THE ULTIMATE BIG YO - The Search for the Ultimate Mountain Mama
The video is a first‑person, diarized documentary of Paul Ariel Rip Van Winkle’s 16‑day solo cross‑country trek through the remote northern reaches of Yosemite National Park, dubbed the “Big Yo.” Guided by a cryptic encounter with a Yoda‑like sage who tells him to seek the “ultimate mountain mama,” Rip Van embarks on an arduous route that takes him past Lake Ruth, Tower Peak, Tilden Canyon, Carrick Canyon, Rock Island Lake, Indian Steps, and numerous unnamed passes and nodes. Throughout the journey he battles snow, mosquitoes, fatigue, and moments of self‑doubt while reflecting on past relationships, personal loss, and his own identity. He intersperses the narrative with sung verses, whimsical monologues, and occasional dialogues with other hikers. The trek culminates in a brief on‑camera meeting with Alessia, an Italian woman who declares herself the ultimate mountain mama, providing a bittersweet resolution to the mythic quest. The film blends rugged wilderness footage, personal confession, humor, and philosophical musings about nature, spirituality, and the human desire for connection.
Chapters
Early last summer, whilst traipsing about the canyons of northern Yosemite, I had a brief encounter with one of the roving sages of the High Sierra. He was a funny little man with a round Yoda-like face, but he could see the unseen, and I knew his every word was true. He told me that You are on a lonely trail to nowhere. Up there is where you will find her. Up there is where you must go. I've parked my car in Yosemite Valley and have managed to bum a ride over the Sierra crest and north many, many miles to Levitt Meadow. It is there that I've started this major mega-extravatrac, and now I'm heading southward bearing up the West Fork Walker River Canyon towards the northernmost reaches It's been over, over a year since my last such extravatrac. And what a year it's been. My all-time favorite car, my Dodge Colt Vista Wagon, Old Nellie, she, uh, she finally died. And after selling her remains to the nearest junkyard, I decided to take a little trip. What's that? I was a nervous trader with a handful of cash. I bought this pristine Toyota Celica. Um, 3 weeks later it was stolen and gutted for parts. I had to trade my outside sales job for an inside desk job. I rode public transit through what was the wettest winter in my memory, at least. Started drinking beer again, started eating cheese again and ice cream. I fell in love. Never thought I'd do that again. She was— she was this fine, fine, sweet young thing. A lithesome arabesque dervish with these dark, alluring eyes and long, silky hair. Her limbs delicate and petite, but mostly Mostly, she was just aflame with passion, a whirling dervish of desire. My head said, don't, but my heart commanded me to pursue her passionately, to join her in a communion with the gods of love. And commune we did, but it was short-lived. We haven't spoken in months. It's part of the curative process, you know, out of sight, out of mind.
Out of sight and out of mind, absence makes the heart forget your special touch or precious hand. Christina. Christina, out of reach and out of time. Don't know why I want so much your gorgeous hips, your luscious lips. Christina, Christina, holding you I'm safe and warm. And now you're here and now you're gone. I love you just I lost our memory. I blend in with my misery. Christina. Well, I'm out of sorts. It's out of hand. I cannot bear. You're the man, so let me go. I love you. Christina, Christina. Out of sight and out of mind. Absence makes the heart forget your special touch, your precious scent. Christina. Christina. Christina.
So, uh, a couple months ago I'm doing this mini trek up Jackman Canyon. I run into this Yoda-like character, fellow Xtrava trekker, and he had a big round face and funny gaps in his teeth, but his eyes were crystal clear. And so I told him my sad, sad tale of Of woe. And he turned to me and he said, what you need is the ultimate mountain mama. And instantly I knew he was right. So I asked him, where do I find this, this ultimate mountain mama? And he thought for a second and he said, Oh, they're up here. In some ultimate place in the Big Yo. Someplace where ultimate mountain mamas go. And that's when I vowed to extravatrac solo the ultimate Big Yo. Day 2 is just about over. I finally reached Lake Ruth. I'm tired, exhausted, my normal, normal state. That's why, you know, I don't feel like filming or talking or really doing anything other than eating soup and drinking coffee. Just saw a large rodent. What was that? A squirrel. Anyway, I'm about 9,700 feet. Let me show you this lake before the sun goes down. You see, I have my tent set up in a nice little alcove protected by gorgeous whitebark pine trees. There's still plenty of snow around here at 9,700 feet. And here is Lake Ruth. As beautiful and as tranquil as this place is, my mind really is in a storm of concern. I'm scared, to be honest, about tomorrow's planned A cross-country route to the south. All I see before me are mountainous walls of ice, and I'm haunted by these nightmarish visions of slipping and then sliding on an endless plunge, breaking body parts as I tumble into a snowdrift or freefall over some cliff and slowly, fatally freeze, my carcass becoming vittles for the vultures. Not a pretty picture. I suppose I could go back to the Pacific Crest Trail and take the easy route to the west. I think I'll suck on some soup and sleep on it.
