We take a day hike with our guide, a steep incline, gaining an estimated three thousand feet. Here resides a ninety-six year old Lama, attended to by his sixty-six year old daughter. We take turns receiving his blessings. He chants over us. His skin is the color of leather. His room is carved out of a cave and hardly contains the four of us. For a moment I think of all the jokes surrounding the mountain mystic and the meaning of life. His daughter offers us tea from the entryway. After a brief visit, Scott and I leave but Tim wishes to stay behind. He joins us later in the village.