LIZARDS CONQUER THE PASS OF THE SEVEN
TESTS
October 2006
(Editor’s advice:
Grab your favorite intoxicant and sit back as O’Man spins an epic tale
of high adventure and pure Lizard idiocy.)
What were those crazy old
Lizards thinking? O’Man and Rick had the
inane idea to hike the 50+ mile Benson Lake Loop in six days through the remote
northern boundary of Yosemite National Park.
Along the way they would cross four Sierra passes, including the
infamous Pass of The Seven Tests, the site of the Lizards’ near fatal 1990
expedition. Even more incredulous was
the Lone Lizard’s plan to start two days later, hike 7.7 miles to Peeler Lake,
get up the next morning and hike 11.4 miles to meet O’Man and Rick at Benson
Lake, a spectacular Sierra gem surrounded by granite domes and wide sandy
beaches. The next day the Lone Lizard,
along with Rick and O’Man, would then hike 11.4 miles back to Peeler Lake for a
“last night in the wilderness” celebration. All tolled, the Lone Lizard planned
to cover 38.2 miles in four days. The odds against any of these plans actually
happening increased significantly when the Lizards learned of the weather
forecast for the week: 30 to 40 percent
chance of snow the first hiking day, 40 – 50 percent chance the first night,
and 60 percent chance the second day.
The weather was predicted to gradually improve the second half of the
week with the anticipated arrival of the Lone Lizard. Of course the greatest impediment to the
entire adventure was the fact that all three of these old Lizards were “50
something.”
Sunday Evening – October
1: The Bon Voyage Party
With what is becoming a
Lizard tradition when Rick comes out to San Diego from the land of alligators
and hedonistic college spring breaks, a bon voyage party was held in which mucho
intoxicants were consumed in the midst of sporadic and fragmented last minute
trip planning. For the Lone Lizard, this
would prove to be a less than desirable environment for understanding and
remembering key elements of the plan such as O’Man and Rick hiking the loop
trail in the opposite direction than the way he would be hiking, meeting Rick
and O’Man at Benson Lake or, if the weather or his body didn’t cooperate,
staying at Peeler Lake and hooking up with Rick and O’Man for the last night’s
boozy celebration. O’Man and Rick even
suggested that the Lone Lizard stash a bottle of fire water at Peeler Lake and
thereby save himself some extra weight for the hike into Benson Lake the next
day. Again, what were those crazy old
Lizards thinking?
Monday morning (make that
late morning) – October 2: Obtaining
Essential Supplies
Rick and O’Man descended upon
a local market and, in what surely appears to the outside observer to be
completely chaotic and random behavior, gathered supplies for six days in the wilderness
(within a reptilian standard error of measurement). As usual, the largest amount of time was
spent deciding how much and what kind of alcohol to bring. Walking a fine line between too much weight
and being stone cold sober in the backcountry for more than a minute or two,
the Lizards debated whether or not they should take an additional bottle in the
event they became snow bound or to guard against the more likely scenario that
the Lone Lizard would either forget Rick and O’Man’s commands to bring a bottle
for the last night’s celebration at Peeler Lake or consume it long before he
met up with them. Having already
determined that the weight of his backpack without alcohol could qualify as an
extremely heavy front lineman for the San Diego Chargers, O’Man argued in favor
of a bottle of rum, an equal quantity of vodka, a quart of 90 proof margaritas
and a half filled flask of Yukon Jack.
Rick thought the amount grossly underestimated the need and convinced O’Man
that they should take at least one more bottle for insurance. Good decision – however, a later decision at
the trailhead would prove less than wise.
The Drive (still Monday) –
October 2
The Lizards were on the road
again. The drive from San Diego to
Bridgeport was uneventful, except for the contortions the Lizards had to go
through to try and keep at least one of their four hands on the steering wheel
while attempting to eat two humongous and very messy sandwiches without benefit
of napkins, paper towels or any other facsimile.
Car Camp (still Monday,
but now it is nighttime) – October 2
Shortly after arriving at
their campsite near Twin Lakes, a fetching and very friendly lady came over to
offer the Lizards the use of her lantern and a helping hand in setting up their
tent. Taken by surprise (they were
consuming the second half of their humongous and very messy sandwiches still
without benefit of anything to wipe their mustered encrusted faces) and not
fully appreciating all of the enticing ramifications of the offer, the Lizards
lamely replied that they were heading out early the next morning and were not
planning to set up a tent! O’Man and
Rick eventually recognized their error and eagerly accepted the use of the
lantern, which they returned later that night with great anticipation…
Sitting around the enchanting
lady’s campfire and enjoying a brew, the Lizards tried desperately to ignore
the rather large muscular man and three children that were for some unknown
reason also perched around the fire! The
Lizards’ fantasy for the night dimmed incrementally with each piercing yelp
from the prancing younguns and death ray stares from the imposing fire
master. Oh well, never fear, the
Lizards’ reptilian survival instincts kicked in as they avoided yet another
bout of deep depression by rationalizing that they had a very long and
strenuous day of hiking ahead of them and were better off having a full night’s
sleep.
Tuesday – October 3: Twin Lakes Trailhead to Upper Piute
Creek (12 miles)
Today the Lizards would
attempt to hike from the Twin Lakes trailhead at 7095 feet, climb up and over
10,200 foot high Mule Pass (which in Lizard lore is known as The Pass of the
Seven Tests) and descend into Upper Piute Creek Canyon. Along the way the Lizards would travel 12
miles and ascend a total of 4400 feet.
