Where's the Pilot is a tale of a Seeker's journey through five foreign lands to uncover the Truth within himself and the world he exists in, meeting many people from different cultures and walks of life, learning about the diversity of humanity while trying to discover the answer to a never ending riddle. Excerpt: Chapter 1: Kashmir Sometime in the late summer of 1997 I found myself riding on the rooftop of a bus in the middle of the Indian Himalaya. Why was I there? What was I doing? My thoughts floated in the air as the majestic mountain landscape passed by. It seemed as if it was all some surreal dream. I never imagined one could get so high spiritually or physically for that matter. We were somewhere around 4000 meters (13000 feet) and climbing. The limited oxygen at this elevation has serious strange effects on the human brain. I was leaving Ladakh behind, leaving the imposing and isolated peaks, leaving the serenity and silence of a peaceful land and heading into a war zone. My destination was Srinagar, the capital of the ethnically troubled and divided region of Kashmir. Why was I going to this far-flung destination? Before embarking on this trip to India I felt overwhelmingly drawn to Kashmir. I had heard the stories and read the headlines: 'Civil unrest worsens in Srinagar', 'Hand grenades thrown into bus stand in Pahalgam', 'Five Western backpackers kidnapped and beheaded while trekking in the mountains'. Still, I had made up my mind: I was going. And no one could stop me. I learned at an early age not to believe everything you read in the media. Most of it is propaganda of one form or another. Since the partition of India in 1947 Kashmir has been a problem. Under British rule Kashmir functioned as a princely state enjoying much greater autonomy than other regions of the empire. With the partition, the Brits decided to let Kashmir choose for themselves whether they wanted to be part of India or Pakistan. The prince of Kashmir procrastinated in making his decision and Pakistan invaded claiming it as their own territory. The prince appealed to the Indians for help. The Indians came and never left. The region of Kashmir is a large valley which is presently split. About 1/3 under Pakistani control and 2/3 under Indian control. After two wars between the two countries over the valley, things calmed down and in the 80's Kashmir prospered and was one of the most popular tourist destinations for rich Indians and wealthy Westerners boasting beautiful lakes, lush mountain scenery and luxury houseboat accommodation left over by the Brits. Sadly much of the merry money holiday making came to an abrupt halt in 1989 when this long sad ongoing conflict broke out. An independent Kashmir was called for. Armed gangs of young men took over the streets of Srinagar. The Indian army lost control of the situation. The majority of Kashmiri people are Muslim who resent being governed by Hindu Indians and therefore decided to take up armed struggle to achieve complete independence or merger with Muslim Pakistan. There were many warnings to dissuade travelers from going and many reasons to be afraid. Yet, I could not be deterred. Something unexplainably powerful was calling me to this far-off land. Was I crazy? Was I possessed? I didn't feel to be either at that time. I felt quite sane. As we approached the 4700 meter (15400 feet) pass my anticipation grew and then suddenly there it was in front of me: The valley of Kashmir. It seemed as appealing and peaceful as the Garden of Eden. In only one minute the stark grey and brown barren mountains of Ladakh were transformed into a lush and fertile land blooming with life. Note: This edition includes an essay about the author's travels and research project on environmental activists Earth First and humanitarian aid group Food not Bombs in the Pacific Northwest of the United States and British Colombia, during the 1990s called Yard Surfing, Moose Chasing & Hitching my Way to the Truth