Blazing Saddle
Passes get a pass.
Published 11-6-2022 | Last updated 11-6-2022
61.908, -148.999
[Unofficial name, no GNIS Entry]
Pop culture references are under-represented among names for geographic features. There seems to be some unspoken rule that the title or catch-phrase of the moment is too flippant and temporary to be attached to a chunk of the planet. There even seems to be a hierarchy among categories of geographic features. Glaciers and seas are usually deemed far too noble for witty or humorous names. Smaller mountains are allowed a little wordplay, such as Higher Spire and Lower Tower. A series of peak names referencing fast food including Eeffoc Java and Daylight Donuts, proposed by a 2012 party led by alpine guide Joe Stock,[1] seems to be at the frontier of informality for local mountains. Meanwhile mining claims, ski runs, and climbing routes are the Wild West of puns, references, and highbrow and lowbrow culture.
In general, the less significant the feature, the more license given to bestow a title beyond the expected descriptive or commemorative themes. Mountain passes and gullies are just minor enough for the collective culture of the modern outdoor recreation community to consider fair game for levity. Cue ‘Blazing Saddles Pass,’ a clear nod to the groundbreaking 1974 comedy film by Mel Brooks starring Cleavon Little and Gene Wilder. It was named in February 1984 by John Bauman, Todd Frankiewisz, Steve Koslow and Marty Schmidt on a winter ski tour circumnavigating Montana Peak which also yielded the names Moosehead Pass and Sobriety Pass.[2] ‘Blazing Saddles Pass’ has since changed in common usage to ‘Blazing Saddle,’[3],[4] which conveniently bypasses any arguments about whether or not it is a true pass considering it only shaves off a half-mile from lower terrain to the northeast.
Just like the cast of the movie, the 1984 ski posse had some firepower. Koslow, a lifelong climber, would take a gold medal in his other passion a few months later when he topped the Men’s Expert division of the 1984 Eagle River Slalom kayak competition.[5] Schmidt was a PJ who had already summitted Denali multiple times.[6] He would go on to be a professional mountain guide with a significant resume including 8000-meter Himalayan peaks without oxygen. Bauman had been climbing for a decade[7] and was building skills for a life of adventure including Alaskan and Canadian mountaineering and cutting edge ocean kayaking expeditions.[8] In March 1986 Bauman, Frankiewisz, and Koslow would join Vern Tejas, Willy Hersman, and George Rooney for the first successful winter summit of Mount Logan.[9]
The trip report for the 1984 ski tour was written in retrospect by Schmidt and Bauman, sitting in the Mint Hut in November 1987. The tone of their logbook entry and knowledge of their later exploits makes those years come across as the early days for the young adventurers, full of joy and camaraderie and honing skills. Unfortunately those times don’t last forever. Koslow died tragically at the age of 35 less than a year later, in a plane crash near Talkeetna in October of 1988.[10] Schmidt and his son were lost in an avalanche on K2 in 2013.[11]
How can we remember such individuals, if we choose to do so? Considering a map, we quickly notice that commemorative geographic names don’t mean we remember who the individuals actually were. Out of all the people who recognize geographic names such as Mt. Logan or Mt. McKinley, how many feel any emotional connection to their namesakes or recall any significant details of their lives? A Mount Koslow wouldn’t impart that he “was an avid kayaker, cross-country and downhill skier, fisherman, camper, rafter, mountain biker, and loved being a father.”[10] A Schmidt Glacier wouldn’t tell us that “he love[d] guiding and did so as naturally as possible,”[11] which meant “no sherpas (above base camp); no oxygen; and no drugs”[6] for himself and his clients unless there was concern for safety. Without preserving a sense of the person it belonged to, a disembodied name on a map can never be commemorative.
Going back to the hierarchy of naming culture, it would be a fascinating study to examine why a reference to a movie honored with a National Film Registry entry is considered somewhat low-brow as the name for a mountain, but naming the same peak for an individual far more likely to be forgotten is broadly accepted in American culture. In 100 years, Blazing Saddles will probably still be familiar to the spiritual descendants of the film buffs who can currently stream The Great Train Robbery or The Maltese Falcon to a smartphone. Pop culture might be considered ephemeral, but it’s the memories of individuals which are most quickly lost unless we continue to tell their stories.
In memoriam, Steve Koslow (1952-1988) and Marty Schmidt (1960-2013). With gratitude to John Bauman for comments and corrections.
Sources
[3] Staeheli, Dave, in discussion with the author. August 2020.
[4] Woelber, Paxson, in discussion with the author. August 2022.