But first the Lizards had to awaken from their slumber, finish packing
and break camp.
As is his curse and therefore
cursed by all those around him, O’Man arose at daybreak and preceded to stuff
his frost covered sleeping bag with his icy fingers into a sack more suitable
for holding a small rabbit. In the
process, a few expletives may have been uttered, which may have echoed
throughout the entire campground. Meanwhile
Rick grumbled about having to call his law firm in Florida. While O’Man took an axe to the frozen orange
he was trying to pry open and eat, Rick got in the 4-Runner and began roaming
Bridgeport Valley’s 200 square miles in an exhausting attempt to make a cell
connection. When what seemed like the
equivalent running time of Andy Warhol’s film “Sleep,” Rick returned, said he
made contact with his firm and also left word on the Lone Lizard’s voice mail
to stay in the same exact campsite at Twin Lakes with instructions to accept both
the lantern and the helping hand to set up his tent. As is their custom while packing for any
hike, the Lizards debated whether a tent would be needed. With a crystal clear morning sky, the Lizards
were wondering if the forecast for the week had been wrong – maybe it wouldn’t
snow, rain or hail and thereby eliminate the need for a tent. Without the tent, they would have the space
and a lighter load to accommodate the additional bottle of booze. The Lizards made their decision, finished
packing and took the short drive to the Twin Lakes Resort where the trailhead
awaited the two beasts of burden with their foolish and unfounded grins of
optimism.
While Rick made yet another
call to his firm on an old fashion landline at the Twin Lakes Resort Café,
O’Man paid the resort’s ridiculous parking fee to avoid having to park two
miles from the trailhead. Sauntering past a group of cabins, O’Man experienced
a frightening series of flashbacks (damn those 60’s, 70’s, 80’s and 90’s).
It was September 1988 - O’Man, the Lone Lizard, Garcia Man, and Mr.
Jacobs were flying along Interstate 15 in O’Man’s Dodge Caravan having ingested
a brownie or two a half-hour earlier. Hysterical laughter … the 395 turnoff
vanishing in the rear view mirror…no exit until Victorville… cruising and
cursing downtown Victorville… hey, why don’t we look at a map?...rambling over
potholed back roads in an attempt to triangulate their way back to the
395…passing through truck stops and small villages that eerily resembled
locations used for sci-fi and horror films from the 1950’s and early 60’s like
Psycho, The Blob, and Invasion of the Body Snatchers…arriving at the Twin Lakes
Resort in the wee morning hours…which cabin are the Lizards in?...waking-up
half the inhabitants of resort… storming the cabin with the “Welcome Idiots”
note on the door…putting an end to the snoring slumber of Mr. Jones and the
Borsky brothers. Despite the
misdirected start, the 1988 Fall Classic wound up being a successful 23 mile
semi-loop hike around Crown and Peeler lakes, which culminated in a magic
mushroom induced midnight down bootie patrol from the Lizards’ camp at Peeler
Lake to the edge of Kerrick Meadow, where their ears feasted on the echoes of
howling coyotes (or maybe it was Carlos Castaneda). Whatever!
As he wiped the cold sweat
from his forehead, O’Man saw that Rick was still tethered to the phone outside
the cafe. The sight of the café flushed
O’Man down into yet another flashback – the 1990 Fall Classic to the infamous
Pass of the Seven Tests. As described in
the Winter 1991 edition of The YIP:
As the rain rolled down the windows of the Twin Lakes
Café early Thursday morning, the Lizards (O’Man, Mr. Kull, and the Borsky
brothers) contemplated their future course over breakfast. They could ignore all the omens, weather
forecasts, current wet stuff, and incredulous stares from the ‘locals’ and hike
as planned or they could abandon their lunacy, return to Mammoth (where the
Borsky brothers had spent Tuesday night), drink cold bubbly champagne around a
hot spa, and spend the remainder of their time sampling the local night club
scene. Not yet fully conscious (are they
ever?), the Lizards chose the former.
The last backpack had been donned and the mantra
chanted when by some sort of miracle (or trick), the rain stopped and a shaft
of sunlight pierced the dark sky.
Bolstered by the mirage, the Lizards energetically proceeded up the
trail with misplaced optimism…
Would the blinding sunshine
that retrieved O’Man from his flashback prove to be yet another trick of the
Great Guana’s to entice the Lizards into once again attempting the Pass of the
Seven Tests?
Rick finished his phone call
and, with the aide of an automotive engine lift, O’Man and Rick introduced
their backs to their packs and at approximately 9:15 AM were finally on the
trail. Not a cloud could be found as the
Lizards ambled up the Aspen dotted trail, stopping at the entrance to Hoover
Wilderness for a few pics before reaching scenic Barney Lake (8258 ft.) at the
3.9 mile mark, where Rick proceeded to shed the clothing, sweat and trail dust
from his body with a brisk swim.
2.8 miles of climbing beyond
Barney Lake landed the huffing and puffing Lizards at the Peeler and Crown Lake
trail junction. Whereas O’Man and Rick
took the fork leading to Crown Lake and Mule Pass, the Lone Lizard in a couple
of days would be taking the trail to Peeler Lake (at least that was the
plan). About a mile up the trail past
the junction, Rick and O’Man encountered Robinson Lakes and crossed an isthmus
between the two lakes before curving around the shore of the larger lake.
2.2 miles from the trail
junction, the Lizards arrived at majestic Crown Lake and, like the 1990
expedition, stopped for a late lunch.
