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Inside
Yosemite: A Web Log for 2003
by Beth Pratt, Y.A.'s Vice President/CFO Join
Beth in her Yosemite adventures! She'll update this journal weekly
with tales of her backcountry excursions, Yosemite news and events,
and Yosemite Association happenings. Send her questions, comments,
and suggestions at bpratt@yosemite.org
Wednesday, December 10 Let it snow! A viable winter storm has finally enveloped Yosemite, and should continue through this weekend. The current snow level is at 5,000 feet, with a predicted accumulation of seven inches overnight. The past few storms have been fickle, tempting us with overcast skies and light rain, yet dissipating before granting us any satisfying levels of precipitation. At last, a snowfall that might herald the true beginning of the ski season at Badger Pass! Being a cross-country skier, I don’t need much snow to be happy. Thoreau said that being on the snow is like “walking in the sky upside down.” Winter is a sublime season in the park, and some of the most peaceful memories I have in Yosemite are while gliding along Glacier Point Road, reveling in the quietness of the snowfall. Perhaps a cloud has the same prevalent silence that is almost mystical in nature. The miles of cross-country ski trails at Glacier Point provide great skiing opportunities for any level of skier. Beginners can refine their skills on the groomed track, while more advanced skiers can take advantage of the more difficult side trails or venture cross-country. I hope to be skiing in the high country this weekend! Thursday, November 20 As a native New Englander, I think of the fall season as a prolonged sunset, trees bursting in orange, red, yellow, and brown before retiring for the winter. I have been largely unimpressed by the fall colors in California, although I will admit the aspens’ golden show on the east side of the Sierra is quite splendid (just not on par with say, miles of maple trees waving multi-colored leaves in Vermont). This year has been an exception. Not only did the aspen leaves fluctuate from stunning shades of amber to a brassy gold, but the moderately cold, yet relatively dry fall has enabled those photosynthesizing plants to retire in style! My morning commute up the river canyon has been decorated with vibrant color. Amber-yellow grasses highlight the banks of the Merced, while even the usual dull brownness of oak leaves seem imbued with an auburn tint. All my commute needs is a covered bridge, and I would be magically transported back to the New England falls of my youth. Wednesday,
October 29 Additionally, Butch Farabee just published a new book, National Park Ranger: An American Icon. The book explores the history of park rangers, described by Farabee as “an amalgam of Jedi Knight, Favorite Teacher, and Smokey Bear. As stewards of our nation’s treasures, they are heir to five thousand years of tradition: they celebrate this legacy with pride, reflect it with humility.” Thursday, October 23 I reached a low point last week. Actually, the lowest point in the continental United States. I took a brief vacation with my partner Shad, and we drove over the Tioga Pass (and the aspens were still a splendid gold) to explore Death Valley. Neither of us had visited the park before and thought we should make the journey before the pass closed. On one of my Mt. Whitney trips, I had planned to hike the 21 miles roundtrip to the summit, get in my car and drive a few hours to Death Valley, and then walk to Badwater so I could lay claim to being at the highest and lowest points in the continental U.S. in one day. It was one of those “it was a good idea at the time” ideas, and by the time I had completed the Whitney hike, I could only muster up the energy to eat a cheeseburger and find a motel room. I’m glad I waited to see Death Valley for the first time at a slower pace, not when I was rushed and exhausted from trying to complete some silly milestone. The starkness of the landscape requires patience to appreciate; the vastness of the desert does not lend itself well to a quick view. At Badwater, I stood on a salty plain (playa) that extended in all directions, a white-brick road of amazing magnitude. During the Pleistocene Ice Age, Lake Manly covered this valley, reaching over 100 miles long, six to eleven miles wide, and over 600 feet deep. Today a small, spring-fed pool serves as a ghostly memory of the lake. From our position, 282 feet below sea level, we peered up at the cliffs that stand guard 5,000 above us. Telescope Peak, visible to the west, reaches over 11,000 feet into the sky. Monday, October 13 Perhaps in return for a very wet spring, and a summer filled with atypical storms, Mother Nature has rewarded us Sierra dwellers with stunning fall weather. This past weekend I journeyed up to Tuolumne Meadows to check out the fall color and take advantage of the perfect hiking weather. I decided to explore the Cathedral