Ardent Ambulations: October 2015

Mark Twain once visited this place, and lied about it.

In Chapter 38 of his book Roughing It, he details a visit to Mono Lake in the 1860s that includes such observations, assertions and conclusions as “It is…about a hundred miles in circumference,” “an unpretending expanse of grayish water,” and “little graced with the picturesque.” These are opinions, sure, but I doubt few modern-day visitors would agree. And the lake is only 40 miles in circumference, not one hundred. He further describes this salty, alkaline inland sea as “solemn, silent, sail-less…the loneliest spot on earth.”

Okay, I’ll give him that last part.

And perhaps that was exactly what I was searching for. A place purely lonely, where nothing comes between human and earth, feet and vulcan dust, sun and skin. A place to feel vulnerable. To prove that one can support oneself. To carry only what is needed. To be friends only with sage and the sporadic juniper, beacon of shelter and shade. A place to make a choice and live with that choice. To have no other option.

You will be spared the elaboration, the gritty detail of each turn, the nuances of running as writing. As is only appropriate when experiencing a place such as the Eastern Sierra’s Mono Lake (remember, the loneliest spot on earth), you will be provided with a stark literary landscape of fragmented details and the rest will be, well, sand and stone.

On September 21st, 2015, I made a circumnavigating journey around Mono Lake in 9 hours and 3 minutes. I completed the effort in an unsupported fashion, carrying all essentials for the entire journey. I carried 4.5 liters of water, drank it all, and then drank straight from a fresh water source five miles from the finish of the loop.

I followed a route pioneered by local fat bike enthusiasts (called the Mono Lake Fatty 40). I used their cue sheet along with Tom Harrison’s Mono Lake map to navigate the route.