The (rope) ladder to heaven is conveniently located just a few hundred yards from here at the derelict, sprawling, and abandoned Christian summer camp that neighbors Caldera. The zealous boys and girls of yesteryear have since moved on to the equally sprawling and derelict temptations of adolescence, leaving behind scattered evidence of their pious summers past — a plastic chalice Holy Grail lying among the blood of Pine Christ, a fallen Jacob's ladder beside the frigid stream of absolution, and fuel to warm the soul and stave off Satan. But you can't shake the devil that easily — he was there too, causing strange growths to hijack logs, building underground dungeons to beckon bad campers, and planting strange idols to offer other forms of worship. Luckily there was Suttle Lake to wash away my sins and keep me clean. My bathroom soap bottle reminds me that cleanliness is next to Godliness, so with my sink as my alter, I must be getting close.