Part Two - Chapter Seven
7. Chapter Seven
Christopher Robin and Owl walked along, under branches laid up by the moon, posing odd questions to Owl and Eeyore, as the days disappeared all to soon.
Loggins and Mecina
House at Pooh Corner.
It had been some time since Steve, under the oppressive nature of things, abandoned the job with the failing Radio Station he had taken a job with out of college, and chose the relief of a few months lounging in the pool at his Mothers in Florida.
After an appropriate enough time under the south Florida sun, he found an opportunity that let him out from under the thumb of his mother.
He worked out a deal with a department store, and got some management training. He moved to a small town in Georgia to become an assistant manager at one of their branch stores. The three of us had been corresponding by mail for some time. We thought we knew it all, not that we do now, but we certainly can see now we had no clue back then.
Bob Dylan had it right, oh so right, "ah but I was so much older then, I am much younger than that now." Sorting out the visions and trying to follow what is right for us in this lifetime is so hard. It is easy, when we glimpse the past and the futures, to think we have such power and direction.
We don't, not even in the slightest. None of that ritual or wording or phrasing has any more power than what you have in your soul. I have seen much in this life, and I have seen much from my other lives.
It isn't power or privilege to have this, no, I think it is maturity if you follow my meaning. The experience, the lives, the pain. If I used this insight to manipulate for personal gain, it would not be open for me to see it. Perhaps of my own choosing, but isn't that what each of our lives is all about? It is that free will thing again. You have it use it. Never give control over to another, you are in control.
With Steve in Florida and Phil and I sharing the opposite sides of a large city we only had our letters and an occasional phone call. We had talked for some time about trying to get together. It had been a long time, couple of years since Steve took off. We were missing the closeness of our relationship and the magick that occurred when we got together.
Steve suggested that we get together for a camping trip in the Appalachian mountains near where he was living. It sounded like the perfect fit. So it was on.
We spent a couple of weeks gathering our things together. We were going to drive into the woods as far as we could then hike back and find some secluded location. We were going to find a place where we could meet the ET's. We knew if we could get to the right place they would come to us. How we knew I cannot say, but it was true and we knew it. It was our hope that in this event it would come clear why we were here, what we were doing and that our subconscious minds would be opened up to understand and see all.
Phil drove a Green Bomb Station Wagon. She was what I would call a real Betsy, if you know what I mean. A "Betsy" was one of those cars that you gave a name, usually a female persona. She was your best friend, the date you never had. A woman you had to coax to start and keep going. She could and would be cantankerous, but you loved her all the same. No one in their right mind who could afford a choice would buy her. But she would go for you with love and encouragement.
Phil maintained his father had picked the car out for him and had it checked over by a mechanic. I think that car was meant for him and if it had been inspected for any other purchaser she would have failed miserably. That green bomb was one dependable car, right up to the day he walked away from her. She blew her water pump.
Phil picked me up early Friday morning. I could not afford to take a lot of time off so we decided to make it a long weekend. It was a ten hour drive near as we could guess, so an early start was prudent. We would get in Friday night, make final plans then head to a camping spot Saturday morning.
We would camp Saturday night, Sunday night and return to Steve's apartment Monday, and return home on Tuesday. We would head directly south down I65 through Kentucky.
The leaving was always the good part. Getting away. There is magick in leaving behind the routine, breaking out of the cobwebs that gather and hold us down to the routine. Getting out frees the mind and allows you to see once again all that is possible. What an adventure adventures are.
For us it has always been Magick, the trips the getting away. And we have seen some amazing things. Have you ever been to Mammoth Cave? Wow what power there is there, the silence and the dark and the dragons. Have you ever been to any of the Ancient Native American sites? Ancient in this land and wonderful. Have you ever stood at the base of a 400 foot coastal redwood looking up into the canopy, listening to the silence of the wood, feeling the power of that silence?
