Day two and a half in Yosemite could only be characterized by water and lots of it. As such, our itinerary for the day included a little guided paddle down the Merced River with All Outdoors. Needless to say, Steve and I awoke that morning (following the prior day’s hike of the century) with muscles that were just a wee bit sore, but hearts filled with excitement and anticipation for our coming whitewater adventure! At around 8:00 am, showered, dressed and fed, we hopped into our borrowed vehicle and headed outside the confines of the park to a small mountain grocer in Midpines, which served as temporary headquarters for our river guides, in order to meet our fellow, and soon to be familiar, adventurers, sign waivers, get outfitted in wetsuits, helmets, life vests and lube up with sunscreen, before boarding a bus that would transport our pod of enthusiastic whitewater novices, to the origin of our journey, approximately 15 miles from where we would end our floating expedition later that day.
Huddled around our guides in the parking lot adjacent to our boat launch site, the two river veterans schooled us in river rafting safety and commands before allowing our larger group to divide into two smaller entities and board our respective inflatable crafts. Once aboard, all crewmembers practiced commands, paddles in the water, in an effort to row and work as one unit, as whitewater rafting is all about teaming and forward momentum. Once Joe (our boat’s captain) felt we were ready to give it a go, we paddled out to the middle of the river and experienced our first class IV rapid about 60 seconds into the trip. Everyone in our raft was hooting, hollering and, more importantly, smiling and laughing as we paddled our way over waves and rocks. It was awesome!
After experiencing our first rapid, I looked over at Steve, who wore a grin extending from ear to ear, and immediately felt a sense of relief for this was Steve’s first rafting experience. Not that I climbed into our boat with a wealth of experience either, mind you. I had only been rafting once before (on the Snake River in Wyoming) and that was years ago during a work retreat. So, essentially I knew that I liked being on the river and remembered enjoying my one and only rafting journey, paddling through the rocky waves, but basically it was so long ago that the experience didn’t seem relevant to my current waterlogged situation. As such, I was still nervous before boarding our craft, the myriad commands felt unfamiliar to me, even when practicing them with oar to water, and our first set of rapids definitely intimidated me upon first sight. Only after successfully paddling through that first wet and wild roller coaster did I feel like I was going to be okay. Actually, I was better than okay. I loved the experience of being in the raucous water and the adrenalin rush of pushing through the watery chaos. It was all coming back to me.
So, we pushed on, tackling the river’s tumult with growing confidence, each section of whitewater presenting a particular challenge to immerse ourselves in. Joe would prep our group on strategy before each encounter with the demanding components of the river while yelling commands like a drill sergeant during those watery, rocky trials and with each successful navigation of the roller coaster like waters there was a shared sense of accomplishment exhibited by everyone on our boat, which we acknowledged via rounds of smiles, head nods or paddle high-fives. In between sections of whitewater, our little group of rafters were given respite characterized by periods of watery calm, the surrounding scenery taking on a spectacular brilliance. The blazing sun illuminated everything beneath its rays. Mountains, trees, rocks and wildlife all seemed to glow. It was an absolutely amazing way to see the landscape. There’s literally no other view like it.And so the morning passed.
When lunchtime rolled around our guides had us pull off the river onto a small beach where the larger group reunited to feast upon fresh fruit and sandwiches. I didn’t realize how ravenous I was until I began eating! Steve and I chatted our fellow rafters up about the morning’s experience and speculated about the sorts of challenges we could expect to encounter in the afternoon. Bellies full, everyone was excited to get back onto the river to experience the second half of the day’s journey.
The afternoon presented similar watery challenges as the morning, but our boat full of novice rafters seemed to take on the demands with more organized force and enthusiasm. So much so, that the last three sections of rapids of the trip, which were considered to be the most challenging of the day and happened to occur quite close together, felt almost effortless. Okay, they weren’t really effortless to paddle through, but the experience of navigating our inflatable craft through the watery slalom did begin to feel second nature. What an exhilarating experience to be sure and we definitely didn't want it to end. However, as is the way of things our trip did come to a close shortly thereafter and Steve and I assisted our fellow rafters in loading our boats back onto their trailer for transport home. We too filed back onto our bus to be similarly transported and reunited with our terrestrial vehicles, our ride home awash with feelings of happiness and accomplishment, but also tinged with a bit of sadness for we wanted nothing more than to remain on the river, navigating her twists and turns, riding her raucous waves and feeling the depths of her captivating calm.
Thursday, August 4, 2011
Friday, July 29, 2011
Informational Interlude: The Nerd Book
I’ve mentioned the book of books in previous posts. Steve and I both feel that it has become an important aspect of our travels about America’s National Parks. We affectionately refer to it as the Nerd Book (its official name is “Passport To Your National Parks - Explorer Edition”) and we feel naked entering a park without it. Seriously, we didn’t have the Nerd Book with us when visiting Pinnacles National Monument and as such, I had to stamp itinerant pieces of paper with those passport cancellations and paste them into the book after our arrival home. Steve told me that he believed those stamps could be considered illegitimate by virtue of the fact that they were not stamped directly into the book and therefore, might also be considered cheating. And you all think I'm the quirky one of this twosome...
