, whether there was “new change” , taking out of the old, a marvel of human ingenuity or mechanical dominance…who knows…this was part of the supposed plan of the teacher to get some grand descriptive literary brilliance out of these high school dropouts and immigrants with English as a second language.

“What do you see?” the instructor demanded we write. Well, I worked during the day at a manufacturing plant of chemicals and fiberglass. Then came to this lame ass class reluctantly while dealing with my teen emotions and disasterous future of life as far as I could see. ( which wasn’t very far). In fact, so, that I literally could not see past the sad reflection of my own mind in the room light illumination off the pane of glass before me. As the raindrops coursed down the glass, i felt the drops down my cheeks. “The Pain in the Pane” I believe was the title of the descriptive essay I turned into the teacher. I was the last to leave. I felt it was a brilliant essay of the world before me as seen through my eyes. To my surprise, and building on the pile of crap i felt the world was giving me, I received an “F” on the paper. She wrote on it that there were many grammatical and spelling errors and written on top was, “Not what I was looking for”. I fixed the grammer and spelling and turned in the same paper. I received a “D-“. Perfect! That’s passing.

“That’s not what I was looking for”

Told to me by both my English and Logic instructors

My instructor in my logic course was like the math instructor in the Matt Damon movie, “Good Will Hunting”. As he, on the first day, wrote an assignment for a logic proof on the board , I too felt like Matt Damon. In fact, I didnt do ANY other assignments in the class but worked on this “proof for extra credit” that only one other person in his teaching career had solved. He made it sound pretty much impossible. A “proof” is an argument from a premise to a conclusion using rules of inference. It is a long and intricate verbal math equation. After over a month of working on it , I succeeded. A logic equation is either correct or not and sometimes( usually) there are several ways to get to the correct answer, but the work must be sound. My proof took apart the premise to its basic components, made no assumptions, and rebuilt it using rules of inference “if-then”, “or”, and “not” statements to the final conclusion. Like a web in nature, an extensive proof is intricate and Beautiful! It was beautiful. It took several weeks for my instructor to get back to me his analysis after several promptings. The course was complete and I went to ask about my grade and the proof. He said the proof was technically (logically) correct, howerver, “It was not what he was looking for”. My grade for the whole course was an “F” because I didnt turn in any other assignments, however, the extra credit of a “D” pulled my grade to a “D-“. Perfect! That’s passing.

“A descriptive essay on an outdoor scene, the brilliant intricate dance of a logic proof, or the vision one sees on the peak of a mountain all incorporate our internal minds eye onto the physical world. It is not just what’s physically there; Not just what is transcendently there either. “What do you see” and the reasons for climbing a mountain are individual to the place and time we are in our lives, our previous experiences, and our goals, how we see our place in the World, and visions for our own future.”

-Manchego Phylosophizing on the top of a mountain

The peak is a point in our personal journey

The peak of anything, geometrically, is a point. it is a transition between an “up” and a “down”. In our lives yes, spoiler alert, there will be ups and downs. No one stays long on the summit of a mountain. We do our own internal ceremony, have a snack, a doobie, write in a log or journal, then we stand up and say, (sometimes aloud), “OK”. Stick our hiking pole into the ground. We travel down the mountain. We felt the accomplishment, we temporarily lifted the weight of burdens off our shoulders, and/or we see a clearer vision forward. Like the book states in, “After the Ecstasy, the Laundry” by Jack Kornfield, “Enlightenment is not an end goal; it is just another moment in time.”

And so, we travel onward…climbing our personal mountains…and seeing our own visions with our own eyes.

Not to be read as, ” Energy drinks and better sex”, although that might be a topic for another blog. (lightbulb).

I was fortunate enough to grow up in the eighties. We all thought Reagan was going to nuke the ruskies and Hair bands were our escape from thinking about Armageddon. “Party now for tomorrow we die” was a legitimate and pervasive lifestyle. Yes I was one to grow my hair really long carry a bottle of booze in one hand and a guitar in the other, but before the glory of actually talent and fame, anyone with a broom and prerequisite long hair could be a rock star in their mind. Talent was not required. Confidence and having a good time is attractive. We all want to be around those people at parties. There are the cloths, motions, party activities that are WAY OVER THE TOP. There is energy in that…you can feel the power. By the time Glam rock took the scene, we were talking some REAL CHEESE ! What a time to live!

