Trip Date: April 23, 2015
Find this SpotWe have gone to Yosemite every Fall for the past several years with our friends Moe and Dave and others who have joined us from year to year. During our trip last October, we decided to move the trip to the Spring so Moe and Dave could see the waterfalls in full rage mode. However, as this first Spring trip approached, Moe and Dave couldn’t make it. Our friends Mike and Sharon and daughter Haley would join us however. The weather had been magnificent, warmer than usual for the weeks before the trip. However, by Earth Day, it was apparent we would have some rain and possible thunderstorms for most of our Yosemite stay. This would not be a problem for us, as we just love to be in Yosemite and there are plenty, too many in fact, of indoor things one could do if the weather was unpleasant.
Undeterred, we left Sacramento about 9:00 and arrived about 1:00. I believe we finally mastered driving through Sonora, or more accurately avoiding driving through Sonora, which has typically caused me some amount of heartburn. It always seemed circular and trafficy and congested going through Sonora. There is an excellent short cut that avoids it altogether and I believe I finally have got it down. I also charted a route that seemed new to me on the map, that once again, was a familiar route once we got to it. Not sure if it is shorter or faster or more direct, but it is more pleasant. We had to stop for construction at 2 of the tunnels coming into the valley, but otherwise, it was a fairly uneventful trip that took the typical 4 hours to make.
We got to our campground, endured the lecture from the host about bears, fires, generators, the weather, water, religion, taxes, etc., signed the papers and initialed others about having heard what they said and testifying to tell the others. We found our site much like we have the past 5 or 6 years now. Glacier Point was still high above; North Dome and Washington Column, and Half Dome were all still where they were supposed to be. It was reassuring. The weather cooperated while we unloaded and set up camp. We were done in no time; having selected sites for our tent and one we brought for Haley. It wasn’t long before we celebrated with a room temperature beverage and got a fire going.
We planned on a simple weenies and corn-on-the-cobb faire, easy and quick at the end of a long day. It sprinkled the tiniest bit off and on and we would gather our chairs and odds and ends under the soccer tent we set up in between the table and the bear box. While this location did not keep the table dry, it did allow us to set the chairs in the middle of the tent or the opposite side of the direction the rain was falling to maximize the dry-keeping potential. However it did not allow us to stay close to the fire. Ain’t nothing perfect. The sprinkle was so mild, it really didn’t matter. In a few minutes, the precipitation had stopped and we were back at the fire ring turning our wieners.
We were able to eat and settle in before the rain returned a little more significant this time. Enough so that going back and forth under the canopy no longer seemed appealing and we were ready to surrender to the tent. It was a great day. We had accomplished everything we had set out to do. We were in Yosemite. It was good.
We slept poorly as it rained pretty well on and off throughout the night. The morning was still gray and overcast, but no rain. I got a fire going and made coffee. Kristen put the bagels on the grill along with the slices of ham. Once they were warmed and browned to perfection, we slathered cream cheese on them and had a great little breakfast morsel. We headed to Curry to check emails and phone calls and such from Mike and Haley. We responded to both of them and were happy to know that they both were on their way and would arrive that afternoon. Kristen got a great hot chocolate from the bartender who told us about the Warriors games we had missed. I picked up some literature on the Stoneman Cabins at Curry and then we headed to the Ahwahnee. It was a pleasant walk, over the elevated wooden path across the meadow, past Lower Pines campground, along the Merced, up and over the bridge, through the woods, past the horses and corral, and finally picked up the site of the hotel. This all felt strangely familiar, somehow not ideal, and just a little different. It was decided that we had followed the same very indirect route on our bikes one or more times in the past.
At the Ahwahnee, we wandered through the Gift Shop, and took full advantage of their indoor plumbing. It was close enough to lunch time, so we decided to eat and have a cocktail. Over our cocktails, we committed to doing better and finding a more direct route to and fro as we imagined a return trip may make the agenda.
