Meridian Walks the Earth

fiction? note:fiction? does not mean for me that I am writing just fiction. It means to me that I am writing the highest truths I can as safely as I can for both me and you. I use this demarkation to protect your sensibilities and my life from unnecessary harm. If you see the truth you will be reinforced. Therefore there are always hundreds of levels of perception written within writings demarked (fiction?) including Galactic codes for earth governments to decipher. It has been this way since my first contact with Elohar and Ragna from 7000+ AD on the alternate timeline who live near the Matterhorn on the border of Italy and Switzerland. I first met them when they arrived here from 7028 AD probably September or October of that year when they visited me in 1969. At the time I was 21 and had lost any real meaning in my life to stay alive any longer because I had broken up with my then, love of my life that I had planned the next 20 to 40 years of my life around. I had also been excommunicated from the church I was raised in for being too alternative for their tastes. So when they came and told me that something I would do would prevent the extinction of the human race I told them, "I have absolutely no reason to live on for myself. However, if my life keeps the human race alive then I will live on for them." So I dedicated myself to finding out how my life saved humanity from extinction.

At this point I think it is mostly through my writing. However, I could be wrong. It could be from other means as well. Time will tell. However, I'm 60 years old now so we'll see. end note.

Begin Story.

When I was young one of my teachers said to me, "If you live to be 100, you will live to be 500. If you live to be 500, you will live to be 1000. If you live to be 1000, you will live to be 5000. If you live to be 5000, you will live to be 10,000."

At the time I remember thinking, "This can be true, can it?" However, because this person was a very wise teacher, I had to consider it as a possiblity because thousands to millions of people on earth consider him to be like a Jesus of these times. So I had to at least consider the possiblity that he might be telling me the absolute truth!

I had dedicated myself to becoming enlightened in my teens after having almost died from two childhood ilnesses. Both I and my best friend in Junior High and High School tended to be much more serious than our compatriots because of our near death experiences, he from childhood polio and I from whooping cough and childhood epilepsy. Let's put it this way. Silly, we were not. We were survivors. We played but we were never silly. We were serious survivors always. I suppose the silliest we ever got was when I was 16. He convinced me into getting drunk with some buddies while he stayed sober and drove my 56 ford stationwagon. Although this was a mistake as I lost a front cap on one of my front teeth in a fight and had a scar on my check for a year that was a hit to the cheekbone it created a positive outcome. I could not drink and get drunk. I was allergic to alcohol. My normal kindly self turned into an asshole when drunk. So I vowed to never get drunk again to protect everyone. To this day I have succeeded in this over 40 years later. This didn't mean I didn't have a glass of wine or a beer once a month or every six months after I was 21. It just meant I never drank to excess ever again to protect everyone from myself. This was an excellent idea because I am 6 feet 4 1/2 inches tall and big boned and if angered could easily bring someone down permanently with one or two blows. So, as you can see I have REALLY been protecting mankind from my size and my allergy to alcohol.

So this has allowed me to be relatively clear headed except for college like most people in the late 1960s. I was 21 in 1969.

I didn't get to India until 1985&6 even though I had been thinking about India, Nepal and even Tibet since I was in my teens. I think the first time I considered the Himalayas was when I saw the 1930s version of "Shangri-la" in the 1950s. My father and mother were also taken with all the mysteries of Tibet, Nepal and India too. So they encouraged me to stay telepathic, talking to angels and good spirits and embarking on a path that took me to soul travel. I started mountain climbing and rock climbing with friends in Yosemite and and Idylwild, Ca.
So with my friend, a student from UCLA and often other friends too, we climbed Mt. Shasta 14,161 feet and Mt. San Gorgonio mountain, which is well over 11,000 feet and the tallest mountain in southern California. In November 1969, I almost died there I was climbing with two kids, one 17 and the other age 16. Unfortunately, their youthful decisions put my life at stake. When I stopped to fix a broken strap on my snowshoes on my back they went on and took a different trail than I knew about. After I fixed my snowshoes strap to my backpack I went on thinking their was only one trail to the summit. However, since I was 21 and not 16 or 17, I felt much more responsible for their well being than they did for my well being and reached the summit very late at 4 pm. Since this route was 10 miles in and 10 miles out I was in trouble. Since I didn't see them on the Summit or before I assumed they must have taken a different route down. As I reached the Summit of Mt. San Gorgonio I was in a 100 mile an hour ice storm. Since I didn't want my face sandblasted of from pieces of ice travelling 100 miles an hour I covered my face with plastic which kept me from going blind and my face from bleeding from ice impacts on it at that wind speed. However, the sound of ice hitting my plastic face cover was deafening. Finally, I was able to get below where the wind was that strong and I used the large sheet of bendable clear plastic for what I intended it for, sliding down the snow about 3 thousands feet vertically into the valley back toward slushy meadows. By now the sun had gone down and it was getting dark and I was starting to get cold and had already traveled about 15 miles by foot that day. As I strapped on my snowshoes I had a moment to think about my situation and realized I might be screwed. I sensed I only had about a 50-50 chance of making it back to my car. However, the only way I was going to make it was one step at a time.

However, then it suddenly got worse. I was walking in my snowshoes in about 10 feet or more of snow down the valley when suddenly I must have walked over an 8 or 9 feet tall manzinita bush and fell through. The nickname of this bush is "ironwood". For example if you run through a manzinita bush it will literally rip off your clothes and your flesh and this is what I fell into through the snow. I found myself hanging upside down being poked by hundreds of manzinita branches. Though I was cut in many places on my hands and face my clothes took the brunt so I wasn't impaled or dying from the incident.

