MY NAME IS MONTE WOLFE!

In 1918, Archey Wright assumed the name Monte Wolfe after losing his wife and family. He relocated from California's Central Valley to Tuolumne City in the Sierra north of Yosemite. He found work as a lumberman, cowboy and prospector working for Charles Tryon, a mining and ranching tycoon with interests in the mountainous Calaveras, Tuolumne, and Alpine counties. During the winter months he worked a placer operation that he had developed on Big Creek near Groveland in Tuolumne County.

The land above Big Creek contains a large flat partially forested cattle range bordered on three sides by precipitous canyon drop-offs. Big Creek meanders through this place before it enters the very steep 2,000’ gorge at the bottom of which is the raging Tuolumne River. Archey's diggings were situated just above this cascading gorge. The original owner of this range-land was an elderly pioneer and homesteader named Ed McGrath. He had sold the land before the turn of the century and the current owner was oblivious to Archey’s presence on the deserted reaches of his range. Around nearby Groveland, Archey Wright began using the name Ed McGrath. A name associated locally with the land he worked.

On July 30th, 1921, Groveland Constable William Schmidt received a complaint that a cabin owned by local rancher, Frank Hadley had been entered and sacked. Hadley was convinced that Ed McGrath was the culprit. Constable Schmidt knew Archey as Ed McGrath and decided to visit his diggings with Hadley to bring him in for questioning.

They found McGrath where expected on Big Creek and apprised him of the complaint. He was asked to return with them to Groveland and he complied without incident. McGrath was wearing heavy work boots at the time and asked Constable Schmidt if he could change into shoes for the trip. Schmidt allowed him to enter his campsite to make the change. After all, he knew the man. He wouldn’t try anything. A moment later he returned, his .32 Winchester at shoulder leveled upon a very surprised Constable.

He declared, “I’m am not Ed McGrath. My name is Monte Wolfe! You two - head for Groveland!” To assure they complied, he chased them up the trail a ways then, rushed back to camp to pack up and leave knowing that a posse would soon follow. He followed the Tuolumne River downstream and crossed the river at Ward’s Ferry. Carrying rifle and shotgun, he stopped at the home of Dan Berger and asked for matches. Berger handily obliged and Wolfe thanked him with a wide grin as he departed, then he departed north up to the tree line and into the higher Sierra.

Wolfe traveled north climbing up the precipitous headwall of the Tuolumne's lower canyon until he was out of sight of Berger's place. Once into the forest, he turned southeast and dropped back down to the Tuolumne River upstream from his earlier crossing at Ward's Ferry. He entered the cold river and floated feet first in a downstream traverse to the River's south shore. He exited the river where he would leave little sign and followed the south shore's densely overgrown canopy upstream into the highlands. He had hoped his ploy would work. Dan Berger would contact the Sheriff and hopefully send the posse north and away from his trail.

The following day, a posse stopped in at Berger's place as expected. Their visit was short and they departed at a gallop in the direction that Berger had shown them on their map. By the following afternoon, an ever-widening 20 miles separated posse from prey as they trekked in opposite directions.

During the weeks that followed the Groveland posse pursued Monte into the mountains without success. The Tuolumne County Sheriff, William Sweeney later joined in an unsuccessful attempt to block Monte’s retreat into the mountains. Wolfe stayed ahead of his pursuers and carefully covered his trail in a way that no white man could follow. Northern California newspapers caught on to the story and soon the name of Monte Wolfe, the Lone Wolf of the Sierra was front-page news as far away as San Francisco.

As fall progressed to winter, the authorities pursuing Monte Wolfe blocked all routes out of the mountains just below the snowline in Tuolumne County. They reported to the media that Wolfe would soon attempt to exit the mountains as no man could survive in the deep snow and freezing temperatures all winter.

Against all predictions, Monte wintered alone in a vacated cabin on the Ridburg cattle range in Bell’s Meadow. Drainage from this 6,800’ elevation meadow form the headwaters of the Clavey River. Monte knew that access to the cabin would not be possible until summer when ranchers returned to put up fences in advance of their cattle drive. When the snows had subsided sufficiently to allow access, cattleman Wesley Smith, the range boss, entered the mountain cabin and found that all of the stored food had been used or taken and numerous deer hides had been left behind by Wolfe as a calling card and a payment of sorts. The newspapers caught wind of this and capitalized on the story. The papers noted that the snow was 25 feet deep in Bell’s Meadow that winter and Monte Wolfe had thrived.

