Behind Yosemite there is an equally beautiful glacier scoured valley that was dammed to provide water to San Francisco. Snowmelt from the uplifted granite peaks of the Sierra Nevada and collects. Below O’Shaughnessy dam, tributaries join the Wild and Scenic (designation for inaccessible and undeveloped) section of the Tuolumne river as it carves a series of canyons until it reaches another reservoir. I was intrigued when I visited Hetch Hetchy on my last visit to Yosemite, and became curious what its Class V rapids were like after my Westwater rafting trip.
I got off the shuttle that took us to the boat launch and was taken aback when I saw Tommy waiting for me. I had told him my itinerary, but I did not expect him to find and book himself on the same river trip. As the only two solo rafters, we got paired off on the same raft with two other couples. We worked in pairs paddling our respective side of the raft, switching spots on the raft after running each rapid. The couple in front would move to the back, while the couple behind them would move to the front.
It was around noon when the rafts piled up on the left bank for a break, and to scout Clavey Falls from shore, the steepest and most difficult rapid on the run. The river thundered and foamed as it dropped about 10 feet followed by another drop. There was a massive rock in the center of the river below Clavey Falls which created a huge hole, both of which had to be avoided. It was Tommy’s and my turn to be in front, it was up to us to help the raft righted in the right direction away from those hazards.
One of the rafts before us had flipped and I gripped my paddle tightly. I was on the left side which meant if I fell, I would go into the hole. We paddled furiously as we reached the drop and then the raft was airborne. The front of the raft pitched down at a steep angle and the thunderous foam below was coming straight towards my face. I paddled air furiously in anticipation of the impact, which almost jolted me off the raft. I kept paddling through the whiteout trying to steer away from the direction of the hazards and then stillness. We had made it. There was a collective cheer and Tommy and I gladly traded spots with the next couple. As we settled in at the back of the raft, Tommy looked over and grinned “We make a good team.”
We went our separate ways after the rafting trip and I thought that was the last I would see of Tommy. But he was waiting for me in Wyoming when I visited Yellowstone and we ended up exploring Yellowstone together. We were there in early May, during calving season just before tourist season, and drove past roaming herds with adorable baby bison and baby deer in tow. Once we saw a man ahead of us get out of his car and approach a bull bison from behind that was grazing beside the road for a closer photograph. We commented how stupid the man was. When we drove past him and the bison, we saw the bison lift his tail and projectile shat on the man! We would chortle for the remainder of the day at the memory. The geysers were at an ebb when we visited, so we saw mostly colorful hot springs murmuring heated doubts and desires from deep underground.
We decided to hike Avalanche Peak at the south end of Yellowstone. The trail was buried in snow so we made our way up in the general direction. Tommy was used to snow so he made good progress. I had none coming from Singapore and kept falling into snow holes making my progress slow and tiring. We stopped at a clearing below the peak, we had no idea where the trail was. We decided to keep going and somehow I found myself on all fours sprawled against a steep loose talus slope atop a vertical drop, trying to traverse it to get to stable ground. We managed to scramble to the top, thinking we should be able to pick up the trail from there but no dice. To descend we had to do a series of controlled slides on the same steep loose talus, trying not to slip too far over the drop.
Back in the car, Tommy admitted “If you haven’t kept going, I would have already turned back.”
“I would have turned back too if you haven’t kept going. I guess we just push each other along” I said.
Tommy later cajoled me into joining him and his friends near Lake Tahoe for Memorial Day fireworks, and tagged me along a car camping trip to Lassen with his gay outdoors group afterwards. I hated both trips. The more I saw Tommy’s gregarious side, the more I knew we were far apart despite appearances. For him the outdoors was a playground, he would never understand my broken solitude.
“Stay. Marry me, and I’ll buy you a grand piano” Tommy said before I left.
