It has been several years since we did our Alaskan trip. I think about it constantly and often talk to others about how they must also take this trek to the north. There is one section of the trip that remains in my mind, oddly more than others. It was a simple moment that really shouldn’t have captured my attention at all, yet it did.
We had departed Alaska and travelled through Yukon to Northern BC. Rain was forecasted for the next few days (12 days of rain, mist, and drizzle would impact our time in BC, but that is another story). Clouds were forming in the sky.
I can only assume that my experience with clouds is very much like everyone else’s. These puffy white floaty things are always up in the sky, and to see them, one has to look up. It’s those rare moments in life when a cloud can be below that make life interesting.
My wife and I finally decided to visit the CN Tower. At one time, it was the world’s tallest free-standing structure, and even though several other places have since claimed that title, it is still a great place to view the world. To be so high up gave the world a unique perspective. There is a small airport near the CN Tower that, looking down at planes flying, gave an odd emotional rush. Then there was the small puff cloud that we noticed. The sky was devoid of all clouds, except this one, tiny cotton ball-shaped cloud that slowly floated away. We were above it, looking down, watching it gracefully move away. We witnessed something so unusual in our experiences with clouds that we were silent during this long moment.
This is why I was getting excited about what I was seeing ahead of me when we entered Northern BC. The road we were on followed a long ridge of mountain peaks that slowly meandered up and down. The route was high enough that clouds were along the road we were on. I impatiently drove on this road. It would rise in the mountain and then sink lower. It seemed specifically designed to torment me as I tried to get to the cloud.
And then it happened: I reached the cloud—excitement at last. Before, we saw a cloud below us; now we have the honour of driving through one—a first for both of us.
Oh, the joy we will experience.
I am certain I held my breath when we were mere seconds away. I could see that this cloud fully enveloped the road. The car pierced the boundary of the cloud. We were….
Unimpressed.
There was nothing special about clouds or the ability to drive through them. It had been an experience that I had done many times before, but I called it fog.
I can only guess that big, amazing things stick out in our memory, but it is also those weirdly disappointing things that remain in our minds, glued forever, as an uninteresting story.