At any rate, every National Park, Monument, Recreation Area, Preserve, Reserve, River, Lakeshore, Seashore, Battlefield (the list goes on and on and can be found at the front the book) has a passport cancellation station in their Visitor Center(s). Cancellation Stamps contain the name of the National Park, Visitor Center name or city of residence and a current date. Some parks also have an additional iconic stamp that refers to the geography or wildlife in the park (i.e., Lassen Volcanic National Park has an erupting volcano stamp, Sequoia has a towering tree stamp and Pinnacles has a California condor stamp). So, the object of this self-imposed competition is to visit as many parks as one can feasibly visit, stamp the book (and maybe collect a few official park stickers to adorn the pages as well) and share one’s nerdy stamp collecting stories with one’s friends! Okay, friends may not want to hear any riveting passport cancellation station lore, but nevertheless, the Nerd Book is an excellent memory collection tool!
At any rate, every National Park, Monument, Recreation Area, Preserve, Reserve, River, Lakeshore, Seashore, Battlefield (the list goes on and on and can be found at the front the book) has a passport cancellation station in their Visitor Center(s). Cancellation Stamps contain the name of the National Park, Visitor Center name or city of residence and a current date. Some parks also have an additional iconic stamp that refers to the geography or wildlife in the park (i.e., Lassen Volcanic National Park has an erupting volcano stamp, Sequoia has a towering tree stamp and Pinnacles has a California condor stamp). So, the object of this self-imposed competition is to visit as many parks as one can feasibly visit, stamp the book (and maybe collect a few official park stickers to adorn the pages as well) and share one’s nerdy stamp collecting stories with one’s friends! Okay, friends may not want to hear any riveting passport cancellation station lore, but nevertheless, the Nerd Book is an excellent memory collection tool!
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Four Mile Trail
When Steve and I were in Yosemite last year, we hiked the Valley Loop Trail. It was a lovely and mostly deserted walk in the woods that we both thoroughly enjoyed. Now, according to the National Park Service, this trail (the full loop) is 13 miles long. That sounds about right as we hiked the first half of the trail in the morning, had lunch in Yosemite Village and then hiked the second half of the trail in the afternoon. The loop took us approximately 8 – 10 hours to complete (including lunch). Aside from the mileage, this was a fairly easy trail to hike as the path was mostly flat, water crossings occurred, but weren’t too frequent (at least this was the case last year when the water levels in the park were more in the normal range for a Yosemite summer), and there weren’t many other people on the trail, which astounded both Steve and me as the Valley was packed with cars and people on the day we stepped onto the path. As a result, with every footfall we became increasingly immersed in all of natural delights the Yosemite Valley has to offer (sans humans) and we loved it!
Okay, fast forward to Curry Village Tent Cabin 400 and something where Steve and I were discussing which hike to embark upon during what would be our first full day in Yosemite. Refreshed from a lovely meal the previous evening followed by a decent night’s sleep, we were reminiscing about last year’s Loop Trail hike when we recalled meeting a couple that day who had just finished their own hike up to Glacier Point and back. The couple said that Four Mile Trail was difficult, but definitely worth the effort. So, with that memory in the forefront of our minds, we made the decision to hike to Glacier Point and back that day.
In light of the fact that it was around 8:00 am when the hike plan came together, Steve and I decided to forego a proper breakfast and set out on the trail with granola bars, trail mix and water instead. Mistake number one. Okay, Steve is like a camel. The man is able to walk, run, jog, hike, skip, jump rope, cross country ski, long distances without consuming any food and/or water for hours at a stretch. He doesn’t complain. He doesn’t get hungry or thirsty. He just keeps moving. Conversely, I am not like a camel. I need to consume food at regular intervals and I generally drink 64 ounces of water per day sitting behind my desk at the cube farm. Oh, and I definitely complain. Call me a reluctant athlete. Sure, I spin every week, try to hit a yoga class every now and again, do some hiking and ride my bike. Hell, I even managed to complete a marathon a few years back. However, I accomplish none of these activities in silence. I like to vocalize about my suffering while participating in said physical activities. My musings include such infirmities as joint pain, ballistic sinuses made worse by a lack of tissues, an inner ear thing that leaves me in a constant state of dizziness, the uncomfortable possibilities are endless and I like to share my status with my companions. Okay, none of these complaints ever deters me from my exercise regimen (it may deter others from exercising with me...) as I definitely keep to my schedule of physical activity. Nonetheless, I do whine. Call it whistling while I work. Fortunately for me, the camel is highly tolerant of the complainer’s ubiquitous tune.
At any rate, my backpack (mistake number two…I will elaborate on this later in the post) filled with snacks, Steve and I walked over to the Curry Village YARTS stop in the hopes of catching the shuttle to the trailhead. Discussion ensued while waiting for bus regarding the positive aspects of walking to the trailhead instead. Mistake number three. Yes, it would definitely be a beautiful walk to the trailhead, but that would add another 2 miles in each direction onto what was to be the most strenuous hike either of us has ever attempted. Hindsight is definitely 20/20.
