I had this overwhelming desire to go for a drive towards Mt. Baker and explore some back roads. I was driving a small stick shift car like the Ford Fiesta Cindy owned when we were first dating. Cindy and I pulled over at a small convenience store at the base of the mountain and went inside asking for back country maps with logging roads. The store was filled with skiers and snowboarders sharing stories of their triumphant rad day cutting through Mt. Baker’s freshest powder.  The store clerk seemed confused as to why we would be travel up the mountain so late in the afternoon as dusk was setting in. I explained that I felt compelled to go searching for something, not yet knowing what I would find. He informed me that he had no such maps for sale, put had an old mountain area map framed on the back wall from the old mining days at the turn of the century that I could take a look at. It happened to be near the bathroom, as there was a long line waiting for the facilities. I studied the old map trying to find my bearings and noticed a few secondary side roads I had never noticed before. 

We decided to venture out, as it was a cold winter’s evening and the snow began to fall. The traffic out of the store parking lot was backed up bumper to bumper with red tail lights not moving, just staying solid red. So I decided to pull around them and take a back way out behind the store driving by a collection of old rusted out mining equipment that must have been historic artifacts from a museum, now forgotten decaying in the weather.  The old dirt road at first paralleled the long the main road with the long line of cars , but as the snow fell harder and the dark evening was setting in, the red tail lights of the cars began to fade away in the distance. I could tell Cindy was nervous and wanted to turn around. I empathically said we need to continue down his road and see what we could discover.  We  drove slowly in the packed snow that seemed like a tunnel from the tree canopy overhead. It was peacefully beautiful and inviting as we drove deep and deeper into the woods not seeing the night sky or even moonlight.  The head lights of the car reflected off each snowflake like its unique miracle that sparkled back at us luring us further and further away from civilization. 

After what seemed for hours, but may have only been minutes we came across a clearing that looked down into a valley. The snow had stopped and now the moon was ever present lighting up the sky and reflected on the snow below. There were small specs of orange lights below us, but we couldn’t identify it from the car. We had reached the end of the road and had to get out of the car to identify this undiscovered territory. Once again, Cindy, expressed her reluctance of continuing on and I convinced her to trust me as this journey was as important to her as it was to me. Far in the distance down into the valley we could see people around several campfires having a great time. Some skiers, bust mostly snowboarders were celebrating their awesomeness, much more enthusiastically than their counterparts in the store hours earlier.  As we walked through the crowd of dozens of winter enthusiasts we were greeted with the friendliest smiles and nods like they were familiar with us and expecting us. The snow was calf deep as we continued our trek through the mini groups of people celebrating their victories over the mountain. The sky was filled with stars, too many to count. Though the fires brought light, it didn’t seem to melt the snow below it as I had experienced on many past Boy Scout winter camping trips in the past. I couldn’t understand how this many people could get this far away into the wilderness. There were no roads, but the one we took, no other vehicles, snow mobiles or even cabins. How would everyone get back I thought for a moment? Then I saw the back of a familiar yellow parka. It was the old A&B Railroad jacket my father gave me that I loaned it to Kyle many years before. I would recognize it anywhere. But I remember Kyle told me it gave it to a homeless person that was sleeping on a park bench one cold evening in Bellingham because they needed more than he did. Could this be the same homeless person? Or had it been passed on a few times. Maybe this individual knew Kyle or had a story to share about him as I was desperate to learn any new detail about Kyle’s life since it had been nearly two years that Kyle graduated to heaven. 

 Then I froze in my tracks as a familiar sound I had not heard in years caught my attention. It was a giggle that sounded just like Kyle. And I thought for a moment, could it be, surely not, my ears are playing tricks on me. I want it so bad to be Kyle, that I’m now hearing things to so as to wish it to reality. I let go of holding Cindy’s hand as we approached this tall young man and tapped him on the shoulder. I noticed this young man’s long blond hair was wrapped in a familiar bun I once saw in a previous dream. When the young man turned around, It was Kyle!….our Kyle!…our son!  Kyle  had the biggest smile on his face and gave each one of us the biggest hug and squeezed us so long that if we were tooth paste, it would have been emptied.  I could speak no more as I was in shock, but Cindy was present in the moment. And then when Kyle spoke and were heard his voice, there was no doubt it was him.  Next I thought, could his passing have been a dream? After the extended squeezing hug he gave his mother he spoke saying, “ I’m am so glad you find me. I tried my best to leave you crumbs of hints to search for this place so we can see each other again. I knew dad that you would follow the clues like all those treasure hunts you did for Alexander and me when we were kids. I wanted you to bring Mom here so I could give her a Mother’s Day hug, because I knew she needed one from me. Thank you for bringing her to me.” 

I had to interrupt and ask Kyle, “How is this possible? How did you get here? And where are we? I don’t recognize this valley.” Kyle responded, “This is ‘Snowboarder’s Heaven’. When I made it to heaven I connected up with a bunch of snowboarders and we travel all over the world snowboarding down the best hills God ever created. I wanted to bring the group back to my home mountain to show it off to them, and see the both of you. I’m sure glad you made it Dad.” “Me to.” I exclaimed. “Tell us more of what you have been through since we saw you last?”

