For the moment, Tanner seemed to rally. He cautioned me that it was just the interval between the last of the chemo treatment effects and inevitable decline. Tanner managed to gain some weight, and we spent the next few weeks visiting museums, amusement parks, hiking in beautiful places like the Marin Headlands and the Muir Woods. Both our families got together for a very successful but bittersweet Thanksgiving celebration.
Tanner absolutely insisted that I maintain my workout schedule, usually going with me to make sure. While I wouldn’t admit it, I was grateful. I was often so focused on Tanner’s wellbeing that I ignored my own, and in hindsight, I can see that Tanner did this to keep me from being socially isolated. I got to say hello to my gym buddies like Joe the bodybuilder, and it was a tremendous stress reliever to spend a couple of hours a few times a week on my own care and maintenance. Tanner’s delight in watching me—supervising me, more like—ensured that I could do so guilt-free. I’ve kept up the habit ever since.
It was a few days after Thanksgiving, and we were at the local diner with Andy, Sarah and Eliot. Andy had just turned in another stellar performance in water polo, and we were celebrating. Tanner and I continued to attend the matches along with most of the guys from the fraternity. This made it easy for me to keep up my friendship with Andy and Sarah and see the other guys I’d come to know on the team. Eliot was the only one of the frat boys to go with us, because the others seemed to lose all interest in Andy when he had his clothes on.
“It was awesome,” Tanner said. “I didn’t know they made trees that big.”
“Maybe that’s why the call them giant redwoods,” I said. Slowly but surely, I was zeroing in on Tanner’s sense of sarcasm.
“I thought maybe that Muir guy was just really, really tall,” Tanner said.
While his appetite was good, I’d noticed that Tanner had upped his pain medication. He glanced at his watch, pulled a pill out of his pocket and washed it down with the last of his iced tea.
“Why don’t you guys go back to Yosemite?” Eliot asked. “Didn’t you say you wanted to, Tanner?”
“It’s December already, little man,” Andy said. “They’ll freeze their nuts off.”
“We could rent a van,” Eliot said helpfully. “Or a motorhome. Something with a heater”
“Hang on a minute,” I said. “What’s all this we business?”
“You’ll need your support team,” Eliot said, getting more excited by the second. “Like Sherpas.”
I stared at Eliot for a long moment, looking for tell-tale signs of psychosis.
“That’s lunacy,” I said, at last.
“I could use my really cool binoculars,” Tanner said. “I wanted to go back and climb Half Dome, but it’s too late for that.”
Hearing Tanner use the phrase it’s too late nearly broke my heart, but I held my tongue. An awkward silence settled over the table. Andy seemed lost in thought.
“I think you should go,” he said, breaking the spell. “So you don’t do Half Dome. There are still some amazing things you can see and do with a motorhome.”
“This is nuts.”
“C’mon, Ry-Ry,” Tanner said, and gave me a squeeze. We were sitting in one side of a banquette across from Elliot and a guy named Helmut aboard a totally tasteless rented Winnebago as we twisted and turned the last few miles leading to the gate of Yosemite National Park.
I was only able to sell my parents on this trip because Andy agreed to serve as chaperone. It was to be a couple of days of hanging out in the great outdoors stargazing, toasting marshmallows and seeing the sights.
“You guys doing okay back there?” Andy called from the driver seat. “Anybody carsick?”
“We’re all fine,” Helmut answered.
Helmut was one of Andy’s buddies from the climbing club, and Andy had invited him to come along. Whatever. He was Swiss and kind of stand-offish, but at least he was cute. The final member of our contingent was Sarah, and she was riding up front with Andy.
Eliot’s Frat Bros had taken up a collection to rent the motorhome. The plan was to park at a campsite in Yosemite Valley for a couple of days, ride around and see the sights on the extensive tram system, and then come home. Having an RV meant that Tanner had a warm bed to retreat to if he started feeling poorly. That year we were beginning what would become one of California’s worst droughts, and the ground was still bare.
It was about noon when we rolled up to the gate. Andy paid the entry fee and we drove to the campsite. We were able to get a site on the valley floor because it was the off-season. We lucked out and landed a space at Camp Curry, with a breathtaking view of Half Dome.
