Author Archives: H.H. Bhaktimarg Swami

Monday, July 17th, 2017
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Serpent River, Ontario
By the Serpent
There, it was nice on the feet, feeling the moss under them, as well as grass, twigs and stones.  Some spots were wet, some dry.  We were all barefoot, feeling the same sensations underneath in the park at Serpent River, the youth’s annual place to chill after a hectic but elated time in Toronto.
Unique about the river itself is the way it twists—it actually snakes around.  At the end of the rapids, I traditionally dip in and allow the current to give way to the natural water-slide which then pushes you farther into an easy-going whirlpool.

The boys love it.  They took advantage of a canoe left for use.  This is native territory and perhaps the conveyance is shared by those who can appreciate its purpose.  There’s thirty of them (the boys) and then adults to guide and supervise.  I wish there had been a Conscious program for guys like me when I was a young teen.

As usual, I’m not one to wait for everyone to get ready for the next destination.  I mentioned to Kish that I needed to get some more serious walking in than an amble on the moss.

“How long before you pick me up, going westbound?” I asked Kish, the person mainly in charge.

“Oh, about two or three hours.”

“Fine!”

It ended up being five.  By 10:00 p.m. I was ready to ascend those steps in the bus.  But in the meantime, on my five hour walk, I had the pleasure to view the old brittle rock of “the Shield,” as they say.  To be with the white pine and to hear the white-throated sparrow, a bird of the north.  I became oblivious to the traffic sounds along this stretch of the Trans Canada Highway.  It’s the sounds and sights of God that are  there to cherish.

May the Source be with you!

20 km


Sunday, July 16th, 2017
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Toronto, Ontario
Nice Bananas
Nine bananas went into the fire.  The reason for that figure could have some connection with ‘Cloud Nine’ which usually refers to cumulonimbus, those fluffy, white, heavenly clouds that can rise to ten kilometres up in the air and denote happiness.
It was actually nine happy people who stepped forward this morning for initiation into the bhakti culture.  The largest contingent of the group was from our Brampton community—three couples in fact.  Along with the commitment each member makes, they also agree to vows of dharmawhich are no meat eating, no gambling, no intoxication and pre-family planning.  The positive injunction is to practise chanting every day.

In fact, I emphasized in my talk at the havan (fire ceremony) that initiates are expected to share three things with the public—wisdom, sacred sound and sacred food.  The Vedas of India have so much to offer for our wellness, what to speak of mantrasfor purging a polluted ether, and the radical change to healthy devotional food.

Three single women also came forward—Anne Lisa of Toronto, now Amala Purana, Mylene of Montreal, now Madri, and also from Quebec was Priya Radha, who sat at the fire on behalf of her guru, Gopal Krsna Goswami.

The elderly couple from Brampton, Satish and Prem Lata, are now Shyam Das and Prithvi. Manish is Murali Manohar Das.  His wife, Deepa is now Dhrti.  Finally Umesh is now Ugresh.  His life partner, Usha is now Urvi.  These three last female names are celebrated ways of addressing the goddess Earth.  In total, nine people gave nine bananas to the fire which represents God’s tongue.

May the Source be with you!

7 km 


Saturday, July 15th, 2017
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Toronto, Ontario
Destroy What’s Bad
Due to the extensive flooding that occurred on the Toronto Islands, the usual location of the annual Festival of Chariots / India, a new venue was secured.  Next to Sugar Beach at the city’s waterfront in a new condo district.  Not yet occupied as a residential area, the space was available to our organizers.  Out east here, there have been record-breaking watery days.  The earth and the weather are going through incredible changes.
The procession went well but for a few glitches with sound.  This walk, combined with stage, display units, boutique and more, make up the festival—a party of a unique kind, free from booze.

Regarding make-up, our young men from the youth bus tour had their first crack at eye accentuation.  I told them that the stage lights wash out your face.  “Certain areas of the face need to be defined.”

At age ten to sixteen, you are going to get some abrasive reactions in the beginning.  But they surrendered, and in terms of performance and what was an actual dress rehearsal, they scored well.  Raj, who played Krishna, is a natural.  Rakta, he is a good build but needs to develop those emotional elements for the role of Arjuna.

With time, all will come together.  In fact, the script for “The Gita” includes the famous, profound line, “Time I am, destroyer of what is bad (the Kauravas).”

Through devotional service, all that’s inauspicious will be dissolved in the message of “The Gita.”

May the Source be with you!

6 km


Friday, July 14th, 2017
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Toronto, Ontario
All Nice
Walking for me usually means encountering niceties.  Today’s jaunt—if I could call it that—was along posh Bloor and then a portion of Yonge, a run-of-the-mill section, to reach ‘Theatrics Plus,’ a shop for dress up and theatre goods.  There, I picked out some accessories for our upcoming drama.  The owner was so nice, she just said, “Here, they are yours.  No charge.  Oh, and here’s a bag of packed incense if you’d like.”
I went away from the shop being quite the ‘happy chappy’.

I took a route through fancy Yorkville where they have this transplanted, reformulated Muskoka rock, a touch of the north.  From the top if this attraction descended a young man, Christian, who identified himself as a Vedic person.  “Where can I find you guys?” he asked, while in the middle of eating a delicious wrap.  He was thrilled to know we have an ashram / temple nearby. 

“Come to our Govinda’s.  Also, a twelve hour kirtan is going on right now.”

I thought it was great that someone went out of their way to connect and inquire. And there was a second person who came after me with a similar enthusiasm.  Alexandra crossed over the street, with her exquisite pet dog, to my side of the walkway.  She told me she had recently met the hugging guru (Amma) and that her friend mentioned something about an exciting event happening at the Krishna temple.

“Yes, we have some popular kirtaniyas, musicians, who chant, drum and get everyone to transform through this ancient method.”

“I’m going to make it and try out your food.”

I tried to make Alexandra as welcome as possible.  This is what I learned from my guru, Srila Prabhupada.

May the Source be with you!

7 km


Thursday, July 13th, 2017
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Toronto, Ontario
Sweet Guy
It was my first night on the bus.  The journey was only a four and a half hour drive during the night.  Traffic was light.  No hindrance.  We arrived in Toronto; I was rather exhausted.  The thirty young guys and their supervisors had no problem sleeping.  The bus was a perfect vibrator.  It doesn’t always work for me.  The boys rowed their kayaks for hours and deserved a good rest.
I came in to the ashram at that quiet hour.  My good, good friend—sweet guy—Dharma Prana was at the door to greet me.  He’s ‘Mister Steady’.  Although he suffered a stroke in the early ’80s, he’s still as effervescent as ever.  Maybe euphoric.  ‘Mister Positive’ would be another appropriate name for this extraordinary soul.  Dharma’s ability to speak is quite limited and has been for years.  Somehow or other he has developed a great way of communicating with his warm reception and sustainable interactive power.  He is definitely one of the reasons people like to visit the Toronto Krishna temple.

He walks with a limp, but that doesn’t stop him from doing his two hour walk every day in the downtown area.  He has limitations in speed and speech, but I believe he has embraced the essence of being devotional.