I thought how no one had ever made that much effort to be with me. I thought it would have been the easy way out of Singapore – a nice house with a jacuzzi and a pool, a grand piano, maybe a dog or two. I wondered if I’d wind up like Robert after 20 years. I thought about the gay men in Singapore who’d be ecstatic, I thought about ambitions and dreams I wanted to make true.
As you leave Lassen National Park, keep your eye out for Brokeoff Mountain. At some point the angle changes and it no longer appears a mighty peak, and you see it as it is – the fractured remnants of a collapsed caldera. I was not the person he thought I was. I am that barren moonscape where no life can take hold.
I thanked Tommy from the bottom of my heart, and turned him down.
Erik
There is a fault below the surface that cuts through Seattle and Puget Sound capable of unleashing earthquakes, stirring sediment in the lakes, unleashing waves in the sound. Erik met me outside the hostel I was staying in beside Pike Place Market. We chatted and wandered around the market. He reminded me of our first gay.com chat where I stated that Kyrie eleison in the Latin Mass is Greek and not Latin (I don’t remember the context how that came up). As a church musician, he became interested in meeting me.
Erik invited me to his place for lunch. He was the caretaker for the Stimson Green mansion and lived in the attic. We sat and made casual conversation after a lunch of grilled salmon and asparagus that Erik had prepared. My eyes kept drifting to the harpsichord, I had never come across one in Singapore (they probably would have rotted in the heat and humidity) and I really wanted to try playing Bach on one.
“Would you mind if I tried out your harpsichord?” I asked
“Go right ahead” he gestured
I sat down. Plunked a few keys to get used to the feel of the harpsichord mechanism. Then I played Bach’s Goldberg Variation 13, slowly, reveling in the unique sonorities that the harpsichord gave to the piece. When I finished playing, Erik came over and kissed me on the lips. Then he led me up from the chair and to his bedroom. “Here we go again” I thought.
I fell into my courtesan mode, figuring I would get it done and head back to the hostel. Something unexpected happened while we were doing it, I felt a connection and passion for Erik (whom I hardly knew) and it frightened and confused me. I dozed off after and had an erotic dream about Erik.
When I opened my eyes, Erik was looking at me “Were you dreaming about me? It was cute. You were calling my name. Do you want to stay here?” I was embarrassed and flustered. I dressed quickly, stammered some excuse about having to go somewhere and fled. On my way out, I bumped into Erik’s best friend who was meeting Erik. Erik introduced us and gave me a long goodbye kiss. Erik’s best friend raised his eyebrows. I later found out that Erik hated kissing, and he confessed to his best friend I was the first person he wanted to kiss.
Suddenly in bed
Seattle I (Psychedelic Dreams)
our unexpected passion
Confused, Scared, I fled
I was disoriented and confused, I had to get away to collect my thoughts and think. Back at the hostel, I called my friend Margie on the payphone. She was surprised to hear from me. I had just taken the train from Portland to Seattle after visiting her. Sorry, I was wondering if you are busy the next few days? No. No. Nothing’s wrong. I just need to get away. Would you mind if I came back to Portland for a few days? Yes. Yes. Thank you. I really appreciate it. I’ll see you soon. Thanks so much. Bye.
I met Margie on my last US trip visiting the Sondheim list members and we really hit it off. We sang songs together, shared things with each other without judgement. She is genuine and nurturing and I always feel comfortable and safe in her company. Even though I had not seen her for 2 years, we resumed our conversations as if no time had elapsed. I wished I had a mother like her growing up. I hid in the safe haven of Margie’s house while I tried to sort out my complicated feelings for Eric and Erik. I was in such a turmoil that I probably would have done something rash and stupid if I had stayed on my own in a hotel.
Ultimately I decided to cancel my plan to return to Eric in San Francisco and took the train back to Seattle instead. Erik smiled when he saw me with my bags outside his door “I’m so glad you came back”
“Me too” I said. I did not know where this was going, but I wanted to savor this strange feeling in the remaining time I had.
