1. Not the True Way
May 11, 1996
“If a path that can be followed is not the true path, why do Bears shit right on the trail?”
Standing on the stream-smooth rocks in the bed of Redwood Creek, the water’s not that deep, and I begin to blow the conch, then chant the “Heart of the Perfection of Great Wisdom Sutra” in both Zen-Japanese and Americano, plus some other old magic chants in no known language, while more conch-blowers join in. Those who know the cantos start in chanting. The group circles closer and the last shoes are tied and water bottles packed. It’s mid-May, a great day for another walk on Mt. Tamalpais. It must be about seven-thirty in the morning.
Carole and my stepdaughter Robin KJ had driven in to the town of Davis the night before to join me. We ate dinner out and put up in the Ecolodge Motel with a five a.m. wake-up.
Just light, we drove the 80 west to the 37, west to the 101 down to coast highway numero uno, going over and toward the ocean past Green Gulch and back a bit up the valley to Redwood Creek and the lower Muir Woods parking lot. Now we are at the bottom of the water cycle almost at sea level in the endless play of rock and rain.
Friends turn up in cars, and three whole classes of students from UC Davis. Also there are a few faculty colleagues who are not ashamed to be walkers.
We cross the creek on a rickety temporary bridge, duck through some overgrowth, and head up the (famous) Dipsea trail — soon in the open — stretch our legs out along the meadows and live oak groves. It feels like I’ve been doing this for lifetimes now.
This is an excerpt from the article published in the March/April 2009 issue of Orion. Purchase this issue, take advantage of our free trial offer ($19 for six gorgeous issues) for the print magazine, or subscribe to the equally beautiful digital edition ($10 for six issues) for the full text.