Only this time around, instead of putting on additional layers of
clothing and rain gear while starring at gathering menacing dark clouds, Rick
and O’Man took off their shirts to bask in the sun’s rays and sample a little
Yukon.
During the next 1.4 miles to
Mule Pass under beckoning cobalt blue skies, O’Man recalled a very different
scene 16 years ago:
And then it happened. 10 minutes beyond Crown Lake,
the sky let loose a volley of hail stones. Reason dictated that they return to
the protection of Crown Lake and set-up camp. Reptilian logic suggested
otherwise. The Lizards proceeded to
scale a very exposed boulder strewn ridge while not only doing battle with the
raging weather, but also fighting back their inner voices which kept screaming:
“Your an idiot, you’re walking on wet rocks, its hailing, and lightning is
arcing across the sky - get the hell down from here before you fry
yourself.” The hail turned to
intermittent soft snow flakes and things seemed to take a turn for the better
when the Lizards spotted a rainbow glowing over a blackened, mist-filled valley
below. The problem was the Lizards were going up!
At 10,200 feet in a boulder lined cirque containing a
shallow ‘unnamed’ snow fed lake, two-hundred feet below the ‘unnamed’ pass and
one and a-half miles from Upper Piute Creek, the alarms that had been going off
inside the Lizards’ numb and exhausted brains for the last hour or so finally
reached what was left of their executive command centers. Without benefit of
the Lone Lizard’s insanic encouragement that they could make the pass or the
Lizard fuel that would have lent false credibility to the insanic plea; the
straight, cold, and hungry Lizards ejected their backpacks and dug in for their
last stand.
With icy fingers and foggy minds, the Lizards erected
their new REI tent and got some soup cooking over a blasting MSR stove. With Sierra
cups ready and ravenous appetites clawing, the first of what would eventually
be seven tests came barreling down from the heavens. Within 30 seconds, the
cups, surrounding tundra, and lake were filled with several inches of Styrofoam
like balls of snow. Light as air with zero water content, the Lizards frolicked
in nature’s equivalent of the infamous packaging material and promptly named
the heretofore unnamed body of water - ‘Styrofoam Lake’ (which they were sure
environmentally sensitive Lizard Di would have objected to vehemently). The
crackling of thunder brought the Lizards back to their senses in time to enjoy
the hot soup before the onslaught of TEST #2.
Much heavier hail powered by strong gusty winds stung as it hit the
Lizards’ faces and extinguished the stoves which were heating dinner.
Intermingled with repeated phases of TEST #2, the Lizards managed to gobble
down a delicious variation of Chicken Divan prepared by Mr. Kull. TEST # 3:
Could the Lizards get inside the tent before TEST # 4?. BARELY! Feeling warm
and secure in their new 6 person aluminum framed tent, the Lizards sprawled out
and listened to the hail and snow pelt against the tent walls. TEST # 4 seemed
like a piece of cake - all the Lizards had to do was occasionally hit the sides
of the tent to clear the accumulated snow - and of course think about how they
would get out of the backcountry which would surely be covered with a few feet
of the white stuff by morning.
Occasional distant thunder and lightening had been
shadowing the Lizards for most of the day, but nothing could have prepared them
for TEST # 5. Without warning, the light
from a too near bolt of lightning penetrated through the tent, through the
sleeping bags, and through the Lizards’ closed eye lids followed instantaneously
by the deafening roar of thunder. A similar effect can be had at home by having
10 of your closest friends take flash pictures 2 feet from your wide-eyed
smiling face while simultaneously activating anti-rape sound blasters! The
spots before the Lizards’ eyes were just beginning to fade when they were hit
with an encore performance. After a while the jaded Lizards became habituated
to nature’s prime time show as it went into reruns. They turned their attention
to exchanging horror stories of people being electrocuted, aluminum poled tents
vaporizing (just like the one the Lizards found themselves encased in), and
synthetic clothing and sleeping bags melting and permanently bonding to the
skin. There was an on-going debate as to whether they stood a better chance of
survival inside or outside the tent. But no one volunteered to carry out the
experiment.
By midnight the ringing in the ears had stopped and
the Lizards felt comfortable in removing their sunglasses. Some were forced to venture outside to
relieve themselves and found a majestic snowscape lit up by billions and
billions of stars. It was clear and calm. A couple hours later and barely
asleep, some of the more insulated Lizards were rudely awakened by the screams
of Mr. Kull and the flailing extremities of the Grand Imperial Lizard. TEST
#6: Gale force winds had lifted one side
of the tent several feet into the air catapulting the Grand Imperial Lizard
onto the slumbering Mr. Kull. Aluminum tent poles bent into unnatural shapes
were slapping reptilian heads. As three of the Lizards valiantly tried to hold
the infrastructure together from the inside, O’Man was ‘volunteered’ to go
outside and re-stake the tent. The frozen Lizard reported that the good news
was the tent and rain fly were still intact. The bad news was that most of the
tent was off the ground! With large rocks and frost-bitten fingers, O’Man
managed to anchor the tent. For the remainder of the night the Lizards uneasily
drifted in and out of nightmares as the wind howled down from the pass.
O’Man had finished replaying
the tale in his head when he and Rick arrived at the small pocket valley that
was the site of the Lizards’ 1990 epic battle.