“Whoo! It’s cold!” Eliot said as we all spilled out the door. I thought about saying something snarky, but the truth was, everyone else was in such a buoyant mood that I couldn’t bring myself to be a downer.
“Help me get things hooked up,” Andy told Eliot. “I want to get the main heater going.”
The pair disappeared around the other side of the RV while I stayed behind rubbing my hands together for warmth. Helmut looked at me and smiled.
“You are cold, my friend?” he asked in a nasally German accent peculiar to the Swiss.
“Freezing,” I said as I watched my breath hang in front of my face.
“Hell, Ry-Ry,” Tanner said. “It’s gotta be at least fifty. That’s downright balmy!”
I was convinced that it was my fellow campers that were balmy. I checked my phone.
“Forty-eight,” I said. “Colder if you measure in Celsius.”
Tanner turned to Helmut.
“For real?” he asked.
“He is pulling your foot,” Helmut answered.
“You mean my leg?”
“Yes, your leg. But it will get very cold tonight.”
Ever since this plan had been hatched, Tanner had gotten more and more excited, while I became even more convinced that the whole thing was a recipe for disaster. As Tanner’s mood improved, I felt more and more guilt over my negative feelings. Now, we were here—boots on the ground, so to speak—and there was no turning back. I tamped down my negativity and allowed Tanner’s child-like enthusiasm to wash over me.
“Does this help?” Tanner unzipped his down parka and pulled me against his warm body. He wrapped his coat around me and held me tight. Once again, it was Tanner—the one who had so much to lose—who was comforting me.
I reached inside his jacket, returned the hug and leaned my head against my boyfriend’s shoulder. “Yes,” I said softly.
“You’re not gonna get my shirt all snotty again, are you?”
“No.”
I glanced up to see Andy, Eliot and Sarah watching our poignant display with empathetic expressions. Only the Teutonic Helmut seemed unaffected. I stepped away from Tanner and pulled out one of the many tissues I’d started carrying and blew my nose.
“This is nothing,” Helmut said. “When my father and I climbed The Eiger, we had to traverse glaciers and sit out a blizzard.”
“You climbed The Eiger?” I asked. It’s a notoriously dangerous and difficult mountain in the Alps.
“Yes,” Helmut said. “I was fifteen—younger than you. We climbed The Matterhorn the next year. We plan to do all eight of the great peaks. Next on the list is Kilimanjaro.”
“Cool,” Tanner said. “Hey Ry-Ry, do y’ suppose... ”
“Don’t even think it,” I snapped. Tanner grinned and squeezed me again.
“I will go check the equipment,” Helmut said and went back into the RV.
“I vill go check zee equipment,” Tanner whispered in my ear. “Again.”
“You’re terrible,” I whispered back, and then had a thought. “What equipment?”
“You know the Swiss,” Tanner said. “They’re not happy unless their checking something.”
That didn’t make any sense at all, but I let the matter drop. Eliot and Andy reappeared from the far side of the RV.
“All hooked up,” Eliot said.
“Not that the little man here was any help,” Andy said
“I supervised.”
“Whatever. Let’s have lunch.”
When we got back inside, Sarah was already laying out cold cuts and other sandwich fixings. Helmut was in the back fussing with, well, I wasn’t sure.
“You guys can make your own sandwiches,” she said, “so come and get it.”
We lined up at the little counter and started assembling our lunches. Sarah slapped Andy’s hand.
“Wash up first!” she told him. As the only person having done any real work since we arrived, his hands were dirty from connecting the various hook-ups. “Let’s see the rest of you... ”
Like little children we obediently held our hands out for inspection. Andy went and tried to squeeze into the tiny bathroom.
“I guess the rest of you are okay.”
Tanner gave me a wink.
After we finished lunch, Sarah—definitely a 21st Century woman—assigned Eliot to clean up, who attacked the chore with gusto.
“If it’s all the same to you, Ry-Ry,” Tanner said, “I’m gonna catch some zees.”
“Are you feeling all right?” I asked with concern.
“Yes, I’m feeling all right,” Tanner said, copying my inflection. “We’ve got a long night ahead.”