Day 3. Um, it's late. I don't even know what time it is. I'm laying here in my tent. Wide awake wondering about tomorrow's climb, or climbs rather. And I'm thinking about these 2 steep, cold, snowy, dangerous, trepidous ascents. And then 2 knee-wrenching, equally dangerous, trepidous descents. All to get me to an austere upper Tilden Canyon. And I'm thinking about these little warnings I've been getting all day. First from some guy in a bandana, and then from this older couple who were from Santa Cruz. Little things. And I'm thinking about why I haven't been able to sleep, making me I didn't really think and listen really too much. And suddenly a nice, warm, long, easy, fun descent down past Dorothy Lake and into Grace Meadow and upper Jackman Canyon to the Tilden Lake Cutoff Trail. Well, suddenly Suddenly that sounds like a lot more fun to me.
When I got up this morning, I asked myself, what would the ultimate mountain mama do? Would she opt for the easy signed Pacific Crest Trail, or would she go south on an ultimate cross-country trek? Over these slippery slopes. I'm searching for Mama, so I'm going south.
I finally made it to the pass overlooking Tower, Tower Lakes. Here it is, Tower Peak. Right below Tower Peak is my entrance, my ultimate entrance into the Big Yell. Obviously another snowbound climb. Down below is Tower Lake. Anyway, I say we go, but not before a toast. If we can get this stupid thing out. A toast to where ultimate mountain mamas go. The ultimate Big L. I made it finally to, uh, to Tower Lake. Underneath— Yeah, yeah. Underneath Tower Peak. And one down, one to go. But wait till you see this one. Whoa, stay, boy. That's where I gotta go. Up an endless snowbound pass. Many passes are gonna be the demise of Of Rip Van. That'll be it. But that's it, the ultimate pass into Big Yo. My prayer has been answered as a little marmot guide leads me up the chosen path, the stairway to Big Yo. Spirits of the wilderness are my guides. I've almost, I've almost made it, I think, to the top of Mary Pass, but I have to hurry because the angle of the sun is such that the snow is freezing, and that could Give me a one-way ticket back down to Tower Lake. All right.
We made it. The ultimate entrance to Big Yoe. The ultimate pass to the ultimate Big Yoe. Mary. Mary Pass. Snowbound. Dangerous. All right, going downhill. Big yell, here I come!
There's Mary Lake. My last look at Mary Lake and at Mary Pass, the ultimate entrance into the Big Yo. And I'll pan a 180.
And that's where I'm going, down into Tilden Canyon to gorgeous Tilden Lake. I've hit the wall of exhaustion. And I'm making camp the first place I can find.