I don’t remember all the details about our conversation that fateful evening by the fireside that lasted late into the night, but I do remember Kyle was very excited and happy with his eternal life in heaven and would explain all the magnificent beauty he has witnessed since he moved on. He would talk about all the wonders he discovered and explored and how he also stayed with us always seeing what we were doing, playing little tricks by sending us messages to see if we would catch them. Kyle mentioned how his Nagypapa met in him the moment he arrived in heaven and introduced him to all our family that arrived to heaven before him.  Kyle’s epic heavenly stories seemed to go on for countless hours explaining in such great details the wonders and beautiful paradise we call heaven. After hours of conversation late into the night, Cindy began to doze off wrapped in Kyle’s arms by the warm fire. I didn’t want the night to end, I just wanted to hear more about Kyle’s amazing experiencing – he was never this talkative before. Yet here he was in the flesh right in front of me sitting on a log stump telling stories of heaven like an old wise man. I hung on for a few more hours and started noticing that all the other snow boarders were fading away into the darkness, leaving just Kyle and I chatting around a camp fire like our old Scouting camping trip days.   

At some point, I don’t know when I must have dozed off too, as I awoke with snow falling on my face and holding Cindy in my arms. It was the first time I started to feel the cold. It seemed like early morning and the sun cast this deep pink color on the snowy mountain side. As I looked around me, there were no signs of the dozens of camp fires from the night before, no tracks in the snow. The falling snow must have buried the evidence I thought to myself. All I could see was a faint view of Cindy’s Ford Fiesta’s side mirror being the only part of her car exposed and not buried in the snow. I woke Cindy up and asked her, if she remembered last night, and she said of course we were with Kyle. I asked, “But how is that possible?’” She said it doesn’t matter – it happened and I’m holding on to it.” I agreed and commented, “we better get out of here before the snow gets too deep and we can’t drive out of here.” We hiked the 15 minutes up the hill back to the car. It started up right away as I brushed all the snow off of it. As I turned the car around and made our way back, we experienced the same dark tunnel of snow under the canopy of trees. We drove for at least an hour. There were no forks to make turning decisions on. We just followed the same road back trusting it would take us back to the store. 

Once we got back to the store it was still kind of dark with the red brake lights still illuminating the parking lot. I commented to Cindy that there must be a bad accident or avalanche that was blocking the road for this back up to still be here the next day. I convinced Cindy we should go inside to grab a bite to eat as we had not eaten since the morning before. As we walked through the front door, the store clerk greeted us once again. I thought it was odd he worked late the night before and then again for the early morning shift, but figured he must have been stranded also. Then his question caught me by surprise, which questioned my reality. “Did you find the map in the back I told you about beforethis huge crowd of customers got in here?” he said. I hesitated, confused by the timeline with in his question and exclaimed, “You bet I Found it! We took the road behind the store through the old ruined mining equipment and followed it for hours last night and found this beautiful paradise people called ‘Snow Boarders Heaven’.” At that moment, everyone in the store, stopped what they were doing, turned around in silence and looked at me in shock.  No one made a sound. It was like I triggered some deep serious intimate response. Then continued,  “What’s the matter?” the store clerk wiped his hand in his dish towel and came toward me from behind the counter and said, “Listen my friend, you came into my store a an hour ago looking for a map for some back roads when I told you to look in the back. We don’t have a collection of ruined old mining equipment behind our store, let alone a long old logging road.” I was dumb founded and told him to follow me, I opened what I thought was a back door which if my bearing would be correct should have lead me straight to a pile of  rusted out old mining junk and the road to Snowboarder’s Heaven. Instead, to my disbelief, the door opened to the back of the store that only had a garbage dumpster,  a couple of modern day out houses and a wall of old skis made into a fence blocking off the back of the property that I had never seen before. “This doesn’t make any sense!” as I ran my fingers up my face through my hair. I looked to Cindy for confirmation that I wasn’t going crazy, and she smiled acknowledging that she remembered the events of the night before like I did. I went back inside and sat down on a keg right next to the back door. The store clerk continued, “You are not the first person to mention “Snowboarders Heaven”. Many a snow boarder has been searching for decades for such a snowy powder paradise, and only a few have experienced it all stating that a lost loved one led them to it, but was never found again. The legend is as old as this mountain.” Cindy thanked the clerk and took my hand leading me outside back to the car which was once again covered by snow, by now the red tail lights of traffic were moving and less crowded.  We started back down the road sharing our memories of the night before exactly in sync. As we approached closer to Bellingham, I was feeling more tired and my eyes became heavy and I closed them, what seemed like only for a moment. When I opened them again, I was in bed on Mother’s day morning excited to tell Cindy about my dream with our son Kyle. 

As remembered by Kyle’s dad 

Konrad Kocsis 

May 8, 2022