Yosemite - Part 2

Because of last night’s snow many of the roads are closed but we are able to see ‘the big trees’. Our Gracious Hosts arrived last night, so in the morning we all head off for a walk to Mariposa Grove where the giant sequoia trees grow.

These beautiful natural creations need fire to regenerate – a fact which was noticed by accident after many years of park protection when the rangers couldn’t work out why they weren’t growing. Now controlled burn-offs help these trees to germinate – this doesn’t mean they all start turning German, but the fires clear away the competing firs and cedars, and expose bare mineral soil for the seeds to take root. Only one in a million seeds takes hold and the trees only shed them once every two years – they’re not great odds. Nature can be tough!

The fabulous red trunks with their massive girth are almost too big to photograph, so Our Gracious Hostess and I play at taking macro shots of massive pine cones and bark patterns while chipmunks chatter from atop blackened tree stumps, fiercely protecting their secret stash of pine nuts.

An enormous tree has fallen on its side but used to be a tunnel. Jean and Mark carved their names into it in 1971, presumably when it was still standing. I wonder if their love is still as steadfast.

We drive to the valley floor where we attempt a scramble to the base of El Capitan. The marker says 0.3 miles but we instantly stray off the track and end up scrambling much further and higher across big boulders warmed by the sun. Climbers abseil and swing out from the cliff face, their whoops of abandon echoing around the valley.

Our Gracious Hosts’ eldest scrambles up like a little mountain goat, then Him Outdoors carries him back down on his shoulders because his little legs are weary. The view from beneath El Capitan is immense – that is one big lump of rock!

As the light plays over the rock, the view changes dramatically with gold and pinks entering the picture. John Muir sums it up succinctly – “It is by far the grandest of all the special temples of Nature I was ever permitted to enter.”

The trout that I have for dinner at the Wawona Lodge is some of the best fish I’ve ever tasted. I love the 1900s dining room with the lampshades featuring pictures of sequoia trees and pine cones dangling from the corners. People bask in comfy armchairs before a crackling fire with books and glasses of wine – fabulous stuff!

Yosemite - Part 1

Entering Yosemite National Park several signs warn that 'Speeding Kills Bears'. Despite the obvious quip that perhaps they should slow down a bit, these signs are apparently placed in every spot where a bear has actually been hit, which is pretty serious. As bears generally avoid roads and people it would also suggest that there are a lot of bears in them thar hills.

Yosemite is as beautiful as ever but cold – well, we are up at 4,00ft. At this time of year the streams and waterfalls are pretty empty, and Bridalveil Falls are slightly less than spectacular as the strong swirling winds blow the water back over the tops. The surrounding lumps of rock more than make up for it.


El Capitan (not Steven Gerard this time) has people hanging off the side of it as they shimmy up the sheer rock face. Those who have only made it half-way will have to bivvy out on a ledge tonight, which may not be much fun as high winds and cold temperatures are forecast. A couple on their 19 year anniversary hand us a pair of binoculars so we can spy on the rock rats.

We drive through the valley impressed by all the scenery, but it is simply too big to fit into our photos. The Ansel Adams gallery has great examples of how it’s done properly. His black and white prints are magical and they look good in full-size format. He writes, ‘Yosemite Valley, to me, is always a sunrise, a glitter of green and golden wonder in a vast edifice of stone and space.’ Books tell you where and how to take the best nature pictures, but I’ll leave that to the experts.

It starts to snow and all the wardens and rangers are thrilled, skipping about with excitement. This makes for an interesting drive back through the valley past trees and mountains that have disappeared although we know they’re out there. A deer tiptoes daintily across the road with her two calves.

The snow picks out features and contours like a negative shade, outlining and highlighting like a child’s drawing when they’ve run out of dark-hued crayons. The setting sun filters through the snow tingeing the clouds and trees pink. So it really does happen; perhaps the Magic Roundabout script writers weren’t all on drugs afterall. But then again…