After our lovely stroll along a section of the Valley Loop Trail to our designated trailhead, we began the long, arduous climb up Four Mile Trail (which is actually 4.6 miles from the valley floor to the top of the trail). It is entirely uphill (not a flat portion of trail to be had), consisting of a gazillion (technical term) switchbacks. In a word, brutal. Nonetheless, I was doing well for the first two hours. Sure, I was struggling a bit. It was definitely hard work, but at that point I was still oohing and aahing at the views and I held the belief that I was capable of reaching the top of the mountain. By hour three my nose was dripping wildly, breathing though my nostrils had all but ceased as a result, my calves were beginning to ache deeply and I had begun complaining...a lot. Steve cheered me on and we kept going. By hour four I was in tears and each time I glanced at the trail above me I’d tell Steve that I was incapable of proceeding any further. He would coax me out of my tearful paralysis and we’d keep going. Needless to say, I no longer gave a rat’s ass about the spectacular views. I didn’t care about the fact that people who had decades on me in age were driving past me in what seemed like droves with an effortlessness that eluded me. I did care, however, that my backpack (back to mistake number two) had long begun to feel like I was hauling a ton of bricks up the side of the mountain, this state of being exacerbated by the fact that I had found myself out of water under a blazing sun. Steve gave me what was left of his water supply, whispered some words of encouragement into my ear and we pushed on. It took us approximately five hours to reach Glacier Point. What an ordeal.
We had made it to the top and as such, I felt a mixture of emotions while sitting across from Half Dome eating my lunch. Firstly, I was proud of us for having accomplished such a rigorous task. Secondly, I was thankful for Steve’s enduring support during the climb. Basically, without his companionship and words of encouragement I would have collapsed, dug in and made that particular switchback my new home. Thirdly, I was disappointed in myself for allowing that trail to get the better of me. Despite my varied emotions, I focused on the positives. We made it to the top. We were enjoying a satisfying meal overlooking a spectacular view. I didn’t have to feel guilty about eating an entire bag of Doritos after that amount of physical activity. We could catch the next YARTS shuttle down the mountain and hopefully get to the Village Visitors Center for some sincere nerd book stamping. Life was good. Then Steve, having just finished his lunch, turned to me and said, “So, are you ready to hike down?”
I looked at him with incredulity. When I realized that he was serious, I protested. That’s an understatement. I pitched a fit. There may have even been tears involved. Nevertheless, I finally relented and we made our way back down the mountain. My knee and hip felt as if on fire, causing me to hobble the last few miles. I clung to Steve’s encouraging words, sustenance for every step. It was dusk when we at last reached the valley floor and I told Steve that I was done walking. So, we made our way, ever so slowly, over to the YARTS stop and shared stories of our adventurous undertaking with others who were also waiting for transport back to their lodgings. An hour or so later, no shuttle to be seen, a young woman and her son encountered our group and asked, “Were you aware that the shuttle is no longer running for the day?”
Okay, fast forward to Curry Village Tent Cabin 400 and something where Steve and I were discussing which hike to embark upon during what would be our first full day in Yosemite. Refreshed from a lovely meal the previous evening followed by a decent night’s sleep, we were reminiscing about last year’s Loop Trail hike when we recalled meeting a couple that day who had just finished their own hike up to Glacier Point and back. The couple said that Four Mile Trail was difficult, but definitely worth the effort. So, with that memory in the forefront of our minds, we made the decision to hike to Glacier Point and back that day.
In light of the fact that it was around 8:00 am when the hike plan came together, Steve and I decided to forego a proper breakfast and set out on the trail with granola bars, trail mix and water instead. Mistake number one. Okay, Steve is like a camel. The man is able to walk, run, jog, hike, skip, jump rope, cross country ski, long distances without consuming any food and/or water for hours at a stretch. He doesn’t complain. He doesn’t get hungry or thirsty. He just keeps moving. Conversely, I am not like a camel. I need to consume food at regular intervals and I generally drink 64 ounces of water per day sitting behind my desk at the cube farm. Oh, and I definitely complain. Call me a reluctant athlete. Sure, I spin every week, try to hit a yoga class every now and again, do some hiking and ride my bike. Hell, I even managed to complete a marathon a few years back. However, I accomplish none of these activities in silence. I like to vocalize about my suffering while participating in said physical activities. My musings include such infirmities as joint pain, ballistic sinuses made worse by a lack of tissues, an inner ear thing that leaves me in a constant state of dizziness, the uncomfortable possibilities are endless and I like to share my status with my companions. Okay, none of these complaints ever deters me from my exercise regimen (it may deter others from exercising with me...) as I definitely keep to my schedule of physical activity. Nonetheless, I do whine. Call it whistling while I work. Fortunately for me, the camel is highly tolerant of the complainer’s ubiquitous tune.
At any rate, my backpack (mistake number two…I will elaborate on this later in the post) filled with snacks, Steve and I walked over to the Curry Village YARTS stop in the hopes of catching the shuttle to the trailhead. Discussion ensued while waiting for bus regarding the positive aspects of walking to the trailhead instead. Mistake number three. Yes, it would definitely be a beautiful walk to the trailhead, but that would add another 2 miles in each direction onto what was to be the most strenuous hike either of us has ever attempted. Hindsight is definitely 20/20.