Good morning and welcome to day 4. I found camp yesterday, and none too soon, beside the meandering inlet to Tilden Lake. And despite my midnight premonitions, I'm glad I came Here via Tower and Mary Passes, though I'd recommend the route to no one, at least not while, while they were snowbound. But it got me here to the Ultimate Canyon, a truly nirvanic place, a site where I could easily spend the day getting yo'd, but the legions of mosquitoes would welcome that, and so The beast is loaded and raring to go, and so am I, on an easy rambling, ambling path down Tilden Lake towards Chittenden Peak. Let's go. Never did leave Tilden Lake. Didn't really plan on it. Whatever wall of Exhaustion I hit yesterday, I had some layover effect today, and this is all I could do. 3.5 miles, came down the far side of Tilden, crossed the outlet over here, and came up about another mile to this side here. Tilden Node, just excellent, excellent campsite. Let me show it to you. First things first, up goes Every ounce of creature comfort that I, that I carry— my tent, my bag, my pad— already spent some time in there. And secondly came the fire pit. This was just a massive jumble of circular rocks, 50, 60 pieces of garbage, half burned, half not burned. I completely restructured it, rebuilt it, made a little port where I could put my grate, boil water. On the log here I have my shoes, which need to be repaired, various essentials. On the far side beyond the fire pit I have my food in a nice shady spot, backpack ready for easy access. And after boiling all the clothes I've been wearing basically for the past 3 days and rinsing them out, now I'm letting them dry to this view. Good morning. Welcome to day 5, Tilden Node Camp. My last look at the ultimate entrance into And to Big Yo. Um, today is a travel day. I'm gonna be hiking all day, going over ridges and down into valleys and over ridges and down into valleys. Carrick Canyon is my goal. I hope I make it there. Um, even though this was the ultimate campsite, I didn't see the ultimate mountain mama. Um, Well, the beast is loaded, raring to go. Who am I to argue? Anything to get away from these mosquitoes. Um, let's get out of here. You know, I just love the physical part of an Xtrava Trek. The human body is an amazing machine.
Just made for walking endlessly. Just burning, burning fat and last night's ramen noodles. And each bootstep becomes part of the endless hiker's mantra. Each clop of the hiking stick, a beat for cadence.
Your breathing, the creaking of the backpack, Drops of sweat all fall into the physical world of the hike. Whew. Haven't seen any sign of a human in days, much less the ultimate mountain mama. I'm sorry. Good morning. Welcome to day 6 here at Carrick Canyon. I'm standing in the smoke of my fire to avoid the onslaught of mosquitoes. I told myself I wasn't going to complain about the mosquitoes, but I'm not going to complain about them. They're everywhere. They're everywhere. You know, they're— I have— my body is covered with mosquito carcass remnants. I have probably 1,000 bites. I just met the first human I've seen in 3 days. He was surrounded by a billowing swarm of mosquitoes, constantly swatting his baseball cap at his legs. I doused him with a little spray. Haven't seen the ultimate mountain mama. Like I said, I just saw the first human, and, uh, he wanted no mama. I'm under assault again. Freaking skeeters everywhere. In your mouth, nose, hair, ears, crotch, between your toes. Not to mention the meatier, more succulent parts. You know. I apply doses of DEET, but that only excites them. Last night when I finally arrived here at Carrick Canyon, I was tired, sore, negative, bugged, and bitten. But after a good, good 10-hour sleep and with no bear wars, I feel, I feel all the better. Now just to shower, shave, get Up canyon, then cross-country to Rock Island Lake. You know, I don't imagine any self-respecting ultimate mountain mama would be anywhere near these mosquito swarms. Maybe she's found sanctuary. Maybe Rock Island's the place. Let's go. An XtravaTrek is the best way I know of burning fat. In fact, fat people do better on an XtravaTrek than lean people. Lean people get tired, hit the wall of exhaustion, and have to rest, have to eat. Fat people just dig into another layer of that gut grease. I told my friends I was going to lose about 25 pounds. On this Xtrava Trek. Maybe if I don't find the, uh, Ultimate Mountain Mama and I do lose 25 pounds, maybe she'll come find me. I wonder if the Ultimate Mountain Mama is fat.
I once fell in love with a fat girl. She had a wig and a winch. She didn't understand I was a dirty old man just looking for a little fun. I once fell in love with a factor. Oh, she'd smother me in her arms at the feel of a fat-eyed purr like a cat. Now she's up and gone. Little factor, where did you go? Little factor, well, I need to know. Little factor, Little Falcon, well, it's such a low blow, Little Falcon.
Well, I miss you so. Last time saw Little Falcon, didn't look good to me. I didn't recognize those skinny thighs. Not the kind of gal for me. I'm looking for a little facker who'll wiggle where she runs.
Hope she understands I'm a dirty old man looking for a little fun. A little facker, where did you go? A little facker, I need to know. A little facker, it's such a low blow. Little facker. I miss you, son.
