JOURNEY - on Mastering Ukemi Daniel Linden (feel good novels txt) 📖

one of the reasons people practice aikido, you know. It puts a little perceived adventure in their lives without the danger of karate or the hard work of judo. The ones that stay do so because they perceive the truths and wonders and the ones that quit go back to writing reports.”

“Do you still want to travel?” Christian asked.

“Yeah. I still do. When Curtis and I took off and traveled around Europe after I taught those seminars in Frankfurt, we had no itinerary, no real plans, no reservations; we just took off and we had a wonderful time. We got caught in an early season blizzard up in the Alps. We got to spend the morning after Swarzenegger was elected as Governor of California celebrating in the streets; we were, ironically, in Austria that morning when the news spread. Oh, we had a fine time.

Later we cracked open bottles of good German white wine and had wild stag sausage on an overlook above the castle in Liechtenstein. It’s funny how the simple memories can often bring the most pleasure. The jokes and friendship, the dinners with people along the way; they are the soul of travel.”

“Where would you go if you could go anywhere? I mean if money and time and inconvenience were not issues, or if Mrs. Linden wouldn’t mind you going?

“We’re planning a trip to Morocco later this year or perhaps next year. The trouble is my wife still works and only has access to a certain amount of time off, so we need to decide how best to use it.”

“Where would you go if it was just you?” Christian asked.

“I’d have to think about that.” I said.

“Is there any place you’d like to go back to?” he asked.

“Well, I’ve always wanted to go back to Nepal and hike the long road from Jiri, again. That was the old route that the early trekkers took to prepare them for the assault on Mt. Everest. It takes about two weeks and you start where the road ends and then head east over one pass after the next. It’s brutal, but when you get to Lukla and see the clean, fresh trekkers flying in from Kathmandu, well, it’s a feeling. That’s all I can tell you. You’ve been to places that are only rarely visited by people from the outside world. Of course, then I’d like to go on to the bazaar at Namche and from there up to the Tengboche Monastery. That’s a trip I’d like to do again.” I poured the rest of the beer into my glass and held up the pitcher towards Christian along with an eyebrow, but he declined and I set it back down on the tabletop. “Yeah, I think that would be an interesting trip to do again. Especially now that the Maoist rebels have been making trekking in Nepal so dangerous. Those villages are perched on the sides of the hills and the rebels come in and simply assume control. They rob and threaten the tourists and trekkers with death, and torture and all, but mostly they steal from them in the name of the revolution.

“I don’t know. Maybe I wouldn’t want to put myself in that kind of situation. I’ve been in one war with communists and it was really unpleasant. Maybe I don’t really want to put myself in that kind of situation again. You know, after you do a trip like that you forget the hours and hours of climbing switchbacks straight up out of mountain valleys. You forget how you need to take one breath for each step you take and then as you get higher and higher you need to take two breaths for each step. Once you get to the pass and start down the way gets even harder because your knees and calves have to fight gravity that wants to pull you down the slippery clay and rock paths. You need to constantly lean on your poles and be really careful you don’t lose your balance because a sprained ankle or broken leg is at least five days trek away from a doctor.

“Maybe I’m just too old to go through all that again. What about you, Christian? Anyplace that you’ve ever wanted to go?”

“I don’t know. You see all the National Geographic magazines lying around and think about all the places in the world that might be cool to visit, but most people just don’t know how. You know? I mean, take Bali, for instance. That would be great, as long as the Muslims don’t kill you. And Africa is pretty cool, too. I think seeing Mount Kilimanjaro would be great. But Muslims are trying to kill people there, too. Not to mention all the tribal unrest and the white and black thing in South Africa and in Somalia and what not. And you talked about Turkey; Istanbul must be amazing as long as the Muslims there don’t kill you. Israel or Damascus are really ancient and there has to be a lot of great things to see as long as you don’t get killed by the Muslims while riding a bus or eating in a restaurant or walking down the street.”

“Christian, I’m detecting a theme here.”

“What, that I don’t want to get killed?”

“Well, yeah.”

“You don’t see me visiting New York either, even though I’m sure it’s a great place to visit as long…”

“…As the Muslims don’t blow up the building you are in.” I finished.

“Right.”

“Christian, you can’t live your life trying not to get killed.”

“Well, you’re the one who brought it up.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“There are a lot of places you can visit without worrying about dying.”

“Name one.”

“No. I’m not going to play that game with you. I’m going to put it on to you to start living your life like a warrior and as your tactical approach I want you