Dad and Yosemite: Part 2

DAY 80 - Domes

1:00 AM.

I woke up.

I had found that the smaller my clothes bag got (my pillow) the easier it was for me to wake up in the night. At home, in normal society, where I have two full sized pillows, I don't wake up in the middle of the night.

But was it the pillow or was it the "HELP!" I heard in the distance.

Was that what I heard? Sometimes, I had observed, the woods played tricks on my ears.

"HELP!!!!"

No, that was no trick, that was a distinctive and clear "help." A woman's voice at that.

"HELP!!!!!!!!!"

"Dad!" I hissed through the lightweight fabric of my tent wall, "Dad!"

"Yeah?" I got a groggy respose.

"Do you hear that?" I frantically asked.

"yeah." he replied in a lethargic and disconcerted tone, as I was sure he fell right back to sleep.

"HELP!!!!"

She couldn't be more than .25 miles away. I could run that in probably 2 minutes. I threw my rainjacket on thanks to the moonlight slightly lighting my tent.

Why was Dad completely unconcerned? The voice seemed helpless, if I was making a noise and a cry like that, well I would probably be in a real tight spot.

"HELP!!!!"

The hairs on my arms began to stand on end as I started furiously tearing my backpack apart in search of my headlamp...this WOULD be the one night that I didn't put my headlamp in the little hanging net inside my tent!

"HEEELLP!"

Maybe she had gone to the bathroom, tripped in the dark on her way back and fallen badly? Maybe she had heard a bear and was scared? Or worst of all...maybe it's because I'm a woman, but I thought "what if someone is trying to take advantage of her?" The cry was frightened.

"HELP!!!!"

My rumaging finally availed!

I clicked the light on and unzipped my vestibule.

But then, I didn't hear anything.

No more cries. No more clues to tell me which direction to head, just the morbid silence of a quiet forest occasionally ruffled by a stealthy breeze.

I prayed to God that she was okay. Whoever she was, wherever she was.

I clicked my light off as I listened for the faintest cry or whimper.

I took my rainjacket off and laid back down.

But it wasn't my undersized pillow that kept me from quickly falling back to sleep...it was my mind going over and over the unknown scenarios that could have happened to the girl...I told myself she was okay, that she was probably a silly girl who couldn't find her way back to the tent after getting out to pee.

But I still hoped someone had helped.

- - - - -


In the morning we packed our bags and headed downhill towards the Half Dome turnoff.

We found a nice spot to set up Dad's pop-up tent so we could stow everything except for my backpack with only some water, food, and of course my camera inside.

As we were stashing our stuff a peachy park ranger came up to us to ask if we had had any bear reportings or problems. Though Dad really wanted to see a bear he hadn't had the good fortune of seeing one. I was fine with not seeing any bears...I just was just thinking of the safety of my food.

I mentioned the girl screaming help. The ranger reported that someone else had said the same thing.

Dad said, "that wasn't a cat screeching?"

"no that was distinctively a woman's voice, yelling help!" I said.

"I thought it was a cat!"

Well, at least everything made sense. Had Dad known it was a human being he would have jumped up as well.

The ranger was able to answer a burning question that I had had for weeks. Throughout many forests I had heard a low pitched, quite, and strange "Wob wob wob wob.". I thought it was the trees, someone else had thought it was an elk, another person thought it to be a bear. It was a mystery until the sweet park ranger told us it was a grouse. (Definition: grouse 1. any of numerous gallinaceous birds of the subfamily Tetraoninae. Compare: black grouse, capercaillie, ruffed grouse, spruce grouse.)

Anyway, we pressed on and started the vigillant march up towards the granite dome.

We passed people even more out of breath and sweaty than us.

We made it to a spot with a good view of the dome...




...then we walked closer...




...and climbed up a mass of granite stairs...




...and there were more stairs, which help keep my glutes and quads in a constant burning mode...




...and at last we made it to the subdome...the dome like spot directly below the metal cables that led to the top of the half dome...




We had a little snack break and then got in line for the cable haul. I felt like we were at Disney World on a holiday. The cables on half done had just been put up. On the weekends one had to have a permit to climb up but Monday thru Thursday it was a free for all. It was Monday, and every Tom, Dick, and Harry was clambouring to scurry up to the top of this rock.

It did make stopping to take pictures easy, because I was stopped 75% of the time. See here:













Though it took a short lifetime to get to the top, (almost an hour) and my ungloved hands were getting tired of gripping the metal cables, it was rather fun. Walking almost horizontally against the near vertical rock was a treat for me. Okay, had there been snow and ice on it I probably would have been crying, but it was dry, smooth and moisture free!

We made it to the top and Boy Howdy was it nice up there:
















I made my dad take a leisure girl picture of me as I went to the "diving board" of the halfdome and stepped out to join the landscape.