I was so tired from climbing a mountain and already having walked through the snow 15 miles that my reaction was to cry out from the pain. I felt I might not survive this extra ordeal because of my energy level. Finally, I got angry enough to release the straps of my snowshoes which dropped me fully into the ironwood manzinita bush. More cuts and bruises but at least I was rightside up now so I scrambled out through the snowhole my body falling into the bush made and got up on top of the bush again on top of the ten feet or more of snow. Getting my snowshoes on without falling through the snow again was a real chore but somehow after that experience I tread very softly on the snow and went to the edge of the valley where I knew manzinita bushes would be less likely away from the stream I was following down the valley. By now it was dark and when I found the trail eventually it was covered with both ice and rocks. My flashlight wasn't working well and finally gave out because of my fall through the manzinita bush. Finally by 9 or 10 pm I made it by God's grace back to my car. By then, the ranger had been called and my father was there preparing a rescue team to come get me the next morning. My father was going to try that night alone to find me. Though I was exhausted I survived the ordeal but it took me a week to recover from the cold and exertion.

Well. I guess it all got away from me but if I change the title now none of you who like this spontaneous kind of writing will be able to find it so I guess I'm just going to go with it.

About 1 year and one month later during Christmas vacation from College I picked up to of my buddies, one from UCLA and one from Sacramento State University in my '66 VW bug seablue in color and headed with all our winter gear to Mt. Shasta. It was December 1970. Remember there were no cell phones, GPS indicators, or home computers or all the stuff you are used to today. I don't think the tv weathermen and women were even using Satellites then during their weather reports.

As we got near to Mt. Shasta I realized that I had driven 14 or more hours straight from San Diego where I went to college all the way up Mt. Shasta to Bunny Flats to park my VW bug. When we got there there was already 5 feet of snow with 2 feet packed and another 3 powder on top. Looking back since it was getting dark then, we should really have gone with another option. But at the time I was the oldest at age 22. At the time we didn't want to spend money on a motel for the night and decided despite the snowstorm to climb to Horse Camp(owned by the Sierra Club) and at that time used as an Emergency shelter for mountain climbers to shield them from severe weather at tree line(the altitude where trees stop growing). On Mt. Shasta this is around 9000 feet or so depending on which face of the mountain N,S,E,W you are talking about.

As we hiked towards Horse Camp( about 1 1/2 miles and about 2000 feet climb in elevation) the conditions turned into a white out. In this case it meant we could barely see our hands outstretched in front of us and could no longer see the contours of the land. When we must have gone in a circle and met our tracks we knew we were in trouble. We considered going back to my car but realized the snow was coming down so hard and fast we might not find the car or the road. At this point I realized I had overdone during the day and also wasn't adjusting quickly enough to the changes in temperature so I began to throw up from 14 hours of driving since San Diego and being in around 20 degrees Fahrenheit or below.

My buddy from Sacramento State had been to a snow survival training course the previous week in the High Sierras and suggested that we dig a snow cave so we didn't die in these conditions. He said, "Likely this storm will pass during the night and if we can just survive the night in a snow cave we will be okay."

So we took off our snow shoes in a likely place and started to dig a snow cave with our snowshoes. It was fairly easy digging because a lot of the snow was powder. However, this also meant that it would collapse unless the snow was dug starting about 2 to 3 feet down from the surface so the weight of the snow on itself had caused it to pack some. We dug a cave 6 feet by 6 feet and about 3 feet high and curved the ceiling (rounded it) so the ceiling wouldn't drip on us but instead roll along the curve of the ceiling to the edge.

I had always been a little claustrophobic since I had had whooping cough at age 2 and had almost died of suffocation then so I asked to be on the outside nearest to the entrance. They both agreed. During the night the snow I was laying in in my sleeping bag melted in the cave so I was very wet from my belt to the tips of my toes. I was a little concerned I might freeze to death when I got out of the home made snow cave the next morning. We all had convulsive shaking from the cold during the night. It starts with your teeth chattering and then moves to freezing to death convulsions and shaking all night long. When we began to see light through the snow I started to dig out since we had closed the entrance to try to maintain more warmth. It really didn't matter if we couldn't breathe well if we had frozen to death during the night.

Finally, I reached the surface and let out a whoop of joy that we had survived the night. And quickly my Levi jeans froze solid except for the knees so even though the temperature couldn't have been more than 25 degrees Fahrenheit out, my frozen pants insulatated me enough to survive.

Later, since the visibility was about 1 mile even though still overcast we slowly made our way back to my car. However, the only thing visible of my car was the tip of the radio aerial sticking out of the snow. We were still not going anywhere obviously. We could hear a large snow blower truck plowing the road several miles away. We all cheered knowing we were going to live. The storm we were in had dropped about 5 feet of powder snow in a freak storm not predicted by local weathermen. Even though it took us about 4 or 5 days taking turns soaking in a hot tub in a motel to be able to function right and to make all our toes, fingers and joints work right, eventually we were all fairly normal again except all my big joints hurt a lot for about 2 to 3 years after that because I had come so close to freezing to death. It also killed my heat and cold senses a lot and so it is hard to tell when I'm cold or hot. sometimes I have to almost freeze and get hypothermia or get so hot I'm almost passing out to really know what temperature my body is but at least we three guys survived that interesting ordeal.