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Over time, I've learned my dad has been a lot of things in his life: a farm boy, a war veteran, a lawyer, a judge, a horseplayer, a card shark.

Zoom in: As the youngest of his kids, I learned soon enough that my dad had lived four decades before I ever existed.

Background: The generational gaps between my dad and I served as a barrier to "knowing" each other better.

Yes, but: This month, I learned a story about my dad I'd never heard before.

What it said: The photo captured a kid of about 10 in a cowboy hat standing next to a woman in a flannel shirt, in front of a pack horse laden with supplies.

Context: The news story described how the woman and "little John Kamb" — my dad — set out on a months-long hike from their hometown in Skagit County, over the Cascade Mountains to Lake Chelan in eastern Washington, and back again.

Zoom out: My dad was about as young as my youngest kid is today.

State of play: These new details about my pop were enlightening enough, but this week I called to quiz him about that adventure.

What he said: "Well, I wore tennis shoes instead of hiking shoes," he told me. "My feet got so sore I couldn't walk past Sedro Woolley."

Meanwhile, the neighbor went on to complete the trip.

Between the lines: I'd like to think that perhaps that far-off, abandoned endeavor happened for no other reason than to be rediscovered decades later.

Of note: If Father’s Day is difficult for you, for any reason, I hope you do something kind for yourself or others this weekend.

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