Trip Date: May 26, 2020
Find this SpotIt hadn’t been too long since our friend Jeff Hunts had passed away and the family did not do a ceremony, at least not that I heard about. Ken wanted to do something for him and so it was decided we should head up to Monitor to celebrate his life and our small part of it. Jeff came on a few of our trips. I remember the “Dad’s and Kids” trip near Capps Crossing years ago when the kids were little. I believe he brought his brother on that trip. He came to the snow cabin trip up Loon Lake and brought a small keg of the beer he made. He came to Terry and my birthday trip nearby here. He was a main character of the epic End of the World trip, and most recently he came to Tom’s retirement trip at Pinnacles.
He was also on another great trip up here at the Saddle on Monitor Pass. I don’t remember if it was the trip I brought the keg up, but it was one of those early trips where we had a crew and partied and carried on around big fires. On that trip we is most remembered when we all were sitting up on top of a rock outcropping having cocktails and getting high. We were all perched on top of pointy rock precipices when all of a sudden Jeff just disappeared from his perch. We were all astounded.
It took us a moment to maneuver enough to turn around and look down off the backside of the rock column we were upon, to see Jeff crumbled in a heap down below. He had simply lost his balance and tumbled over backwards, not making a sound until he crashed to the earth with a thud. It had to realistically been 6 feet to the bottom, but the bottom was more rock, not a leafy vegetative mass that could possibly make for a softish landing. Nope, just more rock. In our condition, we did the best we could to see if he was OK and to make sure no serious injury had occurred. Then we fell about the place in hysterical laughter.
We have camped at Monitor many times, but with few exceptions, almost always at the Aspen Grove. Since this trip was really to honor Jeff, we wanted to return to the Saddle, but it had be4en many years since we last camped up there. I had been back a couple times, once bringing Mike and Edna up on a trip somewhere. Bob and Marya had driven up within a few years, and he found the road to be in pretty good shape. However, in the past it has been a rough road and often blocked by fallen aspen. Also, not everyone has 4 or all-wheel drive, so that sometimes limits our ability to get in to certain spots. I was determined to do our best to get up there.
I picked up Ken at his place and we headed up highway 50. We were told that Mormon Emigrant was still closed due to the fire damage and were gabbing so intently we didn’t even look at the signage as we blew past Pollock Pines. We had to stop at a few spots along 50 where they were doing clean-up and construction, but none of the stops were very long and we made decent time into Myers. We had made plans to meet Bill and Bob Horowitz along the side of the road and they both appeared shortly after we did. Unfortunately, Kenny was off on a walk so we had to wait for the madman to return.
We rolled through Markleeville and were up on the pass in no time. Neither Bill nor Bob had been to the Saddle, so we slowed to a crawl to make sure they were right behind us before taking the inconspicuous turn off. We crawled up the road through the Aspen without incident and were pleased to find the spot to green and clean and unoccupied. There appeared to be a lot more sage and vegetation, but no more trees. The view of Slinkard and lower Carson Valley was better then I recalled. The lone Juniper had gotten quite a bit broader, so shade would be provided. We set up the kitchen against the Juniper and got to unloading.
I was only staying 1 night so I laid out my sleeping bag in the bed of the truck, as did Kevin, but in the bed of his truck, not mine. Ken made some sammiches and Tom rolled up just in time to partake. We were 6 guys in 5 rigs; not ideal for emission control, but hey, whatever it takes to get together at this point. Bob was coming from his place in Tahoe; Tom came up from SLO; I guess Kevin, Ken and I could have driven up together, but I wanted to get an early start just staying the one night and Kevin wasn’t going to be able to make it up until a little later. And later it was.
I was getting antsy so I asked the boys if they wanted to drive up this road I saw on Googly to get up above the Saddle. Ken decided to stay behind to wait for Kevin and Mr. Leaon. We packed into the Tundra and off we went. I showed them the spot where Steve, Ken, Bob H and I camped way back when, when I forgot the sleeping bag for Kenny and we snuggled in the cab of the F-350. We got up before dawn freezing cold as it had snowed and we walked out of camp to end up at the Saddle. It was a historic event.
