Big Chief & Lovers Leap at Tahoe

Many places around the world have their own lover’s leap, but few are as dramatic as the one on the North Shore of Lake Tahoe. This legend is about how Big Chief came to be.

Long ago after the lake was formed the Qua people had spread throughout the High Sierra and beyond. One large group of Quas lived winters in the foothills near Auburn, CA and summers on tranquil Carnelian Bay near the center of the North Shore of the great lake in the sky. The Quas fished the lake; and they hunted the forested lands running north towards today’s Mt. Pluto and northwestward to what they called the Big Gorge, today’s Truckee Canyon.

The Carnelian Bay Quas were a happy people largely because of the wisdom and spirit of their chief. According to E.B. Scott in The Saga of Lake Tahoe, the chief was so proficient in his leadership abilities that words could not describe his abilities. So his people gave him the title of “No-Name.” However, like Achilles, Chief No-Name had one vulnerability: He was very, very protective of his one daughter, Cedar Heart.

Cedar Heart was fragile, beautiful, and quite intelligent. She traveled regularly with her father in both summer and winter, so she knew many people in the Tahoe Region. However, Chief No-Name scared away any potential suitors who attempted to connect with Cedar Heart in any way. At the same time the Chief, in his private moments, wanted his daughter to wed and carry on the tribal customs that he had nurtured for many years.

During the extra-warm days early one August at Tahoe, a handsome brave from just beyond the mountains to the east (the Carson Range) entered the picture. He met Cedar Heart by chance on the white-sand beach known today as Sand Harbor. Before the month was out, he had won her love.

When she reported the romance to her father one morning and asked if he would welcome the brave to the tent. The brave was waiting outside. In a heartbeat Chief No-Name flew into an uncharacteristic rage, and he called for the immediate death of the young man. At once there was screaming and yelling and great commotion among the Quas.

Simultaneously the couple fled the camp together and headed on foot into the forest toward Mt. Pluto to the north. The Chief and his main men quickly followed in hot pursuit. Cedar Heart and her lover-to-be cut through the saddle between Mts. Pluto and Watson in an attempt to circle down hill to the bottom of the Big Gorge. There they hoped to hurry along the Truckee River to Squaw Valley…and up the valley to the Sierra Crest. At that point they would cross over the top, follow the established trail down to the American River, and travel on west to the green valleys of central California where they could be united forever.

E.B. Scott reports that the Great Spirit, “moved by the plight of the terrified couple, instantly started a tremendous storm that swept the forest.” Thunder roared and rain poured thought the treetops. Huge clouds blocked the sun and darkened everything, and the faint trails here and there became obscure. The couple became disoriented. At the same time, the Chief and his warriors were closing the gap.

Suddenly, Cedar Heart and her brave found themselves out in the open on the upper edge of the Big Gorge. For hundreds of feet below them there were sheer cliffs with sharp, wet granite rocks protruding at all angles. And at the very bottom was the winding river they so wanted to reach and cross.

Chief No-Name came howling out of the trees with his spear in hand; his warriors fanned out left to right. There was no chance for the couple to escape. They embraced, locked their arms around each other’s wet bodies, looked west, and leapt into space, tumbling together, slowly at first, into the yawning gorge that even today opens to the sky.

The Chief ran to the edge, not believing what he had seen, aghast at what he had done. There was no sign of Cedar Heart on the dark rocks below. He was seized with grief and despair. His life was over.

Kneeling on the slanted, flat surface from which the couple had departed, he beat his hands into the granite until they bled. The rain continued to slash into him as minutes turned to hours. His warriors blended back into the forest, fearful of their own lives.

The Chief looked to the heavens to implore the Great Spirit for help, but only more rain and thunder came in return. Chief No-Name seemed frozen in place, his face contorted as he slowly looked down, then up, then down into the abyss again.

At long last he started to rise, but the Great Spirit had wedded him to the grayish-brown rock high above the gorge. The Chief let out a long wale of anguish and stared once more into the great, storm-cloud-filled sphere above him. Then, ever so gradually, he sank into the cool granite until only the profile of his face—regal forehead, determined nose, strict mouth—remained, looking into the heavens, as it does still today.

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The author is indebted to E.B. Scott for his details on the Truckee Canyon and Lover's Leap in his wonderful book, The Saga of Lake Tahoe.

Copyright (c) 2013 Steven C. Brandt

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