Dharma is in his late sixties.  I should know his exact age but we monks don’t always ask those questions of each other because we usually highlight the eternal aspect of ourselves.

Dharma is someone everyone loves.  He’s a sweet guy.

May the Source be with you!

5km


Wednesday, July 12th, 2017
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Russell, Ontario
This Trail
This trail is quite the well-maintained path, running between the towns of Russell and Embrun. It’s canopied with deciduous trees and has a creek at its side. Flat is the land. It makes it smooth for sauntering. Poison ivy lines the edges which keeps humans out, but on the trail. Another downside is the healthy presence of mosquitoes, but truly if you keep moving you’ll be okay.
I used the trail as my office. With my cell phone, I get all business taken care of. No traffic could disturb me. It was a trek in solitude for a two hour chunk of the afternoon. https://instagram.com/p/BWclSJql1hB/

I usually get thrilled when I see a town such as Russell get progressive by providing alternatives for walkers and cyclists.

Lorrel Elian of Saskatoon conducted a one hour live interview this evening. It’s a regular broadcast / podcast, explaining the topic of transformation.  https://www.facebook.com/lorrelelian/videos/1713223852024467/  She, like myself, was raised on a farm. Rodeo was the culture she was groomed in. She told me she married a cowboy. I’ve met Larry before. He’s a very passive person.

I’m mentioning these points since, as cattle farmers, we’ve transformed, Larry, Lorrel and I. Going from hard to gentle is definitely a change. In regard to hardness, there is a place for it. It’s always a decent practice to be hard or firm on yourself but light on others. People will get inspired by another’s self-discipline. Example is better than precept.

May the Source be with you!

10 km


Tuesday, July 11th, 2017
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Russell, Ontario
Here They Come!
My evening walk with Krishna Dulal and this morning’s trek were a mere warm-up for any challenge that may come.  At 3:30 a.m., the Krishna Culture Festival tour bus pulled up at K. Dulal’s driveway, unloading a batch of thirty North American boys in their teens for some summer frenzy.
It is more than a city getaway.  It’s a spiritual retreat of fun and regimen.  I guess I’m the General in the matter of putting a play together, to be staged this weekend in Toronto.  “The Gita” is what’s in store for a stage-sage like myself, and the audience.

We began our fun, rehearsing the divine message of Krishna’s words to His warrior-friend, Arjuna, but relevant to all.  I see the boys are taking in the message of the soul, karma, yoga and liberation from a new angle, because they are playing it out themselves.  For them, a dialogue is becoming a real live experience.

Avocados shipped from the south, but also sweet peas in a pod, grown by K. Dulal’s dad, are a treat at break time.  We are eating, sleeping, role-playing, splashing—he has a pool—goofing and grooming all in the course of one glorious day.

As I write, some of the boys are engaged in kirtan.  The sound of that mrdunga drum is super-sweet.  It makes you wanna dance.  That’s how the day ends, with a beat and a chime.  Certainly this should be the lifestyle for every time.

May the Source be with you!

5 km


Monday, July 10th, 2017
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Toronto, Ontario
With the Interfaithers
I just love it when Brian Carwana brings his group of interfaith people to visit the temple, every year.  Of the fifty he included, one person was from Missouri, one from Nebraska, another from Boston and the rest were mostly from Ontario.  Did I hear anyone came from la belle province, Quebec?  Yes, indeed, it was represented as well.
I was fortunate to have a musical expert with me, Hari Bhakti, a second generation Hare Krishna.  I asked him to do a demo on the mrdunga drum and the harmonium, both of which are used amply in Krishna Conscious music.

Hari also accompanied me when I taught our visitors what Brian usually wants featured, the chants and the dance.  That, they liked.  It’s rather unusual for the group.  In the numerous visits they make to faith groups around the city, getting everyone to move mouth and limbs is special.  I would say they were quite impressed with the deities of Krishna as well.

Then, it was meal time.  I went around the tables.  One man introduced himself as a minister.  “I’m Paul,” he said.

“Do I address you as Father?” I asked.

“No!”

“As brother?”

“No!”

“Bro?”

“Yes!”

I also sat with three sisters; most likely in their early sixties.  They came from Kitchener—farm country.  It was hard for them to fathom everyone becoming vegetarian. “Then what becomes of the cattle?  Do you just let them go?”

I believe I convinced them it could be done.  It would be a gradual phasing out.  The day will come when we’ll all be looking at the meat industry as a dying one.

May the Source be with you!

7 km


Sunday, July 9th, 2017
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Montreal, Quebec
Peaceful Situation
A very pleasant 23° Celsius / 76° Fahrenheit blessed the city of Montreal, and Day 2 of the Festival went on with packed attendance, once again.  Summer in Canada is all about outdoor events.  From late May to the end of September, expect a lot more events than just little picnics.
On top of the staging of a world-class jazz festival, last night as I walked from Centre Ville in Montreal, to our ashram on Pie IX Boulevard, I witnessed a migration of multitudes of people moving toward the St. Lawrence River for an international fireworks competition.  The volume of people moving made me think of some kind of exodus, like the Jews from Egypt during Biblical times, or the partisan era in India when thousands of Hindus and Muslims had to leave their homes.

Well, by 10:00 p.m. the marvelous ‘explosion-of-light show’ went off with a bang, a louder sound than snap, crackle, and pop, and these folks—the spectators—were a happy lot.

And so, with another festival—ours—that lit up Jeanne Mance Park, we all served to bring together thousands of eager seekers.  As I mentioned to a couple from Sherbrooke, Fabian and Genevieve, who brought their kirtan to the stage, “We may have different Vedic beliefs, and our mantras may vary, but most importantly, we join together and sing songs and break into dance, and create a peaceful situation.”

I’ll be travelling with a group of thirty young men, in their early teens, throughout Canada to share a higher consciousness through song and dance.  Of course, I’ll walk a bit every day.

May the Source be with you!

7 km


Saturday, July 8th, 2017
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Montreal, Quebec
Wrench in the Works
It was the first time something like this has happened in the thirty-nine year history of Montreal’s Ratha Yatra (Chariot Fest).  The attendance was remarkable, however, one fellow came to try and crash the party.

His name will be withheld, but he’s referred to as a professional agitator; someone who likes to break up the fun.  A dozen police kept a watchful eye on him and apparently know him well for his jail records.  An activist who is very active at events, this time our joyous fest at Jeanne-Mance Park was his target.

The fellow came with his megaphone and helped himself to the front of the parade at St. Laurent Street, denouncing like anything.

What was he agitated about?  A number of things that would be considered unjustified, nevertheless he attempted to create a scene at the park as well, but wasn’t taken too seriously by public.  There, free food and entertainment was given.

A good number of people asked, “Don’t we have our rights?”  Apparently under certain “freedoms” someone like him has some liberty to do as he likes.  I could see the police were super careful in handling the situation.  It’s too bad, but frankly the program today was a huge success and ended off on a beautiful note with the sound of kirtan.

We live in an age of darkness, Kali, and when you make some headway (in this case spiritual headway), some “monkey wrench will be thrown in the works,” as the expression goes.  I saw a jolly and happy event in the long run.