This would be our first trip through Kentucky and the dark world that exists in the limestone caves there. We were aligned with the white lighters then. Ignorant of what was happening. We were so discordant with the yin energy there and we felt it. They were there, the dark ET's, yes aliens working their own agendas. We walked like naked babies into their world.
What a relief it was to leave the limestone country of Kentucky behind.
We made good time and found Steve, got some dinner and started pouring over the maps to determine exactly where we would go. It was like we never were apart. Just the three of us, what fun we had.
We studied the maps and found an old logging road that went back into the Appalachians and looked like a fairly good remote area. We needed a remote area if we were to get the visitation we wanted. We knew if we meditated and sent out the right energy, we could call them and they would come.
I came here to live through the coming catastrophe, and I knew once we met with them, I would remember. What I also hoped was that I would remember how to forget the ingrained training that was given me over my lifetime. I would be free of the bounds on the physical limitations of this life. All would be open to me, once I have a conscious free meeting with them, those mentally created physical boundaries will vanish. It is the key to me remembering all that I know I can do. Telepathy, telekinesis, teleportation, it would change all things in my mind from their current form to the illusions that they are.
Ever read Richard Bach's Illusions? The story of the reluctant messiah?
It is a clarifying experience.
We got some dinner and headed out to the grocery store and filled the list we had prepared. We went right to bed planning on an early start Saturday morning. We had about an hour to drive to find the logging road and then who knew how much further.
That early start dragged on as we loaded the car, then got breakfast, then picked up more supplies, then tried to find the right roads.
The roads were pretty easy to find and so was the logging road, except when we got to it, we found that it was not in repair. We could only go down it for about 500 yards. Trees and ruts made it impassable for the green bomb. We parked it in the road, no one is going to go by us on this road, hell no one would find it. Unlikely that anyone has gone down this road for years.
We abandoned our green bomber, "Betsy" and loaded up our packs and headed out on down the road.
We hoped to find a hilltop or mesa where it was flat that we could set up camp after we got back into the woods. We needed a place where they could land their ship.
We followed that old logging road back quite a ways climbing over downed trees and after a while decided it would be better to get off the road, but the only alternative was up the hill to the left. It was steep a good 40 degree incline. So we attacked the hill. It looked like after a fashion it leveled out, could be just the type of mesa-like top we were looking for.
It was rough going, loose footing, sliding on leaves and dirt, grabbing at trees trying to stay the climb. The leaves gave way to that bright red Georgia clay. Slipping and sliding. The trees were saplings mostly with a few that measured up to 3 or 4 inches in diameter. This land had been logged long ago. The virgin timber was long gone in the lust for wealth that tears up the Eco system. Without the ground cover the ground gave way easily to erosion and our feet. There were no sound root systems to hold the earth down.
Shear determination pushed me on towards our common goal. Phil paced himself, Steve in the middle, I pushed ahead. Pushed myself up that hill. I looked back once to see Phil on his belly sliding backwards, catch a tree then pull himself up. Reaching out ahead of me I grasped for a one inch diameter sapling that could not hold my weight. I put my foot against the base to hold my position. Stretching out to find another tree base that could hold my weight.
A crash and I see Steve in a slide, but he catches himself easily enough. Hindsight of years would have had us trying another way, but we were at least half way up. Not going to have any adversity stop us now!
To be honest, while we had camped before, Steve and I that is, we had not really camped with someone who knew what they were doing.
We brought what we thought we would like and need. We brought foods that were easy to fix. Freeze dried foods were not to be had back then, but if they were they were so expensive that we could not afford them.
About this time the weight of those canned goods in my pack were burning in the muscles in my legs. Half way up push on, go, you can make it and once there you can rest. You can sit down, put up that hammock, swing in the breeze.
Huffing and puffing I pushed on and grabbed for trees that were the size of closet poles. Pushing up that incline of at least 40 degrees, that incline that now seemed to me to be 90 degrees.
I wondered to myself, did I have the Iron Skillet or did Steve. We must be idiots.
"what..." came his puffing reply.
"Do you have the Iron Skillet or do I?"
"Wasn't it your idea to bring it?"
