He Brings ‘Em Back Alive--but Weary

When Lee Bergthold says wilderness, he means wilderness. You go backpacking with Bergthold, you go from here to there, period. No road, no trail, no path. You move over terrain as craggy and rugged as Bergthold himself. And when--if--you come out, seven days later, “You feel good about yourself.”

Bergthold, honed and hardy at a barely credible 54, directs a Survival Backpacking program for Antelope Valley College in Lancaster. He’ll lead four treks this summer, preceded by a June 3 seminar ($25). Wimps need not apply.

“I try to discourage 90% (of the applicants) because they usually don’t know what they’re getting into,” Bergthold says. “They don’t understand that we’re going to get through that route come hell or high water, bears or breakdowns. If there’s an injury or illness I will get that person out, but we won’t abort the trip. The only thing that would bring us out would be a fatality. This is for real.”

Bergthold’s bands tackle the eastern escarpment of the Sierra, “a pretty rough sonofagun to take on.” They “work through” a series of climate zones, from desert through Alpine to “moonscape”--where, the guide says, “women can handle epoxic (low-oxygen) conditions much better than men.”

“Yes, it’s a high-risk activity,” he concedes (fee of $160, minus seminar charge, includes insurance). “The school says, ‘Lee, we don’t want to know what’s going on. Just bring ‘em back alive.’ ” Rewards, though, are manifold if psychic. “It’s primitive but exhilarating,” Bergthold says. “It builds confidence like nothing else. The feeling is, ‘If I can do this, there aren’t too many things I can’t do.’ That’s the bottom line.”

But for Bergthold, it’s a way of life, one he’s pursued for 30 years. “Yeah, people envy me,” he says. “They think I’m on a continual trip. They don’t realize how hard I work--or how much I love it.”

Troupers’ ‘Ode to a Bit Player’

John Lund--remember him?--is in it. So is Ginger Lee, Essie Moody Sherman and “the world’s only singing paper manipulator.”

Seniors all, they’re the stars of “Ode to a Bit Player,” a unique documentary by Wendy Robbins premiering Saturday, next Sunday and June 1 at EZTV, 8547 Santa Monica Blvd. It’s hard to say who got the biggest blast out of the show, the old vaudevillians or Robbins, 29, who calls her film “a homage to all those with an endless list of credits but little recognition.”

Take Sherman, for example, who “never went to school a day in her life because her vaudevillian mother didn’t believe in it.” At 85, Sherman has a glass eye, six steel pins in one leg, scars from a lion bite and a victory over cancer. So what does she do in “Ode”? Tap-dances, is what, and with “amazing energy,” according to Robbins.

Take Lee. The 82-year-old stripper, “a real character and a descendant of Robert E.,” still is “sexy in the truest sense”; in the film, she “gets down to this little black outfit with fringes, all the while singing ‘I’ve Got It , but It Don’t Do Me No Good.’ ”

Lund, 74, a romantic lead of the ‘30s and ‘40s, is pretty much himself--”still very handsome”; Roy Woldum reprises his old Welk Show gig as a “back-throat whistler” (without lips); Pearl Burnett sings while tearing out huge paper designs. In all, 12 troupers tell their stories, stories you can share for a $4 donation (call (213) 660-5236), stories Robbins calls “haunting, funny, sometimes disturbing, but all celebrations of life.”

Shunning more commercial endeavors, Robbins also has filmed a ghetto boys choir and street theater among the homeless. “Life’s too short,” she says. “You have to go where your heart is. . . .”

A Lonely Mission Finally Bears Fruit

Conversion hardly seems imminent, but if Neal Pargman had his way, Californians would scrub “Have a nice day” and sign off with “Save the Earth!” Whatever, Pargman can wait. He’s used to it.

It’s been 17 years since Pargman--currently of Woodland Hills--started the Save the Earth Foundation on crossed fingers and a frayed shoestring. “A time warp” he calls the interval between ecology-minded hippies gone Yup and today’s increasing awareness of our planet’s fragility.

For 17 years, Pargman has scrounged, mooched, hitchhiked, slept on beaches--and never faltered in his lonely mission.

Last year, the foundation finally bore fruit, to the point of awarding a grant to UC Davis. Next week, Pargman will present another grant, to Duke University. Small grants to be sure--$3,000 each--but representing virtually everything Pargman has taken in to date.

He is licensing his logo now--clothing, toys, accessories--and the cast of “The Young and the Restless” has earned $7,000 for the cause from a celebrity quiz show. The movement is on a modest roll now, and you’ll be hearing more about Pargman--somewhat astounding, considering that he was nearly snuffed before he started.

Shortly after he began his one-man crusade, Pargman, in heavy gear, was fishing off a rocky promontory in Santa Cruz. A huge wave washed him out to sea. The clothing held him down. “I was underwater, off and on, for 20 minutes,” he recalls. “I was going to die. I kept saying, ‘Oh God, I’m not ready to go yet. There’s something I have to do.’ ” At that point, another giant wave lifted him and deposited him back on the rocks.

Back on terra firma, Pargman admits that “wearing a logo won’t save the Earth, but it’ll get the message into your head.” Isn’t it too late? “Well, it doesn’t look real good. It’ll take a miracle. But I’ve seen miracles before.”

First-hand.