While walking back to camp, we realized for perhaps the 4th or 5th time the source of the confusion. Two bridges, almost identical, both crossing the Merced, not far from each other, but at completely different angles as the river meanders through the upper valley. We needed to go left at the first bridge and then cross the other, at which the meadow in front of the Ahwahnee begins. We had been crossing the first bridge, bringing us further upstream and away from the Ahwahnee, allowing our thirst to rage before finally reaching the bar. This course correction could have dramatic impacts on future trips, if we were ever able to remember the more direct route.
By the time all this trailblazing and traipsing about had brought us back to our camp site, Mike and Sharon and Haley had arrived. The weather was holding, although the clouds were thick and growing darker. Everybody pitched in to unload and set up (at least that is what I choose to remember) and it was soon time to consider cocktails and dinner. In no time, glasses clinked together, a toast was offered, and a massive amount of food was set upon the grill – 5 trouts, 2 cheeseburgers, 3 corns, 3 squash, and 6 chickens, not to mention the potato salad, and cheese and crackers. It was an outstanding meal and a great way to celebrate being together in Yosemite Valley.
As we sat around the fire after dinner, the half-moon was putting out a ton of light. It was really bright on the ground, and the light made all the trickles and wet spots on the Glacier Point wall glisten. As the moon moved around, some bright spots faded from sight and new areas were lit up. Kristen was sure one spot spelled “YOLO” (you only live once) according to Haley. It was glorious to watch the glistening areas move and change, each getting their chance to shine and be recognized.
We decided to take a walk out to the bridge. Earlier in the day, I had imagined seeing climbers on the face of Half Dome and wanted to see if we might possibly see the light from their hammock hanging 3,000 feet above the valley floor. We didn’t see any flashlight, and I probably didn’t see any climbers earlier in the day either, but what a site we were treated to. The Royal Arches were highlighted by the moon in a perfectly soft but luminescent light. Not only could we see the moisture working its way out of the cracks and crevasses of the solid (or not so solid as it may be) granite wall, but the dark stained areas of the arches contrasted with the lighter colored (newer?) granite to make an incomprehensibly beautiful scene.
This on top of the illumination of Half Dome, just barely though as the moon wasn’t high enough to brighten its face, and wasn’t far enough West to get around its shoulder. All around us, trees, granite, the river, the bridge, receiving just enough light for us to absorb the beauty and tranquility and peace and calm and quiet. We were in awe.
Just about the time we felt like we couldn’t take any more; absolutely gorged by the incredible beauty, taking in as much as we possibly could – in our eyes, in our ears, in our noses, in our being, in our soul, cramming as much of this as possible into every cell to keep it with us, we turned to walk back and just about melted at this new vision, this other scene; Lord of the Rings, King Arthur, Fairy Tales, and epic fantasy all rolled into one. With goose bumps on the back of my neck, I spoke: “Look” I uttered and pointed to Yosemite Falls. We could stand in this point, with all this beauty in every direction, and off in the distance, by the gentle light of this half-moon, we could see Yosemite Falls pouring Yosemite Creek out of the North wall into the valley below. It was like an old black and white movie – in slow motion, dark lighting, seeming to flicker in the moment. How fortunate we were to have taken the time to take a little stroll and have all of this to experience and enjoy.
The morning may have been one of the best of my entire life. It was dark still. I am sure I woke up to pee, but I don’t remember peeing and just having a feeling that I should get up makes for a way better story. I was awake right away. I heard something, some stuff repeatedly hitting the sides of the tent – like BF was hurling poo at us. I stuck my tiny head out of the tent and once my eyes adjusted and focused, I could see that it was all white – everything. The ground, the trees, the air. This was off the charts beauty. I didn’t tell Kristen, but asked if she needed to pee. Of course she did and when she stuck her head out of the tent she squealed with delight. She didn’t take the time to put socks or long pants on to get out into it. It was awesome to see her so giddy.