This time around the valley was tranquil with the sun and surrounding
peaks teaming up to cast late afternoon shadows across “Styrofoam Lake.” In less than 20 minutes, the Lizards were
standing triumphantly atop 10,200 foot Mule Pass –– they had conquered The Pass
of the Seven Tests! It was 4:00 PM when
t-shirt clad Rick and O’Man declared victory and toasted the members of the
1990 expedition with a round of Yukon Jack.
The pass afforded the Lizards a view into their future as they surveyed
Upper Piute Creek (their camp for that night), Sawtooth Ridge and Finger Peaks
(which would frame their hike the next day along the canyon), and in the
distance, Matterhorn Peak and U-shaped Burro pass on its shoulder (which they
would cross the next day).
The 2 mile hike down from the
pass took longer than expected due to the trail’s poor condition and
steepness. By the time the Lizards
arrived at their camp along Piute Creek, the alpenglow on Sawtooth Ridge was
beginning its Technicolor display.
Although fires were permitted in the area, the Lizards barely had enough
energy to cook a quick dinner, take a few swigs, listen to Rick read a passage
or two from Murders in Las Vegas, and crawl into their cocoons under the
watchful eye of a waxing moon. It was
8:00 PM!
When he went to relieve
himself around 10:00 P.M., O’Man noticed that the moon was playing hide and
seek with some rather large clouds.
Back in his bag, O’Man did his best to ignore the gathering gloom. By 10:30, Rick had also noticed the change in
weather. Since they could not drown
their worries with the extra bottle of alcohol that was safely tucked away in
the 4-Runner 12 long grueling miles away, they pitched the tent that they had
decided to bring. Despite the usual
fumbling and grumbling, the tent was standing upright in a relatively short
period of time and the Lizards were once again encased in their bags without
fear of wet stuff penetrating their cocoons.
Maybe their decision to take the tent was the right one after all. Or NOT.
A few hours later, O’Man found himself being bathed in moonlight from a
perfectly clear night sky while he once again relieved himself onto perfectly
dry terra firma. This would not be the last time the Lizards would curse their
decision!
Wednesday – October
3: Upper Piute Creek to Matterhorn
Creek/PCT Junction (8.5 miles)
“Are you sure this is Wednesday
October 3rd?” exclaimed O’Man. “It’s
perfectly clear and downright pleasant out.
Wasn’t the forecast for snow today and tonight?” The Lizards figured the Great Guana had once
again blessed their journey and they set about breaking camp while again
cursing their decision to take the tent and leave the booze. Yummy oatmeal and spiked hot chocolate
soothed their anger and replenished their spirits and once again O’Man’s
thoughts drifted back to October 1990 and a dramatically different situation:
With the coming of dawn, there were some
positive signs. The winds had blown most of the snow into the stratosphere
leaving only a couple of inches on the ground and there was now only an
occasional ‘uplifting’ gust. Back toward Crown Lake the sun was peeking through
the clouds. Less promising were the
red-muted skies and menacing black clouds in the direction of the Lizards’
intended destination - Upper Piute Creek and Matterhorn Peak. TEST # 7: What to do? With only alcohol to aide in their decision making,
the Lizards pondered their future from the warmth of their sleeping bags. Had
they been available, Mr. Jones and hardy supplies of Lizard fuel would have
both argued for staying right where they were. The Lone Lizard no doubt would
have tried to egg the band of reptiles into hiking up over the pass to
Matterhorn Peak and certain self-destruction. Legal Lizard Bobby reminded the
group that his offer to pay for the first night’s accommodation in Mammoth
still stood if they decided to come to their senses and hike the 10 miles back
down to the cars. Not yet ready to admit being fully conscious, the Lizards
decided to hike back down the trail and camp at either Crown or Barney lakes
(weather permitting). It only took a brief thundershower latter that day at
Barney Lake as the Lizards were finishing lunch to finally bring them to their
senses.
Rick and O’Man would have a
much more pleasant experience on the second day of their journey. By 9:00 AM the Lizards were on the trail that
would meander 3.5 miles along picturesque Piute Creek to Burro Pass and then
drop down into Matterhorn Canyon for a 5-mile stroll in Shangri-la surroundings
to the junction with the Pacific Crest Trail.
Piute creek tumbled and
pooled on its serpentine course over glaciated alpine benches as the Lizards
marveled at the glorious expanse of Sawtooth ridge and admired “The Doodad,” an
enormous block perched precariously on one of the higher teeth of the
ridge. Before they realized it, the Lizards
were on the verge of surmounting Burro Pass.
Although not as spectacular as Mule Pass, Burro Pass (10,560 ft.)
provided an unobstructed view of Matterhorn Canyon lined on each side with
lofty jagged ridges and boasting green expansive meadows. Captain Morgan was
called into service in toasting another pass amid another glorious day in the
High Sierra.
The trail through Matterhorn
Canyon was truly delightful – relatively flat with geological and flora
distractions at every turn. The lack of
fauna was somewhat disappointing, but not seeing any human life forms since
leaving Twin Lakes was compensation enough.
After some scouting and
surveying, O’Man found a prime Lizard camp along Matterhorn Creek, near the
junction with the Pacific Crest Trail.
Like the previous night, cocktail hour arrived late due to extended
amounts of hiking and sight seeing.
Defying the weather forecast (which had called for snow that day and
night), the Lizards once again started their slumber under the moon and stars
and this time they ignored all paranoid thoughts of setting up the tent. Little did they know, it would be the last
time they would sleep under the stars.