As my boyfriend sawed away in the upper bunk in the back of the RV, Andy sensed I needed something to do, so he sent me out to collect firewood. Campers are allowed to pick up wood that has fallen from trees naturally, but by this time of the year, the area had been picked clean. I ended up walking with Eliot over to the nearby general store and paying far too much for two little bundles of wood.
“Tanner said something odd,” I told Eliot as we walked back to the RV.
“Now there’s a shock.”
“He said we have a long night ahead of us. What do you suppose he meant?”
“Hmm,” was Eliot’s noncommittal reply, before his expression turned to a smirk. “If my boyfriend said that to me, I’d know exactly what he meant.”
By the time we returned back at the RV, Tanner’s remark was starting to gnaw at me.
“I could probably heat my house for a month for what this cost,” Eliot said as he dumped his load of firewood next to the concrete ring.
“Either of you know how to build a fire?” Andy asked. Elliot looked at me.
“How hard can it be?” he said.
“Um... tell you what,” Andy said, “I’ll take care of it after dinner.”
Eliot and I killed the next couple of hours riding the free buses around the valley and sightseeing. When we returned, Tanner had arisen from his nap and was helping Andy get a tabletop grill going.
“Are you sure that’s enough?” Tanner asked Andy.
“You gas grill guys are all wimps,” Andy said. “Real men use charcoal.”
“Don’t you need lighter fluid?”
“Watch and learn.”
Andy struck a big kitchen match and methodically touched it to the corner of one briquette after another. Within minutes, the pile was ablaze.
“Hmm. Did you know about this, Ry-Ry?”
“The match-light charcoal’s not exactly new, Tanner,” I said. “But yeah. We have a Japanese smoker.”
Tanner reached out and guided me to the bench, next to him.
“You’re the only smokin’ Japanese I know,” he said and then gave me a kiss.
Soon enough, the coals were ready. Sarah appeared from the RV with a plate of hamburger patties.
“Brr,” she said as she set down the plate. “It’s getting cold. We’re going to eat inside—you boys can go in now, if you want.”
“Okay,” Eliot immediately replied. He’d been stamping his feet and rubbing his hands and didn’t need to be told twice. Tanner unzipped his coat and pulled me against his warm body. I reached my arm under the coat and around his waist as he draped the fluffy fabric over my shoulders.
“We’re all right for the time being,” Tanner said. “Aren’t we, Ry-Ry?”
“More than all right,” I said as I snuggled my head against Tanner’s neck.
We watched as Sarah and Eliot went back in the RV and Andy put the burgers on the grill. Tanner and Andy enjoyed verbal ju-jitsu over the correct way to grill hamburger patties while I contentedly nestled in my boyfriend’s arms. In truth, my feet and my butt were starting to feel the cold now that we weren’t moving, but it was worth the inconvenience.
“How was your nap?”
“I feel fresh as a daisy,” Tanner answered.
“You said something just before you went to lie down.”
“You guys like your buns toasted?” Andy asked before Tanner could answer. My boyfriend looked at me with a twinkle in his eye.
“What do you think?” he said, his voice dripping with innuendo.
“Eww,” Andy said, giving a slight shiver. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
Soon the patties were grilled and the buns were toasted, and Andy stacked them all on a clean paper plate and we went inside. Tanner and I sat on one side of the banquette and Sarah and Andy on the other, his long legs sticking out into the aisle. Helmut and Eliot swiveled the driver and passenger seats around and balanced a plate in their laps.
“Who wants s’mores?” Sarah said when we were finished eating.
“Ooh! Me! Me!” Eliot said, holding his hand up.
“Good,” Andy said as he stood up. “You can help get the fire started.”
Eliot’s face dropped so fast, Tanner and I burst out laughing.
“But, I... I don’t know how... ”
Andy loomed over Eliot, his head bent due to the low ceiling.
“Consider it a learning opportunity.”
“And he’s going with us?” Helmut asked.
“C’mon, little man,” Andy said as he stooped even lower to get through the door,” “It’ll be good for you.”
“It’s a good thing you’re not going all the way,” Helmut added, now also standing. Eliot realized he was outnumbered and starting pulling on his coat.