The World’s greatest Lover

There is a cheesy movie called Don Juan DeMarko starring Johnny Depp. He lives, dresses, and acts as “The world’s greatest lover”. Complete with Spanish outfit, sword, and zorro-like mask. (Major Cheese Alert). As you would have guessed, he is arrested and put on a 10 day psych hold, during which time, Marlon Brando (playing a retiring psychiatrist with lack of spark in his life and marriage to Faye Dunaway) has to decide whether to put Depp on meds and commit him, or the alternative to accept the young man’s story as eccentric but harmless. As we here Johnny’s story we see that it is Brando who has lost who he is and that life is INDEED more romantic and fun believing in the power of this cheesy story. And so the story ends with Depp set free to live a romantic life and Brando and Dunaway dancing the tango happy to have the romantic spark back in their lives …just by allowing in a little cheese.

The Power of cheese

Under my “Manchego” logo there is a subtitle “Power in Cheesy Dreams”. Cheesy is commonly described as “being unnecessary, over the top, to the point of maybe not being genuine. There is always a doubt though as to whether the person is being genuine, and most times we never know. Exaggeration to make a point is how I usually see it. And there is benefit in being cheesy. Let me tell you some true personal stories of the Power of Cheese.

Besides rubbing the gynormous wedge of yellow foam on my head as the Green Bay Packers, down by 2, kick a 54 yard field goal with 2 seconds left…(You will never convince me that that doesnt help)…But besides that, here are REAL examples of benefits of cheese.

I swear I know an old married couple that says gooey things and P.D.A. every 20 minutes . “Sooo Cheesy” some would say, but the cumulative affect is so positive and , given the alternatives, WHY NOT, right? It is over the top, maybe unnecessary, but can we judge the genuineness of the result?

Here’s another true story. A coworker was typing in her passwork at work and said outloud as she typed “this job sucks”. Yes, that was her password which had to be retyped like every 20 minutes. So… I swear to God, I changed my password to “HAPPINESS”. Knowing that every 20 minutes I had to retype “h.a.p.p.i.n.e.s.s”. A positive reminder to be happy. Cheesy right?! But which way was better to go through the day?

Another true story, and I am not kidding at all:

I arrived in Montana at age 27 and never had a dog. I got a black lab runt no one wanted and its name previously given was “kitty”. Gun shy and small, this dog wasn’t wanted by most bird hunters in Montana. She was Fabulous! Best dog I ever had, but I DID change her name. I seriously named her “Joy”. So that every morning when I opened the back door to let her in from doing her business, I would yell, for all neighbors to hear, “Joy! Joy! Joy!” Cheesy to the max I know. I stopped short of getting personal license plates reading “I.N.JOY”. But that would have been the king cheese move.

The Birth of Manchego

Yes I love this cheese and will resupply with regular drops of it while on the A.T. , but that is not the story of why it is my trail name. Here is that story that very few people know. A lady hiking friend had introduced me to healthier eating when I met her at the Timberline trail around Mt. Hood in Oregon. Allergic to cow milk, she could tolerate sheep cheese and so I was introduced to the buttery, nutty magnificence of Manchego cheese from the La Mancha region of Spain. With all the romance of Don Juan, this cheese and I were soul mates. I love this cheese.

Now, my name is really Tony. I ,for real, analyze poop and pee in a hospital lab. Boring right, but I joked with people at work that after midnight they should call me “Antonio”. I dont know, it sounds more sexy and mysterious , right? I suppose it was kind of like the old country song that says , “…all the girls get prettier at closing time.” (Night shift people have to entertain themselves.) So now, in the kitchen of this hiking friend, a much younger and pretty lady, I had a moment of playfulness when a good song came on the radio. I grabbed her to dance and like a sexy Spaniard with a rose in his mouth during the tango, I took a hunk of Manchego cheese between my teeth, and in my sexiest latin voice said, ” My name is Antonio Manchego”. I am sure there was laughter…but I also felt younger and sexier, and pretty darn happy in that moment. We hike a few more times after that, (no more to tell there) but the “idea” of “Antonio Manchego” lived on in my head. It was cheesy, unnecessary, and over the top, but it WAS genuine. Antonio Manchego wasnt a mask that was put on, instead he was in me. it was a persona that was released and allowed to surface free of worry, if only in that moment. I have chosen to live more like that.

Why go to Nepal? Some would say it is unnecessary and over the top. Why hike 2200 miles?…

These goals release the bigger me, open the sexier world, revitalize the youth of living. I believe there is “power in cheesy dreams”.

