"Y" MOUNTAIN BOY - SNAKE EYES and A WILD MAN

        It took about a week to get over the cave in experience and regain my desire to explore. Now it was time to check out Y Mountain’s north side. At the base of Y Mountain was a trail leading over to Rock Canyon.

Francis age 10.

        I would start north of the orange cliffs and work my way toward the canyon. It was a quick hike through the foothills to reach the base of the mountain. My first rest stop was in the cool shade of the Easter Cross. Some early settlers had built a large cross made of rock and cement on the hillside. It was about 14 feet high with about a three foot diameter. It had been built to stay put for a long time, a great destination for Easter egg hunts and cracking eggs. Today the hillside is covered with homes, but back then hardly a home could be found.

        All rested up I moved upward, looking for the elusive trail. It turned out to be exactly where the steep mountainside joined the rolling hills. Now let's see what lies ahead! Not much of interest so far. A rotted out carcass of a dead deer. A little fur and a few bleached bones were all that was left. Wild animals had run off with most of the skeleton. Now and then a lizard or a chipmunk would dash for cover.

Cliffs on north side of "Y" Mountain foothills.

        Things were getting a little boring. No large cliffs or tunnels, only a small stand of gray rock about 25 feet high on the steep mountain side. I had recovered from my cliff climbing trauma and examined the gray rock face carefully. Plenty of hand and foot holds, it would be a fun challenge with a low danger level. If I did get in trouble, it was low enough I could jump to the bottom.

        I began the climb, working my way upward, making slight adjustments to the right and left as needed. The top ledge was getting closer and closer. It had a solid lip where I could pull myself up. Inching my way upward with both hands on the ledge, I hoped there would be enough room at the top to rest before starting down. As my eyes cleared the last obstacle, a scream caught in my throat. My heart beat wildly. There, only inches away was a rattle snake sunning itself on the warm rocks! We were almost eyeball to eyeball, locked in a hypnotic stare.

Western Diamond Back coiling, ready to strike.

        The snake was as shocked to see me as I was to see it! Suddenly it moved, coiling faster than I thought possible, its rattle sending out a frightful warning. No time to think or analyze my situation. My head and hands shot below the cliff’s edge in a split second. A rattle snake bite here could be deadly. I scrambled down the rock face as quickly as possible, jumping the last 10 feet, landing and rolling to the trail. It was the first rattle snake I had ever seen and that was enough for me! The snake could have that spot, I thought anxiously to myself as I hustled down the trail, putting greater distance between me and the snake. I had been face to face  with death and survived!

        As I made my way along, the trail began to fade where it entered a section of the mountain covered with thick scrub oak. Here the trees formed a tunnel with branches that poked and scratched. Working my way through the oak maze I started hearing weird sounds -- limbs cracking, grunting and moaning noises. Something large was making its way through the low hanging trees. The sounds grew closer and louder. Was it a hungry bear or a cougar? I popped the snap on my hatchet and swiftly removed it from the scabbard.

Old Hermit

       Just then, bursting through the trees, a large creature leaped onto the trail. Not a bear, not a cougar, but a Wildman with long hair and beard, small twigs protruding from both. His clothes were torn, and

threatening grunts and shrieks filled the air. His beady eyes focused for a moment on me and my hatchet. With a grunt he was off crashing through the oak brush down the mountainside. Then silence. He was gone. Where he went and who he was, remained a mystery. It was time for Mountain Boy to head for home. He'd had enough adventure for one day!

        A few years later I related this story to my friend who lived in one of the few homes on the mountain side. “Oh, that was most likely my Uncle. He was kind of crazy and would escape to the mountains now and then. He was harmless, and it was easier to let him wander around than keep him locked up.”

        Well, my friend's crazy uncle scared the devil out of a little boy looking for adventure!