Thursday – October
4th: Matterhorn Creek to Rodgers Lake
(10.5 miles)
The Lizards awoke to a partly
cloudy sky and a persistent breeze – not usually good signs for a Sierra
autumn. However, they recalled that the
last weather forecast they heard predicted only a 20 percent chance of snow
showers for the day and even less of a chance that night. The Lizards reasoned that the cloud cover
would be a welcome relief from the sun’s intense rays as they climbed 1800 feet
and surmounted 10,121 foot Benson Pass on their way to a nice afternoon dip in
Rodger’s Lake – their destination for the day and 10.5 miles from where they
were eating some more yummy oatmeal.
The cool breeze hurried the
Lizards along as they broke camp. Within
a relatively short period of time, they had reached the junction with the
Pacific Crest Trail amid increasing cloud cover and wind. After about 90
minutes on the trail, thunder could be heard in the distance and small ice
crystals began to fall from the sky at intermittent intervals. By the time the Lizards encased themselves in
rain gear, the storm had organized into a steady stream of large fluffy flakes,
creating a surreal and majestic backdrop to the canyon the Lizards were
ascending. If nothing else, the Lizards
would not have to worry about overheating as they surmounted Benson Pass! Maybe
it was all the excitement and distraction of the snow, but the Lizards seemed
to travel the 4.5 miles of the Pacific Crest Trail to Benson Pass in record
time. Atop the pass, the Lizards could
barely see each other, much less make out any landmarks or where they were
headed.
2 miles below the pass, the
Lizards stumbled upon Smedberg Lake (9219), where Rick served crackers topped
with peanut butter, jelly and a white icy frosting. About a mile from Smedberg
Lake the Lizards found the trail junction to Rodgers Lake. Without hesitation, the Lizards took the fork
toward the Lake, even though it meant they were headed to the most remote
location of their journey in the middle of a snowstorm - by day’s end they would be approximately 24
miles from the nearest trail road.
The Lizards reached Rodgers
Pass at 9793 feet without incident, which in better weather provided impressive
views of Rodgers Lake and the surrounding peaks. O’Man blindly followed Rick’s snow imprints
down to Rodgers Lake along a seldom traveled and narrow, ankle twisting trail. Fortunately for O’Man, Rick managed to navigate
the increasingly snow obscured trail without stepping off the edge and falling
into the abyss that cradled Rodgers Lake.
The Lizards arrival at
Rodgers Lake (9507 ft.) was greeted with, you guessed it, more wind and
snow. Rick and O’Man promptly went about
setting up their tent and by the time they were finished putting their gear in,
the rate of snowfall began to taper off.
Erecting the tent was proving to be an excellent method for warding off
evil weather gods. With blue sky
puncturing holes through the storm clouds, the Lizards explored the lakeshore
amid intermittent snow showers. By the
time they got back to their camp, the storm had departed, revealing an
exquisite and pristine winter wonderland in one of the most remote and
spectacular areas of the Sierra. The
Lizards grabbed their cameras and took another stroll around the lake to once
again marvel at nature’s majesty.
Returning to camp, Rick and
O’Man manically readied themselves for an extended happy hour on a giant Lizard
rock that protruded over the lake and provided unobstructed views of Regulation
Peak (10554 ft.) and the developing crimson sunset. Midway through their consumption of the
high-octane margaritas, O’Man and Rick wondered aloud as to the fate of the
Lone Lizard. Did he get an updated
weather forecast and decide not to even make the long drive from San Diego to
Twin Lakes? Given today’s inclement
weather, did he begin his hike to Peeler Lake or decide to stay in a warm motel
equipped with spa and a Swedish masseuse?
If he did start on the trail, did he make it to Peeler Lake? Did he bring a tent? And most important of all, did he bring that
extra bottle of spirits? The Lizards
would learn later that YES, the Lone Lizard did make it to Peeler Lake that day
with that extra bottle of joy.
Friday – October 5th: Rodgers Lake to Benson Lake (5 miles)
As the Lizards stumbled out
of their tent, they were greeted with a sparkling snowscape lit up by the
morning sun sitting in a crystal blue sky.
Since their intended destination for the day, Benson Lake, was a mere 5
miles away, Rick and O’Man spent a leisurely morning drying clothes and gear
while praising the Great Guana for keeping the snow accumulation under a few
inches.
Although the day’s itinerary
involved the shortest distance of the entire hike, it consisted of 1400 feet of
climbing and 2800 feet of decent on steep, poorly maintained trails– not a
pretty prospect for O’Man’s nearly 55-year old bruised and battered knees. For Rick, the triathelete, it was just another
stroll in the park.
The two Lizards managed to
quickly climb to the flat open trail summit of Rodgers Pass and this time
around, with clear skies overhead, they took the time to inhale the
incomparable splendor of Rodgers Lake 288 feet below with Regulation Peak
dominating the skyline. The Lizards were
reluctant to depart such a magical place, but they wanted to be sure to make
camp at Benson Lake in time to greet the Lone Lizard, who would probably be
tired and hungry after traveling over 11 miles from Peeler Lake.
A short while later, the
Lizards were back on the PCT on a northbound track for Benson Lake. Within a third of a mile, Rick and O’Man
encountered another trail junction. The
junction featured a funky rusty and crusty trail marker from the dawn of time
with the inscription: Pleasant Valley –
9.6 miles, Pate Valley – 11.4 miles, Tuolumne Meadows – 32.4 miles, Hetch
Hetchy – 26.7 miles, and Yosemite Valley – 34.5 miles. The Lizards now knew their location in the
galaxy and they like it!
