Strange name for a monolith, to be sure. Not far south of the parking abomination Telluride has become, Lizard Head was at one time a lizard’s head. A cataclysmic rock fall in 1911 left the column of extruded volcanic ash looking more like a two-faced pillar. At over 13,000 feet, the column itself gives climbers a very difficult time. I myself, uncoordinated as I am, never attempted such a feat with my feet. Closest I ever got was the base of the column, which is a strenuous climb at the end of a 2+ mile up-mountain hike. I’e seen climbers get themselves in a tangle as I watched at the base, the words Rock rock rock shouted out every so dangerously often as I kept safely away.

The views from anywhere near Lizard Head offer a near 360-degree panorama of sharp cut peaks jeweled with snow even in September. The summits in this region of the San Juans cliff out in walls miles long. The forests, not yet decimated by the pine bark beetles encroaching from the north and east, launch up vast rises from either side of the highway at Lizard Head Pass.

I make it up past the spruce and fir, passing through meadows of tall grass and stands of ripe skunk cabbage. I’m on Cross Mountain Trail, and the trail to the base of Lizard Head goes up farther than I remember.

A spur trail leads out into the wide valley that cradles the highway. I remember years ago standing down in that valley in the middle of the night, in single digit temps, amazed at the cold clarity of the moonless firmament. That moment became a timeless now, and I still held it aloft like that even though it receded into the deep past.

On the way down, I encounter a couple young fathers and their children heading down the trail. We exchange the requisite hiker greetings as I pass by: Beautiful day, isn’t it? Yeah. Have a great hike!

They release their children on the path behind me, and the kids insist on running downhill, nearly catching up with me, then falling back. Catching up and falling back. Playing their games. They finally pass me near the trailhead.

To Get There: Take Highway 145 north from Dolores, encountering some of the most beautiful country this country has to offer along the way. North of the town of Rico but before Trout Lake, the land opens up at Lizard Head Pass. Cross Mountain Trailhead is at the first parking lot on your left. From Telluride, head south on 145 past Trout Lake until you reach the second parking lot and trailhead on the right, just past Lizard Head Pass proper.

© 2022 by Michael C. Just

Mike’s novel, The Dirt: The Journey of a Mystic Cowboy, is available in softcover or eBook formats through Amazon.

You can purchase the book through this website. Or go straight to amazon at https://www.amazon.com/s?k=the+dirt+journey+of+a+mystic+cowboy&crid=1S40Q4BXSUWJ6&sprefix=the+dirt%3A+journey+of+a+m%2Caps%2C180&ref=nb_sb_ss_i_1_23

Mike’s other titles, including The Crippy, The Mind Altar, and Canyon Calls, are available through this website or through Amazon at https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B002

Four of his short stories have recently been published online:

Lies, Ltd. has been published by The Mystery Tribune @ Lies, Ltd.: Literary Short Fiction by Michael C. Just (mysterytribune.com)

The Obligate Carnivore has been published by the Scarlet Leaf Review @ Category: MICHAEL JUST – SCARLET LEAF REVIEW

I See You, Too has been published by the 96th of October @ I See You, Too – 96th of October

Offload, a short story about a man who can heal any disease, is now live and can be read at The Worlds Within at Offload – The Worlds Within