Mountain Qualia

NaNoWriMo Day 9

"I'm almost seven," the boy said.

"Seven of what?"

"Seven!"

"Oh, years? Good to know you're six years old."

"I'm Julian. What's your name?"

Tipi skipped a step to think. "They called me Tipi, short for The Toki Ponist of the Mountain."

"That's silly, Tipi."

"You're silly."

"No, you're silly." He kicked a rock over the edge which tumbled down the steep grassy slope. "Didn't your mom and dad give you a name?"

"I suspect they did," Tipi said.

"So what is it?"

"I don't remember, but I was told it is Joakim."

"I like Tipi."

They followed a wooden sign with the name Gaststätte Zum Fettleibigen Knödel on it, which was probably the hut Julian's family was headed to. The path lead the two into the pine forest again, which meant more challenging climbs. Julian's small legs had more difficulty taking the tree-root steps but he could clamber on all fours and had the energy of two raccoons. Tipi had difficulty catching up.

"Wait up," he said. "Before you lose me too."

Julian scowled back at Tipi. "Hurry up, they might have gone home without me!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming," Tipi huffed.

After two more signs to the Gaststätte, they exchanged the forest again for a grassy patch that would be used in the winter to ski downhill on. A long winding path worked itself up to a small wooden structure. "I think it's up there, " he said to Julian who lit up and picked up pace again. Tipi tried to match his speed.

He could almost see a tiny figure waiting at the top, looking down, searching for his son. Once he'd recognize Julian he'd run down the hill and they would embrace. Julian would say he was sorry and so would his dad. His mom would be further up the hill, crying and waiting until the two would come up to her for a family hug. But the father would not let go immediately. It would be such a delightful sight. They would thank Tipi for bringing them back their only son.

"Do you have any brothers or sisters?" Tipi asked.

"No"

They would thank Tipi for reuniting them with their only child. Tipi could use the karma points if he ever was to become enlightened again. Not much of a guru if you won't even help a child find back his parents.

The karma points had to collect interest in the bank for a while, though. There was nobody waiting for Julian near the restaurant. There were several hands full of people drinking and eating on the terrace and from all sides people stumbled to and from the hub at the hilltop. Further up he noticed the ski lift which was now out of service for the summer. In between there was the playground Julian had been talking about.

Tipi unpacked two lunches from his backpack and handed one to Julian. "Here, take something to eat while you look around for your parents. I'm sure they are around somewhere." Tipi in the meantime took his lunch in the grass. Schnitzel on a kaiser and a banana. He was halfway his banana when a young man on a mountain bike huffed by. He got off his bike and let loose a set of curses. Then he threw the bike in the grass, looking peeved at valley down below.

"Everything alright?" Tipi had asked the man from a small distance.

"This stupid bike can't handle it."

"The bike looks fine to me."

"It's the battery, it doesn't give enough juice to get me up these slopes."

"Battery?"

"It's an electric bike, of course." He hissed. Then he walked off to get himself a drink in the restaurant.

Why would you want an electric mountain bike? Isn't the whole fun of the biking in the physical effort you put into it? He had a soft spot for mtb-ers, much like he disliked cycle racing and running. Those sports were about monotony, to get into an almost robotic rhythm, a conscious deafening repeating of steps and a preference for long stretches of repeating underground. To Tipi, mountain biking was not about the mountain but about single rider tracks, twisting in the least efficient way from point A to B.

He finally understood why the mountain is not a metaphor for tackling the challenges of lfe. Kathy had it all backwards. Yes, you could see the mountain as an obstacle to overcome. And once you've conquered the mountain you have flattened it, but there never is just that single peak. On each slope there is a smaller hill to climb. Once you've flattened a major peak, those small hills will grow into mountains of their own. And flattening those mountains will reveal new hills. 

The distressed man with the disappointing bike was making a mountain out of a molehill. He overcame the challenge on his bike without even breaking too much of a sweat. Yet, here he is drinking his problem away of having to exert some of his own effort and not solely relying on a fully charged, powerful battery. His challenge is no longer the actual mountain but his beef with technology. And even if the battery had been sufficient, he would find something else to complain about. The mountain is not the peak alone; it is the infinitely long curve of hills upon slopes upon smaller hills upon slopes upon smaller hills. The whole thing is self-similar. Tipi couldn't blame the man, though. Once you flatten peaks, there is no reference to distinguish the larger peak from the smaller one. Instead of conquering each peak, we should try to construct the bigger mountain that is crushed beneath our feet.

Julian returned to Tipi with an empty lunch bag. "I can't find them, " he said.

"Have you tried inside the restaurant? Maybe they can call your parents?"

"I don't know their number anyway," he said.

"Look, I'm on my way further up the mountain, so I can't really help you anymore." He felt karma points ticking away after every painful word. "I am sure there are people near this place that can help you and take you down into the valley."

"But they're all strangers!"

"So was I, two hours ago," Tipi protested, not sure why he tried to reason with a six-year-old.

Julian sat beside Tipi in the grass. The man from earlier jogged from behind them to his bike. And put on his protective gear to prepare for his descent.

"Can't you take this kid down with you?" Tipi said. "He's lost his parents."

"No!" the man answered and gestured to indicate he had bigger problems to deal with.

"See," Julian said. "I like you."

"Fine. Did you finish your lunch?"

"There were ducks in the pond."

"Good, let's go back down to my hotel, they'll take care of you there. They won't take care of me, but I'll deal with that later?"

"Don't they like you?"

"They might if I could afford another night."

"You're silly."