The nearly 2100 foot decent
down to Benson Lake from the trail junction was as treacherous and bone jarring
steep as advertised. The pain was worth it though when Benson Lake came into
view – it filled the entire horizon with deep blue water encircled by snow
capped peaks and domes. Adding to the
grander was perhaps the longest sandy beach in the Sierra, very much like the
beach at Tenaya Lake. At 7581 feet,
Benson Lake offered the promise of a relatively pleasant Sierra swim except for
one minor detail – the gigantic white caps!
The wind was howling and a foreboding black sky was engulfing the
surrounding domes as the Lizards scoured the length and breadth of the
northeastern shoreline for a suitable camp.
Foregoing the more exposed lakefront camps, the Lizards settled into a
sheltered site near the lake’s outlet creek and without further ado pitched the
tent and gathered vast quantities of readily available firewood. When the storm appeared to stall, the Lizards
partaked in a more leisurely tour of Benson’s shoreline and engaged in a game
of “dodge the horse turpis,”
and lost miserably.
Anticipating the arrival of
the Lone Lizard, Rick constructed an imposing sign in the middle of the trail
pointing to the Lizards’ camp.
Meanwhile, O’Man returned to camp and started a pot of hearty soup. Shortly thereafter, small hybrid pellets of
snow and ice began to fall. O’Man and
Rick took cover under some trees to sip the soup and once again speculate as to
the whereabouts of the Lone Lizard.
There was no sign of him anywhere or for that matter any other reptile
or homo sapien for the past four days. Maybe he never made it to Peeler Lake or if
he did, he decided not to make the 11+ mile trek to Benson just to turn around
the next day and do the trip in reverse.
O’Man recalled something the Lone Lizard mentioned at the Bon Voyage
Party on Sunday night: depending on the weather and/or his state of inebriation
at the time, he might remain at Peeler Lake and erect some edifices in honor of
the Lizards, similar to the time he broke his ski on the Lizards’ January 1983
snow-camp in Sequoia National Park.
During that trip, the Lone Lizard constructed an elaborate menagerie of
reptilian ice sculptures while O’Man, Mr. Jones, and the Grand Imperial went on
a blithering tequila and mushroom induced day ski.
(Editor’s Comment:
The Lone Lizard would claim later that he never remembered having such a
conversation with O’Man at the Bon Voyage Party. That should not surprise anyone who knows The
Lone Lizard.)
With the arrival of larger
and more frequent hybrid pellets, the Lizards scampered into their tent for
some Captain Morgan’s and a reading from Murders In Las Vegas, which ironically
consisted of a bunch of short-stories with only the first one having to do with
murder. The Lizards were disappointed by
the lack of violence! More rum was
ordered and consumed!
By the time cocktail hour had
concluded, the rat-a-tat-tat on the tent shell had ceased and the Lizards
staggered out of the tent to find a landscape made entirely of white
pellets. Dinner was cooked and a blazing
fire started under intermittent snow showers.
While the cleaning water was heating, the Lizards ventured to the lakeshore
where they confirmed that the fire would provide a powerful beacon to guide the
Lone Lizard to their camp. They then
screamed “Lizard” at the top of their lungs, but the only reply they heard was
their own faint echo. What the Lizards
did not know and, as it turns out, the Lone Lizard himself did not know, was
that at that very moment he was camped about a mile and a-half above Benson
Lake! Without the aide of his reading
glasses, which he had lost at a store on the drive to Twin Lakes, the Lone
Lizard was hampered in his ability to determine his position on the map in relationship
to Benson Lake in the dim light of the stormy late afternoon sky. When the storm intensified, he decided to
bivwack for the night rather than continue what he thought was still a very
long decent to Benson Lake.
(Editor’s Comment: Anyone who has traveled with the
Lone Lizard in the backcountry will attest that even with the bright light of
the midday sun, 20/20 visual acuity and a GPS, the Lone Lizard cannot figure
out where the hell he is on a map.)
Rick and O’Man learned later
that what sealed the decision in the befuddled Lone Lizard’s mind to not
venture any further down into the hole that held Benson Lake was his convection
that Rick and O’Man had not yet made it to the lake. Not remembering, or more likely not ever
processing in the first place, what was said at the Bon Voyage Party about how
Rick and O’Man would be doing a 50 mile LOOP and that he would be hiking in the
OPPOSITE DIRECTION to meet them at Benson Lake; the Lone Lizard thought Rick
and O’Man would be approaching Benson Lake from the same direction and trail he
had traveled (i.e., they would be coming from Crown Lake via the Rock Island
Pass trail, join his trail from Peeler Lake at Kerrick Meadow and then head
south like he did). Since he had not
seen any footprints on the snow covered trail from the previous day’s storm, he
figured Rick and O’Man had not yet made it to Benson Lake. Of course, Rick and O’Man (AS PLANNED) had
reached Benson Lake via Benson Pass and traveling north on the PCT, not south
like the Lone Lizard had imagined in his delirious mental state. In hindsight, the only explanation O’Man
could come up with to explain the Lone Lizard’s Swiss cheese reasoning was that
the vacuum left by not remembering or processing the plan for the current trip
was unwittingly replaced by his memory of the Lizards’ 1988 Fall Classic, in
which he and the rest of the Lizards did cross over Rock Island Pass from Crown
Lake and then joined the trail at Kerrick Meadow before heading toward Peeler
Lake.