Now SAY OUTLOUD with me, in a sexy Spanish accent…

” My name is ANTONIO MANCHEGO “

(These initial blog posts are meant for you to get to know me more, interlaced with my life commentary from real experiences before we begin our journey together on the Appalachian Trail in June and soon to happen Himalayan Trek this April 2021. I hope you enjoy. Please comment below and subscribe for update notification. Thank You.) – Manchego

“Only what you bring with you.”

Spoken in my worst Yoda voice when asked, “what’s in there?” A reference to Luke Skywalker entering the cave on Degobah.

We got interested in finding and exploring caves after we found one Geocaching. After we learned some rope work we were more confident in descending, knowing we could get back out. Passageways can be vertical or horizontal and squeezing through is often required. YOU CAN’T BRING MUCH WITH YOU WHEN YOU ENTER A CAVE. Not much fits on the outside that doesnt get in the way and in a more anxious and fearful way, not much can be unresolved on the inside.

” Get out of your Head!”

Told to me when I was paralyzed on a steep scree chute in GNP attempting a mountain summit waiting for a rockslide to kill us.

When stripped of external material things, you are left with inner baggage. Some of which is heavy, some paralyzing, some a clear distortion of outer reality created by past experiences that have nothing to do with the current situation. But we think it does, and as we ‘ live in our head’ we come face to face with fears, abuse, sadness, anger, loneliness dumped in our rucksack of our minds which weighs us down and prevents progress along our journey of discovery.

Some people can transform as they go. They are the ones that can tweek their diets and lose weight. They take baby steps and are disciplined enough to have those add up to meaningful change they sought. I have never lost weight that way. ALL OR NOTHING unfortunately has been the best formula for me.

I sold almost everything except what would fit in my truck and a small cargo trailer. Thinking that having shed the external baggage, I could now focus on the internal. It didnt work; I am not disciplined enough. And so now i will strip down to only what will fit in a backpack…and walk. A thru-hike of the Appalachian Trail is more a mental game after the first 400 miles. If I can physically make 400 miles in 40 days, I will spend the next 1800 miles and next 175-ish days on an internal trek. It will mostly be an internal battle from there on. Many emotional struggles, learning to let go, practicing mental discipline, dealing with all the dark forces that keep me from being one with the Eternal. I look forward to the exploration of the inner self, the shedding of external and internal baggage, the transformation, and the ‘getting out of my head’. On this A.T. thru-hike, I am entering the cave.

“We go around the corner and into the shadow. I don’t know what’s there, but that’s the way we go.”

Manchego to his son in the Wind River Range

Why leave a beautiful field of flowers for cold rocks of the unknown? Because THAT’s the journey. This field of flowers is amazingly beautiful but was UNKNOWN just the night before. Discovery only comes from leaving. What beauties await discovery tomorrow? We shall see…journey on…but not as a sadness of leaving, but as an excitement of what is to be discovered.

The youngest of my boys was turning 18 and I knew it would be a life transition for the both of us. I was divorced and stayed to raise them, but now I could leave for something else. But What? All I knew was that it was time to strip away the old to allow the new to emerge. Stripping down is what I did. I sold my mobile home and lot for only enough to pay my debts in entirety. I then sold and gave away most of my belongings. I quit my job of 26 years with zero savings and zero retirement. (I cashed out for a trip to Israel 6 years prior). I had 20,000 dollars from selling my life collection of “things”. camper, motorcycle, guns , furniture, trailer, boats. With only 20grand, I became homeless and unemployed and hit the road 3 weeks after my sons 18th bday. I left a great life, but I wanted to see what was around the corner.

“You can do ANYTHING, but you can not do EVERYTHING!
First decide what you want, then how to get it done, then be willing to give up everything else.”

MANCHEGO TO HIS BOYS

I have started this blog at age 52 after several lifetimes worth of Adventures. I have started it now just prior to attempting to thru-hike the Appalachian Trail and train and Trek to Mount Everest Base Camp. I decided to try and remove myself from Facebook but I wanted a platform to continue to share my life’s journeys with family and friends. If you follow me on these journeys, I will also share the backstories of how I came to be me…here…homeless and unemployed, but still making my dreams happen. As cheesy as that sounds. You will also eventually here the story of my trail name “Manchego” , and follow me and my son on a 6 month adventure along the Appalachian Trail. Stay with me as I learn how to use this blog format. sign in and leave me comments which will build our friendship , answer your questions, and motivate me by knowing you are out there. Let the new adventures begin!