Elk
Springs, Colorado
Butch’s World
We
are in the area traversed (or rather galloped) by the notorious Butch Cassidy
and the Sundance Kid. Butch was apparently a thief, a robber of banks and of
horses. One local person told myself and the boys that Butch would send photos
of himself in the fine clothes he had stolen to the actual merchant he had
taken them from. That sounds like pouring salt on the wounds.
We
were cooking our kitchari outside at Maybell’s park when the history of the
West was coming our way.
Backtracking
to Steamboat Springs was intended for chanting and a chat about Tales From Trails at the Sundance Yoga
Studio last evening. Talaya hosted us, and the group that showed up was great. They
especially liked the philosophical point that we are not our bodies. “The body
is the vehicle and our soul is the engine that mobilizes the body.”
I
believe that Butch Cassidy, in a big way, was taking his body to be the self: perhaps
even considering himself as God and thus
doing whatever he so wished.
Today
has been an interesting day of meeting motorists. One person from Maine offered
me water. So did a fellow from Boulder. A mystery donor left two fresh bottles
of spring water on the shoulder of the road, for me, no doubt. How kind. There’s
no one else around. It’s a desert here.
One
final guy, 55, said he was from Saskatchewan. He pulled his truck over, walked
up to me where I was trekking at Elk Springs, a ghost town of sorts, and asked,
“Can yah come and visit me?”
“Where
do you live?”
He
pointed to his truck and let down the tailgate. There we sat and chatted.
“Why
is there so much pain in the world,” he asked. “I thought a monk would know.”
“Because
people forget to count their pleasures and gifts,” I said.
May
the Source be with you!
20
miles
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