May the Source be with you!

10 km


Friday July 7, 2017
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Montreal. Quebec
Responding

Human life is about service to others.

I had arrived at Montreal airport from an overnight flight, a red-eye, from Vancouver. While waiting for my pickup, a wheel-chaired, elderly woman came meekly before me.

“Can I borrow your phone?” she asked.

I dialed the number after she dictated and then handed my cell to her.

She spoke into it, asking, “Where are you? I’m at Zone C… Just a minute, this monk here said he would wheel me to where you are. Okay?”

Off we went, with me pushing the wheelchair and her baggage. It was a service. She was grateful.

Once I arrived in the downtown, I took that much-needed trek on Rue Sainte-Catherine. A group of men, drinking, noticed me. One scurried up behind me, and said in French, “ Donnez-moi vos benedictions?”

He asked for blessings. I was impressed being that he was young. I then placed my hands on his head and said, “Om ajnana timirandhasya…” A common mantra meant to invoke the mercy of past priests.

I saw this gesture as a service.

Not but five minutes later into the walk and a person in the distance shouted, “Hare Krishna! Come into my apartment and see my artwork.”

“Fine, thanks!” I was greeted by a young dog. He also wanted blessings. I also delivered a mantra to him. “Hare Krishna!” I think he appreciated it. This was also a service.

May the Source be with you!

6 km

Thursday July 6, 2017
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Burnaby, British Columbia
Near the Fraser

Near the Fraser River, you have this rich, delta soil. Plants love it. They thrive in it. I admit I’m excited just to see the young plants of different sorts so happily situated as I walked by this fertile, flat land where relatively small farms have found themselves nestled in the very centre of Burnaby.

A number of the landowners are Chinese. At 5:45 a.m., they were readying themselves for the 27.5C (85F) sun. There also appears to be some Punjabi property owners who are good in the green thumb area.  The way some of the homes are designed, with a separate entrance for renters, shoes outside by the threshold of the door, and the fragrance of strong Indian spices lingering in the air, is always a giveaway.

Caucasian dog owners were also taking their pets for a walk. Did the Brits start that?

If you put the human element aside, then the birds are always there. A crow flew above me with some white object firmly in his beak’s grip. I imagine it’s a construction piece for building. Maybe a chunk of white, stiff bread that he found? A robin did the same. In his beak were at last three fine twigs, no doubt meant for nesting material. 

I admire the birds. They’re not lazy. I’m not inferring that people are. Not in this little agricultural enclave.  It’s full of life. I love it, and I come here all the time to chant on my beads.

May the Source be with you!

6 km


Wednesday July 5, 2017
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Vancouver, British Columbia
Not The Good Fortune

I did not have the good fortune to walk today. I sat at Toronto’s terminal and then again, while flying. It was not the glorious flight like you might have seen of Vishnu standing on the back of the great eagle bird-carrier, Garuda, but Air Canada that took me into the friendly skies.

Now, the passenger next to me was reading a book: its title, I don’t recall. She shared with me the pages open for her reading. With a quick glance, I picked up a few words and sentences. The word Buddha popped up, as well as Meister Eckhart.

My newly-made friend was gleaning from the chapter she was reading that egoism is not an alternative to life. “Self-centredness is unhealthy for the world” was the gist of what was behind the message.

She found it just fascinating that I was in orange robes and sitting next to her. She thought I might be close to the author in some respects. I helped to clarify.

“Here’s my card. I’m a Hare Krishna monk. We believe in a Creator, a Higher Power, and we identify with the atma, the soul. I’m not a Buddhist who tends to deny a Supreme Person or the atma.”

“Well, I didn’t’ know that.”

“I’m totally content to  believe I’m a permanent spirit with no beginning and no end. Oh, and ego must go.”

She thanked me for sharing.

May the Source be with you.

0 km

 


Tuesday, July 4th, 2017
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North York, Ontario
There and Back
“How long have you been a swami?” was the question coming from someone behind me.  I was in the subway commuter train when an unfamiliar male voice lodged the question.  I turned around and there was this tall, young fellow with dark hair and a beard, having the physical features of a model-yogi.
“Since ’84,” I answered.  “I’m a bhakti-yogateacher.  I’m also a pilgrim and walked Canada four times.  I’m working on the U.S. now and left the road in Utah to be on a youth bus tour.  And you?  Do you teach yoga?”

“I was trained by the Self-Realization Fellowship, but I have a teacher.  I’m not teaching.  I’ve got two little ones to look after.  I’m Neil.”

Handshakes.

“And I’m Bhaktimarga Swami, the Walking Monk.”

I had actually been to visit Rupanuga up in the Finch area at the ‘Kiss and Ride’.  At his home, we chatted endlessly about how to introduce more mentoring and counselling into our communities in Canada.  There is a need—a great, great need.  More training, more education need to be implemented.  We were both excited about the prospects of doing so.  He heads up a team for proposing and planning enhanced care for devotees, in this field.

In any event, I finally made it to the ashram via subway and walking, in part.  I got home.  I received a call from my youngest sister, Pauline.

“Why don’t you come over?  Connie’s here.”

Connie is junior to me but the oldest sister.

“How do I get there?”

“You can come on the subway.  Connie will pick you up at the end of the subway line—at Finch—at the ‘Kiss and Ride’.

Alright.  I just came from there.

This time I might just kiss.

May the Source be with you!
10 km

Monday, July 3rd, 2017
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Toronto, Ontario
Walking Through the New and Old
Now, this nice brahman (priest) by the name of Ramanada invites a group of us monks, residents of the ashram, to his home in Markham, one day every year for pizza.  The delight is on for the eight of us.  We are enthusiasts for the change of pace.  Many slices went down the tubular sections of our bodies, in addition to some good home-made soup.
Yes, it was a knock-out, and a little snooze on the couch—well-deserved for the hard work of consumption.

Ramananda and I talked about country living where there’s more green and peace.  We were actually more than dreaming.  It is not just a concept but a step away from reality.  All that’s required is to conscript another small number of like-minded souls to buy into or commit to a plan.

Incidentally, Karuna, a younger monk in the ashram, and I walked, out of curiosity, to Sherborne Commons, off of Lake Ontario.  It will be this year’s site of one of North America’s largest Chariot Festivals.  The usual spot, the Toronto Islands, are flooded due to excessive rain.

Here’s what we discovered as we ambled through neighbourhoods, and then back to the ashram.  The city is serious about creating green spaces for families in the downtown area.  Of course, everyone’s out and about because it’s summertime.  The smells are great.  The colours are green and rich.  Mind you, the concrete does exist, but it is broken by patches of play and relaxation areas.

The city is wisening up.  Also, I led Karuna to 187 Gerrard Street—now a house—formerly a temple of forty  residents, where I joined in ’73.  Going down a good Memory Lane is worth the walk.

May the Source be with you!

