An Authentic Life 1.1 for pdf - Universalist Radha-Krishnaism

I sold or gave away my possessions except for
what I could carry in a backpack. I bought topographical
maps of the area. After saying goodbye to
friends and lovers, I flew to Hilo.
The Big Island
I spent a couple of days at the Hilo Hotel recovering
from jet lag and getting the gear and supplies I’d need
to live off the land and the ocean by gathering and
fishing. My pack was quite heavy, but I was in much
better shape in 1980 than I was in 1974.
I hitchhiked to the end of the road at Waipi’o
Valley and got a ride with a guy who turned me on to
bud. I walked down into the valley, easily forded the
river, walked along the beautiful black sand beach
and made camp for the night at the foot of the ancient
Hawai’ian switchback trail up the northwest cliff face.
Early in the morning, a group of locals with
guns and dogs went up the trail to hunt boar in Waimanu.
I followed them. The path is worn a few feet
deep in places and is like walking in a trough. After
about an hour and a half, I reached the third gulch
where there are small pools and a little waterfall.
The trail continued up and down a series of
ravines, about eight miles in all. The switchbacks and
heavy pack made for slow going. I twisted both my
ankles on slippery rocks hidden in tall grass. I reached
Waimanu in late afternoon. Waimanu is a stunning
deep valley framed by escarpments, waterfalls, and
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