Half a Dome and a Whole Lot of Trees
A Firework-free Fourth of July
A narrow road winds its way up the sides of mountains, bridging the gap between the Mono Basin and Yosemite valley. Our vans weaved their way up the curvy roads, breezing past overlooks with views only a tiny fraction as beautiful as those that soon silenced a slew of conversation. As we entered into Yosemite National Park the landscape changed colors, greens now dominated the area. Lakes and streams were bordered by tall pines and bristly shrubs. In front of us laid a vast expanse of gray mountain peaks. Anticipation coursed through me. This was a place I’d dreamed of going to for years: the natural cathedrals of North America.
Pulling off into a cliff side parking lot, we lathered up with sunscreen and stepped out into the summer air. White puffs of cloud littered the deep blue sky. Speckled with splotchy green vegetation, mountains spanned as far as we could see, some ridge-like and pointed, others rounded and stout. Our first stop gave us an opportunity to scramble up a light gray slope, smoothed by glacial movement thousands of years ago. From the top, views of Yosemite’s famous half dome pales in comparison to the scene that lay below. A bright blue lake filled the valley between several small peaks. Pine trees, which carpeted the area around the lake was turned to grass by our high elevation.
As we turned back toward half dome, Julie called us over and began explaining the park’s geological history. She pointed out that half dome is a unique geological formation that is rounded off at the top by exfoliation, a process in which sheets of rock slide from a previously sediment-covered formation due to release of pressure that follows its exposure. In Georgia we have a formation that underwent the same process. But, Stone Mountain State Park would be only a tiny blip on the map of Yosemite National Park. Stone mountain itself, only 1/8 as tall as half dome, would be almost unrecognizable on a topographic map of the Sierra Nevada giants that lie within the park’s boundaries. Piling back in the van, we set off for something we definitely do not have in Georgia.
Our next adventure brought us to the threshold of an enormous forest, Tuolumne Grove. Giant sequoias offered city-lovers an alternative to sky-scrappers and nature-lovers an enlarged version of a familiar setting. A cross section of an old sequoia left us in awe as we stared at the history that had past during the long life of the second oldest tree we’d ever seen. A short hike through the trees gave students an opportunity to link hands and embrace a tree in a group hug. Seven students formed a ring around a thick trunk showing mother nature their love. Further down the trail we crossed right through a giant sequoia. Originally installed to draw attraction to an old toll road, a tunnel had been carved out of a towering tree and now functioned as a tourist attraction along the forest trail. We looped around and made out way back to the familiar vans.
Like the trees of the Tuolumne Grove, Yosemite is giant. Half of a day wasn’t nearly enough to get our fill of the park. After driving to camp that night we packed big lunches in preparation for the hike we had planned for the next day. Waking up extra early the next morning to avoid 4th of July crowds, we took off for the park, lunches and water crammed in our backpacks and hiking boots laced on our feet. Eyes heavy, most of the students quickly found reality replaced by dreams. Waking groggily 2 hours later we found ourselves deep within the park.
An 8.4 mile hike led us down from Glacier Point to the valley below. Streams and waterfalls made the already beautiful hike even more scenic and gave us incredible places for snack breaks, and in some cases even naps. The view from the top of Nevada Falls fell short as soon as we got a glimpse of it from the bottom. Thick white water poured over the cliff face in a rage of paradoxically tranquil fury. Trees guarded the river on either side as it flowed quickly over rocks post-cliff-dive. A few miles later a double rainbow arched over the smooth boulders that took the brunt of Vernal Falls. A few students ventured out onto the weathered rocks to get a closer look. Soaked to the bone by the spray of the waterfall, we felt water, the blood of life, coursing through our veins.
Trudging along the trail, I began to remember that we walked not through wilderness but rather through protected landscape. As stunning as the scenic views were, these beautiful streams and rivers had once served a different human-purpose. A Native American people, the Miwok, had inhabited Yosemite for almost 4,000 years. Living close to streams for water and fishing, the Miwoks cared for the land. Prescribed burning was one way in which they maintained a healthy landscape in Yosemite.
In the 18th century everything changed when European settlers gained an interest in Yosemite Valley. With the gold rush came a huge influx of settlers and homestead acts granted the “unclaimed land” on which the Miwok people lived. Conflict ensued and eventually the native people were forced to relocate, an act backed by the National park’s biggest advocate, John Muir who was wrongfully convinced that the natives were destroying, rather than caring for, the land when he caught wind of their fire-setting practices. Those who resisted relocation or attempted to return to the land were killed. In the end the land was not allotted to settlers as Muir and his supporters declared it a wilderness in need of preservation. Today the land is incorrectly viewed as fully natural land that has remained “untouched” and “unaltered” by mankind.
Ironically, even if the land had not been altered by the Miwok, the human presence today would be enough to discount the area as wilderness. After the hike we shuttled over to the Valley Village and were swarmed by the masses of people who chose to hike Yosemite in honor of our nation on independence day. With a past scarred by the forceful removal of Yosemite Valley’s native people, the park is an interesting location to celebrate pride in a land of freedom for all.
But Yosemite is not solely defined by the mistakes or wrong doings of its founders, nor is it ruined by the presence of modern human society. Instead, it now stands a reminder of both the beauty and power of nature. With views that are unparalleled, trees that could give towers a run for their money and waterfalls more powerful than humankind could ever hope to be, Yosemite is a place where we are all humbled. A place that brings modern cultures together in a universal appreciation for the spirit of nature.
True wilderness or not, Yosemite remains an escape from the industry-heavy modern world. It is a step back toward our humanity, a movement toward the values that led the native people to hold sacred not just that which sustained them, but all that which was around them. The park accomplishes a tough feat in that it is a place that brings modern cultures together in a universal appreciation for the spirit of nature. So bringing your family and friends to Yosemite on the fourth of July is a fitting way to celebrate a country that becomes an increasingly colorful mosaic of different people everyday.