8 km


Sunday, July 2nd, 2017
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Russell, Ontario
New School
In this modest-sized town, a bedroom community of Canada’s capital, a small Krishna devotee nook is developing which includes a Montessori school with a Vedic edge to it.  As a monk, I have an obligation to give moral support to such an endeavour.
Heading up this noble task of educating a younger generation is Vrajabhumi, with the project funded and facilitated by Krishna Dulal, her husband.  The school has been running now for one year and is called the the Bhakta Prahlad Primary school.  Plans are to expand.

Our gathering this morning with the nine students was an actual graduation for the young ones.  Naturally all of us adults, parents, friends and ascetics were charmed by their presentation, including the launching of their CD called “Chant Together.”  The sound is crisp and clean—heart pulling.  The sound of innocence.  The sound of angels is how it also registers with me.

It’s just too bad that kids have to grow up.  It’s impossible to change the pattern.  You just can’t be a Peter Pan forever.  After all, Sri Krishna sees to the cyclic pattern of the six changes, beginning with birth to the death bell, and then repeating this circle game once again—the game of nature called samsara, designed to work toward refinement.

I wish the school all success, especially for its upcoming second year after the summer break.

At our gathering, one member, Raymond, presented a concept for an eco-village project.  It sounded good.

May the Source be with you!

8 km


Saturday, July 1st, 2017
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Ottawa, Ontario
Chanting, Walking at Canada Day
Fireworks exploded in the air to celebrate 150 years since the birth of Canada, as we know it, under that name.  The fireworks display and pyrotechnics show in the nation’s capital didn’t faze or excite me as much as the footwork and chanting did.  I was very much a part of that.
We calculated our party of chanters moved, in more or less a procession style, for nine kilometres. It sounded not too bad for the distance to and from the ISKCON Centre on Somerset Street. https://instagram.com/p/BWCOfo6FMRV/

Usually our group of bhakti-yogis have a station with a stage to operate from.  This year, however, we were discouraged from setting up near the war memorial due to the extra-dense crowds, as well as terrorist threats.  Security was very much stepped up this year.

What I saw, though, were happy crowds.  People especially lit-up upon seeing and hearing the chanting party, at least those whom we accessed.  The demographic make-up of Ottawa is very diverse, like many larger Canadian cities.

Our Indigenous People had a chat with the Prime Minister about the past–what is referred to as a genocide history.  Prince Charles and Camilla, the Duchess of Cornwall, were out there meeting the public.  I would have loved it if the couple could have danced and sung with us.

In one way, Prince Charles is a champion by speaking out against food production techniques of today.  He is known to say, “For every pound of beef produced in the industrial system, it takes two thousand gallons of water.”  He has also called for people to lower their beef and meat intake.  Pretty progressive for a member of the royal family.

May the Source be with you!

9 km


Friday June 30, 2017
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Toronto/Ottawa
Walking In Beauty

The following poem was shared by a Navajo woman whom I met this week. I, in turn, wanted to share it with our readers.

In Beauty I Walk

With beauty before me I walk

With beauty behind me I walk

With beauty above me I walk

With beauty around me I walk

It has become beauty again (4x)

Today I will walk out, today everything unnecessary will leave me.

I will be as I was before, I will have a cool breeze over my body.

I will have a light body, I will be happy forever, nothing will hinder me.

I will walk with beauty before me. I will walk with beauty behind me.

I will walk with beauty below me. I will walk with beauty above me.

I will walk with beauty around me. My words will be beautiful.

In beauty all day long may I walk.

Through the returning seasons may I walk.

On the trail marked with pollen may I walk.

With dew about my feet, may I walk.

With beauty before me may I walk.

With beauty behind me may I walk.

With beauty below me may I walk.

With beauty above me may I walk.

With beauty all around me may I walk.

In old age wandering on a trail of beauty, lively, may I walk.

In old age wandering on a trial of beauty, living again, may I walk.

My words will be beautiful.

And so I was reflecting on this poem, sometimes referred to as “The NavajoWay”, as I walked along Bloor Street, on a vibrant evening in Toronto. Simple words, but powerful and beautiful.

May the Source be with you!

7km

Thursday, June 29th, 2017
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Salt Lake City / Toronto
I Will Continue
The sad news is that I’m leaving the road for a month.  One of the main reasons for this is my annual summer obligation to join a young teen-boys’ bus tour.  It will be a time for outdoor events, drama,  workshops and just being there for them.
Still, every day that I’m with these young men—and that time will come soon—I’ll continue on with walking a stretch each day, wherever I am, and give a report of what my day is like.  I’ll miss the road and I’ll miss the state of Utah, but I’ll be back.  Stay tuned with me, please.

So, to relay to you my final exchanges last night with folks on Hwy 191 in Utah for the tail-end of the day, here it is:

A woman pulls over and offers a ride,

“Can I take you down the road?”

“Actually I’m in the middle of a trek to San Francisco from New York.”

“That’s amazing.  You know I just came from Cambodia and there’s monks everywhere,” she said.

“True, but I’m a monk from the Hare Krishna tradition.”

“So, it’s alright to ask a monk about a ride?”

“No harm in asking.”

“God bless you!” she offered.

“And you!”

Right behind her car another pulled up.  It was three men.

“A ride?”

You readers know the answer.

I delivered my line, mantra cards, and kept walking until Vyenkat and Hitesh drove up from Salt Lake.  They love to walk and to talk, and so we did, until the sun was gone.

May the Source be with you!

0 miles


Wednesday, June 28th, 2017
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Summit Hwy 181, Utah
Getting to the Top
It was a bit of a climb by roadway.  Some sweat and strain took me to  the top of the 9,110 foot elevation.  Truckers know the power needed to reach that part of the passageway.  It’s a crawl for them.
I wish I had the agility of the bouncing deer I see here; the speed of the antelope, the strength of the beef cattle and the friskiness of the chipmunks around.

Chipmunks!  Despite the use of leg muscles not used as often for going up and now coming down, I prefer to remain the chipper monk.

I met Curtis, a Mormon.  He was the only person who stopped to talk.  He offered water and also The Book of Mormon to tuck under my arm.  I suggested he meet my two monk assistants two miles down, or so.  I also suggested he could receive from them one of our Krishna conscious books.

“The Mormons and the Krishnas have got a good relationship.  We have two vibrant centres in both Salt Lake City and Spanish Fork.”

He mentioned he would try to connect.

It was Jennifer of Radio Channel X94, a pop music station, who interviewed me today.  I was introduced as a Hare Krishna monk.  I was happy to hear she has a copy of the Bhagavad-gita at home.  She’s also likely to have the book of the Latter Day Saints which Curtis has, and now I do, as well.

I believe it’s good to share.  “Why the big walls between the groups?  Really!”

May the Source be with you!

18 miles


Tuesday, June 27th, 2017
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Duchesne, Utah
Near Strawberry River
I just have to re-cap what happened last night.  I was trying to catch up on some miles.  To do so, Marshall dropped me off at the “River Road,” as some locals call it.  This is where I’d left off earlier on.
It was 9:45 p.m.  The sun was tucking itself away.  Vision was dull.  I saw a pedestrian coming toward me on this quiet road.  You don’t see someone walking at such times.  I admit I was a little fearful because of the rarity of the situation.

