There’s a special feeling being on the high reaches of a cloud-veiled peak.  The whole world is hidden from view in an insubstantial realm of mist, and yet the peak stands solid and strong under my feet.  When ridges and towers appear as half-seen shadowy forms in the mist, they somehow actually feel more solid and substantial to me.  There’s an air of mystery to the peak, but also an unexpected feeling of permanence.  It’s all still there whether I can see it or not. 

And it reassures me that the peaks will always stand there awaiting me even when I can’t see them, whether it’s in a cloud of mist nearby or in a fog of convention back in the city.  The good things persist in their power to inspire and sustain fundamental choices in my life.  And it’s not just mountains.  Among people and communities, there are also fundamental mysteries that retain their reality and power in all conditions, intangible yet rock-solid in their living impact.  Faith.  Hope.  Love.

So was it worth summiting Goode in the clouds, with no views?  Absolutely.  It rounded out and completed my experience of the peak.  I had seen its distant prominence many times from other peaks.  I had felt its size and height in my own legs as I approached it.  I had enjoyed the challenge of its rock as I climbed it.  And I had been rewarded with an intimate experience of its summit, hidden and private the clouds, just us and the mountain.