After our lovely stroll along a section of the Valley Loop Trail to our designated trailhead, we began the long, arduous climb up Four Mile Trail (which is actually 4.6 miles from the valley floor to the top of the trail). It is entirely uphill (not a flat portion of trail to be had), consisting of a gazillion (technical term) switchbacks. In a word, brutal. Nonetheless, I was doing well for the first two hours. Sure, I was struggling a bit. It was definitely hard work, but at that point I was still oohing and aahing at the views and I held the belief that I was capable of reaching the top of the mountain. By hour three my nose was dripping wildly, breathing though my nostrils had all but ceased as a result, my calves were beginning to ache deeply and I had begun complaining...a lot. Steve cheered me on and we kept going. By hour four I was in tears and each time I glanced at the trail above me I’d tell Steve that I was incapable of proceeding any further. He would coax me out of my tearful paralysis and we’d keep going. Needless to say, I no longer gave a rat’s ass about the spectacular views. I didn’t care about the fact that people who had decades on me in age were driving past me in what seemed like droves with an effortlessness that eluded me. I did care, however, that my backpack (back to mistake number two) had long begun to feel like I was hauling a ton of bricks up the side of the mountain, this state of being exacerbated by the fact that I had found myself out of water under a blazing sun. Steve gave me what was left of his water supply, whispered some words of encouragement into my ear and we pushed on. It took us approximately five hours to reach Glacier Point. What an ordeal.
We had made it to the top and as such, I felt a mixture of emotions while sitting across from Half Dome eating my lunch. Firstly, I was proud of us for having accomplished such a rigorous task. Secondly, I was thankful for Steve’s enduring support during the climb. Basically, without his companionship and words of encouragement I would have collapsed, dug in and made that particular switchback my new home. Thirdly, I was disappointed in myself for allowing that trail to get the better of me. Despite my varied emotions, I focused on the positives. We made it to the top. We were enjoying a satisfying meal overlooking a spectacular view. I didn’t have to feel guilty about eating an entire bag of Doritos after that amount of physical activity. We could catch the next YARTS shuttle down the mountain and hopefully get to the Village Visitors Center for some sincere nerd book stamping. Life was good. Then Steve, having just finished his lunch, turned to me and said, “So, are you ready to hike down?”
I looked at him with incredulity. When I realized that he was serious, I protested. That’s an understatement. I pitched a fit. There may have even been tears involved. Nevertheless, I finally relented and we made our way back down the mountain. My knee and hip felt as if on fire, causing me to hobble the last few miles. I clung to Steve’s encouraging words, sustenance for every step. It was dusk when we at last reached the valley floor and I told Steve that I was done walking. So, we made our way, ever so slowly, over to the YARTS stop and shared stories of our adventurous undertaking with others who were also waiting for transport back to their lodgings. An hour or so later, no shuttle to be seen, a young woman and her son encountered our group and asked, “Were you aware that the shuttle is no longer running for the day?”
Audible sighs all around. And so it came to pass that Steve and I walked those last few miles back to our portacabin, through clouds of mosquitoes, unDeeted and decrepit, longing to be out of our hiking boots and prone, but feeling as though we had accomplished something truly amazing.
Yosemite!
Day Two of our expedition marked two very important occasions: (i) Steve’s 40th journey around the sun and (ii) entrance into Yosemite National Park! Unfortunately, our itinerary only allowed us a day in Sequoia National Park by virtue of the fact that we got off to a late start. It is comforting to know, however, that we can feasibly return to Sequoia for a long weekend anytime as it is a mere 4-5 hour journey from door to forest floor. In other words, General Sherman, we’ll be back before your nether regions are once again buried beneath winter’s blanket o’ snow.
Now, Yosemite! It is such a special place. Sure, during the summer months its valley is packed with tourists, its lodging is sold out months in advance and, yes, its vehicle traffic is legendarily slow. However, there is good reason for all of this. Yosemite is absolutely one of the most amazing places to be found on this planet. Who wouldn’t want to experience a place as glorious as this? Half Dome, El Capitan, Yosemite Falls, Vernal Falls, Nevada Falls, Bridalveil Falls, Glacier Point, Mirror Lake, Tuolumne Meadows! My list merely scratches the surface of this beloved spectacle of nature. I know I speak for both of us when I state that Steve and I hold Yosemite’s beauty and bounty near and dear to our hearts. In fact, when we were discussing Steve’s 40th birthday celebration possibilities, the list became really short, really fast after Yosemite found its way into the queue. We both consider it to be “our place” respectively as well as collectively. We had to celebrate Steve’s birthday in Yosemite. No other location would suffice.
We arrived at Curry Village in the heart of the valley around 5:30 pm and snagged our tent cabin. After a bit of unpacking and much needed showers, we dressed for dinner, doused ourselves in Deet and strolled over to the Ahwahnee Dining Room for an intimate birthday dinner. The Ahwahnee is the old venerable lodge in the heart of the Yosemite Valley. The structure itself is gorgeous with a façade of heavy timber and rock. The place looks as if it sprouted directly from the valley floor. Its Dining Room is no less spectacular than the rest of the edifice, sporting 34 foot high vaulted ceilings and a wall of windows overlooking the surrounding natural wonders. It’s a lovely place. So, after educating our server about the positive attributes of my chosen cocktail, a dark and stormy, we both happily feasted in the grandeur. Steve delighted in the Rotisserie Free Range Chicken while I enjoyed the Grassfed Beef Short Rib, which was fall off the bone tender and juicy. Always a bit skeptical of resort hotel cuisine (it tends toward the expensive and the mediocre), I was pleasantly surprised and genuinely happy with the quality of our dishes. Of course we topped off our meal with two slices of warm pie ala mode for dessert (boysenberry and apple). Delicious.
