Yosemite - Part 3

Ellery and Tioga lakes are semi-frozen and glistening beneath peaks and domes of rock.

We picnic and play ‘Guess the jelly bean flavours’ as we sun ourselves on the rocks at Tuolumne Meadows and startle the fish as we stepping-stone across the river.

Walking up to Cathedral Lakes through the trees, I keep a lookout for bears while Him Outdoors is overwhelmed by the sheer amount of scenery.









I love the big rock faces with large boulders on them that must have come down in floods or avalanches and are now left abandoned behind.

I also love the fact that they are called, 'erratic boulders' which conjures up notions of them nipping off to raves and behaving irresponsibly when no one’s watching.

We walk up and run back down – the huffing and puffing and shuddering should scare away any bears, or make them wet their fuzzy pants as they grown to each other, ‘I thought I was a big lumbering beast – have you seen that?’







There are reflections in Tenaya Lake and a glorious pink light over Half Dome. Glacial erratic boulders abound as we pile out of the car at Olmsted Point to take photos and a bloke tells us proudly of his eight-hour walk earlier in the day, pointing out the peaks he has encountered. A sign says ‘Watch for Rocks’ – Him Outdoors and I say simultaneously, “There’s one!” How childish!

Dark descends as we drive out of the park and come to Buck Meadows on the edge. We check into a motel and continue our American culinary experience with a meatball sandwich for me and a chiliburger for Him Outdoors.

I have a Fat Tire Amber Ale, which is nutty and malty, while Him Outdoors tries the Sierra Nevada Pale Ale. They come in frosted schooners which are way too cold and turn the beer to slush – it’s much more palatable when it warms up.

Walking back to the motel, we are accompanied by the clear night sky. The starts are so beautiful; forgive me for sounding like an old hippy, but the Northern Hemisphere constellations are like dear friends. Hello Great Bear.

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…

Road trip: San Francisco – Oakhurst

We have breakfast with Our Gracious Hostess at Stacks – American diners for breakfast are such a treat for me! I love the eggs, the pancakes, the waffles and the endless cups of black filter coffee. I have huevos rancheros which are delicious – I’m getting my fix of Mexican foods.

We call into a Barnes and Noble (not so counter my principles in their own country) for a new diary and another book that I’m pretty sure I don’t need. There is an entire industry here – part of me loves it (books are beautiful) while part of me is slightly saddened at the thought of middle-aged women (the major book market) using bookmarks, catalogues and inspirational quotes to fill their otherwise empty lives. And yes, I am part of that demographic.

Setting off on our adventures, the first thing we encounter is a child abduction notice on the freeway with the make of the car and licence plate numbers up on the overhead signs. We drive from San Francisco through to Yosemite noticing oddities along the way such as Halloween decorations, which are everywhere – this is clearly a very big deal here. Pumpkin patches support giant, mutant pumpkins.

American radio plays a variety of music: one channel plays an homage to New Kids on the Block; another plays Linken Park and other X-Games music. There is jazz, blues, classics (which appears to be The Beatles and Chicago), Spanish fiesta music (which sounds like Captain Pugwash), climb-every-mountain anthems, and a lot of country. Just like the television – so many channels; same old shite. Quantity does not equal quality.

Every pick-up in town is parked outside Cost Less Liquors. Other shops include House of Beef Steakhouse, Whiskey River Saloon, Feed and Seed, Long’s Drugs – Drive Thru Pharmacy (if you’re too ill to get out of the car, should you really be driving?), Buckston’s Western Gear (get your Stetsons and spurs here), Claim Jumper Outpost (‘free soda with fill up’), Tie Dye Jerky – elk or buffalo. All of these are to be found at Big Oak Flat, elevation 3,000ft, population 200.

Just past the Mark Twain/Brent Hart trail is 49 acres of barren scrubland for sale – it probably comes with free rattlesnakes. There are trailer parks (sorry, mobile home camps) and motel rooms for $49.95 next to a ‘gentleman’s club’. Nice. I’d be surprised to see a gentleman here at Chinese Camp.

A town advertises itself with the draw cards of food, espresso, clean bathrooms and raft trips. Groveland features the red earth and saloon doors of gold mining towns, complete with the Iron Door General Store. The roads are supported by an Adopt-a-Highway programme, which makes sure the road verges are kept litter-free. Sponsors include Dave and Son Automotive, Buck and Bunny, and the Coronary Improvement Programme.

We check into a motel in Oakhurst – the Yosemite Inn is ‘the last hotel in town’ and boasts ‘free HBO and breakfast.’ We walk to a Mexican restaurant for dinner, clinging to the side of the road as lorries hurtle past – this is obviously not a walking area. The food is okay (I discover tamales are stodgy corn-flour steamed nastiness) but I have a Sierra Nevada Pale Ale which is very tasty. It is a light gold colour with lazy bubbles and a decent head at first which quickly dissolves into a dishwater scum. It leaves a sediment behind but tastes perfectly balanced between bitter hops and sweet malt.