I went over to Haley’s tent and clawed on the tent as I do on her door at home in the mornings to wake her up. She made some kind of mumbling grumbling noise – the kind you make when you don’t want to be awake, so I asked louder if she had to pee. Of course she said yes, and when she got out of the tent and on stable ground and cleared her eyes, she too squealed at the sight. It was so cool to be up before dawn to have it snowing these massive flake, straight down, calm and peaceful as could be, gently floating to the valley floor. The only noise was the three of us; like dancing bears, prancing about, laughing and giggling and letting flakes settle onto our tongues and in our hands, trying to soak it all in.
Haley immediately wanted to walk, so off we went, entirely unprepared, adding or changing nothing to what we left the tents with – excitedly wondering off to the road. I don’t even think they went to the bathroom. We saw a couple people in the campground, equally excited and equally joyful. The excitement rose once we got out of our loop onto the main campground road, feeling like we were away from all the sleepers. We let loose a little more as we got up to the bridge. Now we could see out across the river; every surface – rock, branch, post, grass, and bush had a few inches of snow on it. And it was still falling – giant flakes drifting so gracefully. By now dawn was approaching and the first light was coming down with the snowflakes. We were all so excited and invigorated. We had to have more.
We went back to the camp sight and got socks and pants and hats and gloves and scarves and prepared to head out again. As we were mustering in the opening outside our tents, we heard the rumbling of snow and rock tumbling down the Glacier Point wall. It was eerie and would definitely have been scary if we weren’t so taken by the falling snow and the wonderful winter scene. This was, after all, the exact location of the massive rock slide in 1996 that thrashed Happy Isles and this campground and killed a camper – in her campsite. What we heard also must have been a massive amount of material crashing down an unknown distance off the wall, an unknown distance away. Fortunately for us, it was just another wondrous event that added to the spectacle and awe of this incredible morning.
We were headed off to Curry Village for a coffee and a hot chocolate or 2, if Curry Village hadn’t been eliminated in the avalanche we heard. The few people that were up and around Curry this early in the morning were all abuzz at the snow and the scenery and the spectacle. In a few minutes they began serving breakfast so we went through the cafeteria style food court piling up French toast, pancakes, bacon, and ham. It was great fun to get a warm breakfast on a snowy morning. Full, warm, and raring to go, we needed to get back out in the snow and decided to head to the Ahwahnee. That was a magical walk – across the meadow, into the woods, along the river, over the bridge. Each area was so beautiful, covered in snow; we just tried to take it all in and fill up on this experience.
By the time we got to the Ahwahnee, I needed a breakfast drink. I was hunting for a Gin Fizz as it was still probably only 10:00 in the morning. Haley failed in her mission to find it for me, but I was able to sit on a couch in the Great Lounge and people watch. It wasn’t so early anymore and kids had already been up and out in the snow. Now some were drying clothes in the immense fireplaces. Many parents were gathered around the fireplaces too, turning gloves, corralling children, talking excitedly about their morning adventures. It was great to sit in the back of the room and be warmed by the excitement, the glow, and the beauty of the entire morning.
Admitting to the defeat of the failed Gin Fizz attempt, and being sufficiently rested and warmed (dry would have to wait some time), we began our journey back to the campground. The snow had ceased falling for the time being, but the warming air and intermittent sun was provoking clumps of snow to crash out of the trees. This made for great fun walking through the woods. We couldn’t help but shrug up our shoulders and pull our heads inside, doing the best turtle impression we could whenever we heard the sweep of the snow pass through the tree leaves and branches as it broke away, bracing for the inevitable thump as the load spanked the ground. No one was hit, directly anyway, but we laughed and laughed as they fell near , sprayed us with mist as they broke apart overhead, or splashed up from the growing pools and puddles of snowmelt.