Stuffed and ready for some shut eye, Steve and I hopped the YARTS (Yosemite Area Regional Transportation System) shuttle back to our portacabin to turn in for the evening. We had a big adventure planned for the following day and rest was definitely in order.
Now, Yosemite! It is such a special place. Sure, during the summer months its valley is packed with tourists, its lodging is sold out months in advance and, yes, its vehicle traffic is legendarily slow. However, there is good reason for all of this. Yosemite is absolutely one of the most amazing places to be found on this planet. Who wouldn’t want to experience a place as glorious as this? Half Dome, El Capitan, Yosemite Falls, Vernal Falls, Nevada Falls, Bridalveil Falls, Glacier Point, Mirror Lake, Tuolumne Meadows! My list merely scratches the surface of this beloved spectacle of nature. I know I speak for both of us when I state that Steve and I hold Yosemite’s beauty and bounty near and dear to our hearts. In fact, when we were discussing Steve’s 40th birthday celebration possibilities, the list became really short, really fast after Yosemite found its way into the queue. We both consider it to be “our place” respectively as well as collectively. We had to celebrate Steve’s birthday in Yosemite. No other location would suffice.
We arrived at Curry Village in the heart of the valley around 5:30 pm and snagged our tent cabin. After a bit of unpacking and much needed showers, we dressed for dinner, doused ourselves in Deet and strolled over to the Ahwahnee Dining Room for an intimate birthday dinner. The Ahwahnee is the old venerable lodge in the heart of the Yosemite Valley. The structure itself is gorgeous with a façade of heavy timber and rock. The place looks as if it sprouted directly from the valley floor. Its Dining Room is no less spectacular than the rest of the edifice, sporting 34 foot high vaulted ceilings and a wall of windows overlooking the surrounding natural wonders. It’s a lovely place. So, after educating our server about the positive attributes of my chosen cocktail, a dark and stormy, we both happily feasted in the grandeur. Steve delighted in the Rotisserie Free Range Chicken while I enjoyed the Grassfed Beef Short Rib, which was fall off the bone tender and juicy. Always a bit skeptical of resort hotel cuisine (it tends toward the expensive and the mediocre), I was pleasantly surprised and genuinely happy with the quality of our dishes. Of course we topped off our meal with two slices of warm pie ala mode for dessert (boysenberry and apple). Delicious.
Stuffed and ready for some shut eye, Steve and I hopped the YARTS (Yosemite Area Regional Transportation System) shuttle back to our portacabin to turn in for the evening. We had a big adventure planned for the following day and rest was definitely in order.
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Yes, it's still Day One!
Our experience with Mr. Bear behind us, Steve and I decided to head over to our reserved campground, Dorst Creek, and set up our home away from home. On the way over we stopped in at the Lodgepole Visitors Center for a looksee and another chance to stamp the “nerd book”. We were also pleasantly surprised to find that there were still tickets available to tour Sequoia’s Crystal Cave that evening. So, of course we procured two! Mmmm, a candlelight cave tour…Tickets in hand and a few hours to kill before our tour was to begin, we continued on our way to Dorst Creek.
Now, let me state for the record that I am a camping newbie. I didn’t camp as a kid and, well, even as an adult (before Steve and I “itemized”), the number of times I have camped can be tallied on one hand (or one finger) and even that experience was fairly sanitized. I did sleep in a tent, but I didn’t really set anything up nor did I do any cooking. So, as far as I’m concerned, that experience doesn’t really count. No, my first true camping experience was with Steve in Joshua Tree for one of the Perseid meteor showers little more than a year ago. Since that fateful day, we have made an effort to camp and, schedules permitting, camp often.
We pulled up to our reserved spot at Dorst and were delighted with the surroundings. Our site was at the back of one of the campground loops, shaded by myriad larger than life trees and bordered on one side by Dorst Creek. Lovely. We knew that we were only going to be there one night, so we loaded the bear box up with our food and toiletries, set up our tent, mattress and sleeping bags and decided to leave the rest of our gear in the car.
A note about gear…I really like it. I like it so much that I’ve acquired a fair amount of it over the last several months. As such, we are now the proud owners of Adam and Eve sleeping bags, pillows, an air mattress, a tent with a screened in porch, a zero-gravity camp recliner, a portable camp kitchen, camp wine glasses and a French press coffee pot, to name but a few. I am angling for a camp oven, but thus far Steve has vetoed this possible acquisition on the grounds that we already have too much gear. Too much gear? Is there such a thing?
At any rate, after resting up a bit, we headed over to the cave for a bit of candlelight exploration, which required a 40 minute drive to the cave parking lot, a moderate hike down to the cave entrance through clouds of mosquitoes (a recurring theme throughout our journey) and some gearing up for the tour. While lighting lanterns we were greeted by our Sequoia Natural History Association guide, an avid caver, who sought to share his knowledge and enthusiasm for Sequoia’s geological underground wonders with us. And that he did! The cave formations were stunning and I felt privileged to be allowed access into such an amazing example of nature’s beauty. The entire cave walkabout lasted about 90 minutes (plenty of time for Steve to take lots of photos…maybe he will share some with us…). If you find yourself in Sequoia and you are intrigued by the deeper places of the world, this tour is worth the $16 per person ticket price.
