Sipping Himilayan milk tea in a wooden mug from Chilean Patagonia, Michael Powers finds himself back home at sea level in Miramar -- in between ambitious adventures. Arriving three weeks ago from a 13-day trek in Nepal, with a group he gathered from the Coastside, Powers sits next to a fading yellow globe with an eye tracing the horizon.
He is simultaneously looking backward and forward, tossing over the stories from the trail toward Mount Everest. He is about to begin writing articles for travel magazines and producing a documentary film with Ocean Studio partner Mark Fraser of Bolinas. As he sits, his eyes focus further away on a possible destination for the next expedition in 2010 -- Iceland.
  
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At that time, 500 miles to the south in Riverside, his father was in business for himself, fiercely independent, but alone.
“He had a big sign above his shop that said, ‘Jack Powers, Watchmaker,’” Powers recalls. “There was literally no room for us, any of his sons, to come into that world because it was very specifically his.
“He was 61 and very alone at the end of his life because he had created a world that was pretty egocentric and individualistic,” Powers said. “I watched my father grow old in an isolated family where he was left defenseless. He didn’t have a community or religion or a family group to pull on.
“He was isolated, felt useless, and wasn’t able to make it anymore as a businessman. So they closed his shop because he couldn’t afford to keep paying the rent,” Powers said. “A few days after it closed, he shot himself.”
As it is with many sons and daughters, Powers loved his father deeply, seeing him as a role model in many ways while also hoping to define himself by walking a different path. “His tragic ending was a great lesson in my life,” Powers said. “I have many of the same inclinations.”
Powers will enter his 70s in 2010. He is keenly aware of the isolation that is frighteningly common for elders in the community. He is nearing the 25th wedding anniversary of a loving relationship with his wife Nani. His children often come by the house, including his daughter, Marika, who works as a wilderness guide. She often joins him on his expeditions.
Powers, however, continues to cultivate and hope for something more, to be a member of a group that includes his family but stretches the circle wider to include friends, neighbors and business partners who can weather the storms and share in the joys of life.
He seeks a tribe.
“This tribal dynamic is something we get to experience on each one of these Ocean Studio journeys,” explains Powers. “And in this one it was very poignant to me.
“Going to the Himalayas is not a pony ride. It was a journey where we went beyond our predictable limits. That was really dramatized when one of our members, Steve Guchin, had to be medically evacuated after only three days on the trail. It was a real challenge for all of us, whether physical or mental.”
“That is why the tribal dynamic is such a strength for the group,” he said. “I believe the good leadership we had with Karma and the Sherpas, the support, nurturing and consistency they provided gave people a sense of safety even though the world we were in was completely foreign to them.”
Ken Coverdell, another Miramar resident who went on the Nepal expedition, agreed. “Karma saved a life on this trip. Which really put into perspective that you are out there on the edge of nature and you could die being in that situation.
“We saw every single person demonstrate a human frailty and the Sherpas are amazing in how they take responsibility,” he said. “It’s not just about carrying your bag or bringing the tea, they are taking full responsibility for our lives. To think they took 14 random people and accepted full accountability and responsibility for their lives… that’s some major stuff.”
“It was a great group,” added Sally Coverdell, Ken’s wife. “A lot of it was because it was a stressful trip and no one could leave up their mask. Thanks to the organization and care of Karma and the Sherpas who planned the days, followed the maps, and found our lodges, the only stress was the physical challenge of the trek.”
As each day on the trek took the group further into the extreme environments, members began to further rely on and support one another. Whether it was loaning an extra pair of sunglasses, sharing prescription medicine to prevent altitude sickness, or simply words of encouragement along the trail, individual identities slowly expanded into a shared group consciousness.
“I felt in so many ways that we were all breathing with the same lung,” Ken Coverdell said. “When it got steep you could feel it, but you felt it in everyone. I felt that common heartbeat was kind of cool.”
Standing atop Kala Patthar, the 13 members of the expedition shared the belief that they could not have made it to 18,190 feet without each other, Karma Lama, or the six Sherpa guides that had accompanied them. At that altitude, Badur poured hot tea from a Thermos. It provided some hydration, heat and a moment to sit together and converse.
Two days later, at a lodge in Dengboche sipping hot noodle soup around the dinner table, Michael Powers raised his mug of tea to propose a toast and the idea of naming the group the Karma Tribe in honor of Karma Lama. Cheers and mug clanks rang out as Karma blushed a bit then all returned to the warmth of soup and conversation.
“Nothing has changed much in all the centuries,” Tim Sullivan of Half Moon Bay observed. “Places like this are hotspots for the gathering of tribes. Along these ancient trade routes people are still coming together from different backgrounds, ethnicities and classes. And the exchange of stories and cultures continues to take place.”
“Today it seems that more people are coming here than ever before and from wider circles,” Sullivan said. “The lodges now feel like a luxury but there are still the locals, Sherpas and porters. I think Michael has it right with his belief of the importance of the tribe. It’s something that we can all continue today, in new ways but old forms.”
An adventurer defined by extreme sports before the category was invented, Powers is often pigeon-holed as an adrenaline junkie. At a moment’s notice he could throw a kayak atop his rusty white truck for a solo paddle along in heavy surf around an unfamiliar rocky coastline. Indeed he almost lost his life becoming lost at sea by himself on a Tsunami Rangers retreat three months ago in Northern California.
There are countless stories of Powers’ brazen feats in the wilderness. While the photos fill file cabinets and the stories could fill volumes of books, he seems to think that it doesn’t amount to much if there is no one to share it with.
As he again recounts a classic tale, Nani humors her man and smiles fondly on the frequent occasion they have guests around the table for dinner.
Powers is often extending invitations, whether for a dinner, a three-week expedition or shared business venture. Big or small, for a moment or the rest of time, his hope is simply to have enough people to continue along as a tribe.
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