It was tough sledding, this jaunt. Making progress was very difficult. We were surrounded, engulfed by outrageous beauty. Each of us were constantly calling out beauty scenes, showing each other what we saw, and sharing our visions. The now lightly frosted trees, the patterns on the ground, the snow bordered creek, the bridges, the rocks topped with snow like cupcakes, the incredible light; we couldn’t help but stop every few feet and take in another vision, another glowing scene, another spellbinding setting.
Back at camp, we needed fire, but it was going to be tough. Everything was not only covered in snow, but now much of the snow was melting saturating every surface. It was still spitting off and on, snow and drizzle, further soaking surfaces and necessitating cover, which also had been greatly reduced. We had cleared the snow off our tent and our canopy and Mike’s canopy before we left on our great walk. But evidently, the burden had become too much for my canopy and it had relented under the load. Looking like a Daddy Long legs the cats had “played” with, the tangled legs and arms were sad to view. Fortunately, Mike’s canopy held strong and we hunkered down under it, waiting for the sun to finally break through.
Off and on and on and off and back and forth, this cloud and sun dance went. We were antsy for the bright sun and warm rays to drive off some of the wetness and chill. But the gray overcast was thick and stubborn. Every time we saw the dampness on Glacier glisten in the sunlight and our spirits rose in anticipation of the pending illuminated, the clouds would rally to block out the sun, and dump our hopes back into the cold, wet, gray puddle of the afternoon.
Realizing we needed to take matters into our own hands, we got up the motivation to build a fire and that was good. The rain drops hissed and sizzled whenever they would hit the hot coals. It was good to just sit around the fire, drying bottoms and surfaces to sit on, staying out of the smoke, getting near the warmth of the flames, chatting and just being together in Yosemite Valley.
After a bit, the lack of sleep caught up to me. I was really dragging so we decided to have a nap. I felt bad leaving Haley out by herself, but she grabbed her book and fed the fire and hung out while the adults napped. It was short, but oh so sweet. What a huge difference just a little down time can make. Upon arising from our dens, we found Haley hadn’t been eaten by bears or drug off by Big Foot, so that was good. It was still spitting rain, then mist, then a tiny patch of blue, then clouds, then you could see the sun, then a shadow then dark gray and drizzle. We couldn’t make up our minds what to do and the weather couldn’t make up its mind what to do, so we were all kind of unsettled and a little jittery.
We figured the best place for us was back at Curry. We had had enough of sitting on the edge of our seats and staring skyward, hoping and willing the sun to burst through. It was way too nerve wracking. Getting inside would give us a chance to relax, get warmed up and dry, and enjoy ourselves. There was decent food, plenty of drinks, and probably a game to watch on the TV. When we got to the Curry parking lot, I was concerned that we might not find a seat, or get served, or be able to enjoy ourselves. It first appeared that everyone else had the same idea by this time in the late afternoon. I remembered when we were here for Niners games or the Giants playoffs and World Series games; it was often really crowded.
This time proved no different. There were already lots of people sitting out in the dining area, but few in the bar. Just as we got in, a few folks left and we nabbed great seats right in front of the TVs. We weren’t there 15 minutes when some big headed yahoo came in asking if seats were taken and asking people to move around so he and his 20 close friends could have all the good seats for the Warriors game. He asked Kristen if we were staying and she made him aware that we had just arrived. He didn’t approach our group again, but he offered 2 other couples dinner if they would move and coerced others to go away.
We decided on drinks and pizza and after learning that the Warriors game was just about to begin, we were feeling real good. Warmer and dry, well my feet were totally wet but getting warmer, drinks, playoff basketball on the TV, surrounded by friends, wife, daughter and a bunch of happy people. This was good. The pizza was exceptionally good – I really think it was, and didn’t just taste good because we were out of the wet and cold. The game was good – Warriors won and won the first round series with New Orleans; the guys friends finally showed up so he was happy, a bit of a loud tool, but they were happy, even though they were kind of douche about being reprimanded for jumping on the stuffed bear. We were all dry and warm and full and happy by the time we left to go back to camp. It wasn’t that late, but I couldn’t wait to put my head down and rest and hopefully sleep well after this phenomenal day.
