The famous promontory directly south of Glenbrook was first named in 1862. The wife of Reverend J.A. Benton, while sketching mountain backdrops, noticed a deep cut in the side of the bluff situated above Glenbrook, a pioneer settlement. On further study she saw an unusual likeness to the original Chandos portrait of William Shakespeare.

Since then a steady stream of travelers have visited the rock, peering up its formidable face in hopes of identifying the sonorous scribe of the Stratford of Avon.

Like most of Shakespeare Rock’s modern-day visitors, I go there for the climbing. Because it faces north, the 350-foot shaded bluff is a good place on heated summer days. Located just a few minutes hike from Highway 50, the landmark offers easy access and several short moderate lines up its imposing crag.

Beyond its crack systems, chalk stains, and Hippo-size fractures, Shakespeare Rock also reveals to the seeker something more capricious than 5.6s and 5.11s, something with much more karma. It’s a place of otherworldly beauty and haunting terrain, a private little monument jostling between the spiritual and the secular.

Like many of the East Shore crags, instead of granite, Shakespeare Rock is formed of andesite and rhyolite. As a result, the volcanic stone tends to be very fractured and loose, but the hike is worth the strain. For non-climbers, a fairly obvious walker’s route within the chasm invites a scramble to see wind-carved views of the surrounding countryside.

From its 6,746-foot summit, an enveloping panorama reveals the heart of Lake Tahoe, lonely, silent, serene, and enrapturing. To the south, detached from activity, is Glenbrook Meadows. Further to the south soar the Basin’s tallest peaks, Freel and Jobs. To the west, across the expanse of Big Blue, broods Mount Tallac. At its skirts is the curving edge of the West Shore.

Over the years I have never bothered to look for the small, natural profile of Shakespeare etched by lichens and oxidation.

"’Tis not the many oaths that make the truth, but the plain single vow that is vowed true," William Shakespeare wrote in All’s Well That Ends Well.

Remote in time and space, the air is soft atop Shakespeare Rock. It’s a singular place. It feels pure, as must truth.