Yosemite
September 15, 16
[To all of our loyal readers: Yes, we are a little delayed in our updates. Campgrounds don't often have wireless internet. Keep following -- the rest will come.]Yosemite National Park. Home of “the incomparable Valley.” Expectations were high. Anticipation was great.
Two hours into the park, the only waterfalls in sight were the tears cascading down my cheeks, Aaron had the flu, and rampaging bears had dismembered our Civic.
You see, it happened like this. When it comes to hiking, I can be as excitable as a young child at Christmastime, getting my hopes up so high that disappointment is inevitable. When we arrived in the park, we were confronted with several deflating realities: we discovered that we couldn’t climb Half Dome that afternoon (it is, after all, a 17 mile, 14 hour hike and it was 3 o’clock in the afternoon already); we spied the thronging crowds of people in Yosemite Valley; we had to park a half a mile away from the visitor’s center; all the campgrounds in the park were already full. Things were not off to a good start, and by the time we finished watching “The Spirit of Yosemite” at the visitor’s center, I was tired, hungry, bitterly disappointed, and yes, crying.
My poor husband must have nearly despaired. He had felt slightly nauseous and feverish when we left San Francisco, and the winding, mountainous roads we’d driven to get to Yosemite had done nothing to help his unsettled stomach. What was he to do in such a state with his basket case of a wife?
And then, the bears. There are 1,000 incidents of bear-related property damage in the park each year.
[This display was right outside one of the campgrounds]Foreboding signs plaster the Valley, insisting that any and all food, as well as anything resembling food (such as tooth paste, chapstick, or deodorant), be stowed safely in bear-proof metal lockers. Trash cans in this place look like man-eating dumpsters.
A ranger explained, “the bears here are smart” (to which Aaron responded later on, “if the bears can use their smarts against us, then why can’t we use our smarts against them? I want a gun ”).
At this point in our trip, our car smells like a convenience store. Even if we could dig out all the “food,” there’s nothing we can do about the chocolate melted under the emergency brake, the coffee spilled in the cup holder, or the hobo pie smell permeating our trunk. As we scoured the AAA book for motels near the park, Aaron confessed that he wouldn’t have slept a wink for fear of rampaging bears if we had camped.
So instead, we lingered in the Valley long enough to watch the setting sun dance on Half Dome and El Capitan.
[Half Dome at sunset]
We then headed south to the Miners Inn, passing a recent landslide on the way that completely covered our road (fortunately, they’d rigged up an army style bridge to bypass the rock heap).
At the Miners Inn, a suite awaited us, complete with fireplace and jacuzzi tub. It’s a rough life out here in the wild.
After a bear-free night, we rose early to greet the day and give Yosemite another chance. The park really is incredible, and despite our rough introduction to it, we could not deny its beauty as we gazed across Yosemite Valley from Glacier Point. At a height of 7214 feet, Glacier Point offers a stunning view up and down the glacially carved valley.
[The Incomparable Valley]From 1872 to 1968, pyromaniacs kindled a fire on an overhang at Glacier Point each evening during the summer, and promptly at 9 o’clock, they shoved the glowing embers over the edge, creating an impressive 1000 foot “firefall.” It was discontinued because it was an unnatural event creating unnaturally large crowds in the valley, but it must have been quite the sight.
[Cliff from which they shoved the glowing embers, creating a "firefall"]A couple of miles down the road, we parked, threw some granola bars and water into our pack, and hiked to Sentinel Dome. From the top of this dome, you get a 360 degree panorama of the Valley. While picnicking and reading “A Severe Mercy” aloud at the top, a beggar chipmunk scurried up to our pack. For five or ten minutes, he spasmodically investigated our picnicking site, crawling onto our shoes and playing tug-of-war with me over an apple core. The little feller obviously knew where to find some easy eats, but we were not to be swayed by his cute demeanor. “Keep wildlife wild ” the signs exhort, “Do not feed.”
We had climbed up the back side of the dome, like everyone else. It’s a sloping arch that gradually ascends to the summit. But unlike most people, we decided to climb down the nearly vertical front face of the granite rock. If it wasn’t vertical, it sure felt like it to me as I quiveringly followed Aaron’s surefooted lead. I’ve always found it easier to climb up than down, but the thing is, once you go up, you must go down. And so down we went, and on the way, we enjoyed the first real solitude of our visit to Yosemite.
[Us on top of Sentinel Dome]
[Safely at the bottom of Sentinel's front face]
Once we were safely on the ground, we headed for Mariposa Grove, our first introduction to Sequoia mammoths. The grove is home to some of the largest trees in the world. Most notable: the Grizzly Giant, a whopping 30 feet in diameter at the base. You can’t comprehend it until you see it. Even then, standing right in front of it, you can’t comprehend it.
[The Grizzly Giant]The oldest sequoias took root before Christ walked the earth, and the biggest ones would block three lanes of traffic on the LA expressway. While not the tallest, oldest, or even widest trees in the world, they are the largest trees in the world, generating a greater mass than any other living object.
[Bachelor and Three Graces -- average sized sequoias]
[They used to drive stage coaches through this tree]
After a fond farewell to Yosemite, we headed toward Sequoia National Park for some really big trees. But first, another free night of camping, compliments of a sketchy county park in Fresno that failed to collect our $5 fee by forgetting to replenish their payment envelopes.
, Larina.