Saturday – October 6th: Benson Lake to Peeler Lake (11.4 miles)
Despite staying up way past
their usual 8:00 sack time to enjoy the only campfire of the trip and another
round of Captain Morgan’s under a nearly full moon, the Lizards awoke early
Saturday morning knowing that they had to pack an icy tent, travel more than 11
miles and gain 2700 total feet before reaching Peeler Lake and what they
expected to be a wild night of celebrating with the Lone Lizard.
Even polypropylene tops and
gloved hands did not comfort the shivering Lizards as they traversed the
half-mile spur trail from Benson Lake back to the PCT. Once on the PCT, the Lizards headed north and
began a 1900-foot climb to Seavey Pass.
To distract himself from worrying about an impending severe case of
frostbite, O’Man’s mind drifted back to the ironic turn of events that befell
the members of the 1990 expedition:
“Can you believe this?” chuckled O’Man,
“last night we came face to face with the Grim Reaper and now look at us. We are staying in a hotel which is hosting an
all girls’ high school championship volleyball team, sipping complementary
champagne, and getting ready to slither downstairs to the pool size indoor
spa.” Legal Lizard Bobby and O’Man were so content that they never did join the
other two Lizards that night on their first foray into the local nightclub
scene where they had close encounters with vampire women while listening to the
rock-group Passion. To let you know just
how bad things did get, the next day O’Man had a very difficult time rustling
the Lizards from their warm beds and convincing them to go on a 5 mile day hike
to Devil’s Postpile and spectacular Rainbow Falls. And to make matters worse,
during the hike the Lizards encountered some weary wood nymphs, who managed to
escape their clutches with a quick cadence.
Under blue skies, the Lizards did get lost on the well-trodden trail for
old times sake, but were quickly rescued by the alert wood nymphs. More booze,
more spa, and more “Passion” ensued before retreating home to the ULTIMATE
TEST: Trying to explain to suspicious
spouses, girlfriends, and fellow Lizards why they were clean shaven,
non-odorous, and content.
O’Man’s
daydream was rudely interrupted by the call of Lizard Rick – “Hey, look at
this.” Rick was pointing to a set of
footprints in virgin snow that were heading up the trail – and they weren’t
his! Rick said he first encountered the
tracks (and what looked like a makeshift camp) along the PCT about 30 minutes
from the trail junction to Benson Lake.
In other words, whoever it was had stopped within 45 minutes (about 1.5
miles) of Benson Lake. Up to that point, the only tracks on the snow-covered
trail had been those of Rick and O’Man.
Given just one set of tracks heading up the trail on top of fresh snow
dumped by yesterday’s storm, which did not end until well after dark; the
Lizards concluded that whoever it was, he or she was traveling alone and had
started hiking earlier that morning.
Rick immediately speculated that the tracks belonged to the Lone
Lizard. Although the boot prints were
rather large, O’Man wanted to desperately believe they were those of a
wandering wood nymph and, in any case, he had his doubts that they were left by
the Lone Lizard. “Why would the Lone
Lizard hike almost 10 miles from Peeler Lake and then stop less than 45 minutes
from Benson Lake with the prospect of a warm fire and Captain Morgan’s waiting
for him? And if it really was the Lone
Lizard, why didn’t he just wait on the side of the trail for us to come by and
then join them for the hike back to Peeler Lake?” “Yes” Rick replied, “Your logic would make
perfect sense if we were talking about anyone else other than the Lone Lizard!”
The two
Lizards continued to ponder the tracks of the unknown hiker while negotiating
slippery ice on the north facing sections of the trail as it spiraled up
through a winter wonderland toward Seavey Pass.
As the trail neared the pass, the Lizards found themselves wandering a
rollercoaster path in a Sierra postcard – passing by emerald lakelets that were
surrounded by snow flocked trees and cheerful chirping birds darting from limb
to limb.
Despite deep
blue skies populated with enormous white fluffy clouds, Seavey Pass (9460 ft.)
offered limited vistas. Shortly after
the pass, the Lizards plunged into Kerrick Canyon with its towering granite
walls and domes. Near the junction where
the PCT heads due west and the trail to Peeler Lake continues to wind through
Kerrick Canyon, the Lizards made another astonishing discovery – the mystery
boot prints were joined by another set of tracks – those of the bear
variety! Was the lone hiker being
stalked by a wild beast or was it the other way around? 300 yards later the Lizards got their answer
- the human tracks marched on while the bear prints disappeared. The Lizards
surmised that the bear lost interest and wandered off to pursue more
interesting prey.
The almost
level hike through Kerrick Canyon and the ensuing vast meadows was made all the
more pleasant by refreshing cool breezes and mountain shadow dances. Although the Lizards traveled at a brisk
pace, they were unable to overtake the mystery hiker by the time their rumbling
bellies demanded a feeding. They stopped
for a delightful lunch along Rancheria Creek behind wind protecting
boulders. Rick and O'Man would come to
find out later that the unknown hiker was about 2 hours ahead of them on the
trail.
It was about
4:00 PM when the Lizards reached the trail junction to Peeler Lake, where they
consumed an energy bar to help propel them the final 1.2 miles to the lake and
what they hoped would be an encounter with a grinning lizard holding a bottle
of hooch.
