The Ride of the Midnight Cowboys - Redux¶
August 16, 2024
My summer job in high school was at Pico Blanco Scout Reservation, the Boy Scout camp in Big Sur, California. I worked there for three summers teaching basic outdoors skills. There is a lot to be said about Pico, but much of it would be common to anyone who has worked at a scout camp.
Instead, this passage is about climbing a nearby mountain–Mount Pico Blanco, the namesake of the camp–entirely after dark. It is also a reflection on memory and how repetition and photographs affect memory. This was a formative experience for me. However, I have no photographs of it (it was 2011 and in the dark), and I only did it once. It has been an interesting exercise to see how much of it I recall with nothing to jog my memory.
We would lead a hike for scouts up Mt. Pico every week. It would start at 4 PM on Wednesday, and we would get to the top around sunset, spend the night, and come back in time for breakfast. It was around 3.5 miles but very steep. The route went from the main camp at 900’ up another 1000’ to a ridge. Then it went along the ridge for a few hundred yards before dipping down into a canyon. In the canyon, the trail went along through a typical steep section with bay laurels and madrones that was difficult passage due to a recent fire. Then it crossed the bottom of bottom of the canyon in an area with a small redwood grove before climbing up the other side and going through a brushy area. Before reaching the bottom of the canyon again (where there is a public backcountry campground), the trail reached a flat area we called “Tick Meadows” for obvious reasons. At Tick Meadows, we would leave the trail and head straight up the side of Mt. Pico to the top. The return route just retraced the steps.
I have a number of memories of this from the many times I did it while leading hikes: nice sunsets over fog, scouts being very tired, one time a rattlesnake, bedding down either at the top or at a flat spot where an old mining road ended, looking along the summit ridge, etc. It has been pleasant to think back on the weekly hikes. I have many clear, almost photographic memories of them, even though I have no actual photographs, which contrasts with the midnight hike I am about to describe. The difference, I suppose, is that I only did the midnight hike once and repetition reinforces memory.
The actual “Ride of the Midnight Cowboys - Redux” was on a Saturday night, the only night of the week with only staff in camp. It had been done once before that I know of, though no-one from the first time was along when I did it. The first group came up with the name, hence the “Redux” in the title. The goal was to leave after sunset, climb Mt. Pico, and come back before sunrise.
I do not remember who said we should do it. It may have been Tim, who worked in aquatics. I remember that he wanted to get out of camp on a hike because aquatics staff were stuck at the lake all week. Other than Tim and I, Tanner and one other person went along. Tanner worked with me in the nature lodge that summer and ended up having long tenure in Pico (he was there when I went back for a visit five or six years later). The remaining person may have been Tanner’s older brother, Hunter, but I do not remember clearly.
I am getting to the meat of story, but the interesting thing is that I do not remember much. I remember:
walking along the ridge above Tick Meadows with flashlights. There was a fallen tree on the meadow-side of the ridge (a madrone that had fallen in the ‘08 fires) that was difficult to get around even in daylight.
walking up to the summit dome in the moonlight. The moon was near-full and, with the white marble on the summit, it was very bright. We did not need flashlights. It was cold, but I was wearing long pants, a staff fleece jacket, and my rain jacket, so I felt warm. My memory of the clothing and the temperature is especially distinct. I can still feel the cold on my face while my core was warm if I think back on it. I also remember having a nice pair of boots for the hike. Tanner was similarly well-equipped, but Tim was up there with a T-shirt and running shoes. There are two specific images from this that stick into my mind: others standing on the summit dome looking south and a close-up of eroded marble glowing in the moonlight.
taking a shower after getting back at 4 AM. I remember being in the shower in the dark (a photographic memory with details of the sink, shower, and the pattern of shadows) and being pleased at how much hot water there was. During the day, there was never enough hot water to go around.
As mentioned earlier, this was a formative experience for me. I gained a great deal of self-confidence and look back on it fondly. Yet, I remember few details. A similar but repetitive experience stays much more strongly in my mind. I also wonder if I would remember it better with photographs or if photographs force a certain perspective. For other trips that I do have photographs from, much of what I remember is dictated by the photographs.