Lakes area, a region that attracts many visitors in the regular summer season—and with good reason. Over lakes that reflect the rich blueness of the sky stands the grand summit of Cathedral Peak, reaching for the heavens. The granite peak does resemble the spires of an ancient European cathedral, sans the stained glass windows. For my excursion, I decided to begin the hike with the cross-country route to Budd Lake. Coincidently, given our recent recall election, the lake was named for James H. Budd, the governor of California from 1895-1899. Does that mean we might one day have a Schwarzenegger Lake in Yosemite? Nestled under the arm of Unicorn Peak, Budd Lake provides a fairy-tale like setting for those wishing to relax in the high country. Sitting on the shore, with a view of the clan of Echo Peaks, I felt transported into a Tolkien or other mythological story and almost expect to see a unicorn emerge from the surrounding forest. Is that why the peak is named Unicorn? Because try as I might, I couldn’t really make out the figure of the unicorn from the shape of the granite rocks. I have the same problem with many of the constellations, so perhaps it’s just my lack of imagination. From Budd Lake, I continued southwest and climbed to the top of the saddle of Echo Peaks. To the north, I had front a row seat to watch the climbers as they scaled Cathedral, and to the south I had a view of Matthes Crest. Not wanting to tempt fate with my back, I decided to forgo the scramble to the top of one of the Echo Peaks, but I did try my hand at creating an “echo.” It worked! I descended into the basin that contained Cathedral Lakes and connected with the John Muir Trail for my walk back to Tuolumne. Although I have enjoyed the warm, dry fall, I realize that it’s time for some precipitation—many of the creek beds and pools I passed were dry, patiently waiting for the winter to arrive to resurrect them. As for the fall color, the aspens have begun transforming the Tioga Road into a pastel canvas of yellow and green. I think next weekend will be prime viewing. Saturday, October 4 Today we celebrated our association’s success this year with a delicious barbeque provided by Kevin Kelly, the Chief Operations Officer at Delaware North Parks and Resort at Yosemite. Any member who had donated $1,000 or more this year was eligible to attend this event, held at Kevin’s home on the Ahwahnee Meadow. I enjoyed meeting our supporters and admire their commitment to our association and to this park. During the dinner, a helicopter landed in the meadow, transporting those investigating the rock slide that had occurred earlier today. Portions of Northside Road were closed, but we had not yet heard the extent of the rockslide when I left after dinner. Saturday, September 20 Just received the news: I have another ruptured disk in my back. What’s the record I asked my physician? He advises me to live my life and attributes my partial recovery (i.e., that I am not still lying in bed) to being in good shape and having a high tolerance for pain. I thought I’d celebrate having two ruptured disks with a hike. Although I have frequented the Gaylor Lakes region this year, I had not yet climbed peak 12,002 (called Sharsmith Peak for the late ranger by the Yosemite community). It’s a relatively easy hike, involving a fun boulder scramble to reach the craggy summit. I had wonderful views of Granite and Gaylor Lakes, and as a bonus, watched as a golden eagle soared over the basin. I’m happy to report that my back made some noises in protest, but remained in good shape. Monday, September 15 Another successful members meeting! Claude Fiddler spoke about the wonders of Yosemite wilderness, and debunked all of the intellectual theories about the “true” nature of wild places with his exuberant yell of “YEEEEEEEEAAAHHH!” (his theory on the meaning of wilderness). Anne Macquarie, a contributor to Yosemite Once Removed, and a former Yosemite Back country ranger, read a poem about visiting Benson Lake as an adult, with an adult’s physical limitations (aches, pains, etc...that did not exist in youth), which resonated with all of us who experience age creeping into our physical activity. On Sunday, I lead an energetic group up to Gaylor Lakes and the Great Sierra Mine for an interpretive hike. My father and brother, both visiting from New England, accompanied me, and both completed the hike despite their coming from sea level and not being used to high altitude walks. My dad affectionately calls the Tioga Road “The Valley of Death.” Being a born and bred New Englander, he hasn’t driven on too may mountain roads on the east coast. Tuesday, September 2 My regular journal readers will note a rather lengthy absence from my reporting. I do apologize and I can even offer a good excuse. My ruptured disk decided to give me some misery, and I had to remain in bed for over a week. My activity was limited to crawling from the bedroom to the living room