1987 | Pat White near Alcoholic Pass, Anza-Borrego
I was intrigued by the mark for this place on the map, named perhaps by prospectors at a high point on a much older Native trail between Coyote Canyon and Clark Valley. It was said to be so narrow at its saddle that travelers had to unpack their mules to work their way through.
Pat White and I had started up one of the broad washes from the east and didn’t see any notches ahead of us, so we veered north and climbed a rocky ridge to get our bearings. From there, we could look directly down at our goal; the tight little canyon wriggled just enough to be invisible from our earlier vantage points. Only from above could we locate our “ground truth.”
It was one of those ideal old camps, above the heat of the flats on either side, exposed to cooler breezes, and offering shelter among large interlocked boulders.