From there, the road climbed a very steep hill. I put it in 4-wheel drive and we began to climb. I could barely see over the hood and Bill was kind of hanging out the window to get a better look at terra firma. Luckily he saw the giant crater in the road that was mostly on his side. I stopped on the edge before easing down into it but couldn’t get a grip on the steep slope to try to give it a go. I put it in neutral to roll back to the bottom of the incline where I put it in 4 low, one of the every few times I have ever done that. Up we crawled, and with a better sense of where the hole was, we skirted the worst of it and leveled off up top with a sigh of relief.
Up top, the road curved around to the East such that, were it not for the trees, we could darn near look down upon camp. The views were glorious from up here and we set about the have a celebratory beverage and enjoy the scenery. We lingered for a while checking out this side and that, before heading back down. The descent was much easier. Back at camp, Mike and Kevin had arrived and there was much rejoicing. It was perilously close to cocktail and we dare not delay so delay we did not! Tommy of course had a carafe of Manhattan’s and though I do not recall all the details, I believe once consumed, more whiskey appeared.
Kevin and I thrashed through the brush to scramble upon the rock outcropping that we had all partied on years ago with Jeff. It was very cool to be up there again, and just as cool to look down upon the boys still in camp enjoying themselves and their tomfoolery. I stayed upon the rock out-cropping a spell, and then thrashed through the brush the best I could. However, being in shorts and sandals, some damage had occurred, I had to since of the blood as best I could before going to bed so as not to be all sticky. It was a great sojourn
I had defrosted a package of piggy product from the roast and warmed it up in the cast iron. Bill brought up some delicious beans. Salads and sides appeared and we had a delicious feast. It was cool enough to have a fire, but not cold, and totally calm. A sliver of light blue lingered on the horizon long after dark. The talk turned to politics as it sometimes is apt to do, so I ambled off to the truck and hurled myself into the bed, not able to get into my bag until some distant semiconscious point in the night. I think the stars were extraordinary.
I awoke in decent shape, much to my liking to continue avoiding any type of hangover. I was mystified, but pleased. It was cold, so the fire was resurrected and breakfast was born. The sun was much celebrated. Before long, Bob was packing up to head out. Kevin and I were also leaving but not until later in the day. We decided to take a hike and ended up just recreating the drive form yesterday to show Kenny the view. Bob returned to get a chair or something he forgot, then disappeared through the aspen again, this time for good.
The steep hike up the road was brutal, but thankfully short. Lots of stops and huffing and puffing later, we arose out of the trees and into the wide open sage of the top of the hill. It really was beautiful up top, and surprisingly interesting walking it despite having just been on this route the day before. It was fun to recreate our journey and share it with Ken and notice a few more details being on the ground. Upon reaching our hang out spot from yesterday, a celebration ensued. After a bit, Kevin and I decided to cross country back to cam, hoping to come down upon it from the one ridge that rose above it on the West side.
We headed North around an intense stand of Mountain Mahogany that we did not want to tangle with, then curved back to the South on the other side of the Mahogany. We picked and poked our way, really enjoying not being on a road or path, but just making our own way. We picked our way down a pretty steep rock formation and came upon a sweet flat open spot that would have made a great cabin site with views of Slinkard and Sonora Pass. We hung for a bit before clambering down to another flat, which turned out to be exactly where we wanted to come out above camp. We called down to Mike in camp to announce our proximity.
Upon our arrival in camp, Mike greeted us with a pitcher of cold Mojitos he had prepared for the event. It was an extraordinarily triumphant return. We arranged our chairs to catch some shade from the lone Juniper while also taking advantage of the views of Slinkard, Sonora Pass, while also not looking into the sun. It was heavenly. Eventually the boys returned just in time to drain the last of the pitcher. Kevin became outraged and left. Fortunately, Tommy had come prepared as any Boy Scout could be, not with knee pads, furry gloves and a bib, but with a pitcher of heavily medicated Margaritas. This was the life.
We were soon listening to great tunes, laughing, and giddy with the foolishness of it all. Feeling no pain, Mike was playing along on his guitar and sounding better than he ever had before. His practicing is paying handsomely for us. I could have melted away the rest of the afternoon with these guys, who clearly were set up for a very fine evening, but I had to get going. I rounded up the last of the goods and headed on down the road. I was bummed to be leaving the lads, but IO knew I must. Mike told us he had come up Mormon Emigrant Pass, so I headed that way. It was quite disturbing to see the fire damage to so much familiar country, but I guess I should not have been so surprised. It is the dawning of the age of Aquarius, whatever that means.
Monitor Pass at the Saddle; In Memory of Jeff and Bob Photo Gallery