Did you say famished? We were! So we piled back into the wagon and made our way back to Dorst Creek for some campfire magic (also known as our traditional first night of camping meal): hotdogs and/or foofy gourmet sausages, chips as well as dessert consisting of freshly inflated Jiffy Pop Popcorn (a masterful engineered treat)!
Needless to say, after a day on the road, an encounter with a bear and an evening of caving we were bushed. We hit the bags after dinner and slept like rocks!
Now, let me state for the record that I am a camping newbie. I didn’t camp as a kid and, well, even as an adult (before Steve and I “itemized”), the number of times I have camped can be tallied on one hand (or one finger) and even that experience was fairly sanitized. I did sleep in a tent, but I didn’t really set anything up nor did I do any cooking. So, as far as I’m concerned, that experience doesn’t really count. No, my first true camping experience was with Steve in Joshua Tree for one of the Perseid meteor showers little more than a year ago. Since that fateful day, we have made an effort to camp and, schedules permitting, camp often.
We pulled up to our reserved spot at Dorst and were delighted with the surroundings. Our site was at the back of one of the campground loops, shaded by myriad larger than life trees and bordered on one side by Dorst Creek. Lovely. We knew that we were only going to be there one night, so we loaded the bear box up with our food and toiletries, set up our tent, mattress and sleeping bags and decided to leave the rest of our gear in the car.
A note about gear…I really like it. I like it so much that I’ve acquired a fair amount of it over the last several months. As such, we are now the proud owners of Adam and Eve sleeping bags, pillows, an air mattress, a tent with a screened in porch, a zero-gravity camp recliner, a portable camp kitchen, camp wine glasses and a French press coffee pot, to name but a few. I am angling for a camp oven, but thus far Steve has vetoed this possible acquisition on the grounds that we already have too much gear. Too much gear? Is there such a thing?
At any rate, after resting up a bit, we headed over to the cave for a bit of candlelight exploration, which required a 40 minute drive to the cave parking lot, a moderate hike down to the cave entrance through clouds of mosquitoes (a recurring theme throughout our journey) and some gearing up for the tour. While lighting lanterns we were greeted by our Sequoia Natural History Association guide, an avid caver, who sought to share his knowledge and enthusiasm for Sequoia’s geological underground wonders with us. And that he did! The cave formations were stunning and I felt privileged to be allowed access into such an amazing example of nature’s beauty. The entire cave walkabout lasted about 90 minutes (plenty of time for Steve to take lots of photos…maybe he will share some with us…). If you find yourself in Sequoia and you are intrigued by the deeper places of the world, this tour is worth the $16 per person ticket price.
Did you say famished? We were! So we piled back into the wagon and made our way back to Dorst Creek for some campfire magic (also known as our traditional first night of camping meal): hotdogs and/or foofy gourmet sausages, chips as well as dessert consisting of freshly inflated Jiffy Pop Popcorn (a masterful engineered treat)!
Needless to say, after a day on the road, an encounter with a bear and an evening of caving we were bushed. We hit the bags after dinner and slept like rocks!
Monday, July 18, 2011
There be bears in those woods...
We've reached the motel portion of our itinerary (read we now have WiFi). Let's celebrate by getting you caught up on the progress of our journey thus far.
First and foremost, a little background about our two-week jaunt, for Steve and I had hatched a plan, loose itinerary, for this trip months ago. As such, it was our intention to leave West Los Angeles via automobile and travel northward along the eastern highways and byways of California, hitting as many National Parks, National Monuments and other sites of significance and magnificence along the way, crossing the California/Oregon border at the mid-point of our journey to experience Crater Lake National Park. During the second half of our trip we'd planned to head back southward via a more coastal route, hitting landmarks of significance and magnificence along the way, edging ever nearer to our point of origin. We also planned to tent camp, whenever possible, throughout the expedition. Now, there was some pre-planning involved with this effort as I wanted to be sure that we were not hunting and gathering for a campsite or alternate lodging in those parks or destinations that are particularly populace during the summer months. Nonetheless, we agreed to remain flexible, letting intuition and a sense of exploration be our ultimate guide.
Okay, long road trip over a two week time span? Camping most of the journey? You know what that means, right? Oh yes, a vehicle, preferably one with a fair amount of cargo space, packed to its sheer limit with gear, food and personal items (if you are Steve and Regina, the term "personal items" can and will generally include a metric ton of camera equipment and electronica, art and craft supplies and a Coleman portable kitchen among other things). Honey, I think we need a bigger boat...