It rained pretty good again that night. The morning was gray and overcast, but no rain. We had a good breakfast and lots of coffee around the fire. It began to drizzle off and on so we were not sure what to do. We decided to waddle over to Curry for showers. We hung inside after and looked at the massive photos of Curry of yesteryear. There were several images of the Firefalls and photos of the guy that yelled up to Glacier Point, “Let the fire fall”. My mom said that the first neighbor she had at Nazareth House when she first moved in used to be that guy. He also played the piano and sang. I figured these photos were not of him, but probably the original Mr. Curry. Mom’s neighbor might have been one of the last guys to do it. I believe the last Firefall was in 1968. I was lucky enough to see it as a little kid, but I still don’t know why they yell out “Elmer” before and after the Falls and randomly at night – must have been a gag years ago that a few of the old timers carried on.
We wandered about a little, asked about the cabins and such. Mike grabbed some ice on our way back. It had cleared by then and the weather was looking good so K and I walked back to camp. Mike and Sharon wanted to see the Ahwahnee so we decided to meet over there in an hour or so. K and I got on our bikes for the first and only time for the trip, kind of a tradition now, but at least we did ride them to the Ahwahnee, also a growing tradition. We meandered a bit farther into Yosemite Village. Checked out the cemetery and had a real nice lady, an employee, suggest we get the self-guided brochure so we know what we are looking at. She showed us the marker for one of the first superintendents whose name escapes me now. We will have to return to do that someday, but for now, we had to settle for riding up around the housing and looking at some of the old cabins and such. Before long, it was time to meet Mike and Sharon.
We got a great table outside on the patio. I wanted to stay in the sun to warm up and absorb some rays. The other 3 wanted to stay in the shade and all were happy. It was the typical scene back there. The lawn was full of kids running and babies tumbling and groups big and small gathering for photos. Some people were really dressed up and others had just finished long hikes and big rides. One of the beauties of Yosemite; for all the fancy people and big money flaunted around, especially at the Ahwahnee, preference is still given to nature and those who get out into it. John Muir and Teddy Roosevelt and the climbers and explorers and naturalists still maintain top billing. It hasn’t become another Disneyland or WallyWorld yet.
We ordered drinks and a few appetizers that were delicious. We relaxed and enjoyed being together and at the Ahwahnee and out on the patio among all the beautiful people. A community orchestra from Mariposa was playing in the Grand Lounge which was cool to hear, but sort of a bummer as the audience took up the entire room and then some – probably 150 chairs set up for the recital, so Mike and Sharon couldn’t get in there to see the displays and paintings, and the Winter Room, and the tapestries and the sun room at the end. They are so spectacular. They were able to stick their heads in the dining room and look around to get a feel for the place. Hopefully they will come back to enjoy it even more some other day.
Sitting out on the patio never gets old. It feels so special. I will never forget seeing Inga, her sister and her husband there a few years back. All of a sudden, out of the blue, here she is standing right next to our table looking up at the architecture of the hotel. We shared a laugh and a hug and a happy memory. Stuffed like little piggies, it was time to head back to camp and start dinner. It was awesome weather now, clear, calm, warm, but not hot. We could have ridden our bikes a lot more, but it was getting late and sitting around the campfire sounded real good. The trip was winding down; Haley had already gone, but the weather was vastly improving and we were just hitting our Yosemite groove. A mellow evening around the camp would be a fine ending to the trip.