"Naw, I wouldn't suggest something so stupid."
"Seems to me it was your idea." said Steve.
"Naw, you must have dreamt that part."
Got to stop and rest, take a break. I balanced my weight against another of those pole trees, looked back down the hill. Now it did look 90 degrees up. Steve plugging along, actually catching up. He glanced up and I caught his eyes, huffing an puffing, I said, "Slowpoke...".
He cracked a smile and put his head back down and he would push ahead just to beat me up there. The competition of childhood friends.
Over his shoulder was Phil, doing the smart thing. Hell he had been in the guard, he knew better than to push like we were doing. He went his own pace. Come to think of it, I think he had us carrying all the canned goods... Oh I don't know, but good thing our lives didn't depend on this outing. We should be dead of stupidity.
Afraid that Steve was catching up too closely, I willed myself on and got up, turned and pushed on up the hill.
I did beat Steve up there, but not by much. It must have taken a good 40 minutes to climb that hill, but we were lucky enough to have it top out to a nice flat place where we had a good view of the sky.
I shrugged off my pack and collapsed.
Steve, in a macho display of unwillingness to admit defeat trotted on to see if the next rise off of this one was one we should seriously investigate. He went on, and I knew he would want us to go on to there, but I knew that once Phil got to the top, he would go no further.
"Come on, we will get a better view over there." Steve pleaded. But I knew this was bravado, he was just as exhausted as I was. I did have to admit I had a curiosity, but no strength to investigate.
Phil's head finally began to peer over the rise, working slowly and doggedly, he made his way over to me, shrugged off his pack. Breathing heavily, he said, "This is the spot." Heaving deep breaths, I knew this was a dictate of exhaustion rather than of knowing.
Smiling, I looked at Steve who finally succumbed to the inevitable and he dropped his pack and collapsed while he showered us with a wide smile.
We got the tent set up in the next hour or so, at Steve's urging. I had to chuckle to myself, had I been behind him on the climb, I would have done the same thing. After the tent was setup, I went to getting a tree pair for my hammock. You know two trees spaced just far apart enough for my hammock yet strong enough not to bow together under my weight.
I didn't do much more that day. I think we had camp in place by about 4PM that day. All in all we had not done much in the way of distance traveling. But that was alright. We were together, had found a place remote enough that they could come visit us. Maybe take us away so we could do what we all wanted. Travel in space, see the Earth from out there.
More than anything else, I wanted to be awake. I wanted to know what I knew, but could not remember.
Here years later, as I have had an awakening slowly but not all of the things I know I know, and nothing to release the power I know exists in us all.
I tell you all now, there is a price for that awakening. One so high that there are few of us who will ever be willing to pay.
Memories. Memories bub. There is not a soul who has ever lived in human form on this earth that can face them head on and not waver.
You block them out and move ahead. If you don't control them you leave.
Steve never say die...
"You fixin'?", I say.
"Who has the pans?", he answers.
"I think we put those in Phil's pack didn't we?"
Phil turns his head to look at us, gives us this "I will get you for this." look and jerks his head at his pack which he has not touched since he took it off. Turns out he had the Iron Skillet. Must have been his idea I think to myself. Naw, it was me.
Phil gives us a look and tells Steve to get out the chicken, and his look is so exhausted it says all over it, "Quit kidding around."
Camp setup, dinner of Kentucky Fried Chicken. Yes we the enlightened of the earth, idiots of the camp at least had the audacity and foresight to bring dinner already prepared.
That potato salad was heavy.
Dinner done, fire started, we sat and watched the light fade from the evening. We had one tent large enough to share.
There was a light breeze moving through the trees. Exhausted, we sat with the light fading and the stars popping out and rested in silence. There would be no meditation this evening, we were all in.
We banked the fire with stones and headed to the tent. Phil was the last in and though we did not see it, he stopped and looked out into the woods. The hair on the back of his neck stood up. A silent foreboding touched him. But vanished quickly. We were safe this night, and far too tired to feel anything but sleep.