There's Carrick Canyon. That's the Pacific Crest Trail, the route from which I came. Right over there is Seavey Pass. Carrick Canyon continues The main trail continues up here past, I believe that's Price Peak. But I cross-country'd a route up this precipitous slope to this forested glen down here where my backpack lay.
And where I'm going is up there. Rock Island Pass. This pass that I just ascended to has no name. If I live, we'll call it Crazy Fool Pass. If I don't, we'll call it Dead Fool Pass. Hope I make it. Well, didn't make it to Rock Island Lake yet. Ran out of gas. Kind of thought I would. But I couldn't ask for any more The more ultimate spot. Crazy Fool Node, I call it. Let's check it out. Try not to let too many mosquitoes in. Got this great little view here of this meadowed and lagooned valley rimmed in by these 2 no-name domes. Over here is this granite ledge where I can sun, stargaze, or just nature watch with an excellent little sitting area. Excellent water close by. I've got a little fire pit going here. And water, water boiling, already getting ready to boil. Tomorrow I'll make another run at Rock Island Lake and points beyond. And tomorrow you won't even know that I've been here. Crazy fool. Crazy fool, no. Mmm. Melting cheese. Good morning. Welcome to day 7 in an ultimate place in the Big Yo. Crazy fool Noel. Gorgeous morning. Last night while I was quiet and listening, this little valley gave me a lesson in creation. First, an evolution of how these great granite domes evolved by glacial scouring and cleansing and rubbing and eroding over zillions of years. Evolution also in how this basin down here, which was once a lake, has slowly filled up And evolved into a lagooned, meandering meadow, and cataclysm, and how this pile of boulders here must have erupted in a giant landslide, cataclysmic at one time. It was, it was an amazing thing. My first lesson in creation. The beast is loaded. Raring to go. I'm not. My legs tell me they could use a layover day, but we're going anyway. Got about a 1,000-foot climb today. First 400 or 500 feet look to be pretty intense. After that, it's an easy meander to Rock Island Lake. And once we get there, explore the basin a while, maybe points beyond. John Muir said, only by going alone, in silence, without baggage, can one truly get into the heart of the wilderness. Well, we may not be without baggage, but we're in the heart of the wilderness now, baby. Check this out. I'm, uh, I'm one week now into my quest in search of the ultimate mountain mama. My wilderness genes have reawakened from their civilized slumber, and all my senses are peaking in the ethereal bliss of trekking over grounds untouched by a human foot for generations. These mountains and I have, have fused again. It's, it's been a while. Exploring lake basins, going up ridges and down snow flows, carousing about canyons and marveling at the wildlife, at the trees and the wildflowers. I realize that for one of the few times in my life, I am where I belong. I feel welcome and at home, for home is where the beast is. And right now, we're miles and mountains from the nearest trail, and we're days of hiking from the nearest trailhead. I'm at the total mercy of the wilderness. But even with place names like Rock Island, Suicide Ridge, Crazy Mule Gulch, I feel welcome and at home. For home is where the beast is, and the beast is on my back. We need to find a route through this maze to Slide Canyon somehow.
Sawtooth Ridge. And I'm still on my descent down to the Paiute. A little bit steeper descent than I had originally hoped.
than planned for, but I think I'll make it and go down there towards Doe Lake. The Lower Paiute. This is just a great, a great canyon. Look at all these polished granite nodes adorned with gorgeous green grass and excellent lodgepole trees. And this escarpment behind it, tear-stained and still, still wearing a little snow. And then down the canyon Towards Doe Lake. It's just an awesome, awesome canyon. Finally made it to Doe Lake. Found a great spot too. Only great spot. I'm the only one here. As you can see, the sun is going down. I've got all kinds of bluffs to dive off of.
Place is jumping with fish. Now I want you to know I didn't build this fire pit, but I'm gonna use it just the same. I don't condone building one up against a rock face like that, but you know, look at that, it's too late now. I do, I do condone benches, and I do condone leaving me firewood. And this is a great spot. I have it all to myself. And then over here, we have a major drop-off. I may just put my tent here so I can only get last light but first sunlight, which I really do like. Anyway, here's this major drop-off, and we have some— I don't know. This is what happened to our nice meandering Paiute River.