At any rate, our entire house packed in our car, we set out at the very early hour of 4:00 am on Sunday, July 10th, for Sequoia National Park, reaching our first of many destinations a little after noon. This was my second visit to the home of California's giant trees (my first time ever visiting the park was with Steve in June of 2010) and I felt stunned as if seeing the place for the first time. Upon reaching the entrance to the park we renewed our annual pass and headed over to the Foothills Visitor Center to get the "nerd book" (National Park Passport Book...more on this later) stamped. Then we endeavored the long ascent into the heart of the park, which became more breathtaking with every mile. Once in the forest of giants, surrounded by trees thousands of years old and towering hundreds of feet in the air, I found myself in tears. I couldn't wait to get out of the car and walk amongst those stately forest inhabitants! As such we stopped at the Giant Forest Museum and took a walk along Big Trees Trail, where my excitement was further heighten by the presence of another ubiquitous inhabitant of Sequoia National Park, the black bear.
Okay, we're in the California woods. In theory, I know that bears inhabit said woods. I am no stranger to camping nor to the requisite bear boxes found in one's campsite. I am assuming that campgrounds provide campers with bear boxes because bears, in fact, don't mind visiting campgrounds in search of a little fast food. I get it. However, what with bear related deaths being part of current events and all, I happen to be feeling a little reticent about personal bear encounters at the moment, you know?
So, there I was enjoying the trees in all of their majesty with my man and one of those furry, toothy and seemingly always hungry forest inhabitants was hanging out right near the trail munching on some local greens. So, what did I do? I slowly turned on my heels and began quietly walking away from the furry, toothy and seemingly always hungry forest inhabitant. What does my man do? He does what comes naturally to him. Steve moved in closer to Mr. Bear and began photographing him! Totally freaked out, I continued walking, slowing and quietly, but with purpose in the opposite direction and Steve, after having finished his photographic session, eventually caught up with me. He was happily sharing his pictures of Mr. Bear with me as we walked (with purpose) back to the car and I have to say, they're pretty impressive. Nonetheless, I stand by my strategic quick departure as I am generally not interested in being some bear's Happy Meal. At that point I was more than ready to push on and make camp at our designated campground, Dorst Creek, located in the confines of the park. And yes, there would be bear boxes involved.
Stay tuned...
Off to a great start.
Regina will soon be posting her accounts of the trip so far, and will likely have much more entertaining descriptions than I. But I like to ramble on anyway, so here goes...
After much mechanical delay, we left LA at the asscrack of 4:30 am, on our way to Sequoia. Our original plan was to take a slow, scenic route north out of LA, but those plans went out the window when we left a day and a half late.
(Astute readers will notice that our vehicle is not the Nissan Xterra we recently purchased.)
One happy side effect of the delayed departure was a complete lack of traffic leaving LA, and a quick ride up through Fresno and into the park. The weather was our friend too, holding off on the heat until later in the day when we were already in the higher, cooler elevations of the park.
Regina and I had both visited General Sherman (the largest tree in the world) during our visit last year on the motorcycle, so this year, we hit up a museum in the park and hiked the Big Tree Trail, an easy, one mile hike that circles a grove of giant sequoias. The highlight of the hike; meeting a bear.
After hearing much about the recent bear mauling in Yellowstone, we opted to keep our distance from Mr. Bear. After the hike, we moved along to our campsite in Dorst Creek. The place is aptly named; we snagged a sweet campsite right along the creek.
More to come...
After much mechanical delay, we left LA at the asscrack of 4:30 am, on our way to Sequoia. Our original plan was to take a slow, scenic route north out of LA, but those plans went out the window when we left a day and a half late.
One happy side effect of the delayed departure was a complete lack of traffic leaving LA, and a quick ride up through Fresno and into the park. The weather was our friend too, holding off on the heat until later in the day when we were already in the higher, cooler elevations of the park.
Regina and I had both visited General Sherman (the largest tree in the world) during our visit last year on the motorcycle, so this year, we hit up a museum in the park and hiked the Big Tree Trail, an easy, one mile hike that circles a grove of giant sequoias. The highlight of the hike; meeting a bear.
After hearing much about the recent bear mauling in Yellowstone, we opted to keep our distance from Mr. Bear. After the hike, we moved along to our campsite in Dorst Creek. The place is aptly named; we snagged a sweet campsite right along the creek.
More to come...
Sunday, July 17, 2011
My kingdom for WiFi! (Or at least some AT&T 3G)
After a week of no WiFi and almost no cell coverage, we've got some serious catchin-up to do with our posts; hang on, here they come...
Friday, July 8, 2011
Just a little delay.
Regina and I were expecting to be in Sequoia by now, but mechanical issues with our new-to-us truck have kept us at home. The new plan is to hit the road Monday morning and pick up our itinerary at our second stop, Yosemite. We're supremely bummed to miss King's Canyon and Sequoia, but things happen and we're just rollin' with it.
Here's to adventure and happier updates soon.
Here's to adventure and happier updates soon.
And So It Begins...
Throughout our lives we have hundreds, thousands, of brief encounters with people. Many become acquaintances. A handful (or more) become friends and/or lovers. Many of us may even be blessed with partners. However, take it from me, finding a person that you connect with on a deep and visceral level is nothing short of a gift as love is the enterprise of youth, or so I thought.