“These better be damn good s’mores,” he grumbled as the three went outside. Once they were gone, I turned to Tanner.
“Something’s going on, isn’t it?”
“What do you mean?”
“Damn it, Tanner! You’re hiding something. So are the others. Am I right?”
“Now, Ry-Ry... ”
“Am I right?”
Tanner looked down. He seemed to be struggling with the answer.
“Yes,” he said at last. “I need your help, Ry-Ry. Andy and Helmut have it all worked out, but you have to be part of it.”
“What?”
“We’re going to climb Half Dome.”
At first, it didn’t register, but then I started to realize my boyfriend was serious. I jumped to my feet, holding my hands against my head because I was sure it would explode.
“What the hell, Tanner,” I screeched. “What the hell?”
“It’s... it’s all worked out,” Tanner sputtered. “Andy and Helmut... ”
I spun on my heel, pushed past Sarah and charged outside.
“I think he knows,” Eliot said.
My so-called friends didn’t seem surprised when I dashed out like a madman. I jabbed an accusatory finger in Eliot’s direction.
“You knew,” I ranted, making a sweeping gesture with my hand. “You all knew!”
“Take a chill pill, Ryan,” Andy said. His matter-of-fact attitude enraged me even more.
“But it’s closed!” I screamed. “The cables were taken down!”
“That’s why we brought this guy,” Andy said calmly. Helmut was standing by the storage locker in the back of the RV with a coil of climbing rope in each hand.
By now, my fury had rendered me literally speechless. As I struggled to process the situation, my anger turned to panic. I dashed back inside.
“You’re... you’re not going to jump off... or anything... are you?”
For a moment, Tanner’s face was unreadable, and then he pulled me into a ferocious hug. As I struggled to catch my breath, Tanner whispered in my ear.
“Oh Ry-Ry,” he said, his voice catching, “for a guy with a ginormous brain, you are such a little idiot.”
We sat down and cried in each other’s arms for a few minutes.
“I could never do that to you,” Tanner whispered. “I know you, Ry-Ry—you’d think it was your fault.”
I leaned back and rested my head against Tanner’s shoulder.
“You’re right,” I said with a sniff. “I would.” Tanner started wiping the front of his shirt with his free hand.
“Eww! You did it again!”
When I’d finished screaming and yelling at the imperturbable Andy, I finally started listening.
“So that’s the plan, is it?” I asked.
“Yes, it is,” he replied.
“Whether I like it or not?”
“Pretty much.”
Technically speaking, that wasn’t completely true. I could have absolutely dug in my heels, run off to tell a ranger or called Lou or my Dad, and they would have called off this grand-daddy of a bad idea, but between Andy’s resolute gaze and Tanner’s puppy-dog eyes, I cracked like an egg. Special honors go to Sarah for her motherly hugs and Eliot for making it sound almost sane. Helmut methodically explained the climbing gear in a clinical—everything’s methodical and clinical for Helmut—fashion.
Andy was the ringleader, and I realized from his utter determination that he loved Tanner every bit as much as I did. He’d do anything for him. After getting everyone to solemnly swear on Sonja Henie’s tutu that we would turn back if Tanner experienced the slightest distress, I reluctantly gave in. I decided to drown my sorrows in s’mores.
Eliot, apparently now the master woodsman, explained how he had dumped the remaining coals in the fire ring and piled wood on top, and presto, a crackling fire. I’m sure it was merely an oversight when he neglected to mention that he was only doing what Andy and Helmut told him.
“Not bad, I guess,” Eliot said as he squeezed a gooey toasted marshmallow and a piece of chocolate bar between two graham crackers.
I was on my second s’more when Tanner leaned in.
“Should we tell him he has chocolate on his nose?” he murmured.
“But he doesn’t.”
“That wasn’t the question.”
“Okay,” I giggled.
“Yo! El-bro!”
“Huh?”
Tanner looked Eliot in the eye and made an elaborate production of wiping the tip of his nose. Eliot squinted, crossed his eyes and rubbed his own nose in the same place.