It's in that far, far canyon that's in the dark. I figured we'd do a little day tripping on some nodes over here. Doe Lake in the overflow cascading in little more than a sheet of water down into what is a good view of Benson Lake. Benson Lake is considered the Riviera of Northern Yosemite. It has these very wide sandy beaches on which to lollygag. And all the waters that I've sipped from since Carrick Canyon flow into Benson Lake. I'm on the northernmost of the Doe Lake nodes, and this is my last good look at northern Yosemite and the region I traversed cross-country. These are some of the most awesome granite walls. I saw these, what, 2, 3 years ago, and if I was a climber, this is where I'd go. That wall right there in the middle, that wall is clean. More tremendous granite walls. That forested plateau in the middle There is the end of Crazy Mule Gulch. Off to the right here, this is Bath Mountain, and that's an awesome rock face there if I was a climber. And then looking off to the east, a final farewell to Slide Canyon. So even though I traversed the region, I didn't even, didn't even scratch the tip of the iceberg in terms of exploring the folds and crannies and granite nooks of northern Yosemite. It's an awesome place. Good morning and welcome to day 8 here in the Trout Lake I'm here on the eastern shores of Doe Lake. After yesterday's historic crossing to Rock Island Lake and subsequent climb over Suicide Ridge and descent down into Slide Canyon, Paiute Creek, and then over here to Doe Lake, I'm gonna spend a couple hours cleaning up, packing up, and refocusing. For in the exhilaration of these, my adventures, I had forgot why, why I had even come here. To find the ultimate mountain mama. I didn't expect to find her in the uncharted territories, but by late today I'll be back on the Pacific Crest Trail and entering ultimate mountain mama territory. Mountain mama land. I better clean myself up.
We're in the uppermost reaches of the Doe Lake watershed, past Lulu Lake. I believe that was an eagle of some sort. And then this is where I'm going, right over this ridge over here. Matterhorn Canyon. I am pooped. I'm gonna go down and see if Old Faithful is
available. You know, 2 years and 2 months ago, I was camped here at this very same spot. It was an immaculate spot at the time, somewhat pristine, and it may even have been somewhat virgin, even though there was— yeah, there was a fire pit here. Now, 2 years and 2 months later, I want you to look at this. There's horseshit everywhere. Shit everywhere. Everywhere on what was once a pristine campsite. Now what's the deal here? Humans have to bury their feces 6 inches into the soil so it can decompose with the microorganisms properly. Humans have to carry out their toilet paper. What's the deal here? We got horse shit everywhere. And I'm pissed. They walked right by my tent, but one of the little babies got scared by me, and now they're waiting for the other little baby. Mama's going, where are you? He's just a I'm in a down jacket.
Where are you? Where are you, my little sibling? There's a yearling there too, right there. Isn't that amazing? Matterhorn Canyon walked right by my tent. Good morning and welcome to—
is it day 9? Mosquitoes and— Yeah, they're bugging me too. Great White Granite Node of Matterhorn Canyon, and we're about to get rained on. This is a great place. Last night I walked into an old favorite campground and found it inundated with equine fecal piles, and I went into a tirade and started climbing. And I climbed to this spot. It's about 50 to 100 feet up off the meadow floor. Gracious. We've been tremendously blessed without mosquitoes, just a few annoyances here and there. The first time this trip really that's happened. And sometimes, you know, out of the worst situations spring little minor miracles. And this is just a great place. Here comes the rain.
I'm going to force myself to stay all day on this great white granite node of Matterhorn Canyon. I'm tired, I'm sore, achy, and cranky. I'm just gonna sit here and sip soup and watch the clouds cruise by. Some of them even look like mountain mamas. I'm going to sit here and sip soup and watch the clouds cruise by. Some of them even look like mountain mamas. Have I been away too long?
Good morning. Matterhorn Canyon Camp, still. Camp on the great white decomposing granite nub. Welcome to day 10. Had a great day yesterday here in a great spot, an ultimate spot. So today we're starting early and going until late. Tomorrow sometime I hope to be in, uh, Twalby Meadows, the heart of ultimate mountain biking. Momoland. I had a pretty good day here yesterday at an ultimate spot. We're here in the Big Yo. It's a spot I like to return to with, with, well, you know who with. Ever since I met that Xtravatrekker, lo those many months ago, the Xtravatrekker with the Yoda face and the gap in his tooth and the crystal clear eyes, ever since I met him I met him, and ever since he told me, what you need is the ultimate mountain mama. Well, ever since then, all I could ever do is think of her. All I do, all I ever do is think of her.