At age 40, the road of relationships past be-speckled with orange cones, I suddenly and unexpectedly found myself…smitten. I wasn’t looking for another affair of the heart. In fact, I thought myself a complete failure in this particular area of my life, my last marital disaster having left me both emotionally and financially drained. As a result of this and prior “learning experiences” I had resigned myself to be happy flying solo. Imagine my surprise as I found myself spending time, quite innocently at first, with a man whose often silly repartee and penchant for tickling could arouse a glut of girlish giggles from this jaded divorcee. Laughter notwithstanding, this man shares my love for creative exploration both in the studio and out in the larger world we inhabit. We share a passion for music, art, nature, travel and things that go VROOM! I now find myself, at the middle of my life, feeling in love as if for the first time, enjoying every minute and wanting to share our adventures with you dear reader, for adventure is not just something we seek, but crave.
So here it begins, an online documentary, journal, memoir, oftentimes comedic tale, of two individuals connected on a level formerly unfamiliar to us both, wishing to share our expeditions about the planet hand in hand (or riding two up on our fine motorcycle) with you dear reader. Join us while we discover persons, places and things beyond our scope of knowledge or experience.
Sit back and relax, grab a cup of joe (or a glass of wine, stein of beer, a hi-ball perhaps…) and ride along with us as we conquer the desperate need for a shower while experiencing many a day in the great outdoors, hike our way about the mountain trails of California and beyond (CornNuts, cameras, a metric ton of jerky and fanny pack in tow) in an attempt to get the best view money cannot buy, road trip around the US in search of motels with fetching topiary and attempt to make Ken Burns proud by visiting as many National Parks as we can reach on a shoestring budget. Be our companion as we traverse roads scarcely driven. (This is not a metaphor as the love of my life has a penchant for asphalt. We have embarked upon many a fire road, roads closed to the public and plenty of strips of concrete that reach out beyond the horizon where passing another vehicle is a rarity. ) Pay witness to harrowing tales of helmet hair survival (okay, mine not his). Battle the insidiousness of air mattress deflation. Share our misery as we watch our electronic devices succumb to a slow and painful demise at camp. Ride along as we set out on the ubiquitous search for souvenir iron-on patches at every stop we make. Listen to us as we once again debate the correct size and scope of a proper campfire. Ponder with us the nature of pirate-themed establishments in landlocked mountain destinations. Witness how many pairs of shoes it is possible to cram into a suitcase or a motorcycle case while still maintaining enough room for camera equipment and more souvenir purchases. Join us as we attempt to ascertain how much jerky and string cheese the human body can digest successfully while in a sitting position for endless hours.
Oh, come on! It’s going to be fun for the road is open, the sky is vast and our hearts are dedicated to one another, the spirit of adventure and a desire to see it all...
At age 40, the road of relationships past be-speckled with orange cones, I suddenly and unexpectedly found myself…smitten. I wasn’t looking for another affair of the heart. In fact, I thought myself a complete failure in this particular area of my life, my last marital disaster having left me both emotionally and financially drained. As a result of this and prior “learning experiences” I had resigned myself to be happy flying solo. Imagine my surprise as I found myself spending time, quite innocently at first, with a man whose often silly repartee and penchant for tickling could arouse a glut of girlish giggles from this jaded divorcee. Laughter notwithstanding, this man shares my love for creative exploration both in the studio and out in the larger world we inhabit. We share a passion for music, art, nature, travel and things that go VROOM! I now find myself, at the middle of my life, feeling in love as if for the first time, enjoying every minute and wanting to share our adventures with you dear reader, for adventure is not just something we seek, but crave.
So here it begins, an online documentary, journal, memoir, oftentimes comedic tale, of two individuals connected on a level formerly unfamiliar to us both, wishing to share our expeditions about the planet hand in hand (or riding two up on our fine motorcycle) with you dear reader. Join us while we discover persons, places and things beyond our scope of knowledge or experience.
Sit back and relax, grab a cup of joe (or a glass of wine, stein of beer, a hi-ball perhaps…) and ride along with us as we conquer the desperate need for a shower while experiencing many a day in the great outdoors, hike our way about the mountain trails of California and beyond (CornNuts, cameras, a metric ton of jerky and fanny pack in tow) in an attempt to get the best view money cannot buy, road trip around the US in search of motels with fetching topiary and attempt to make Ken Burns proud by visiting as many National Parks as we can reach on a shoestring budget. Be our companion as we traverse roads scarcely driven. (This is not a metaphor as the love of my life has a penchant for asphalt. We have embarked upon many a fire road, roads closed to the public and plenty of strips of concrete that reach out beyond the horizon where passing another vehicle is a rarity. ) Pay witness to harrowing tales of helmet hair survival (okay, mine not his). Battle the insidiousness of air mattress deflation. Share our misery as we watch our electronic devices succumb to a slow and painful demise at camp. Ride along as we set out on the ubiquitous search for souvenir iron-on patches at every stop we make. Listen to us as we once again debate the correct size and scope of a proper campfire. Ponder with us the nature of pirate-themed establishments in landlocked mountain destinations. Witness how many pairs of shoes it is possible to cram into a suitcase or a motorcycle case while still maintaining enough room for camera equipment and more souvenir purchases. Join us as we attempt to ascertain how much jerky and string cheese the human body can digest successfully while in a sitting position for endless hours.
Oh, come on! It’s going to be fun for the road is open, the sky is vast and our hearts are dedicated to one another, the spirit of adventure and a desire to see it all...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)