Cloud Dementia

Climbing towards Arch Angel Valley in the Talkeetna Mountains Range, ethereal mountain mists soon enveloped Grant and I . . . it was as though we had surreally time-traveled through a wormhole in the clouds to a silent majestic world of peaceful serenity . . . I wanted to camp out . . . forever!

“How much farther Dad?”

My son’s query yanked me back to reality. The temperature had dropped as we climbed, and it was now beginning to lightly drizzle.

Something was amiss. It had been a decade since I last made this hike to an idyllic, rustic cabin that once sheltered a gold miner on his claim at the base of a glacier. Global warming has since claimed the glacier, but where was the cabin? I had hiked to it several times in the past, and even slept in it once, caressed asleep by cool mountain breezes . . . where was it? . . . had dementia finally claimed this ole ragamuffin’s trails memory?

“I think it just over the next ridge son.”, my pride responded, hoping it was.

Grant nimbly scrambled up over the boulders ahead of me.

“Nope he shouted. Just a fireplace someone made on top, and another valley further up.”

I silently admitted defeat.

“I’m sorry son. I remember it being over there against the mountain below that snow patch where the glacier once was. It’s starting to drizzle more. Let’s head back.”

I was losing it, and with it the anticipated boastful joy of showing my son a remote cabin where his old dad had once slept one night caressed by cool mountain breezes, while the aurora borealis danced in the heavens above . . . the drizzle suddenly seemed colder.

By the time we made it back to the trailhead where we had started five hours earlier we were considerably damper, any spirits even damper.

A young couple in a pickup truck were also preparing to head back down the mountain. Relinquishing my pride, I asked the guy,

“Did you ever hike out to Arch Angel cabin? I’ve been there years ago, but I couldn’t find it today.”

“Once”, he replied, “Before it was taken down because kids were going out there partying.”

You can’t find what isn’t there! . . .my dementia vanished! And, although it was now starting to rain, I suddenly felt the sun come out 😊

Here’s some more scenes from a father/son hike I will forever cherish. They echo the refrain from Jen Johnson’s song, Goodness of God:

“His Goodness continues to run after me”

May it continue to run after you as well . . . Be Blessed!

Keep Looking Up ^ . . . His Best is Yet to Come!