(poooooor quality pic, see he took it with my "real" camera and it looks great, but to post on le blog I need a picture on my iPhone, so I took a picture of the picture as displayed on my camera's display screen)

As I stood near the edge I wondered if anyone had ever jumped off, not in a base jumping way, but to one's demise. It made me a little dizzy to think about.

So I climbed down to let the next narcissistic person, desperate for a photo-op, have a chance at frozen glory.

Dad and I enjoyed a bit more food before leaving the top of the giant rock to get back in line for another wait, this time to descend. I tried to convince dad that we needed to walk down on the outside of the cables, then we'd zip by everyone. But he wouldn't have it. So I got a few snaps going down. Of pops...




...and of strangers.




We made it to the ground and shuffled back down the granite staircase, back along the steep trail, past hot and tired people still walking towards the dome, and over to our stash spot, which honestly was a really lovely spot with a relatively tame amount of mosquitoes, so we decided to stay.




(our campsite with a view down the valley and towards the halfdome)

Below us a father, son, and hiking guide camped. After we ate dinner we went down and listened to the guide talk of the intelligence of Yosemite bears, until the mosquitoes became relentless, at which point we bid the campers goodnight and headed to our own tents.


DAY 81 - Human Contact

I had seen many people as Dad and I had climbed up Halfdome, but it was nothing compared to the onslaught of clambering tourists that I was about to face head on as the heart of the valley, with showers and food, came closer and closer.

Every person we passed smelled good, wafts of "clean human" smell pummeled my nostrils. Partly it was the fact that I smelled bad, therefore I could easily smell the good in others. But there was also the fact that every single sense (even the 6th sense) was becoming more acute as I stayed in the woods. I could smell the slightest hint of Irish Spring on a male from 50 yards away and the Aveda shampoo on a female from a similar distance. Everyone smelled fresh and clean, and I felt like a freak for taking deep breaths every time a person walked by. They didn't smell as amazing as wildflowers and fresh little blossoms on trees but they smelled infinitly better than me. But we were headed down down down into the valley, towards showers, so we could smell just like them.

We passed mule trains with supplies...




...falls with dire warnings...




...and I wondered how many people had tried to go over the falls...




...we continued by misty pathways...




...and steeped ourselves right into the heart of tourism in Yosemite...



Here families snapped pictures, babies cried, children whined of being tired after the uphill trudge, out-of-shape patrons of the park made sour faces as they plodded forward (reminding me of how I felt at the beginning of my hike), and in general everyone looked hot, tired, and miserable...except for the "say cheese" moments or for the in-shape hiker folks or for the few downhill Trekkers like ourselves. This was the highest concentration of people I had seen in a long while.

We made it to the valley and swiftly made haste towards the showers. Dad took even longer than me, but soon we were standing in lines to purchase non-trail food like tacos, pizza, and ice cream. But lines, oh lines, how I had been spoiled over the last few months of little towns with few people.

Once filled up with calories we hopped on a small series of free shuttle buses to reach the el capitan picnic area. We walked back to the road and stuck out our thumbs. We had decided that hitching would be the most preferable way to get to back to our car at Tuolumne Meadows.

Ned was our first of two rides, in a little four door sedan with good music flowing from the speakers. He worked at Yosemite, leading hikes and teaching about the wilderness and the land. Having realized he didn't want to use his degree in the sciences as a way to keep himself cooped up in a lab, he came to work here, in a hands on fashion where he could teach, explore, and learn.

"It just took my parents a while to see the validity in my job. That it is worth it. But they understand now," he said.

I'm glad my parents have long been supportive of my not so profitable career desires, monitarily that is.

Ned wasn't going back up highway 120, so he dropped us off at a great place to try to get hitch number 2.

I continued to smile and wave at every passerby trying to invoke sympathy while simultaneously showing the potentional drivers that we were friendly, not formidable.

We got ride two, which took us straight to our car. A maintenance man from Yosemite Valley happily on his way towards a week of vacation. He told us tidbits about the park as we made our way along scenic 120, landing right back in front of the little Saturn.

We got to the car and quickly hopped in.

See, our park pass was going to expire that day, you can get out of the park with an expired ticket, but not back in (technically, but I found a loop hole) and I really wanted to go to Hetch Hetchy, the one part of the park that you had to go in and out of the park to get to. So we got in and zipped back down 120.

However, we had a distraction at the gas station. A bear was munching on greens in the field abiding nearby. Dad needed a snap. So I handed him my camera (his got broken! Sad!) and I sat in the car. I had just been in the woods for a week so I felt entitled to some serious sitting.