Is think of you. I want a hug. I want a snuggle. I want a whisper in your ear. I want to wrap my arms around you and wipe away the tear. I want to feel your tender body. Want to kiss your soft skin. Want to tell you that I love you and do it all again. Want to tell you that I love you. I want to do it all again. I want to walk. I want to talk. Want a minute to show all of you. All I ever do is think of you. All I ever do is think of you. All I ever do is think of you.
Good morning and welcome to Lower McCabe Lake. This is day 11 of the Greatest Extrava Trek. The ultimate Abigio in search of the ultimate mountain mama. Had a pretty good day yesterday until that river crossing, and then I ran into this guy and, you know, he asked me, what are you doing up here? I said, well, you know, I'm doing this and that and I'm searching for the ultimate mountain mama. He said, no kidding. He said, a good friend of mine saw her here a couple days ago and She's been on her way. So it's like now I'm like 2 days behind the Ultimate Mountain Mama. And so I started dragging yesterday until I finally made it here to, just before sunset, to Lower McCabe Lakes. And I woke up depressed and I put my tent in the only place in the whole lake that doesn't ever get any sun. And anyway, so I showered, I shaved, put a clean shirt on. I feel I feel a lot better. And today we're going to head up over and around Sheep Peak into the basin of Mount Conness towards Young Lakes, get as close to Tuolumne Meadowland as I possibly can, and see what happens.
When I feel so incomplete, all I ever do is think of you, think of you. All I ever do is think of you. I wanna be, I wanna see who I am when you're with me. I wanna grow inside each other like a hallelujah tree. Wanna hear, I wanna say that you'll never go away, that my love for you is growing each and every day, that your love for me is growing, and that you'll marry me one day. I wanna walk, I wanna talk, but I'm in a state of shock. All I ever do is think of you. All I ever do is think of you. All I ever do is think of you.
It doesn't really look to be a pathway across that, but believe it or not, there was.
And it was pointed out to me by a, uh, what looked like a kestrel hawk. Laugh if you want, but thank you! And there it goes. Spirits of the wilderness, Oh my God. There's Half Dome. In all of Yosemite, this has to be one of the ultimate spots right here, right now. Just ate some sardines on— with onions and yellow mustard on whole wheat sourdough bread. Drink some delicious water from this tributary of Conestoga Creek. This is an ultimate spot.
I'm hiking through a fell field beside Gimley Creek. It's colonized by hundreds of these Belgian ground squirrels.
And this is the best, absolutely the best view of the fabled Cathedral Range that I have ever seen. From Mount Banner and greater, all the way to Cathedral Peak. Ultimate Mountain Mama's out there somewhere.
I'm an ultimate mountain mama man, looking for mama best I can.
Good afternoon and, uh, welcome to day 13 of the ultimate big, uh, greatest extravaganza of all time. The search for the ultimate mountain mama. I just left the Twalby Meadows store where I stocked up on batteries, bread, cheese, beans, and oh yes, firewater. 6-pack of beer, which will be tonight's dinner. The girl at the counter said, uh, Ultimate mountain mama passed through here 2 days ago. So, uh, hey, I'm looking for Mama. All that I can. After this, after a relaxful rest here on the Lyle Fork of the Tuolumne, I'm heading up Rafferty Creek toward Tuolumne Pass to a secret place, the Indian Steps, where the sunset and the dinner of bear, And bread. Should be amazing. See you there. Made it here. 2,000-foot climb approximately. Look at that, just for the camera. I made it here. Indian Steps, 2,000-foot climb approximately. I don't know how I made it. It's like the sun was slowing its descent just so I could get here to enjoy it in this most sublime spot. Give you a little bit of the panorama real quick. This is a great place.
It's a sacred place. Special place. It's a secret place.
