The Good Life in Yosemite

I penned this post up a couple days ago, before I discovered the secret lair of unsecured wi-fi access here in Yosemite Valley. I'm working on the post for today and yesterday, which will be a masterful work of prose. Probably.

Anyway, here's my now-posted entry for June 2:

It’s been a slow day. Because I did not have the foresight to reserve lodging at Yosemite two years ago (or whatever ridiculous advance reservation time is required), I had no option but to gut it out with the other poor schmucks in “Camp 4” – the only non-reservation campsite available in Yosemite Valley (and this time of year, the only one in the entire park). Up bright and early this morning, I was at the campground ten minutes before it opened – which put me behind the line of two dozen people who had beaten me to the punch. I was able to snag a spot without any problems, but the line moved at a rate of speed normally reserved for glaciers and tectonic plates. It was after 10am before I got my spot, and almost noon before I had my tent set up and everything that could possibly be considered edible safely locked up in the bear box.

Well, half a day is better than nothing. I’ll be making attempts up El Capitan and Half Dome in the next couple days, and both peaks involve hiking on the order of 16 miles (round trip) and over 3,000 feet of vertical. It’s probably good that I rest up today. I’ve taken advantage of my newfound free time by leisurely exploring the valley, visting the obligatory museum/visitor’s center, and stealing electricity (although I’m staying with all the other low-lives in the squalor of Camp 4, the nearby area is home to numerous hotels and lodges. I’ve discovered a spot in the lobby with a comfy chair and an electrical outlet, and so long as the place remains busy, the helpful staff will not realize my heinous crime). I also took a quick dip in the Merced river, which is about as cold as water gets. After just a minute in the water, my feet were numb and my balls had migrated to somewhere in the vicinity of my neck. After the initial shock was over, however, I realized how perfectly clean and clear the water was. I’m sure I’ll get my balls to drop back down eventually…

It has been a couple days since my last post, so here’s a quick adventure recap:

1) When getting into my car in the motel parking lot on Saturday morning, my wallet dropped onto the ground. I realized this…one hour and fifty miles later, when I stopped for gas and promptly had a massive panic attack as I considered the very real ramifications of losing my driver’s license, money, and credit cards…with no place to stay. Luckily, I found my wallet – two hours later – in the exact place I had dropped it – and fully intact, except for my credit cards looking somewhat worse after having been run over by my car.
2) When I was driving back to the motel, I almost hit a small goat that had somehow escaped from it’s goat-pen and was wandering about the road. An hour later, in the opposite direction but now with my wallet, I saw the same goat…dead in the middle of the road. I suppose that it was a foregone conclusion that a lost little goat would not survive outside of its pen…and that there wasn’t anything I could have done to prevent it’s death (my car was completely full, though I suppose I could have pulled over, gained the goat’s trust, picked it up, sat it in my lap in the car, and driven around until I found a goat farm) – but I still felt somehow responsible.
3) I went hiking around the Hetch Hetchy reservoir in the afternoon, and ran into two separate bears within the span of about an hour. The first was in the spray-mist of a waterfall, perched on some wet rocks, completely soaked by the waterfall, and looking as miserable as a bear can look. The second was rooting about in some bushes when I spooked it coming up the trail. I normally announce my presence in bear country by singing – my rendition of Foreigner’s “Hot Blooded” can scare off all wildlife within a half-mile radius – but in this case I was between songs and moving rather quickly and quietly. Some of you may be familiar with my tales of bear-encounters; these two bring my lifetime bear record to 4 wins, 0 losses, and 1 tie.
4) After my wallet-delayed start, I didn’t attempt to make it into the park; instead, I set up my tent in a small campground in the Stanislaus National Forest about 20 miles away. There, I met and made friends with the other camp denizens: Beth, a gregarious tree-hugger; Larry, a Harley-riding trucker from Pennsylvania; and Tomas, a German engineer who was in San Francisco for a conference and had taken the liberty to visit Yosemite. We bonded over a mutual love of cheap beer and a campfire, and Larry regaled me of tales from his youth, many of which involved weed and jail time. They were good stories. I ran into Tomas the next day (i.e., today), and he will be joining me for my ascent up El Capitan tomorrow morning. It should be fun.

One final note: Yosemite is absolutely breathtaking. Every time I look up and see the falls, I’m awestruck by them. I’ll need to be careful, or else I’ll wind up with several hundred pictures of the falls, all from oh-so-slightly different angles. Which may not be a particularly bad thing.

Coming soon: big hikes*, big mountains, more freezing-cold river dips, and my journey south to the Mariposa Sequoia grove.

Note to would-be hikers: nothing beats Frito-Lay brand “barbecue-ish flavored, oil-and-salt encrusted corn chunx” for hiking food. A single bag can be easily crammed into your pack, contains 1600 calories of corn oil-based goodness, and at $2.69/bag, gives you more salt and calories for your money than any other product. Like their slogan says, “they’re edible!”

-Dave