I shouted, “Hello!”

Suddenly the pedestrian became startled and turned to reveal its profile.  It had four legs.  It was a cow who had gotten away and was trying to re-connect with its herd.

This morning I observed more cattle, but they were, as usual, protected behind a fence and out to pasture.  I was then driven back to Vernal for a radio chat with Amy Richards from KLCY 105.5 Eagle Country Radio, on their morning show.  Johnny Cash was singing “Walk the Line” in between the two segments of our interview which, of course, was a promotion for introspective walking—pilgrimage.

The interview attracted some interest.  Roberta, an Apache woman, heard the talk while working at a drive-thru eating place.  She came out and called for me, even charged after me to offer me her fresh-made bread.  Highway Patrol officer, Kellie Oaks, pulled over.  We talked about the permanent nature of the soul, of God, time, energy.  They never change.

“The only thing that can change is our attitude and, hence, our karma or action should adjust from negative to positive.”  The officer seemed to relish the message.

May the Source be with you!

18 mi


Monday, June 26th, 2017
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Bridgeland, Utah
Letting People Know
Follow-up is so important for establishing and keeping relationships.  When I met Stephen the other day in Vernal, I felt it was the right thing to do to call him once I arrived back in town.  His lifestyle sounds good.  He’s a reader.  He has no computer and for communication he has a landline telephone.
We agreed to meet at the Pizza Hut, with the boys and I going for a salad.  Steve, 75, brought his friend, Rod, with him, an accountant, and a special book he ordered, “The Nature of Devotion,” by author Srila Prabhupada, our guru.

Our conversation was light but encouraging.  At mealtime, one should never bring up topics that are too disturbing or too deep.  After our conversation, Steve mentioned he wanted to keep in touch.  He will do that by way of letter, through the mail (snail mail).

In Roosevelt, Utah, I met Brenda Fisher of  the Uintah Basin Standard, for an interview.  I mentioned to her how valuable reporting is to those of the public who have come to appreciate a broader world than their own. http://www.ubmedia.biz/community/article_9b5ad91c-578d-11e7-b737-b35374b14015.html

“Letting people know about our walk is sending a message about physical and spiritual wellness,” I said to Brenda.

Lisa invited us to her mountain home.  Rock formations in Utah are stunning and her house is in the midst of those vistas.  She cooked up a stir fry along with quinoa.  Thereafter, a talk and kirtan in Ashley Valley Park drew the new age community.  It was really sweet.

Jackie Gleason used to say, “How sweet it is!”

May the source be with you!

20 miles


Sunday June 25, 2017
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Salt Lake City, Utah
Packed Day

Madhava had led a beautiful chanting session, followed by my talk about the walk. It was a really nice, captive audience. I mentioned I was following the trail of our guru, Srila Prabhupada, from Boston to Butler, to New York, and then heading to the West Coast. “Following in the footsteps” is a phrase used in our Krishna community, so although our guru did not literally make the trek, by foot, he did blaze the trail. My talk was last (Saturday) night.

I was also honoured to deliver a class, this morning, from the book, Bhagavatam, on the importance of hearing that which is relevant. It is relevant when we speak of atma, the soul.

One last class was held this afternoon at Spanish Fork, where a beautiful temple is established resembling the architecture of something from north India, at Kusum Sarovara. My dear godbrother and sister, Caru and Vaibhavi, have worked very hard to develop the building, community and the llama farm. To their credit, they have also begun the now popular Colour Festival of India. The known Colour Run, where runners get creamed with vibrant powder in multiple shades, has origins with this innovative couple.

The last segment of the day was spent catching up on walking. Back to Hwy 40 West went myself and two enthusiasts from the community. Vyenkat and Hitesh took me to the spot where I left off on Saturday. Beginning at mileage mark 108, we conquered from there 6 miles on foot. Jaya! (Jaya means victory).

May the Source be with you!

6 miles

P.S. A vehicle hit a badger. What a shame! Vehicles—what a curse!


Saturday June 24, 2017
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Roosevelt, Utah
Motorists Who Stopped and What They Said

Worker: “I saw you walkin’. I work in the heat all day. I know how it feels. I’ll give you a ride.”

An elderly man and his wife: “Come in! You must be thirsty and hungry. I’ll take you somewhere where I can get you food and drink.”

A woman: “What are you doing? Can I share some water?”

Man whose RV broke down: “If you’re a monk, you got the wrong shoes on (should be sandals). Don’t mind me.” He chuckles. “I’m just giving you a hard time.”

A State Trooper: “You’re okay? Oh well, you’re not in my county. Happy walking!”

A man and woman pulling a trailer: “I was talking with my wife, here, deciding if we should pick up a hitchhiker or not (referring to me), but you’re different.”

An Hispanic local: “I’ll take you as far as Roosevelt, Utah. That’s where I live.”

Roosevelt Policeman: “Where are you from? From New York to San Fransisco? Good luck!”

A farmer irrigating his field: I had to come over. I’m an architect, an artist, and I also harvest alfalfa on the side. I’ve never met a monk before. Happy trails!”

Meanwhile, two emails came to me, from a librarian I met yesterday, hoping my travels are safe, and well-wishes from Glen of Boulder, Colorado, who remembered me from the other day.

Hayagriva, Marshall and I then left for Salt Lake City for a program with the renowned ‘kirtan’ man, Madhava. I want to thank Shyam Vihari.

May the Source be with you!

20 miles

Please join Maharaja on Sunday June 25th at 1:00 p.m. Eastern Time on Facebook live!


Friday June 23, 2017
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West of Vernal, Utah
Flowers and Trucks

I broke my walk into three parts today—night-time, morning and a blazing afternoon for an hour. I met Steven, seventy-five, who was shocked to see a monk in town. He has all the books of the popular Indian gurus. His collection also includes Aurobindo and Srila Prabhupada. He said, “Prabhupada emphasizes devotion.”

“That’s right!”

On Monday, our team will visit Steven, who lives in a rather isolated place. I’m looking forward to it.

I also met another Steven, the library operator in one of the local towns. Like many folks who stop to talk, he offered a ride, but suspected I was on a mission.

“I’ll come to see you in the library,” I said, “when we get to your town.”

In reality, everyone is in a car or a truck. Vernal has Hwy 40 running through it. There’s a passion in this place. What tempers the passion is the petunias potted all along the street. The town seems to take them very seriously. I was leap-frogging with the fellow who goes around in a truck watering those flowers with a hose. It was almost like a game. I had to dodge the squirt-hose.

Flowers usually make you smile, laugh or offer some comfort. Usually the more flowers planted in a city, the less crime there is.. Sounds too simplistic? Apparently it’s true.

I want to thank Jaya Gopal for sponsoring our room in the Days Inn. That was very devotional of you.

May the Source be with you!

21 miles

Editor’s Note: The Walking Monk will be live on Facebook at 1:00 p.m. Eastern Time, aka 10:00 a.m. Pacific Time on Sunday June 26, 2017. Here’s the link. We hope you can join the event.