I walked right by it. This is the one of the most obvious. This is one of the optimum rooms in the Indian Steps, of which there are hundreds. It's the only one that I've found that has 3 walls of granite. One to the south, the large one to the east, and one to the north. And then looking out to the, to the west, We have a sporadic wall of absolutely gorgeous whitebark pine, just laden with sappy, resiny cones, and affords us a view uninterrupted of the skyline. This is truly one of the most excellent places, one of the ultimate places in In the Big Yo, and it's brought to you exclusively by Extravatrick Films. I haven't really been able to find any water. Not that I've really looked.
So I guess it's beer, bread, and cheese, maybe a smattering of beans. Sounds good to me.
John G. Neihardt writes in Black Elk Speaks, Black Elk, upon ascending Harney Peak in the Black Hills of South Dakota, said, I was standing on the highest mountain And around and beneath me was the whole hoop of the world. And while I stood there, I saw more than I could tell, and I understood more than I saw, for I was seeing in a sacred manner the shapes of all things in the spirit, and it was holy. Morning, welcome to day 14 on the Indian Steps. Sunrise just emblazoned Mount Conus, awakening the coyotes and other scoundrels of the plain to their plaintive wail. Out to the north here, I believe this is Tower Peak where we started, or where we started towards 2 weeks ago.
I'm an ultimate mountain mama man, looking for mama. Best I can.
I found water. This is the most glacially pure water I've ever had in my life. I thought that perhaps after a summer's heat, this glacial pond would dry up, but obviously It hasn't. And shows no sign of doing so. I am now in the Garden of the Rock Gods. Fantastically etched, eroded chunks of Soft granite everywhere. Just an amazing place. This is the, what I call the throne room. Large arena with benches and plateaus and wonderful coffee table-like rocks here. These are the coffee table-like rocks. At its very base here, amongst these scattered erratics, is what I call the Goddess of Fertility. Boy, I wish the Ultimate Mama was here now. And over here, seemingly just bubbling from the earth, is a gorgeous vein of quartz scattering quartz nodules down the hillside.
Think I'm weird yet? Wait till you hear this one. Several years ago, when I first stumbled upon this place by chance or fate, I immediately knew this place was
someplace special. And so I sat down in a little cube of rock that was in the corner of a room, a couple of rooms over, and I was just gazing out, dumbstruck at this expansive view, when all of a sudden a voice started to come to me, not in words, but in definitive thought. It was the voice of an Indian chief. It could have been Tenaya, I don't know. That's not how he said it, but he was a tribal leader and a special man. What did he say? And he told me, all you see before you was once ours.
From the rivers to the lakes, the flowers to the trees, the meadows to the great, great mountains. We had everything until the white man came. And they berated us. For having nothing, and so they took everything from us. And then I started hearing voices of other past lives wailing a common litany of sorrow and personal loss. It became too much for me, and I stood up and ended the conversation by telling them that I will respect I will respect this place. I will respect them and their story. Always. And so when the wind blows here, as it so often does, I believe it blows from their lips. Sometimes, like now, it breezes, it breezes by a fond remembrance. And other times, it blows hard.
The Whale of Sorrow.
And that's why I call this place the Indian Steps.
It's my last battery. Got 3 days to go. I hope it lasts. Hope I find the ultimate mountain mama. before it runs out. Doing the best that I can. Looking for Mama. Today we're gonna have a relatively easy day. We're gonna do a little cross-country jaunt down to Booth Lake and then follow its outlet creek, which is Emmerich Creek, down to Lake Emmerich, site of one of the greatest bear battles of all time. Uh, we'll see you there. Good morning and, uh, welcome to day 15 here on the shores of beautiful Lake Amarok. You know, the essence, uh, essence to life is water. And the essence to civilized life is hot water. No true mountain man in pursuit of the ultimate mountain mama goes for more than a day or two without a thorough scrubbing and a close shave. There's not a stubble. There's not a stubble on this chin. And soon, once my bathwater warms, there won't be a trace of soot on my skin. And then, and only then, Well, I'll be ready for a major dose. Ultimate mountain mama. The beast is loaded, raring to go. I'm not, but you guessed it, I'm going anyway on a cross-country journey Over this ridge towards Echo Creek drainage. The normal route would be to go down here to Merced Lake. I figure I can save 12, 14 hours by taking this shortcut. That should catch me up with Ultimate mountain mama. I hope.