Gorged from eating as many left overs as possible, I could hardly stay upright in my chair. Mike was pointing out constellations and planets and such in the evening sky, making it all the more difficult to stay erect. It was fun to listen to Mike talk about the stars, and space stuff, and the looming trip to Mars – not for him, or Sharon, but for a lucky bunch of other folks. Being clean and stuffed, and a little melancholy at the end of the trip, I slept soundly and awoke early. It was calm, quiet and cool. A good fire was soon ablaze with the last of my kindling and paper and torn paper bag I would religiously fill with fine Cedar kindling each evening and stick in the truck to stay dry. Mike made a great pot of coffee and we warmed up our bagels, ham and cream cheese. We had a lovely morning, until we had to start the inevitable organizing, condensing, and packing. I had to make the walk of shame to the dumpsters with my crumpled tangle of soccer tent frame. Not in a hurry, we barely made the check-out time.
After saying goodbyes to Mike and Sharon, we used several ready-made excuses not to leave quite yet. K had wanted to see the chapel, so we made a left turn on the way out to return to the valley floor and stopped on the way in to visit the chapel and take a few pictures. The chapel just happens to be directly opposite Yosemite Falls, across a beautiful meadow and the oaks and Cottonwoods growing along the river’s edge that meanders across it. The falls were a little beefed up from the rain and the melting snow from the higher elevations as a result of the weather we had earlier in the week. All you could see of the snow now was slight dustings at the very tops or protected north-facing crevices; but all of the precipitation was now feeding the falls and they were magnificent.
We remembered that we should look for or ask about my beanie that I may have left at Curry when we were watching the Warriors game, so we drove on into the upper end of the valley back to Curry. We asked around and a couple super nice guys looked for us and brought out the lost and found box, but no beanie was found. By now it was lunch time, so we figured we should stay for lunch. We ordered sandwiches and a burger from the little walk up snack bar attached to the deck outside the grocery store. I ordered cocktails and illegally walked them around the corner to our lunch table. It was a spectacular Monday in Yosemite; very few people, spectacular weather, all was good and right in this valley of the world.
One of the managers that helped us look for the beaning stopped at our table to ask if we had found it. We were worried he might say something about the drinks, but he didn’t. We just had a nice talk and a few laughs; shared a couple things about ourselves and wished each other well. It was just a nice encounter/interaction – the kind we often have in Yosemite, and probably often have whenever people are on vacation. It is a good feeling. We were out of excuses not to leave, or at least knew we shouldn’t keep coming up with them anymore, so off we went. Hoping to see a coyote on our way out, we kept our eyes peeled. We passed so many sights and memories on our way out, holding hands, grateful to have had another opportunity to be here. It was a great trip.
On the way home, I wanted to take a couple roads we saw on the map, but hadn’t been on. I believe my hand-drawn map was burned in the final fire making effort, and these roads were not big enough to make the big map, so by the seat of my pants for the most part, we turned right onto Ward’s Ferry Road out of Bug Oak Flat. Our confidence flagged quickly as a fork in the road was entirely up to us to choose. Fortunately, we got strong indications we had selected incorrectly before too long from the mail boxes, while indicating numerous road names, none of them were the one we needed. Back we went, after a beverage for improved navigation, and selecting the other fork, to quickly realize this too was not going to be a short cut.
The Tuolumne River was a mile below us, the switch backs were getting shorter and shorter, and I was already tired of making turns. The pavement needed and the efficiency of a narrow dirt road was quickly imprinted upon us both. It took us forever to get down to the bridge and then that turned out not to even be the bridge, which is hard to do considering the gorge is only about 100’ across from wall to wall and the riverbed cannot be any wider than 50’ across. What we first crossed was perhaps a side gorge crossing before hitting the main channel of the river. I was too exhausted to really take note and the road was too narrow to make stopping for a rest and to look about a solid option. On up we went, perhaps the scariest road I have ever driven on. It was steep, narrow, and one hell of a long way down to any point where you might stop rolling. I was gripping tightly, when of course, we met another rig. Fortunately, he was also driving slowly and we met at a good spot and easily passed, but OMG, what a drive.
Find this Spot
Yosemite National Park Photo Gallery
