Rishikesh was enough fun. A nice place to smoke a lot of pot by the side of the Ganges and watch Western hippies walk by with their gurus and this "all-knowing" look on their faces. I've never felt any kind of scorn for hippies 'till I got to this country, and now it's almost pervasive. It might be wierd that in two months I've gone from spending 10 days locked in a meditation ward to hating hippies, but I think when it comes down to it, I loved the idea of coming to India to "find yourself" until I started meeting people who came here to find themselves.

It's not that I disagree with some of the things that come out of their heads (except for their ideas on science; they always hate to find out I have a degree in Biochemistry), it's that the words of the Griz, the old sage of the Beer Store on Clement was right: "Most of it's just to get into your pants." To have to listen to some of the WORST metaphysical conversations on a daily basis didn't do much to help my spiritual self-esteem. But to have to consistently see wide-eyed, dreadlocked, hairy legged girls wearing saris follow these western guys with beards, sarongs and "the guru walk..." That's what did it. It's not about mind-expansion. It's about getting dumb girls into bed.

OK, I'm basing this on a handful of people I've met. But there's definately a pattern of wide-eyed girls following solemn, "all knowing" guys around. And most of them, when you try to talk to them, look straight through you and can never really answer the questions you ask.

Maybe I'm not giving them enough credit. During my 10 days, I would have looked you straight in the eye and been to self-absorbed in what was going on inside my own head to answer any kind of question. But watching other people go through the same process made it seem so futile. OK, go to India. Find yourself. But then come back a better person! So many of the people I've been meeting here have no plans to go back. In fact, they have no plans to do much of anything, until the money runs out. Then they'll find something to do.

What kind of benefit is that? Spending your whole life "finding yourself." I guarantee that nobody here is going to attain enlightenment. Fine, I'm being short sighted. Nobody here will find enlightenment this life. Or the next. Buddha had to wait 300,000 generations after somebody told him he'd one day reach enlightenment? Brahmin yogis, maybe. Western hippie tourists? Not just yet. So why lock yourself in an ashram in Rishikesh?

The Beatles did it. I went to the Maharishi's ashram here where the Beatles (and a few hundred other people) lived in tiny smurf houses for a few years at a time. These bungalows are awesome, and really 60's psychedelic looking, made from a 10 foot diameter cylinder with a spiral staircase around the perimeter, leading to an 8 foot tall dome on top with a 4-foot door. I guess only pictures would do them justice. Anyway, the place looked like the most fun in the world. But they came back (except George really) and made the world a whole lot trippier with some really psychedelic albums. There's a benefit. I just wish people would bring something better back to our world than more organic vegan restaurants.

Back on the motorbike. Back to India.

I went to Renuka, which was neat. Not only was it named after Anitha's sister, it's also (quite fittingly) a wildlife preserve. They keep a small lake absolutely brimming with fish so that all sorts of birds stick around. They also put some of the sickliest looking lions in a cage together to hope they'd breed and make more. AND BREED THEY DID. About 20 minutes after walking away from them, I heard the repetative grunting of one lion followed by a few long, drawn out roars from another. It was a lot like having noisy roommates, except I was a HALF MILE away. It was probably the funniest thing I've ever heard, I only wished there was a way to record it.

On the way out I got seriously lost and spent about 8 hours driving what should have taken 2. All the signs were in Hindi, so I think I went to the other end of the state. Whatever roads I took, none of them were on my map. It's an Indian made map. I can't complain to anybody here because they'll just look at me funny and say, "what? It's an Indian made map."

So the bike's not broken and, Ganesh willing, I'll be in Manali by tomorrow night. It's a good 250km through hills (that's a lot out here), but my bike's almost burning as much oil as petrol. There's some gasket in the cylinder head that the mechanic in Dehli GLUED back together, so now I have to wear jeans to prevent the boiling oil from frying my calves. I should have went for a newer engine...