National Park Tour - Yosemite Falls - Friday 5/25/07

I was up at sunrise, about 5am, and hit the road back to Yosemite. I had used the last of my milk in the pot pie, so I skipped breakfast, which was fine since I wasn’t hungry anyway. When I arrived in the valley, I parked by the meadow and walked to the Upper Yosemite Falls trailhead.

At the trailhead I put my head down and panted up the 60 steep switchbacks to Columbia Rock. The months of sitting in a classroom did nothing for my condition, because by the time I reached the viewpoint, I felt like I might barf if I took one more step. I considered briefly if this was the reason the trail builders chose to build the viewpoint, because the first view of the falls was only a short walk away. The valley floor was hazy, but pretty, and I was able to pick out my car which now looked like a micro machine.

Once I caught my breath, I continued to the first view of the falls. I rounded a bend in the trail and gasp like a kid on Christmas morning. It was glorious, and at this point I decided it would be worth it to suck it up and continue the trail up to the brink. I am only halfway there, and the second half of the hike is no easier than the first.

The falls are spraying mist on the trail and after sweating in the glaring sun for much of the first half of the hike, I am welcoming the cooler temperatures as I begin the climb upward. I pass a group of young Brazilian men who apparently had the same idea, because they chose this spot under the world's biggest swamp cooler to take a break for lunch.

From this point on, we would play a game of tortoise and the hare to the top of the falls. They would run past me, then rest and watch me walk by, and then pass me up again. During one of their rests, one of the louder ones finally asked me, “Hey! How come you no get tired? What are you on, vitamins or something?”

I was confused by this question as I sweated by them, red faced, mouth hanging open, and gasping for air. I managed to close my mouth long enough to grin at them, and kept walking. Of course I was tired, but he may have been on to something, because I did take my favorite vitamins that morning (yay, USANA).

Further up the trail, I had stopped for water (can’t bring myself to use a camelback—yuk) and they passed me again. This time the loud one smiles at me and says, “Finally you get tired!! I’m not a eunuch!!” I laughed at this one.

I finally made it to the top and saw a sign marking a trail crossroads. The trail I’m on connects with one from Tuolumne meadows, which explains the cheery looking backpackers that passed me on the way down. Their hike was much easier, though it took two days. I remembered cheerily passing all the suckers wheezing their way up the Walter’s Wiggles switchbacks on their way up to Angels Landing at Zion as Karl and I breezed down from the West Rim Trail—only this time I am one of the suckers. Dammit! Oh well, I made it. I see I also have a choice about whether to go to Falls Overlook or Yosemite Point.

I am wondering which to choose when a pair of hotties walk by on their way down. They said hello, so I asked them which one to choose. They said both. They preferred Yosemite Point, with one of them kissing the tips of his fingers as he said “Magnifique!”

I climbed down to the overlook. It is now 1 pm and I am starving. I squeezed past dozens of tourists to get to the brink, climbed up the guard rail to see anything even resembling a waterfall and to snap my photos, and quickly decided it was too wet and crowded to eat there and so headed back out.

I noticed my Brazilian friends were doing their best sea lion impression by basking shirtless on the rocks next to gorgeous Yosemite Creek. One looked like he was considering getting in the water, which would seem like an excellent idea after a long, hot, sweaty hike except for one minor detail. He was about 50 yards from the brink of the tallest waterfall in North America. I glanced over at an older gentleman who saw them too and said “Stupid!” just as he said “Crazy!” Not all of us want to live on the edge I suppose.

I plopped down under a tree at the top of the hill and polished off my Rice Krispie treat, apple and Cheez-its as I watched more tourists come and go.

After lunch I moved on to Yosemite Point. I crossed Yosemite Creek on a huge sturdy wooden bridge flanked with signs shouting “Danger, Waterfall!” I reckon they are supposed to be scary, but I found the little stick figure in peril humorous.

The creek itself may be the most beautiful creek I’ve ever seen. I was carved into the granite floor, lined with pine trees growing strait out of the rock, and filled with pristine snow-melt water.

Soon I was at Yosemite Point and the view was spectacular. My little micro machine is now a miniscule white speck on the edge of the green splotch I called a meadow. I marveled at how far my little legs were able to carry me in such a short time. The Brazilian boys caught up and I said “Good, you’re not dead!” They laughed.

The boys and I raced each other down the hill. I passed wheezing, red-faced suckers on the way down and assured them they were “almost there!” Many of them groaned at me and said “Yeah, that’s what the last guy said a half hour ago!”

I got to the first view of the falls without much ado other than pining for the walking stick I forgot in my trunk. The sand on the granite paving stones was slippery and my tired legs could have used the help. At the falls I took more pictures, as the light from the setting sun had cast a rainbow in the mist.

By the time I reached the trailhead my feet, cozy in their new Merrills (best hiking shoes, ever!!), were finally starting to hurt, and I am tired from lack of sleep. I begin the groggy post-hike limp back to my car and just as I am getting to the meadow, one of the Brazilian boys ran up to me all excited about something.

“Did you see the brr? Did you see the brr? It went right by where you were!”

“Huh?”

“Brr! You know! Brr!” he said, waving his hands.

I still didn’t know what the heck he was talking about. My tired brain creaked, trying to wake up and make some sense of what this kid was trying to tell me.

“Come here! I took pictures!”

I followed him to a group of people surrounding a camera and the light bulb click on. Ohhh, bear!! Apparently a cute little black bear had run right by me and I was too tired to notice. He had some great pictures of it. I felt like Meg Ryan in the movie French Kiss. Kevin Kline’s voice is ringing in my ears. (Wi, Bob!) I thanked him for sharing and continued to my car.

Once back at camp, I was too tired to cook so I plopped down with some leftover pot pie. It wasn’t half bad cold. By this time I had neighbors and one of them stopped by to say hello and chatted for quite a while. His name was Michael, and he was a chiropractor in Carson City. He told me he was an avid climber and explorer and suggested a few places I should visit. I was glad to have met him. He left and I was in my little sleeping bag snoring by 9 pm.