Thursday June 22, 2017
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Vernal, Utah
Night/Day

Cheryl was a great host at the Yoga Center in Steamboat. She even cooked a fine kitchari for us. Remember—rice, dahl, vegetables and Indian spices? The program included “Tales From Trails”, kirtan, and dancing. Attendees purchased books and beads. We were invited back for the future.

Now, the challenge was on. We arrived via vehicle at 11:15 p.m. at the spot where I left off earlier in the day. My distance for trekking was to be a real push through the night. It was dark. Strong flashes of thunder were ahead. Rain came, but little. The wind pushed the clouds very rapidly. The temperature was around 70 degrees Fahrenheit. No bugs were there to pester. Fatigue was evident. Near the end of the thirteen mile night-walk, I was staggering a bit, like a drunkard.

At the Motel 6, we slept—just a squeeze of four hours for me. Then a mere seven miles were left to complete. This time the sun was upon me, biting like fire on my neck.

But all was cool. I met two individual Samaritans who came to offer water. The second woman, an Hispanic lady, gave no explanation. “Here ya go,” was all she said as she presented a tumbler of ice-water. After she left, just a few yards into her journey, she shouted back, “You’re beautiful!”

“You are!” I replied.

I met a local fellow who had this new walking stick. I asked, “How far do you walk everyday?”

“About ten miles.”

“You’re a hero!”

Liberty Best came from the Vernal Express with questions. It was outside a bike store. The employees come out with cameras and handshakes.

“You’re the guy I’ve seen on the highway.”

Liberty took shots. She liked the fact that I’m seeing sacredness on the road.

May the Source be with you!

20 miles

Wednesday June 21, 2017
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Dinosaur, Colorado
Kindness, Bugs and the Summer

The other day, Elizabeth was watering the lawn at her business, The Westward Motel. Being somewhat dehydrated, I ambled along in front of the place and asked her if the water was drinkable. And so I was invited to drink.

“This is the best water,” she reassured.

I asked her about her rates for accommodations. “Do you have monk rates?”

“Sure, I’ll help you. You can stay for free. How many nights?”

“Three for three.”

“Okay.”

Elizabeth and partner, Shawn, demonstrated optimum hospitality. We gifted them with a small package of books by the Bhaktivedanta Book Trust. They were happy. It was our check-out time and time to move on.

And speaking of happiness, our group of three, were exceedingly content with the swim, yesterday evening, in a spring that fed into the Yampa river. My limbs got especially relaxed from the dip last night. Second to walking is swimming. My experience is that they go hand-in-hand.

Now my stretch for trekking today took me on Hwy 40 to the hamlet of Dinosaur. It was here that many discoveries were made of fossils, bones and remains of the huge animals of pre-historic times. Rather neat, if I might say so.

The reality of today was not sighting T-Rex, but having thousands of bugging, buggy wiggies constantly around my torso and head. I don’t know if they are out here to celebrate the summer solstice but they are definitely having a party with me. I take it as an austerity.

After our 20 mile trek today, our group drives back to Steamboat Springs to the Yoga Center of Steamboat to celebrate the summer’s arrival.  https://www.facebook.com/YogaCenterOfSteamboat/posts/1304640409590833

May the Source be with you!

20 miles


Tuesday June 20, 2017
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Massadona, Colorado
Dry Day

All three of us like the early morning treks. Millions of stars adorn the sky up above. I asked the boys, Hayagriva and Marshall, if they were familiar with the Classical Music “The Planets” by Gustav Holst. They had never heard it. So I played “Venus, The Bringer of Peace” from the album on my phone.

How soothing and appropriate it was to have that playing while we looked up at the heavenly bodies and chanted our japa (mantras) over top of the music. We had the road to ourselves. We were kings of the road. The area west of Elk Springs is so desolate. Even rush hour makes you wonder how it could be so calm at the usual hectic hours between 7 and 9:00 a.m.

Once the sun arises, it is not long before it becomes merciless. That then draws black flies and mosquitoes. They have a circus and they come in numbers as plentiful as the stars had been up above. The further west I go, as the boys settle in the van for their reading sessions, the more dry as a bone the land becomes.

Wildlife is rare to see now. They are attracted to green but here it’s sage plants. Even hawks and crows are hard to come by. This is a desert for sure. There’s even some resemblance, in spots, to the Grand Canyon.

Fortunately, with my phone, while I walk, I am able to call anywhere in North America and get office work done at the same time. You just have to watch your step. Rarely does traffic interfere. There is so little of it. There are no billboards which is great.

Our meals comprise of snacks in the form of trail mix, wraps at noon and a cooked kitchari, a rice and moong lentil with vegetables, in the evening. By 10:30 a.m. I did my quota of twenty miles.

All is good!

May the Source be with you!

20 miles


Monday June 19, 2017
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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

Sunday June 18, 2017
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Maybell, Colorado
On Father’s Day

At early morning, the lone antelope leapt away and vanished into an endless field of sage and hill. A fox had been digging at the prairie dog’s hole but unsuccessfully could not reach his prey. He retreated upon seeing Hayagriva, Marshall and I so close to the area of his work. Then the prairie dog popped his head out and gave a squeak sound, perhaps to tease the fox or to greet us in his own way.

Since it is Father’s Day, I called my brother, Jerry, in Canada, asking if he could forward at least one photo of our deceased dad. Technology, being what it is, doesn’t always deliver the goods. I tried to conjure the image of that well-rounded individual who was my Dad. In my memory banks, I thought of him and how he helped shape my life. But I had to settle for thought, over a picture of him.

So I decided at the crack of dawn to walk today in his honour. For the most part the trek was great, however, since leaving the Yampa River near Maybell, it has become a dry land—desolate looking. The sun gets intense. I’m told that the more you go west, the more desert becomes a reality.

One man in a jeep saw me, drove to the store and picked up some water for road delivery to the guy in orange. A state trooper also pulled over to check and see if I was alright. That’s the first authority to see me and stop, while on duty, in days.

These two guys were being generous. They were being like dads.

May the Source be with you!

20 miles

P.S. The picture finally came through.


Saturday June 17, 2017
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Craig, Colorado
The Inner Cool

The fellow had a big grin on his face when he approached me at the corner of Yampa Avenue and 5th Street.

 “Yah know everyone’s facebookin’ yah. Could I get a selfie with us?” Meaning his cute little daughter was to be included.

“Of course!” Snap!

It was quite phenomenal at how much exposure our little team achieved out there, with merely two news articles plus photos, and simply walking westward along Highway 40 between the two communities of Steamboat Springs and Craig.

In downtown Craig, Whittle the Wood Fest is being held and folks are in a relaxed mood. Just about every other person on the street had spotted the saffron robes and let me know about it. It caused the same sensation with motorists and many pulled over.

“Hey, it’s great to meet you! I read about you! I saw you!” And naturally they wanted to congratulate me.

Luke and his wife stopped. “Do you have some advice?”

“Yes, as humans we have an obligation to take care of both the physical and the spiritual sides of life. We must achieve a balance.”

To Scott and friend, I said, “Let’s slow down the pace of existence and address the needs of the soul.”