Cars were parking all around, boys with AE t-shirts on and girls with big sunglasses and short shorts were going to have a look and snap a pic as well. I'm sure they looked at me and thought, "OMG, that girl with a really stained dress is being totally lazy, I mean there's a cute fuzzy bear gnoshing on some greens in the little field below."




(me in the car, not caring what anyone else thought)

Dad successfully completed his picture taking mission and we were off to hetch hetchy!

The drive was amazing. The sun was setting, the lanscape was becoming soft and monotone with hints of pink left in the sky. The road was curvy and the air was temperate, perfect for rolled down windows.

We made it to the entrance with an hour to spare. So we continued along the road until we reached the reservoir.

35 minutes left, I only had 10 minutes to soak up the goodness. Was it worth it? Yes. It ended up being one of my favorite places in Yosemite.

Even with the thundering waterfall the reservoir created it seemed quite, and it was void of people.

Beautiful and still and the perfect amalgamation of nature and mankind's presence:











We hopped in the car and zoomed back to the hetch hetchy entrance before they locked us in.

We stopped on the way back at a restaurant that looked, from the outside, like it would be cheap and good. But once we crept nearer we realized it would be $$$ and good. So I only ended up only using the toilet, which I was pleased to see was a half flush/whole flush toilet.

Then we made our way back to the park. Driving in after 10pm, we took the car to some random trailhead, turned off the lights and just slept in the car.


DAY 82 - The Auto Tour and Barney Fife

Since we were in the car we woke up and just started driving at the crack of dawn. Glacier point would probably look lovely in the early morning light.

It took us forever to get there because of construction that seemed to be rather poorly organized. But as soon as we arrived, and I came back from using a foul/detestable/repulsive outhouse, a group of hang gliders arrived.

So after looking at pretty views and taking note of the mountains with great names, I watched the hang gliders, as they waited for approval from the park, readied themselves, and ran off the cliff, harnessed to magical wings that took them into the glorious golden atmosphere dripping with eye candy...



...It was so graceful and so close to human flight, I wanted to cry and to fly at the same time.

After becoming envious of the hang gliders, and after noticing this great photo on one of those informative signs...



...Dad and I got back in the car and headed to the Sequoia grove where we walked through giant trees and took pictures of each other looking rather dwarfed by the massive trees.

We headed back to the valley where we just missed getting to see my cousin and her family because one of us was always without reception. But we visited the last few sights of the valley, such as el capitan...



...before heading down 120...


...to go to the PCT so Dad could have a walk on it, and we could camp right off of it.

We put our extra food in a bear locker, and drove over to the PCT/Glen Aulin Trail head. But it said no overnight parking. We were a little confused, so we waited to ask a ranger, who was giving a ticket to a park speeder...that should have been our warning sign to not talk to this dude.

So we asked him, simple question, where was the nearest overnight parking. He tried to tell us it was miles away...which wasn't true (we had parked a mile or so away for about a week). We should have said thank you and walked away, but we tried to explain.

So then he asked to see our permit. Once he saw it he said, "Oh you can't camp here anyway, see your entrance and exit on your permit don't include this area. Now you young lady can camp here because of your PCT permit, but not you sir."

We tried to explain that there was a missunderstanding, because the ranger who had given us the permit said it was fine (which was true).

"Well you all are adults, you can make your own choice, but if one of my colleagues or I see you up here I can't say we won't sight you!" he said with a tone of highly annoying authority. I wished at that moment that I was wearing my sunglasses, because it was hard to keep from glaring. "See we give out a certain amount of permits for each area, they might have given them all out, and we are trying to keep areas from being over trampled!"

I wanted to ask, "How come any day hiker (you don't need a permit to day hike) that wants to hike around can trample the paths without consequence?" but I held my tongue.

Come on! We were going to walk like two miles and stealth camp! Grumble, grumble!

So the ranger left us in bad moods as he triumphantly strode back to his squad car with an overconfident stride, a tacky mustache, and a buzzkill of an attitude.

I was somewhere between annoyed and furious and Dad seemed pretty pissed (a rarity).

Dad didn't want to risk "Barney Fife" coming back around this way so I suggested we walk on a different area of the PCT where Barney Fife wouldn't look. Long story short I threatened to no eat dinner because I was angry and we ended up "day hiking" to the soda springs on the PCT...


...and we took pictures of Tuolumne Meadows...


...then we went back to the original place we had parked and began hiking. We hiked down the trail past the no camping signs. Once we were a short ways down the trail we found flat spot, and I made some dinner after all.

I wasn't going to let Ranger "my-britches-are-too-tight" spoil the trip for any more minutes. Besides, we were going to leave first thing in the morning, and I probably would never see him again. He would just spend the rest of the summer asserting his power over the common man in Yosemite. I would be skipping ahead, north, outside his grasp.


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