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We stayed in that RV campsite for two more nights. We’re not a real roughin’ it type of family. My dad was but
it always drove my mom crazy. It was originally my wife’s idea to do the camping thing and road trip across country.
I don’t mind it but I wouldn’t push that sort of thing on my wife if she didn’t like it.
We spent another day exploring Rocky Mountain National Park and then on Monday we took our final drive through the park and
left through the western entrance. I let my wife be the navigator for the trip. I do the driving and she figures out how to
get there. We bought one of those Rand McNally Motor Carrier map books that the truckers use. When she was studying it for
the next leg of our adventure she came across a road that if we took it would save us a lot of driving. But we wanted to confirm
how to get to it so we stopped in a liquor store and I asked the guy at the cashier if he knew. He referred me to someone
who was in the store at the time, a bearded gentleman in his sixties. He gave us directions to route 128 that would connect
us with Interstate 70 and take us to Glenwood Springs.
Route 128 is a dirt road but not the kind of dirt road that throws up a lot of dust. It’s composition seemed to be more
of clay than anything else thus allowing for a smoother more consistent surface. In other words, that was the finest dirt
road I had ever driven on. On the average we were driving around 60 mph on it. It got tiresome after a while because I was
constantly monitoring its surface for pot holes but it was fine.
It was great once we got onto interstate 70. But there was this unbelievable traffic jam about halfway between where we exited
onto it from 128 and Glenwood Springs. Ambulances were trying to weave their way through the logjam of cars so I suppose there
was an accident. It wasn’t until two hours later that it cleared up and we arrived in Glenwood Springs that evening.
Glenwood Hotsprings is one of the largest outdoor sulfur hotsprings I have ever
seen. The length is the size of two olympic swimming pools. It’s a great place to come and relax but I was disappointed
that it was located so close to the interstate. I was expecting a more secluded location but nevertheless I was tired from
driving all day and so my family and I just parked our car and walked in.
We got there in the evening so the hot weather had begun to cool off some. The warm, well I mean rather hot waters were so
soothing. But after a while I had too much of a good thing. While seated on the edge of the hottest part of the pool I began
to feel uncomfortable and eventually nauseous. I then got myself out of the poor and went over to a chaise lounge by the pool.
But I felt myself starting to black out so I called my wife over and explained to her how shitty I was feeling. Then she brought
a towel over to me and covered me with it. Then I just rested for a while and never went back in again.
So much for that. To tell you the truth I was looking forward to this hot springs resort since we left home. My first hot
spring was up in the hills in Santa Barbara, California. Remember I told you about when I worked for the California Conservation
Corps in 1978? One of my fellow workers befriended me and told me about this hot springs up north. So, on our day off from
work we hitch hiked up to Santa Barbara. Then we hiked up the mountain about a half mile or so. What he showed to me was
a succession of small pools that was fed by a trickle of sulfur hot spring water. The way it worked was that the higher the
pools were, the warmer they were. So, you worked the pools like a circuit going from hot to successively cooler pools or you
go in whatever pool you wanted to. And there was just him and I in this one group of pools. About a thousand feet adjacent
to where we were was a couple, a man and his girlfriend. So, aside from them we were completely alone.
But let me explain a little more about these hot springs. What really happened here was that there was a hot spring resort
located in Santa Barbara somewhere that was being fed by a pipe on this hill. You could see it coming straight up the mountain.
But somehow a leak developed in the pipe and voila, you have a potential free hot spring. I suppose when this got discovered—probably
by some hikers—they began to create these pools that the spring water flowed into. Then they gathered together some
rocks, lined each pool with them and that was it. There was really nothing else that was done up there. It was very simple.
A leak develops in the hot spring pipe, and believe me, as I recall it was a gash about a couple of inches in length on a
seven inch pipe. There was still plenty of water going through that pipe for the resort in Santa Barbara.
This place was like a little piece of paradise. My friend and I took off all our clothes and eased ourselves into the pools.
It felt great. And as we got into the water our feet sank into this soft, silky muddy bottom. Then one of the first things
he did was to teach me this Hopi Indian song. Here’s how it goes.
Whitchi tai tai
himorai
hoenica, hoenica
hey, hey hey, hey
omiai
Water spirit, water spirit
round’ my head
makes me feel glad
that I’m not dead
And we repeated those verses for like about fifteen minutes. Then we got out and went into a cooler pool. And when we started
looking like prunes we got out and started running around our camp. We didn’t put our clothes back on. In fact, we didn’t
put our clothes back on until we left on Sunday afternoon. You know, it’s a funny thing but I don’t remember us
putting up a tent or eating or going to sleep either. There was something so odd about this experience I had that weekend
and it’s difficult for me to account for the time that I spent with my strange but beloved friend.
It wasn’t until last year when I was reading a book about ascended masters that I finally understood who this individual
was. In this book,
“The Seven Sacred Flames” by Aurelia Louise Jones on page 130 is a painting of an ascended master named Master
Hilarion.
For those of you unfamiliar with ascended masters, these are individuals either male or female or who are extraterrestrial
who have accomplished a certain level of consciousness in which they no longer need to continue incarnating in the physical
realm any longer. That’s what happens when you finish working on your issues and all your stuff; you move on and graduate
from this infatuation with the physical world and go on to bigger and better things. That’s what has happened to all
of those people of whom we think of as saints. They go on to the higher dimensions and work from there to help us here on
Earth.
Master Hilarion was known as Saint Hilarion who lived from 290-371 AD. He founded a monastery in Palestine and he also spent
a lot of time in the desert, like Jesus, preparing himself for his mission in life. He worked miracles and he was a renowned
healer.
But this is who had befriended me. This is so very true. When I saw his portrait which an artist channeled and I thought back
to what this fellow looked like back then, BOOM, it hit me like a brick. I was so amazed. He incarnated on Earth—which
he didn’t have to do—so that he could be with me for those few days and share that special experience with me.
So that’s why I was looking forward to this hot springs in Glenwood and why I felt so let down when I got sick. I was
comparing this with this mystical experience I had with an ascended master. You see, when I went with my friend to that sulfur
hot springs it didn’t affect me like it did in Glenwood. And that was my first time in hot sulfur water too. I can’t
explain why the hot water affected me the way it did in Glenwood. I don’t know. Maybe it was because I was almost thirty
years older than I was then. Or perhaps it was the altitude that had something to do with it. Or maybe it was by virtue
of being with Master Hilarion. Perhaps his highly evolved energy protected me from any harm that might befall me from
the hot spring water. Who knows; it was weird but I’m glad that I got a chance to tell you about what happened to me
in Santa Barbara.
Part 4 of "Our 2008 Western Vacation"
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