Sadly, while Monte wintered at Bell’s Meadow, his father Thomas passed away on January 11, 1922 in the Palouse. Monte stayed underground during the summer of 1922 in spite of receiving the sad news about his father. The newspapers reported that he was aware of the upcoming sheriff election in Tuolumne County and was lying low because it was thought that Sheriff Sweeney might try to clinch the election by arresting him. The reality was that Monte had left California to visit his mother Edner in northwestern Washington. After Thomas’ death, she had relocated to the Everett area with her daughter, Alma. Unbeknownst to Monte, this visit with his mother was to be his last.

After his visit to Washington, Archey returned to California. Now a bandit of repute, it seemed that stories of the infamous Monte Wolfe preceded him wherever he appeared. He reveled in this new found fame and added to the "stories" whenever he could.

The new sheriff in Tuolumne County took all the stories in with deepening interest.

TIME CAPSULE

The Victorian hope chest had transited more than six decades in a dim Stockton attic, its secrets hidden in the darkness of its cedar vault. From this attic corner the sound of a modern telephone could be heard ringing below. Muffled discussions follow and continue for some time, and then silence. Footsteps. The attic hatch comes loose with a loud snap as decades old paint gives way. "Its the old cedar chest in the back. Do you see it?" "There it is." she replied. ...and then... LIGHT!

Photos of a young couple on their wedding day in 1906... More photos of a young Army Aviator posing next to a wood and canvas flying machine, dated 1917 and marked "Corregidor" on the reverse... A collection of letters from the Aviator to the love of his life tell a story that has been hidden since 1917. The hope chest's owner had kept and protected these memories throughout her long life. She had passed on as men had first walked on the moon, and so her son took up the vigil and had protected his mother's treasures until he too was called. And now... Light!

The puzzle's pieces are now falling like snowflakes into each's ordained place and a picture is beginning to resolve. The true story of Monte Wolfe can now be told.

70 YEARS AGO TODAY...

... Monte Wolfe was enjoying his last summer on the Mokelumne. He had begun his preparations for a September visit to the Golden Gate International Exposition on Treasure Island in San Francisco Bay. He traveled to the Expo by "thumb" and appeared at the Oakland home of his adopted family, the Linfords. When he arrived in Oakland, he was in full Monte Wolfe costume; a vintage Army dress uniform with doughboy hat banded by a rattlesnake skin. Neighborhood kids playing ball in the street stopped in their tracks at the sight. When they crossed the Bay Bridge to attend the Expo, Monte wore his custom made fringed deerhide frontiersman jacket that he had commissioned for the 1939 4th of July parade in Markleeville. Many folks that attended the Expo wore costumes, as did Monte. He was in costume as himself.

After returning home to the Mokelumne River, he guided a few hunting groups including Jim Linford and his friend, attorney Bestor Robinson in November. Bear hunting was bad, but he sent Bestor home with a bear hide as a gift. On the way out, Linford drove Monte to Markleeville and then westward over Carson Pass. They dropped Monte at Plasse's near Silver Lake where he hiked down to his cabin through the Summit City canyon. That was the last time Jim Linford saw Monte.

Harry and Art Schimke had a similar story. They were visited by Monte in November at Alpine Lodge. When he departed through the deep snow, that was their goodbye.

Whatever happened to Monte, it probably happened on April 20, 1940. Strong evidence indicates this was Monte's last day. It also happened to be the day he had entered the world 54 years earlier.

Don

FORENSIC DESCRIPTION EVOLVES

There were a few times during Monte Wolfe's life when he was prodded, weighed, and measured by the law. Those measurements went into the public record and are part of Monte Wolfe's vapor trail that persists to this day. Through these descriptions we can begin to visualize his stature. His physical description evolved a little over the years due to the rigors of life and the evolution of forensic science.

On his 1909 induction into Folsom Prison at the age of 23, he was described thus:

DESCRIPTION: Complexion: Fair, Eyes: Lt. Brown, Hair: Lt. Brown, Height: 5'-5", Occupation: Miner, Nativity: North Dakota.

When he exited Folsom in 1911, his description had been refined with the following:

DESCRIPTION: Weight: 153, Hair: Dk. Blonde, Eyes: Lt Chestnut, Build: Muscular

Fifteen years had passed when Monte found himself on the receiving end of another law-imposed physical examination. He was arrested in 1927, and there was a strong attempt to identify him due to the changing directions of his case. The following information was added to the public record by the Tuolumne County Sheriff's Department:

DESCRIPTION: Prominent cheek bones / right third tow amputated, third joint, right 4th tow amputated, second joint, Horizontal scar, right side of chin,. Oblique cut, sc front left wrist, Irregular cut sc first joint back left thumb. Large oval cut inside right calf.

