Weird Scenes Inside the Goldmine

If you listen to"The Doors", I don´t need to explain the title. It´s a line in the classic song "The End". For those who never delved into this legendary band´s music. The only connection here is a gold mine and the end....please let me explain.

I mentioned in my last post that I was going out to explore properties with a lunatic, Jose. Let me set the scene. Aside from Rancho Tranquilo, I am 50% owner and business partner in a massive piece of land known as Mantaña Azul which is located smack dab in the middle of one of the largest gold deposits in the world, known as the Veraguas Gold Belt by geologists. Before my partners (Panama Dream Finders) purchased this property, a gold mining company was actively exploring the property for it´s gold content. This includes a mine shaft cut directly into the side of the mountain, and drops about 30 meters straight down. Basically, a great big hole in the rock. Jose took me to see this mine, but because of the language barrier, I thought he was taking me to a cave. A cave that he had already explored, and knew his way around. We had packed gear for this, including ropes, flashlights that strap to your forehead and a metal detector.

When we arrived at the "cave" it became clear that 1. this was not a cave, but an abandoned mine shaft

2. It did not bore into the mountain horizontally, but vertically...straight down about 30 meters. 3. Jose had not previously explored this hole in the ground, and had a burning curiosity to do so. To prevent any second thoughts from taking hold, Jose threw his machete into the hole. I´m guessing this act had a dual purpose. 1. to gauge the depth and 2. to insure that he could not be talked out of going into the hole. I capitulated, and before knew it Jose climbed down and was encouraging me to do the same. Now, the irony is rich here, because two posts ago, I sanctimoniously declared "You gotta listen to your gut". It can take you to some interesting places, I wrote. However, I failed to mention, that it can also get you into some really F´ed up situations if you don´t use proper judgement. Hungry for adventure, I cast aside my reservations repelled down into the mineshaft with Jose.

Within seconds of reaching the floor, I knew I had made a big mistake. The hole just narrowed down into a crawl space that believe it or not, Jose wanted to crawl into. I was more concerned with how high the surface was, and how tired my arm and legs were from all the hiking. At that moment we heard a fluttering of air come from deep inside the hole. I thought it might be an air current, indicating another opening somewhere. Jose said it was an animal, and at that point we both got spooked, and decided to split. Jose, being 150 lbs, and used to this kind of shit, scampered up the rope to the surface in no time flat. When I tried to pull myself up, I noticed the fatigue in my arms and legs. I attempted to get some footing , but my boots were covered in mud and wet. They must have added ten pounds to my body weight. Because I´m chalupa eating "MF"er, I already have a lot of body weight to pull up. Several tries later, I became deeply concerned. I had somehow become stuck in a mineshaft in a remote wooded area, with only one other human being aware of my plight. Then it began to rain....hard. Water was pouring in from the surface and down the walls making them covered in slippery mud. I was beginning to feel like the woman in Mel Gibson´s Apocalypto. As the rain increased intensity, I knew we had better figure something out fast, or I´d be spending some quality time with myself, down here while Jose drove back to get help. That scenario would take several hours and it would be dark, wet and very, very uncomfortable.

Jose, from the surface, signalled for me to wait. He had an idea, and disappeared from my view. I could only hear him hacking wildly with his machete. I would yell for him to hurry up, and he just kept hacking away for what felt like an eternity. I just kept myself calm with a Buddhist prayer. Eventually, Jose re-emerged with a tree about 5 inch in diameter and lowered it down with the rope. I was impressed that he had hacked away deep notches in the wood, about every two feet, for footing. That guy may be loco but he´s also ingenious. I positioned the post at a secure angle, and climbed up the notches. The first attempt got me close to the top, but there were not enough notches to get me where I felt comfortable grabbing Jose´s wet hands. A slip from this height would cause severe injury. I was too close to salvation, to take that chance. I climbed back down to the bottom and told Jose to carve two more notches at the top. He pulled the tree up and hacked away while I chanted a Buddhist prayer and tried to keep my wits.

I remembered the leather belt I had put on earlier even though I didn't really need a belt . (if you know what I mean) "You can always use a leather belt " I remembered thinking to myself as I took the time to run it through the loops. Now, this belt may be the difference between life and death. I pulled the belt through the loops and wrapped it like a lasso around my right wrist. Having the tragic vision of the buckle breaking just as I was being pulled up to safety, flashed through my brain. I wrapped my wrist twice with the belt. In my gut, I knew this would be my last good chance to get out safely. Another fall back into the hole could cause injury, and I would be stuck. I again chanted Nam Myo ho Rengea Kyo as I shored up this log. My bare feet found footing on Jose´s makeshift ladder. With each rung, I got a closer to the top. The two new notches made all the difference, as I was just high enough to slap my belt toward Jose. He missed my first attempt because he was unaware of the belt. Once he understood, he grabbed the belt and pulled with all his might, allowing me the support I needed to make a lunge for the closest tree trunk, which happened to be the tree the rope was tied to. I got it, and slid my wet, tired and muddy body to the surface. I laid there in the mud for a few minutes as the rain pounded my exhausted, but deeply relieved body. It was a harrowing experience I won't forget. Thankfully, I was with someone who could think on his feet in a crisis.

Indigenous peoples believe that mountains are living entities, with a consciousness, and a spirit. Often, permission is asked of the mountain before entering for hunting etc. A mountain´s wrath is unforgiving, as has been demonstrated by countless deaths of hikers and climbers caught unprepared for the mountain´s mood swings. I have been humbled, and feel a new respect for this mountain known as Mantaña Azul. I guess you could call it a reverence for this mountain, because this mountain could easily have been unforgiving and taken my life. After all, I had recently, in all my human naive arrogance, become part owner of this mountain. In a higher reality, this mountain politely reminded me that it is the other way around. When entering into a mountain´s sphere of power, that mountain owns me. A lesson I will never forget.

Mantaña Azul could have swallowed me whole, but instead spared my life. Although I am half owner of this piece of land, I am now indebted to, and have a personal relationship with the spirit dwelling in Blue Mountain. As long as I am affiliated with this mountain, I will have to remain true to its spirit. Since pre-Columbian times, humans have walked the same trails I walked on this day. Later, the Spanards combed through here, looting its minerals. Even today, a gold mining company covets this mountain's wealth. As holder of the title on this land, I, along with my partners, ultimately decide it's fate. Perhaps, the spirits that dwell here were trying to tell me something. I'm not sure. I do know, I am not taking anything lightly.