The next day I decided I wanted to camp by the river after all, so I broke, packed, unpacked, and set up near Caribou Creek. I ate some oatmeal and sulked a bit because it was rainy. Near my camp, I noticed some mushrooms growing out of moose poop. I know that there are mushrooms that grow out of poop that are hallucinogenic. If you’ve been following me for a while now, you will note that I had a stage in which I was very drawn by drugs (which I may write about later to give my stories more context). Now, I haven’t done any for a number of years, but they still tempt me every once in a while. I thought to myself, “what a lousy day, it would be much easier to trip balls on some shrooms and chill in my tent then try to make something of this day.” Drugs are a very passive way to deal with issues/have fun. I didn’t do those shrooms, and I probably wouldn’t have anyway because I wasn’t 100% sure what they were.
I made myself go pan for gold. Mucky work it is, leaning in a numbing stream, scooping up muck, and pawing through that muck looking for the tiniest specks. I kept at it for a couple of hours. I did find some shiny speck, though some seemed silvery. When I went back to my camp to put those specks in a jar, I was frustrated to note that some had white and blue backs to them, as if they were candy wrapper chunks. I do think I found a couple of legit flecks, even though I ended up losing them. I got burned out on that and reverted to a crappy mood again. I walked and prayed it out though. I soon realized that my whole gold quest was stupid. Here I was in the midst of beauty complaining. I also realized that I was ignoring all the spiritual blessings that I should be happy about. I remembered a quote by Brother Lawrence that goes something like “we don’t need to run around looking for treasures when we have the Ultimate Treasure inside ourselves”. I decided then that I would go in my tent and trip out, but on the Spirit not on mushrooms. I would go look for treasure, but in the Spirit not in the stream. What a metaphor for the many ways people seek out happiness, but fail to look in the right place (I already knew this at the time, but in my imperfection revert to unspiritual frames of mind) Panning for gold is sort of like contemplation in that during the practice I felt like my consciousness was a cold, numb stream that was uninterested in spiritual things at the moment. The gold of the knowledge and the presence of God also seeming like a flake in the muck of my thoughts that must be found with great diligence.
Caribou Creek
Caribou Creek
After some time of reading, prayer, and contemplation I did become more spiritually oriented — the cold stream of consciousness became warm and intoxicating and the the knowledge and presence of God far outshone the muck in my mind. I stayed in my tent for some hours, just gazing at God. I began to enjoy my surroundings more too, which shouldn’t have been difficult. Caribou Creek is a chocolate colored river surrounded by high rock walls and a forest (which was in its fall colors) I even considered staying another full day with no other purpose than being with God, but eventually decided against that. I packed up camp and started down the road. I walked for some miles and eventually came to Long Rifle Lodge — a restaurant overlooking Matanuska glacier. I got a fat burrito, a cinnamon roll, and some coffee.
Matanuska Glacier
I walked some more before getting picked up by a pink dump truck. This was the first time I had gotten picked up by an industrial vehicle (he later told me he wasn’t supposed to pick up hitchhikers, but his boss wouldn’t know). The driver was a friendly guy from Phoenix, in his 40s or so. He seemed to be quite the outdoorsman, which gave us something to talk about. We also chatted a bit about God, he too was a believer. He took me all the way to Palmer (40-60 miles). I walked through Palmer, hitching all the way, and on the Western edge of town a young guy named John picked me up and took me 20 miles or so down the road to Eagle River. He was 21 and already partner in his father’s construction business. It seems he has a bright future. From Eagle River, I followed a walking path into Anchorage for about 10 miles. The walk went by fast though because I felt like I was in a perpetual state of revelation, like I could see the meaning of the Gospel more clearly than usual. The theme of my meditation was the Kaleidoscopic view of the Gospel, which I may write about later, as I don’t have space in this article.
I stopped on the outskirts of Anchorage, unwilling to walk the remaining 5-8 miles to the hostel. I splurged and got a cab. The driver was a Nigerian fellow and a very nice guy. We talked about God briefly during our brief ride and he dropped me off at Spenard Hostel, where it all began. I spent the remainder of that night cooking, eating, and writing.
Pilgrim's Map 