At one point it was hard to move forward. One motorist after the other wanted a little piece of the action with The Walking Monk. It was so welcoming. Finally at Stylz 5th Avenue hair salon, the owner came out and offered moisturizer for my poor dried feet. I appreciated the display in her shop promoting ‘sexy hair gel’ but I really liked the caption “Find Your Inner Cool” with the image of James Dean.

May the Source be with you!

22 miles

Editor’s Note: The Walking Monk will be at the Sundance Studio, 385 Anglers drive, Suite D, in Steamboat Springs, Sunday June 18, 2017 from 6 to 8 p.m. Join him for an evening of stories, chanting and inspiring movement. 970-819-9275

Friday June 16, 2017
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Hayden, Colorado
Others Have Done It

I’ve known that I am not the only one who has walked or is walking across the U.S., that others out there have pushed causes like myself. Toby Shaw from Denver, Colorado, sent me an article about a fellow who trekked and made it to Kansas City after four months on the road. He concluded his walk in 2015. Erick Brown is his name and he was spreading peace and love, accompanied by his goat named Deer; he was on his feet and his pet was on his hooves.

Another walker, Steve Wescott, started his walk in Seattle in 2012 with his first goat, Leroy Brown—until Leroy died—and then his second goat, Miles, with whom he made it to Times Square after several years. They were raising money for an orphanage in Kenya. Steve said sometimes they only walked four miles a day.

Meanwhile, progress is being made with my walk, albeit goat-less. I think it would be safe to say, we are approaching two-thirds of the way across the U.S. as we get nearer to the Utah border.

Each day, I note the mileage marker, and Marshall, who does most of the navigation and driving, jumps ahead at three miles, so after an hour, we meet. At other times, errands have to be run and in those circumstances, I’m on the road, seemingly alone, for hours. Actually, I’m never really by myself. There are enough motorists who greet me with a smile or wave a hand, and now that the weather is fine, people are out and about offering their thumbs up.

It always excites me when a journalist like Audrey Dwyer of “Steamboat Today” out of Steamboat Springs, famous for its hot springs and skiing, and Sasha Nelson from the “Craig Daily Press” from the city of Craig—home of the “Whittle the Wood Rendevouz” happening this weekend—come out to ask questions.

One, or maybe two, of my pet peeves along the road are trash, especially broken beer bottles, as well as roadkill. Today, it was dead snakes.

A question I asked the boys, as our day ended, was, “What are your realizations about the Creator today?”

Answers were: “Conquered by Love.” “Reciprocities.” “Is multi-dimensional?”

May the Source be with you!

22 miles


Thursday June 15, 2017
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Steamboat Springs, Colorado
Mountain City

Walden is not a big town, but Carol was able to muster up some interest amongst her friends to hear about “Tales From Trails” at her yoga studio, last night. Not everyone who attended was a yoga student, necessarily. Some keen interest on seeing and hearing a swami was there. We all together went about with some mantra meditation. Thanks, Carol.

This morning’s session of walking led myself and my two helpers, Hayagriva and Marshall, into the bustling mountain city of Steamboat Springs. I like the place. There’s more pedestrians and cyclists than the regular towns I’ve been through.

It had sidewalks for a change, and that’s always a treat coming off of angular walking on the side of a highway. But it wasn’t long before I was back out in the countryside, seeing the occasional fox droppings.

Motorists have been extremely receptive at viewing a new face, with robes. I did, however, come upon a road construction crew, who, for my own safety, refused to let me walk through, even if it meant a slight circumvention.

“No!” said the lady on the construction job who held up a stop sign for the benefit of both motorists and pedestrians. “I can’t let you through. Is it against your religion to take a ride? It’s only about a mile and a half stretch.”

“I’ll co-operate.” So Randy came to drive me, even though there were side offers by motorists when they saw the predicament. I told Randy I was walking to San Fran. “Remember Nancy Sinatra’s ‘Boots’? Well, these bodies were made for walking, and that’s just what they’ll do…”

Randy had a good laugh and offered me an apple.

May the Source be with you!

22 miles

Wednesday June 14, 2017
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East of Steamboat Springs, Colorado
No Divide

Matthew had told us that Jackson County is the largest county in the U.S. with no stoplights whatsoever. Well, we have left that county, on foot, for new territory, which landed us at the Great Continental Divide. Reaching an elevation of over 9,000 feet, where the watershed here has water flowing to both the Atlantic and the Pacific. A local said, “If you pee at that spot, some of you goes to  either ocean.”

From that location, Rabbit Ears Pass, I ventured west through altitude changes. My breath could be seen when up high and when low. I felt some warmth. That’s what I call climate change.

I did have time to reflect during the ascent and descent, and going around the bend. I thought of my colleague, who’s also been a monk for over forty years. Danovir Goswami is American born, has written several books on monastic life, but is now stricken with Parkinson’s disease.

I met him at the ISKCON Denver centre the last two Sundays when our team joined in with the Bhakti-yoga functions. Danovir Goswami has always taken a right-wing stance on issues, and that usually was too abrasive for my liking. It meant that our communication wasn’t strong, although, mutually, we respected one another.

Now, when I saw his condition, I was compelled to go for a long friend’s embrace at each of those two visits. It felt good and right. Let opposing opinions be swept to the side, as we are all truly devotionally one. There is no divide.

During such meditations, a local mason, Tim, pulled over. He was so curious. Also a young pregnant woman stopped after her parents saw me. Unable to veer over their massive camper at a 7% grade decline, they called their daughter, who was in another car, to get some water to the monk.

May the Source be with you!

20 miles


Tuesday June 13, 2017
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West of Walden, Colorado
I Felt Like Mohammad Ali

I felt like Mohammad Ali, today; like a fighter. I was taking on Vayu, the wind god. Oh, he was strong. He swung mostly from the north. He cut from above. When I was in high elevation, he was prominent. At one point, I felt like I was being knocked off my feet. I actually stepped back, once, from his force. It wasn’t until I came down to the base of a major canyon that I felt the stronger.

Humans paid little attention today, with not one motorist stopping to talk. Wildlife took notice, though. An eagle flew above. Coyotes yelped in the distance. A hawk came near, screeching, as a smaller bird pestered him. A second hawk joined the first, causing the smaller bird to retreat until he got brave enough to go for a second attack. Then a crow followed me, forever.

Not all action was in the sky. As mentioned, coyotes were about. The prairie dogs make the dry areas very ‘holey’. When the sun is strongly present, they give off their squeak. It’s hard to tell if they’re laughing or scared and giving warning. But I’m harmless.

With an 8,000 foot elevation, the cold is felt. The temperature didn’t get beyond 50 degrees Fahrenheit.

“Is it usual in June?” I asked Matthew Shuler, the reporter for the Jackson County Star.

“It’s expected with this elevation.”

Matthew had interviewed me in the Walden Courthouse, a rather handsome edifice for a small town. His questions ranged from, “What’s the funniest thing people ask?” to “How many pairs of shoes take you across the country?”

The answer to the first:  “You’ve got on the colour of a prisoner. Are you?”

To answer the second: “It will take three to four pair, based on my Canadian experience.”

May the Source be with you!

