Yosemite — a brief encounter
Going out, I found, was really going in.
John Muir
My husband recently announced he was taking himself off on a spiritual jaunt to alleviate the pressures of the modern world. He’d been planning it for weeks — he’d set off early one weekend, with ropes (and the rest of the new kit it was imperative to purchase), and climb the infamous Half Dome at Yosemite. Hats off, I was impressed.
Everything was going to plan. Until I realised that we may not have the chance to actually visit Yosemite again for a while. Musing on this thought for some time (well over half a day), we pretty much gate-crashed his wilderness voyage and jumped on board ‘en famille’.
My husband had sold the whole move out to America by waxing lyrical about the beauty of these parks. Admittedly, I’d been put off slightly by our initial forays into the vast wilderness here, resulting in sweltering heat, hours (and hours) sat in the car, and children puking out the window along winding roads.
But Yosemite was something else.
Californian Rains
The constant wet weather this year has blasted the sunshine state with ‘Pineapple Express’ storms — what the Mercury News calls a type of “atmospheric river” that gets its name from the plume of moisture coming from Hawaii into California. So much so, that California is officially no longer in drought — the land is shimmering green and the waterfalls are in full flow. I’m pretty sure we saw Yosemite at its best.
Phantom Music
We’d booked lodgings in the famous Ahwahnee Hotel (now named the Majestic Yosemite Hotel due to a government dispute, but everyone still calls it the Ahwahnee). Interiors of the hotel were adapted for Stanley Kubrick’s horror film The Shining (1980) and many notable guests have stayed there, including Queen Elizabeth II, Barack Obama and Charlie Chaplin.
It has a really authentic vibe — a bit faded around the edges, but what felt like a grand statement to the American wilderness. Designed by architect, Gilbert Stanley Underwood, the main hall felt reminiscent of a Viking Mead Hall or Beowulf’s Heorot. Every time my youngest traipsed up the long staircase to the loo, he mentioned ghosts — and I have to agree with him; there were definitely nebulous spectres lurking in the air.
As we wandered into reception, we heard music and I knew at once it was a live orchestra. Memories of playing first violins in Devon Youth Orchestra emerged, so clearly I grabbed the kids and made them listen intently to the full set. They did a bit of inappropriate dancing, I explained what a Tuba was, and then we chipped off.
Into the Wild
Clearly, I left the hiking plans to my husband, a seasoned pro, and whom once, pre-kids, had navigated us around the Tour De Mont Blanc (100 miles in 11 days, across 3 countires — France, Italy and Switzerland). I had notions this particular walk through Yosemite would be brisk, sauntering a few miles around the valley floor, and breathing in the forest air.
We set off along what is known as The Mist Trail — Yosemite’s signature hike, with fabulous views scattered along the 7 mile trail, and two impressive waterfalls. As we ascended the steep stretch up the last 100 feet to Vernal Falls, I started to notice there was nobody else with children on the trail.
The last part consisted of stairs cut into the stony cliffside. As we climbed, we got soaking wet from the powerful spray from the Falls, and it was at this point, as I saw my 3 year old shivering with cold, that I wondered what the actual fuck we were doing bringing 2 kids under 8 on this precipitous walk.
In fact, so many seasoned hikers kept patting us on the back, commenting on how ‘brave’ we were, how far the kids had walked, and wishing us the best of luck on the ‘long hike back’.
But we finally made it to the top, after a mini meltdown (from me), and it was sublime. The return leg was was 90 mins of pure uphill under a scorching sun, and then toe crippling downhill for the next 2 hours. We made it — alive. And rejoiced. And what I failed to point out, is that along with my consistent worry (churfing) about the children’s safety, my husband carried at least one of them on his shoulders the whole way round. And they are pretty solid mini humans.
The way back home
After congratulating ourselves on our hiking success with too much wine, we awoke the next morning to minor hangovers and a need to entertain the kids. We tripped off to see the Ansell Adams photography exhibition, dipped our toes in the pool and set off home. I was expecting a dull old highway for much of the way, but the drive back along the SR120 was spellbinding.
Grizzly Woman
Within 2 minutes of driving out of the park, we eyed 2 or 3 people with cameras at the side of the road. My gut instinct knew it was a BEAR! It was a magical moment with just a few humans and a big brown brute of a bear, having a munch and generally looking huge and fluffy.
The drive continued along the San Pedro Reservoir — a beautiful expanse of blue, and meandered through old Californian gold mining towns, with streets and saloons that literally haven’t changed since they were built during the Gold Rush in the early 1850s.
The largest of these mining towns is Groveland — a place once known as ‘Garrotte’ for it’s swift justice and hanging. We considered swinging by the Iron Door Saloon (reputedly the oldest joint in California), but didn’t really want to extend the 5 hour drive, so we made do with a quick glance out the window of the wagon.
But the real gem in all this was the scenery, oh the scenery: wild expansive open spaces, lush green grass, waterfalls at full tilt and beautiful lakes. Yosemite and its environs was one of the most spectacular landscapes I’ve ever driven through, and I’m so glad we gatecrashed my husband’s plans to see it.
And in the end, so was he.
Music
Karen Dalton — It’s So Hard To Tell Who’s Going To Love You The Best
A folk blues singer — who I listened to on repeat when my eldest son was born. Her bluesy, world-weary voice seemed the perfect accompaniment as we trailed through the ghostly gold towns.
Film & TV
City of Gold
If you have not watched this wonderful documentary yet about LA’s burgeoning food scene and Pulitzer prize-winning food critic, Jonathan Gold, I strongly urge you to do so. Gold himself becomes the main event.
Weiner
Former U.S. representative Anthony Weiner’s catastrophic race for Mayor of NYC in 2013. Just watch it.
Books
Exit West — Mohsin Hamid
I’ve just picked this up, based only on its beautiful cover. I’m really into blues at the moment and these shades are right up my street. After reading the reviews, I think it’s gonna be good.