As Rick and
O’Man approached Peeler Lake, they shouted rounds of “Lizard” in hopes of
triggering a reciprocal response. Unfortunately, the only reply was the cry of
the wind producing white caps on the churning lake. “I don’t see evidence that anyone, much less
the Lone Lizard, is anywhere in the vicinity” proclaimed O’Man. Rick wasn’t convinced, so he continued on the
trail as it traveled along the north shore of the lake and up out of the
bowl. By the time Rick returned to the
only camping zone near the lake, O’Man had scoured the area in vain for any
message or sign the Lone Lizard might have left to indicate that he had made it
to Peeler Lake and even more importantly - the location of the stashed extra
bottle of hooch that the Lizards were counting on for their last night’s
celebration. At that point, O’Man was
convinced more than ever that the Lone Lizard never embarked on the trip due to
the bleak weather forecasts and that the footprints the Lizards had followed
for most of that day were not those of the Lone Lizard - because whoever it was
continued hiking right past Peeler Lake – something the Lone Lizard would be
unlikely to do since: (1) It would mean hiking about 17 miles that day to reach
the trail head; and (2) The Lone Lizard said that if all else failed, he would
be at Peeler Lake Saturday to host the last night’s celebration.
And then it
happened - Rick and O’Man were cooking dinner when all of a sudden they could
hardly believe their eyes and ears – traveling along the main trail above the
lake, there was a fully constituted human – the first since the Lizards had
started their journey 5 days earlier.
Unfortunately, it was not the Lone Lizard! Instead, it turned out to be two backpackers
moving very rapidly, having probably been frightened by what they saw
below. To the trail weary eyes of Rick
and O’Man, the two hikers appeared to be female – but the reptiles did not have
the energy to confirm their vision.
Rick and
O’Man’s disappointment about not meeting up with the Lone Lizard, not finding a
stashed bottle of spirits, and lacking the energy to corral the two through
hikers, evaporated when they found themselves engulfed in a kaleidoscope of
colors created by a sunset that seemed to span several light years. Atop a giant rock with a 380 degree view, the
Lizards killed the last few ounces of Captain Morgan’s and made a final toast: “Damn it – we should have brought that extra
bottle gin!”
Very Early
Sunday Morning – October 7th:
Peeler Lake to Twin Lakes (7.7 miles)
In the
frigid pre-dawn light of a full moon, the fully clad Lizards’ old bodies
creaked and cracked as they wobbled their way out of the bench that held Peeler
Lake and proceeded 7.7 miles down to Twin Lakes. Except for a couple of breaks to shed layers
of clothing, Rick and O’Man’s only rest stop was at Barney Lake, which in the
still of the early morning light had been transformed into an immense mirror
reflecting the towering Sierra skyline.
The usual
assortment of overly clothed day hikers and ill-equipped novice backpackers
greeted the two Lizards as they neared their destination. While Rick made one final deposit at the Twin
Lakes restroom, O’Man proceeded to the car whereupon he spotted a small plastic
bag pinned under the front windshield wiper.
His first thought was that it was a nasty notice informing him that he
owed an additional parking fee. As he
removed the note from the bag, O’Man immediately recognized the unmistaken hand
of the Lone Lizard. Although it was
before 9:00 AM, O’Man decided he better have a cold one in hand and be sitting
down before he read the message. By the time Rick arrived at the car, O’Man had
read the Lone Lizard’s incredible misadventures twice. O’Man immediately handed Rick a beer along
with the communiqué and then digitally recorded his dumbfounded expression for
posterity. The message confirmed Rick’s
initial suspicion that the footprints in the snow were indeed those of the Lone
Lizard. It further described how the
Lone Lizard hiked all day Saturday and continued past Peeler Lake to arrive at
Twin Lakes by early evening. Absent from
the confession was WHY?
The first
call Rick and O’Man made when they came into cell phone coverage on 395 was not
to their beloved spouses, but to, you guessed it, the Lone Lizard. They just had to know more details of his
amazing miscalculations. They made initial
voice contact with the Lone Lizard while he too was traveling along highway
395, about two hours ahead of them.
Turns out he stayed in a trailer Saturday night and watched the Padres
win a playoff game. Rick and O’Man
learned that in the THC marinated brain of the Lone Lizard, the decision to
hike all the way to Twin Lakes on Saturday made perfect sense - there was no
sign of them on the trail or at Peeler Lake and so he decided to hike out to a
warm bed rather then spend another cold night in the Sierra. Poor reception resulted in several “dropped”
calls and incomplete answers to Rick and O’Man’s more pressing questions. Before losing all contact, the three Lizards
managed to confirm plans to gather spouses, offspring, fellow Lizards, and
anyone at the NSA who was monitoring their cell phone activity to meet for
dinner in San Diego and complete the inquisition.
Ironically,
it was Rick and O’Man who almost failed to show for the Sunday night gathering
having encountered a monstrous traffic jam south of Bishop caused by a horrific
car crash. The Lone Lizard managed to
escape the destruction and would later assert that he may have instigated the
incident. Thanks to Rick setting a new
land speed record for a six cylinder 4-Runner, they found themselves by 7:00
P.M. showered and in a secret Mexican restaurant face-to-face with the full
embodiment of the Lone Lizard - exactly one week, 907 road miles, and 55 trail
miles later. Like antique bookends to a grand madcap Lizard adventure, the
three old Lizards were united at last!!
Mas Margaritas por
favor!!
(Editor’s Comment: Mrs. O’Man wants it documented in the Lizard
annals that it took Mr. O’Man longer to compose this description of the trip
than the time it took him to do the actual hike and therefore it should count
for one of the 3 Lizard trips he is allocated per year.)