couch for a change of scenery. Being immobile for a week tried my patience, but at least I caught up on my movie viewing and reading. I’m happy to report that I am recovering fast and should be back on the trail soon. Monday, August 18 My friends ended their visit with a guided rock climb in Yosemite Valley with the Yosemite Mountaineering School (they provide excellent guided trips). Since I don’t do the “death stuff,” I didn’t join them for their adventure (when my feet come off the ground I start getting nervous). They returned from their day-long climb enchanted with the park and exhilarated at climbing a granite wall in Yosemite. What intrigued me was the name of their route: C.S. Concerto. I won’t repeat what the C.S. stands for, but will hint that it refers to a common sexual expletive. My curiosity was piqued and I checked out a climbing books. The names of the routes are filled with a wonderful poetry. I can only imagine the story behind some of these designations. From my brief perusal of the guidebooks, here are some of my favorites: No Love-Chump Sucker Kung Pao Chicken Boogie with Stu Desperate for Donuts Gidget Goes to Yosemite God Told Me to Skin You Alive Your Pizza is Ready Thursday, August 14 My close friend from high school and her partner arrived for a week-long visit and I gave them a grand-tour of the park, beginning with three days in Tuolumne Meadows. Lisa and Becky’s constant exclamations of wonderment made me enjoy (for once) the long drive up the Tioga Road. I’ve been away from New England for almost fifteen years, and I am used to the western largess that is at first astounding to those from the east coast. The highest mountains back east rise only on to the 6,000 feet above sea level mark, and peek out from dense forests that hide most of their base. “How can New Hampshire even claim to be the granite state?” Becky asked after seeing the view from Olmsted Point. On our first afternoon, we strolled up to Gaylor Lakes, and I told them of the mining history of the area while we munched on cookies and stared at the blue waters reflecting the clouds. I had read recently the haunting story of two mules who stumbled on the descent to Sardine Lake and plunged to their deaths in the seemingly bottomless depths, “never to be seen again.” They were carrying cases of whiskey and sardines for one of the miners. Dana Village, Bennettville, and the other mining towns of the area are all filled with a rich history. Did you know the Tioga Road was originally named the Great Mining Road? Or that Bennettville once boasted the highest elevation post office to operate in California? For more tales of the mining ghost town, see Ghost Mines in Yosemite, by Douglass Hubbard. No grand tour of Tuolumne would be complete without a trip to the Mobil Station. My friends were very doubtful about dining at a gas station, and were much relieved to see the menu at the Whoa Nellie Deli. I selected the lobster taquitos once again. The next day, since my friends were not used to the altitude, I took them on the relatively easy Mono Pass trail. We watched the cumulus clouds form overhead, and I checked my barometer to see if we were in for a storm. I’ll need to do some research to substantiate this claim, but this year seems to be a record one for afternoon thunderstorms. I feel like I’m hiking in the Rocky Mountains. I guess I’ll have to get used to getting up at the crack of dawn again in order to finish ascents before the afternoon. California weather made me lazy for a while! Monday, August 11 Being Irish, I felt a certain duty to check out the valley in Tuolumne whose name came from the Gaelic tongue (Gleann Alainn is the traditional spelling). Glen Aulin always seemed out of place in a region with landmarks named for western explorers and scientists, and with Native American terms and references to obscure (and not so obscure) anecdotal legends. (The naming of Lost Bear Meadow is my favorite obscure story. A little girl, Shirley Miller, was lost for three days in the park. When her rescuers finally found her she replied, “I am not lost but the bear is lost. He went away and got lost.”) Glen Aulin seems more appropriate to a landmark in a Tolkien tale or the Irish countryside than Yosemite. But then again, Yosemite does have Ireland Lake. I’ve avoided in my travels the more popular Tuolumne hikes like Sunrise, Volgelsang, and Glen Aulin, preferring to seek out areas of more solitude. For my first “test hike” after rupturing a disk in my back, I decided to take a more populated route in case my back decided to be a poor sport. And I had heard of the beautiful waterfalls in Glen Aulin and wanted to see them for myself. Although my back did not cooperate, and I hiked with a fair amount of pain, my reward was watching the Tuolumne River flow by me gracefully as I strode along the trail, and seeing the personalities of Tuolumne and California Falls, and White Cascade. I stopped by the Glen Aulin High