A FINAL NOTE: People often comment on how short Monte Wolfe was by citing differing heights that would be considered short by today's standards. Now it clear that his true height was 5'-5". My question was, how does 5'-5" compare to a sampling of 1909 inmates?

Working with the CA state archives I was able to obtain 10 pages from the 1909 Folsom Inmate Ledger. Monte Wolfe was one of 200 inmates listed there. One item the ledger recorded was the height of each prisoner. I took the heights of the 200 inmates and plugged them into a spreadsheet and then sorted and averaged the heights. The results showed a bell curve where 5'-5" was very average, 5'-1" was on the shorter end and 5'-10" was relatively tall.

That's all, "by gawree." ("Monte talk" remembered by his family)

Don

THE LEGEND OF MONTE WOLFE

Hello friends:

My name is Don De Young. I have been fascinated and moved by stories of Monte Wolfe since 1966. It was during that summer that I and my fellow Boy Scouts camped in Pacific Valley in preparation for a 25-miler down the Mokelumne's north fork canyon the following morning.

The Scouts had a group camp fire with a special guest that night. He was a local old-timer by the name of Michael Hunt and his job was to introduce a bunch of boys to the legends and realities of his long lost friend, Monte Wolfe. We were transfixed when we learned about the remote cabins Monte had built and equipped with stoves, tools, and other heavy items that he had carried in on his back. Mr. Hunt went on to explain that Monte was half-Indian and took whatever he needed, even if it was in a closed cabin. Sometimes he would compensate the item donor by providing goods or services in return for their "generosity" and sometimes he didn't, but he always wanted people to know he had been there.

Monte Wolfe was a mountain man during the Industrial Revolution. He lived outside of an American society that he couldn't come to terms with. In the winter he trapped fur-bearing animals alone in the cold and lonely mountains. In the spring he maintained a large sub-alpine garden and in the summer and fall he guided anglers and hunters, guaranteeing limits.

As legendary mountain men tend to do, he mysteriously disappeared from his mountain paradise in the spring thaw of 1940 and was never seen nor heard from again.

We camped the first night (just) under a massive thunderstorm outside of Monte's upper cabin, elevation 6,560 feet. After our flannel sleeping bags were soaked and heavy (on night-1 of our hike!) many of us migrated into Monte's cabin to stay dry. At that time, the cabin had been long stripped of all of Monte's belongings except for the cast iron stove, which no souvenir hunter had the huevos to carry out.

On day two we hiked to Monte's lower camp. On the way, we stopped by Monte's cache tree, a giant first growth Ponderosa Pine that had been fire-hollowed and later filled by Monte with survival essentials if needed during his winter trapping.

Further down we traversed the bottom tread of the legendary Devil's Staircase below Meadow Lake. We stepped lightly across Rattlesnake Flat and entered the verdant Cabin Flat and Monte's lower cabin.

The 14' x 20' cabin was beautifully intact with bear spikes in place across the door and windows. When we entered the cabin many of Monte's belongings were still intact. His skis and poles were in the rafters and his bed was still in good shape. Outside, his wheelbarrow leaned against a tree as did many heavy tools. There were at least 15 large log sections that Monte had fashioned into guest chairs. We poked through Monte's old can dump that afternoon and had a great campfire that night.

During the entire trip we all had an uncanny feeling of Monte's presence. We all hiked much of the time in silence... listening, searching. That pre-trip campfire in Pacific Valley had really done a job on our impressionable 13-year old minds!

After departing Monte's lower camp we hiked on downstream to Camp Irene where we heard the sad story of young Irene Pecchenino who had tragically drown there on July 26, 1942. In that quiet place, Irene's memory mingled with Monte's.

The following day we continued our trek on to Cedar Camp and then to the spot where Grouse Creek enters the Mokelumne. There we began the Grouse Valley Death March up the canyon wall and into Bear Valley.

Ever since that experience, I have had a place in my heart for Monte Wolfe. My siblings and friends have had to endure my Monte musings for over four decades. I've revisited the Mokelumne Wilderness many times since the sixties and even had my bachelor party at Salt Springs. Go figure!

In closing, if you or anyone you know has a Monte Wolfe story to share, drop me an email at don@deyoung.org and I will post it here.

In Monte's Spirit:

Don De Young