“Nah, here—lemme get it... ”
My boyfriend reached over with his thumb and helpfully rubbed the tip of Eliot’s nose, leaving it smeared with chocolate.
“That’s better,” he said.
If I hadn’t turned away, I’d have laughed out loud. I worked hard at trying to look like I was suddenly interested in the side of the RV. I knew if I made eye contact with anyone else, what little self-control I had left would evaporate.
“So,” Andy said without even cracking a smile, “the s’mores were worth it, then?”
“Tolerable,” Eliot replied. “I might even have another.”
Zero hour was midnight. We had to make it from the trailhead all the way to the base of the rock before daybreak. Most people stay overnight at the campground in Upper Yosemite Valley, but that requires a wilderness permit, and there were no more of those to be had than permits for the rock climb. Andy and Helmut, our two strongest and most experienced climbers, had all the gear stashed away in full-sized packs—if we did happen to run into a ranger at that hour, we didn’t want to explain all the ropes and rigging and helmets. We’d merely get shooed off back down the trail and hopefully not get into any real trouble.
Tanner, Eliot and I were wearing much smaller day packs with mostly snacks and water. Sarah was staying back at the RV, or Basecamp One, as Tanner called it, with a walkie-talkie, and, as I presumed, to be on hand to identify the bodies.
Bundled up in a down parka, flannel shirt, wool pants, two pairs of socks and long underwear, I was mentally calculating whether I was more likely to roast or freeze. Elliot sensed that I was still a tiny bit annoyed and said nothing more about being cold.
As we were sitting around the campfire earlier, high overcast cloud cover had come in. This was good and bad—good from the standpoint that it would keep the temperature from dropping much more—bad if it didn’t burn off by the time we reached the top and spoiled the view. I’d be heartbroken for Tanner if we did all this and he couldn’t see anything from up there.
About as stealthily as a pack train, we started for the trailhead. Skirting the parking lot to stay out of sight, we crossed the bridge across Merced River and passed the darkened visitor center.
“Everybody have your bear spray?” Andy quietly asked the group.
“Bear... ?!” I yelped. I thought they would all be hibernating by now.
“Shh!” came the chorus from my fellow hikers.
“The pepper spray,” Andy hissed. Everyone nodded in the affirmative.
I was already on the edge of freaking out, and I didn’t need anyone reminding me that on top of the threat of going to jail, I could be eaten. The memory of the mangled car door that Tanner and I saw in the visitor center on our previous visit was suddenly thrust foremost in my mind.
“Don’t worry, Ry-Ry,” Tanner said as he took my hand, “I won’t let no bear gitcha.”
“What about me?” Eliot asked.
“How fast can you run?”
“You expect me to outrun a bear?”
“You don’t need to outrun a bear,” Tanner said. “You just need to outrun at least one of us.”
It turned out the bear threat was way overstated, and was mentioned just to mess with me. We made our way up the trail in silence, past the falls that Tanner and I had hiked months earlier, when the river was much higher and the weather much warmer. We reached the spot where we had to scramble up large granite blocks arranged like giant stair steps. Andy and Helmut powered past the obstacles like machines, despite the heavy packs. Eliot huffed and puffed, but no more than one might expect for your average out-of-shape college student. Being used to long-distance running and swimming, I had little difficulty.
Of course, we all kept one eye on Tanner, looking for the first signs of distress, but he seemed to be doing fine for the moment. The tricky part was trying not to be obvious, but I put into practice the boy-watching techniques of looking-without-looking-like-you’re-looking that I was learning at the feet of my more-worldly fraternity brothers.
At about two-thirty, we reached the rest area at the base of the upper falls. We found a secluded spot behind the outhouses and took a break for energy bars and water. It was bitterly cold.
“How are you guys doing?” Andy asked. “Everybody warm enough?”
“Warm as toast,” Tanner answered before putting his arm around me. “How about you, Ry-Ry?”
“Okay, actually,” I said. “I’m glad I took your advice about the cap.”
Tanner had a lot of experience hunting and fishing in the winter back in Texas, and he’d urged me to spend the extra money for a real wool watch cap. I’d also brought a wool scarf.
“That’s some muffler you got there, Ryan,” Eliot remarked. He was referring to the garish Christmas theme that included red and green stripes and misshapen snowmen and reindeer.