Kind of reminds me of Mount Whitney. First lady to ever— first lady to ever climb Mount Whitney was from Porterville. I used to live in the suburbs of Porterville. Whatever, Mountain Mama's a Porterville woman. Those Portugal women sure look like heifers to me. They got milk in their udder, the big damsel mothers always aims to move.
You miss love, you lose it. You miss now. Those portable women, those fat sassy women, they sure look like heifers to me. I love those portable women.
Finally made it to what I call Lorraine Dome, not to be confused with Moraine Dome, which is her bigger sister.
This is my last. Austin, one of my best, most ultimate spots in the Big Yo. And here you have a classic view up the Merced Canyon to the Florence Peak display with the moon rising. It's a great spot. Then over on the ridge, the other side, which you'll see shortly, Half Dome, Mount Clark, Mount Star King. But this is the classic. This is where I camp. Lorraine Dome, secret spot.
Good afternoon and welcome to day 16, sweet 16, in this most excellent adventure. Excellent, excellent Extravatrac. The ultimate Big Yo. The greatest solo Extravatrac of all times. And the search, the seemingly futile search for the ultimate Mountain Mama. Earlier this morning I went just down the hill to the camps in Little Yosemite. Camera in tow to record the joyous event, but No one ever heard of, much less seen, the ultimate Mountain Mama. So now I'm just a little bit depressed, dejected, despondent, disoriented, discombobulated. I'm trying to put some meaning into this journey, this journey of mine, this journey we just took over these past 16 days. Um, was it the chase? Girl gives a guy a wink and a wiggle and he'll follow her all night long. Did the Yoda man, the Yoda Extravatrekker, the man with the gap in his smile and his crystal clear eyes, did he give me a wink and a wiggle? Or was it the chase? Or was it— or was the hunch the thing? The hunch. Going with it and following it to its end. I really thought this thing between the Ultimate Mountain Mama and I would happen. I really did. But hey, it was still a great extravaganza. We saw some, saw some ultimate big yo. Tilden Lake, No Name Canyon, the Nodes of Doe Lake, Matterhorn Canyon, the Indian Steps, this dome. And so in closing, I'd like to dedicate this video to all the guys who have gone the extra mile, climbed the highest peak, crossed the swiftest current, scaled I filled the deepest valley for that one special woman and still didn't get her. And so this pretty much ends filming as, uh, Extrava Trek Films presents Paul Ariel Rip Van Winkle in The Ultimate Big Yo, Greatest Solo Extrava Trek of All Times, and the Search for the Ultimate Mountain Mama. Hope you enjoyed it. Should we do the dome?
I'm an ultimate mountain mama man. I'm looking for mama best I can. I'm searching high, I'm searching low. I need someone who loves me, someone who listens, someone who gave me some hugging and kissing. I'm living in darkness, show me the light. Oh, to my mama, I need you tonight. I need you tonight. I'm an ultimate mountain mama man. I'm an ultimate mountain mama man. I'm looking for mama. I'm looking for mama. Looking for mama. Looking for mama. Best I can. I'm searching high, I'm searching low. Searching high and searching low. All to meet my new mama, mama, mama, mama. Where'd you go? Where'd you go?
I'm finally able to stand on my own 2 feet and get up and walk around. And views are just beginning to explode all around me. Wait a minute, is that— excuse me, excuse me, my dear, just a moment of your time, really. If you could just, just please tell me your name, where you're from, and what do people call
Hi, my name is Alessia. I'm from Italy, and I am the ultimate mountain mama. Could you just rewind that and run that back? Run that by one more time. Hi, my name is Alessia. I'm from Italy, and I am the ultimate mountain mama. My name is Alessia. I'm from Italy, and I am the ultimate mountain mama.
Ultimate mountain mama.
I am the ultimate mountain mama.
Ultimate mountain mama.
And I am the ultimate mountain mama. The ultimate mountain mama. The ultimate mountain mama.
What a change of events that was, huh? On a quirk, I do the dome. It's always worth it. Always worth it to do the dome. Well, uh. Alacia and I have some serious getting acquainted to do, and this truly does end filming for The Ultimate Big Yo, the search for the ultimate mountain mama. This is Paul Rip Van Winkle. Give me a call, tell me what you thought. Bye-bye. Big Yo!
Here I come!
It's an awesome place.
