Looking Up At Cloud Whiffs Breezing By

Solitary Hosteler

July 11, ’80

After a breakfast of blueberry muffins and coffee, we thanked Tony, Noel, and Stan for all their hospitality and then started hoofing it out of the back-country. Up around Jonas Pass, Peter and I left the trail to explore the rising mountain columns above us. I discovered the entrance to a natural amphitheater and in the center was a huge rock. With a little imagination the rock became an altar. Of course, I had to climb it, and lying prone on top, I offered myself up to the gods as a sacrifice. All that was play, but lying there, looking up at the cloud whiffs breezing by, all play stopped. I was filled with primal emotion. When it came time to leave, I felt completely renewed. When Peter and I met back on the trail, we started out for the hostel once again, and we made it back before dark.

The following day, after I said good-by to Peter (we exchanged addresses), I started bicycling toward Banff. The weather was good, and since I was already at the highest point of the Jasper-Banff highway, it was downhill from there. After coasting into what seemed like a bottomless valley, I was greeted by a strong headwind. Ten miles later, I sought shelter at a youth hostel. On the door, I found a poorly scratched message that read, “Make yourself at home. Gone to Hilda Creek hostel to work. Be back tomorrow.” Alone in the hostel, I watched the rain fall through the hostel’s solitary window. After a period of long silence, I reached for my journal and started to catch up on the events of the past few days.