How to Surf a Boulder

Throwback issue from April 15, 2017… September 10, 2021 [UNSUBSCRIBE]( | [WEBSITE](Put_Website_ [Altucher Confidential] “You’re in the best possible scenario,” Dr. Wang told me, “for the worst possible scenario.” [Email Masthead] Chris Campbell here. This week, I’m off the grid, hunting down new opportunities. In the meantime, here’s an oldie from my archives. It’s about the time I dodged a boulder in Guatemala. Read on. How to Surf a Boulder By Chris Campbell Do NOT Invest in anything until you see this While mainstream media headlines are focused on the pandemic and the election, shocking details about this rare occurrence happening right now are being ignored. Something is happening right now that could result in profits even HIGHER than investing just in gold bullion itself. And this gold expert with decades of experience has recorded [a brand new briefing]( on how you can take advantage of this unique opportunity. He’s urging Americans to watch this before they invest in ANYTHING.[Click here before this opportunity comes offline.]( “Help!” I yelled into the darkness as blood oozed from my chest, shoulders, legs, and toes, hoping like hell someone would answer. “Help!” “Hello?” a woman’s voice emerged from the abyss. “Are you OK?” “I don’t know,” I said. “I think my leg’s broken.” In a daze, I hobbled to… Wait. Sorry. I’m getting ahead of myself. Let’s back up for a moment. On April 15, 2017, I arrived at Panajachel (the “New York” of Lake Atitlan) in Guatemala -- the same day, it turned out, as Interpol. I was there to find a quiet and inspiring place to write. Interpol, on the other hand, was there to find Javier Duarte, the former Veracruz governor who fled with millions from his state and disappeared. One of us found what we were looking for. Javier Duarte went to jail. I took a short boat ride from Panajachel to Paxanax (say it with me: posh-a-nosh), which some called the “Beverly Hills of Lake Atitlan.” [Duarte] Javier Duarte is escorted by police following his arrest in Guatemala on 15 April 2017. Photograph: Carlos Alonso/AFP/Getty Images I stayed in one of two houses built and owned by Deva Nirguna -- a friend, architect, self-proclaimed “OBA” (Old British Artist), and long-time resident of Atitlan. Beautiful place… [Room] [Room] The magic of Atitlan "Atitlan," I was told by a walking travel guide at a nearby cafe, “is a Mayan word meaning, ‘the place where the rainbow gets its colors.’” It made sense. The raw beauty is unlike anything I’ve seen. The dramatic slithering footpaths. The wildflowers growing like weeds along the fences. The boats bouncing softly in the misty waters. The Mayans in their bright tribal clothes. The beautiful houses and the eccentrics who built them and who spin the yarns about life on the lake. The volcanoes I watched from my bedroom window. The warning on the kitchen table: “Warning: If you see the volcano erupt... take pictures.” A surprise around every corner. Plenty of inspiration to be had. I began to relax into the lake. I’m going to write the next great novel here! Unfortunately, the lake never did seem to relax into me. --------------------------------------------------------------- [Recommended Article] [Oops. The Fed Crashed the Market… Again! | Laissez Faire Today]( --------------------------------------------------------------- First came the fire It took only four days for me to almost meet my maker in a wildfire. Flames, I’m told, spewed about 20 feet above head only a stone’s throw from where I sat with my headphones on and, like a scene from Mr. Bean, happily tapped away at the writing desk. Nirguna discovered the fire when he saw his neighbor, Paul, trying to beat back the Goliath with a tiny garden hose. “I just wish I had my camera,” he said in his low British drawl. “It was a magnificent shot. These massive, sweeping flames with Paul there with his little hose.” “So,” I asked, “how did you guys get the fire out?” “Well, that’s the interesting part,” Nirguna said. “Out of nowhere, four guys swooped in and handled it. They were incredible. No idea where they came from. Glad they came. Everyone else had left for the day.” Turns out, a local set the fire at the top of the ridge to burn his crops and walked off. Unfortunately, the mountain was parched. The lack of rain turned it into one big city of tinder, causing the flames to quickly spread in patches all along the ridge. I had heard afterward, in passing, murmurs from worried neighbors. Fires loosen up the soil, making the mountains more sensitive to landslides. The rainy season is right around the corner. It could be a rough one. Federal Order #2222 Just Unlocked A $1.2 Trillion Opportunity [Federal Law]( Most Americans have probably never heard of Federal Order #2222 before, but experts are calling it… “A Game-Changer”… “A Landmark Ruling”… and “The Most Significant Order Ever Issued”. Why such the high praise? Because Federal Order #2222 just kicked off a new tech boom poised to surge 12,100%… Unlocking $1.2 trillion in new wealth over the coming years. With a little-known 3-letter ticker symbol at the center of it all. [Click here now to get the details on Federal Order #2222…]( [and the #1 Ticker Symbol For This Government-Backed Tech Boom –]( [For FREE]( How to surf a boulder It was around 8:00PM on Sunday, April 23, 2017. The rain had been pounding on the roof for about an hour or so. I was propped up in bed with my laptop on my lap. I’d been sick since Friday night and was still nursing it away. Stomach issues. Something I ate from the market. I won’t go into details. [Room] I heard a thunderous crack outside. Then another one, equally foreboding. My eyes darted up to the ceiling, toward the horrible sound. My first thought was a massive tree was falling nearby. Close. Too close. My eyes were still fixed on the spot. And that’s when it hit me. Everything went dark. Strangely, while I could hear the room crushing, it felt distant. All I felt was the sensation of falling. Falling. Falling. Falling. And then nothing. Silence. And then I heard the rain again. And I could feel it, too. On my arms and my head and my back. And I could feel the wind. Confused, I looked around. I was outside. My body was scattered alongside broken pieces of wood and big chunks of rock. My glasses, in a desperate act of self-preservation, had leaped from my face. I checked my teeth. None missing. Not even a chip. For some reason, I took that as a fair indicator I was OK and stood up. Pain. I looked down. A long black stain ran down my right leg. ‘Maybe not OK,’ my brain said. ‘Seek help.’ “Help!” I yelled. “Help!” “Hello?” a woman’s voice shouted back. “Are you OK?” “I don’t know.” I didn’t. I looked at my leg. “I think my leg might be broken.” Dazed, I hobbled to the front gate. “I’m Dale,” the gate said in a man’s voice. It startled me. I squinted. No. It wasn’t the gate. It was a man. A man! There was a man at the gate! “Are you OK?” “Uhm,” I looked down. “I think my leg’s broken.” “Well, if you’re walking on it it probably isn’t broken. Let me see.” He shined his flashlight on my leg. We both looked. The black stains were now red and they had reached my foot. He was right. Bloodied up, yes. But not broken. “Do you have the keys to the gate?” Dale asked. “They’re inside the house. I’m locked out. I fell from upstairs.” “You’re going to be OK.” He was calm. He gave me permission to be calm. “We’re going to take care of you, OK?” I was calm. “OK,” I said, the gravity of the situation starting to sink in. “But,” Dale said... Oh, no, here it comes “We can’t help you until the gate is open. Can you get the keys?” “I don’t know where they are. I’ll try.” “Here,” Dale said, “take my flashlight.” “Thanks.” I hobbled over to the side door of the house and turned the knob. As expected, locked. I picked up a rock and smashed the window. I slid my arm in the hole, flipped the latch, and entered the disaster zone out of which I was just spat. I limped up the rubble-smothered steps and assessed the damage. The left side of the room was, aside from being draped in a thick white dust, untouched. The right side, on the other hand, looked like a drone strike. For obvious reasons, I began my search on the left side. I picked up my pants and the gate keys immediately fell neatly on the couch. Success! I worked a sock around the flap of skin I could feel dangling from the bottom of my right foot and put my shoes on, letting the tongue soak up the blood from my leg. I hobbled down and unlocked the gate and let them in. For some ungodly reason, we went back into the house. Dale captured this shot of me getting a better look at the aftermath… [Room destroyed] Soon after, I was led to the neighbor’s house. I showered and scrubbed my wounds and my hosts -- an hour ago complete strangers -- helped me clean and bandage them up. The next day, sore as I’ve ever been, I was graced with a visit by Dr. Wang, a Taiwanese doctor. A couple of hours later I was given a sack full of medication, bandages, cream, and peroxide. “You’re in the best possible scenario,” Dr. Wang told me, “for the worst possible scenario.” “Huh?” I asked. “You’re going to be OK.” I was going to be OK. How it went down, in pictures. The rock… a very big rock from up the mountain… got loose, took out a studio up the hill, kept going, bounced off a small corner of the upper house and came crashing through the lower house’s roof -- of which I sat unadvisedly beneath. [House destroyed] Here’s the entry point… [Boulder - entry point] At some point during the scuffle, the rock overtook my bed (you can see the bed on the bottom right, with my covers in its maw). [Boulder - exit point] How did I make it out? --------------------------------------------------------------- [Recommended Article] [Web: Models vs. Science [Part 2] | Gilder's Daily Prophecy]( --------------------------------------------------------------- Here’s how my ego imagines it happened... I, with the survival prowess and various extrasensory abilities I’ve honed over the years, pounced on top of the rock and allowed it to break through the wall… Where I gracefully hopped off and, for effect only, sprawled out in the yard below like a helpless injured lamb. [Boulder - side view] At least, that’s how I choose to remember it. (And that, dear reader, is how you surf a boulder.) [Boulder - top view] The bright side. Nearly everything I brought with me to Guatemala was recovered. The guys helping with the cleanup found my glasses and laptop downstairs in the kitchen. Glasses had a tiny scratch. Laptop had a crack through the screen. Pressed the power button… turned right on. I’m using it right now, in fact, to write this story to you. A bottle of wine I’d purchased at the market in Pana was still sitting on the kitchen table downstairs, too. Right next to the boulder. A little covered in dust, but otherwise untouched. Nirguna brought it down to the neighbor’s house, where I was still couch-ridden. “Might as well, right?” he said. “Right,” we agreed. We popped it open and poured our glasses. We were all a bit shaken up, each in our own way… “Cheers,” we said, raising our glasses, clinking them together, and taking a moment. “To life,” one of us said. “To life,” we said. To life, I said again silently as I took a sip. I was going to be OK. Until tomorrow, [Chris Campbell] Chris Campbell For Altucher Confidential P.S. Nirguna later sent me this. A piece of black tourmaline from within the boulder. The tables have turned boulder! [tourmaline] Will this tech kill 5G forever? [5G]( of America’s leading tech investors believes so. It’s all thanks to a recent (and little-understood) Federal government decision that could radically reshape the tech industry. If you own 5G stocks… or get your cellphone or broadband from AT&T, Verizon, Sprint or T Mobile… you need to see this. 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