21 miles


Monday June 12, 2017
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Walden, Colorado
A Cabin and A Town

The Trading Post Resort is situated on the Cache la Poudre River with these charming cabins—rustic and sweet. Our group of three were given Cabin #3 for a three night stay. So after I finish walking the area, we drive back to our Home Sweet Home at Cabin #3 and rest our weary bodies after walking (that’s me) or driving and running errands (that’s Marshall and Hayagriva).

Today, I experienced a full-on attack by mosquitoes. Water from irrigation forms favourable breeding grounds for the insects to multiply, and thus, people like myself, or the cyclist from the U.K. whom I met, Roland, take a beating. It’s not only the bugs who harass, but Roland and I both were battling the wind and sun.

But it was nice to enter a town for a change; there is more interaction with humans.

At the gas station in Walden, where I made a major turn on the highway, Michael Fry asked about the clothes.

“I’m a monk!”

“That’s what my dad said. He said you are a Hare Krishna monk,” mentioned the teenager. “That’s cool! Can I get you some water?”

“Please.”

I met the librarian of the town. We donated a book, The Teachings of Krishna by Pierre Corbieu, prefaced by Bhaktimarga Swami, The Walking Monk.

May the Source be with you!

20 miles

Sunday June 11, 2017
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Jackson County, Colorado
In the Raw and the City

“That’s really impressive,” mentioned the young motorist, when I took the opportunity to tell him of the walk from New York after he offered a ride.

“Sorry, I can’t take the lift. There’s no cheating. I’ve got to walk it all the way to San Fransisco.”

Aaron is in touch with us, but Hayagriva, Marshall and I made it to Cameron Pass—elevation just under 11,000 feet. And today, the trek took us to a plateau just east of Walden.

We are truly in God’s country and it is a perfect place for monks to be in. There are no billboards, no restaurants, no night clubs, or Walmarts. It is raw nature except for the highway. But there are ranches on this flat strip we’ve been trekking, plus cattle; and there’s moose. Oh, we like those guys.

Moose, deer, ground hogs, magpies in the air, and trout in the river. That is a constant. And our living quarters for three days, are this rustic cabin in no-man’s land. Again, a perfect scenario for three monks.

By our good fortune, we did make the drive to Denver for their Sunday feast Program. I was asked to inspire all from my talk on “Tales from Trails” and to lead kirtan, a chanting session.

The three of us are somewhat sad to see Aaron no longer accompanying us, but in the future, the doors are wide open for him.

May the Source be with you, and with Nick, who did a podcast live on Facebook with us today!

17 miles


Saturday June 10, 2017
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West of Rustic, Colorado
Go Tell It On The Mountain

There is a haunting sound to the wind as it whistles through the needles of the jackpines. Upon hearing the sound, I feel safe. I’m in nature and that is comforting.

It is a gradual, incremental climb to reach the summit of the mountain I’m ascending via highway. The air I breathe is thinning out. That’s because of the increasing altitude.

I took two naps as I made my way up to the parking position. It was sublime sleeping amidst the trees, after kicking off my shoes and reclining on the ground. I was without water for hours and so a patch of snow nearby took care of hydration.

Yes, it is definitely cooler in the heights of the mountains, with periodic strong currents of air whipping through. The weather is deceptive. The wind is strong and dry but the sun is also strong.

Fortunately for me, Brian and Amy from Fort Collins, spotted me yesterday and then again today as I passed by their cottage. The couple eventually came around by car.

Brian asked, “Can we talk?”

“Sure.”

The couple jokingly admitted to “monk hunting” and once they found me they gifted me with water, grapes and a granola bar. That was sweet. I hope to meet them again.

I also want to thank the hosts of an evening program from the night before. Thanks to Sanatan Priya for sponsoring a room for us for a week.

May the Source be with you!

20 miles


Friday June 9, 2017
→ The Walking Monk

Rustic, Colorado
It Starts With The Moon

The moon, in almost complete fullness, was right before me on high; its image tucked between two mountain peaks. Rainbow colours circled around it.

Marshall, who was with me, also marvelled at the splendour of it, and remarked, “My dad used to say that those circles around the moon indicate there will be a storm.”

As the hours wore on, we did not encounter a weather storm, but the rage of the Cache la Poudre River, aka the Poudre (pronounced poo-der) River. I personally love the roar of a river in my ears, as opposed to the roar of trucks. It is real mercy (fortune) that very few trucks visit this road, Hwy 14. I am astounded that cars and recreational vehicles don’t tumble down into the river with this meandering road at its side. There are no barriers to keep traffic in. I am also surprised that the towering rocks, seemingly ready to give way, do not roll down to crush the traffic. This is a tight valley.

I do think of people, acquaintances, I know while walking. I think about and pray for those who struggle with cancer, alcohol and multiple other challenges. I knew them in a period of their life when they were vibrant and youthful. It’s changed now. Age is creeping up for all.

People are important to me. One fellow, in his middle-age, was working in his front yard. I asked, “How far is the town of Rustic?”

He told me, “Two miles.”

I told him of my walk and moved on. Later, he drove up to reach me and gave me a bag filled with half of his personal groceries, all veg-oriented, of course.

Now that’s kindness. He shone like the moon with rings of colour around him. He shone. Thank you!

May the Source be with you!

20 miles

Editor’s Note: 
Bhaktimarga Swami, The Walking Monk, will be interviewed livestream on Facebook on Saturday June 10, at 5:00 p.m. Eastern time. Don’t miss this opportunity to hear some “Tales from Trails!” and the main topic, Learning to Attain Freedom in the Modern World.

Should be very interesting! Please join us!



Thursday June 8, 2017
→ The Walking Monk

Cache la Poudre River, Colorado
New Sphere

We entered a new sphere—the mountains.

Behind us are the farmers, frackers and oilers on those bustling roads. More quietly crawling along at our side are the vacationers on picnics, fishing, and white-water rafting. Some motorists have their mansions tucked into the Cache la Poudre River valley; they are the few and far between, with the exception of one enclave of home huts. A fun sign was posted in this one neighbourhood at the entrance.

It reads:                                                           

WARNING

You are entering a RED NECK AREA

You may encounter

American Flags,

Armed Citizens,

The Lord’s Prayer,

And Country Music.

According to Hayagriva, who is of French Canadian descent, Cache la Poudre translates as hidden powder. “Hidden treasure” is what we liked to call it, because in this very barren section of the Rockies, we enjoy the rushing, winding waters that nourish bush and trees by their side. If we weren’t walking, then we were eating cantaloupe as a refresher, studying the books of Srila Prabhupada and even looking at Chapter One, Verse One, of the great book of wisdom, the Bhagavad-Gita. Our new team-member, Aaron, is making strides at learning Vedic culture and tradition.

Is walking a component of Vedic Culture? Most definitely. Swamis, sages and even retired kings roamed about to enlighten and to be enlightened.

I’m grateful to the people who stopped today to offer water and help in other ways. Our team of Hayagriva, Marshall, Aaron and myself, did put some good mileage under our feet in the beauty of the valley.

May the Source be with you!

19 miles