I don't believe in karma, but I feel compelled to keep an eye on it. Sort of like a bear that you think is dead, might even poke with a stick, but won't quite turn your back on. You're pretty sure that it can't hurt you but the possibility, however faint, that you might turn around to encounter a bone-shredding maelstrom of fangs, claws and fur (have you experienced wild animal fur up close? It tends to be kind of mangy) is enough to make you exercise a little caution anyway. It's just one of those things.

The thing that makes the whole karma concept seem especially dubious is that the universe seems to regularly dish out large spicy helpings of what appears to be karmic balancing. These events are almost certainly coincidence but they happen often enough, and with unsavory enough results, that the whole concept of karma stays in my mind. An excellent example of apparent karmic balancing struck (and struck is a good word for it) my friend Kal last winter. We were going ice climbing and in a fit of epic stupidity I went out drinking the night before (I blame my co-workers), showing up bright and early the next morning with a sizzling hangover.

On the 20-minute approach hike I was vaguely aware of moving slower than Kal. I didn't worry too much because the route we were climbing was an easy one and only 150 feet high. As I climbed it I found my head throbbing while I bashed clumsily away at the ice. My legs shook, my axe placements were limp-wristed and feeble, I more or less groveled my way up it. Kal quickly came up, smiling, breathing deep of the cool mountain air and reveling in the subtle beauties of our alpine environment.

"So what should we climb next?" Kal inquired brightly.

"Next? You mean you want to climb something else?"

Disbelief. "Of course! We just got here!"

I grumbled and we wandered along the ravine to where a couple of other small but difficult routes were, only to find other parties already climbing them (thank God, thank God, thank God).

"Ohhhh, too bad they're already taken," I feigned disappointment. Kal cast a sideways glance at me.

"Lets head up the ravine and see if another route is formed up there."

I scowled at Kal and then silently fell in behind him. He appeared to be snickering a little. Off Kal tramped, marching up the winding ravine, with me trailing along behind. The rocks on the trail frolicked around my feet like playful kittens, tripping me no matter how I tried to avoid them. My pack swung drunkenly from side to side as I stumbled, worsening the lurching and burning up precious energy as I fought its clumsy momentum. I was sweating. Kal was getting further and further ahead, periodically casting smirking glances back at me. "I don't think it's here," I called out. Kal continued to march along without looking back.

My head ringing, my legs unnaturally tired, I threw my pack to the ground, crawled onto a big boulder, lay down and attained a Zen-like state of enlightenment not unlike sleep. About an hour later Kal reappeared.

"Find it?" I asked.

"Nope, must not have formed."