The Boy’s Fault
Noel Laflin
9-22-15
We were
lost.
And just to
prove it, we stumbled about the damn mountain for three hours trying in vain to
find the right trail that would take us to the tram, which would bring us to my
truck, and eventually home.
We finally
did find that elusive trail, albeit the hard way, so there is a happy ending
here. I thought I should tell you that
right off, just in case you are prone to anxiety. But let me tell you how we nearly spent the
evening of July 4th, 1998, atop Mt. San Jacinto.
It was the
fault of El Nino – The Boy.
The
relentless rains of 1998, brought about by El Nino, had also brought unprecedented amounts of snow to the
Southland that year. It was so thick in
local mountains that it had the audacity to actually stick around well into the
summer months.
Case in
point: Even after my good friend, Larry, and I left the scorching heat of Palm
Springs at a sweltering 115 degrees, and rode the aerial tram up to the kickoff
point at Long Valley, and trudged another six miles up the mountain, what was
to greet us way up there near the peak?
Well, snow
of course – even on the Fourth of July.
So there we
were, dressed in tee-shirts and shorts and crunching thru shaded paths covered
in white, while two miles below, the Coachella Valley shimmered and radiated in
triple digits.
Despite this
unexpected development we made our way to the peak, and took in the magnificent
view some 10,834 feet below.
There were
few others up there that day, which may also help explain how we ended up lost
just a short time later. You see,
getting to the rocky peak was fairly easy as it was visible from the
trail. Looking back down, however, much
of that trail was hidden by tall ponderosas or covered in a cool, blinding whiteness
that seemed in no great hurry to melt.
So, when it was time to head back, we could make neither heads nor tails
as to where the trail was exactly.
Then we saw
a young fellow leapfrogging down the rocks, striding confidently into the
woods. There’s our ticket out of here,
we thought. We followed the boy.
It turns out
that this kid was heading elsewhere. By
the time we realized our error, once he’d disappeared around a bend a short
time later, we were off the trail and disoriented altogether.
Thus we had
yet another boy, and a real one at that, to blame for our own damn foolishness.
Now, I had
done this hike four times over the years and felt confident that if we just
backtracked a bit, we’d be all right.
But that did little good as everything looked pretty much the same –
there were tall trees, giant rocks, and icy berms in every direction. We could not even spot our own recent tracks.
But with the
help of Larry’s compass and a fortunate spotting of the Mt. Palomar Observatory
glinting in the late day sun some forty miles away, we had a pretty good idea
as to which way our peak lay, even hidden as it was to us from our present
location.
And so we
trudged on for the next three hours - scaling icy berm after berm, wading
through thorny buck brush - all the while gaining in elevation.
We
eventually found and climbed San Jacinto’s peak once again – from the opposite
side this time - and took in the magnificent view in déjà vu fashion. I never thought that climbing the summit from
that direction was even possible. Well, I
am here to tell you, it is.
Hearing
voices carrying on not far below us, we made a beeline for civilization via the
crowd and the right trail this time.
We made it
to the tram station by seven and to my truck a half hour later.
We drove
westward bloodied, bruised and mighty hungry.
Fireworks across three counties lit the pathway home. We made a drive thru stop at a McDonalds close
to the house. By the time we parked in
the driveway and opened the doors to the truck we found that our legs had
cramped considerably. The two of us had taken on
the appearance of senior citizens having a bad arthritic day as we limped into
the garage clutching our burgers and fries.
I have not
attempted the hike in seventeen years. Every time I thought about it, Larry would send me an article about some guy or couple who got lost upon that mountain and stayed lost for a considerable amount of time - some permanently.
But with the
prospect of a record breaking new El Nino on its way for this winter, I
suddenly have the urge to tempt fate once again.
But if I do,
I’m first investing in a GPS device.