“My aunt knitted this when I was twelve,” I said. “This is the first time I’ve worn it.”
“Really?” Eliot said with a grin. “I thought you’d need it all the time in Berkeley.”
“Every time it snows, I’m sure,” Tanner said.
“What about the overcast?” Eliot asked while munching on his energy bar.
“It is good, for now,” Helmut said. “Without the high clouds it would be many degrees colder.”
“What if it starts snowing?”
“Then we turn around and go back,” Andy answered. “But it ain’t gonna snow.”
We finished our rest break, made use of the outhouses, and continued on up the path. The overcast provided a further benefit of an even, gray light. That meant we didn’t have to use our headlamps and risk being spotted by someone from below. After about another hour, we reached the upper falls. The Merced River was narrow here and low enough that we would have no problem crossing. To our right was the pool where Tanner had fainted last summer and the ranger and I had to fish him out so he wouldn’t drown. A lump rose in my throat as I recalled the incident.
“Let me go first in case there’s any ice on the rocks,” Andy said.
“I’ve got no problem with that,” Elliot replied. Helmut rolled his eyes.
After crossing over without incident, we entered the mouth of Upper Yosemite Valley and followed a straight, easy path wide enough to handle a vehicle. After about a quarter of a mile, we reached the upper valley campground. It was deserted.
“Last chance to use the facilities,” Andy said, pointing at an elaborate two-story structure.
“Why are the toilets upstairs?” I asked.
“Believe it or not,” Andy answered, “in the summer, someone comes up here twice a week and mucks this thing out. They pack it out with mules.”
“Ick.”
Andy turned to Tanner.
“How are you feeling?”
“Tip-top,” Tanner said with a grin.
My boyfriend continued to amaze. Here we were in the middle of the night, the middle of nowhere and the middle of winter, and if you hadn’t known him before he lost weight, you’d think he was perfectly healthy. Still, I was nervous as hell. Andy put his hand on Tanner’s shoulder and gave him a serious look.
“Tanner,” Andy asked, “how are you doing?”
For a moment Tanner’s ubiquitous grin wavered slightly, but only just.
“I’m good,” he said.
“What about the rest of you guys?” Andy looked at each of us in turn. “Good?”
We looked at each other and then spoke in turn.
“Good.”
“Good.”
“Good.”
“Okay,” Andy said, turning to point off into the distance. “See that little cabin? That’s a ranger station. I don’t know if it’s manned this time of year, but in case it is, we’re going to go the long way around the campground—and be quiet.”
We filed along in silence as Andy led us around the campground perimeter, trying to keep as much distance between us and the cabin as possible without straying into the woods.
“Base camp to team! Base camp to team!”
We all jumped as a woman’s voice crackled from Eliot’s radio. Andy, Tanner and Helmut all grabbed at once for Eliot’s backpack and nearly ripped it off of him trying to get into it. Andy got to the radio first and turned the volume way down.
“What is it, Sarah?” Andy hissed into the speaker as loud as he dared.
“Is this team? This is base camp... ”
Andy rolled his eyes. I glanced over at the cabin expecting a light to come on at any moment.
“What—is—it—Sarah?” Andy whispered through gritted teeth.
“How are you boys doing?” she asked brightly. “Everything okay? Where are you?”
“We’re okay,” Andy murmured. “We’re starting up the last leg before the climb.”
“Okay. Call me when you get there,” Sarah said. “Or if you need anything.”
Andy thrust the radio toward Eliot and glared at him. Eliot shrugged his shoulders and took the radio. I started to move, but Andy held out his arm. We stood there in silence for a minute or two looking across at the cabin until Andy was satisfied. Once we were out of sight of the little building, Andy stopped and turned to Eliot, who still held the radio in his mittens.
“You were supposed to carry that on your belt!” Andy snapped, as loud as he dared.
“Under this?” Eliot held out his arms, indicating his heavy down parka.
“Then put it in your pocket. Or just carry it.” Andy spun on his heel and continued walking. “Jeez... ” he muttered. More shrugs from Eliot—Tanner just looked at me and grinned.