HUMANITY HIKER

We had not hiked far up the rain forest draped trail when Cindy remarked: “I remember this, and not that long ago.” My mind was dismissive at first. I had only been up this stretch of trail once, back in 1977; I knew that Cindy had never been here. We often associate dementia with not being able to remember things that were; this was not the first instance of Cindy remembering things that were not.

Cindy obviously was pleased with this false memory; I finally figured out the cause. “Not too long ago” by middle-age reckoning our whole family hiked the Wonderland Trail, not far from where we were, starting out on a west-facing rain forest slope much like the one we were on now. I was pleased that Cindy was pleased. Is it more important now for her memories to be correct or pleasant? That’s a no-brainier for me.

As we curved higher up towards north-facing slopes the snow patches began. Cindy had trouble hiking on the snow, with each struggle came discouragement. As we climbed further I had my own troubles with route finding. That brought back my not so pleasant memories of my first day on our PCT thru-hike.

We spent our whole first day in the snow, also struggling to find the trail. The day never climbed above freezing and at day’s end I had my first and so far only feeling of “we’re not going to make it” while thru-hiking. What made things easier was depending on Ken Bell for the route-finding. With that stress eliminated it was easy to just think: “I’ll keep going wherever Ken leads.”

I’ve had plenty of opportunity to navigate my way through the wilderness since, mostly on my own, including over the snow. However I was only responsible for myself. I plodded on this way or that without needing to think much about the consequences. Now on our first day out on Cindy’s quest for the Triple Crown I was all too aware of my responsibilities to both my wife and daughter. I wondered if Ken felt similar stress 37 years ago.

Charissa appears to be in some ways a young me; she would have just soon plodded on and accept the consequences. Cindy was a different story. She would have followed anywhere, just as I did with Ken. She even might have enjoyed the sections out of the snow; her short memory worked to her advantage in this case. Yet she would have been miserable in the snow, with those stretches coming too often for now.

I made the call, over some mild objection from Charissa, to turn back. We would go further south to start our hike north to the Canadian border, precisely at Mackenzie Pass in Oregon. I also resolved that we really had two goals. One was to get Cindy the Triple Crown. The other, and more important, was to enable Cindy to enjoy life, even at the cost of the other goal.

Out of the snow Cindy loved what she was doing, as expected. Hopefully with our fresh start from Mackenzie Pass she can continue to love what she is doing all the way to the Triple Crown.

Long drives

The last day of our long drive out west coincided with Friday the 13th. Not that I’m suspicious but the day started off with me thinking I left my cell phone in Bozeman. Then a gas pump in Missoula started doing weird things … by the attendant’s own admission. I found the cell phone, but only after missing the opportunity to photograph a beautiful rainbow with a verdant green, mountain backdrop.

At least Karl Mattson has been getting some good shots in. Karl is a Norfolk homey from Charissa’s class who just earned his Bachelor’s degree in Photography and Print Making. He came along with us to help me with driving duties … and to see the West for the first time.

My first drive out West was to hike the Pacific Crest Trail in 1977, the part of the Triple Crown I did before meeting Cindy and, because of that, the reason why we are driving out to hike that same trail now. During that long drive I recall filling up with gas near Omaha in the evening, with the thought of traversing the entire state of Nebraska before filling up again. Hey! I’m from the small state of Connecticut, what did I know!? As we got farther across the state I drove ever slower, coasting down whatever passed for a hill in Nebraska. As we got farther west the exits grew increasingly sparse, as were open gas stations in the late night. We finally coasted in to a two pump station at 2 am and proceeded to put 21.9 gallons in a 20 gallon tank.

I hope Charissa doesn’t read this (hello sweetheart), but I’ve had to give Karl “on the job” training with driving Charissa’s standard car. The first time I drove across the country with Cindy I had to do the same for her with my standard. We had just finished hiking the John Muir Trail with a group. There were a couple other hikers driving home with us as weLL and Cindy thought she would get out of driving duties. Nope. Not a chance.

Cindy actually drove the car well and has driven standard ever since … until she no longer could. We’ve never had an issued with Cindy driving with Alzheimer’s. There came a time when she no longer felt she could, way before she would have got into trouble doing so.

Most of our long drives have been with our kids: to Florida for Disneyworld; to New Mexico for Philmont; to Washington to hike the Wonderland Trail. I can remember the kids fighting and getting on our nerves during these long drives; I don’t recall Cindy and I ever getting on each other’s nerves despite the cramped quarters.