Sierra Camp, and gave a message to the manager of the camp, Tom, a friend of Steve (our President). Tom told me stories of his travels around the globe and asked me to scold Steve for not including the position of the S.F. Giants in the standings. I camped near California Falls, and sat near the river, watching the land and its inhabitants prepare for sleep. A deer walked into my camp noiselessly, gazed at me for a moment, and continued on her search for a bed. Fish jumped out of the water, searching for their evening feast, competing with the bats overhead for the unlucky insects. Tuesday, August 5 Happy Birthday YA! Yesterday we celebrated 80 years of supporting Yosemite National Park. Such a momentous occasion called for a party, and we certainly did not fail in that regard. We assembled a great group of National Park Service staff, Yosemite Association board and employees, our members, and park visitors, who helped us celebrate our accomplishments and consume some very delicious birthday cake (chocolate with white chocolate frosting - very yummy). Mike Tollefson, the park Superintendent, joined a list of speakers who recognized our efforts. Bob Hansen from the Yosemite Fund traveled from San Francisco to participate, Mary Gearheart, board member of the Association of Partner for Public Lands, came from Arcadia. Debbie Hurley presented us with a statement of Congressional Record from Congressman Radanovich’s office, Shelly Abajian read thanks from Senator Diane Feinstein, and Senator Barbara Boxer sent her greetings via letter. We decided that on our birthday we would give gifts. Our association began in 1923 in order to fundraise for a museum, and had its early roots in assisting museum and research development in the park. We thought it appropriate to commemorate our anniversary by presenting some gifts to the museum and research library. Among them were a beautiful Western Mono basket made between 1940 and 1950, six rare and hard-to-find travel books for the the library, and for the museum, a Carleton Watkins mammoth photographic print and a set of 35 stereoviews made in Yosemite by T.C. Roche in 1860. If you missed this event, please join us in Fresno on August 17th for an evening at the Fresno Metropolitan Museum. Ranger Shelton Johnson will be presenting his award-wining Buffalo Soldiers of the Sierra Nevada program. So Happy 80th Birthday YA! Monday, July 22 I had a grand weekend up in Tuolumne: a wonderful literary experience, Mobil station dining, a gorgeous hike, and even a couple of thunderstorms to satisfy my weather addiction. For those of you who have not yet attended a program at Parsons Memorial Lodge, let me introduce you to the terrific offerings that ranger Margaret Eissler assembles each summer. Margaret is the “heart” of Tuolumne Meadows. She spent the summers of her early childhood in Tuolumne (if you look at the exhibits at Parsons Lodge you can see several photographs of Margaret as a child), as her parents were caretakers at the lodge, and began working in the park herself in 1985. Each summer she organizes a series of lectures at Parsons. On Saturday, Jock Reynolds, Director of the Yale University Art Gallery, gave a slide presentation on photographer Emmet Gowin. His work is collected in the book, Emmet Gowin: Changing the Earth Aerial Photographs. He was joined by a surprise guest, author Terry Tempest Williams (a contributor to Emmet’s book), who gave an impassioned reading of her work and somehow gave us hope, even given the current world situation, that our wild places won’t be forever lost. Check the program listings in Yosemite Today on the NPS website for a complete schedule of events. Some upcoming programs at Parsons to note: Butterflies of the Sierra, a slide presentation by naturalist Bob Stewart and the Tuolumne Meadows Poetry Festival featuring David Mas Masumoto and Tom Crawford. During the event, rain clouds strolled lazily above us and watered the meadows. Not to be outdone by the speakers, the storm asserted its presence with some crashes of thunder and flashed a few streaks of lightning. Few scenes are as picturesque as a thunderstorm over the High Sierra. The next day the storm system, which was probably the residue of Hurricane Claudette appeared to have dissipated. Although it rained into the night, we awoke to find clear sunny skies in Tuolumne and looked forward to a perfect day to climb some mountains. My partner, Shad, and I had breakfast at Tuolumne Lodge, and spoke with a father and daughter from New Jersey, who were hiking to Glen Aulin that day, and a couple from San Francisco, who were seeking wildflowers. We all expressed the hopeful opinion that the storm system had passed. After all, this is California, where it never rains! I often brag to my friends in the Rockies or back east that I don’t even carry rain gear on most of my excursions. I once spent two weeks on the John Muir Trail without seeing even a cloud in the sky!
Well, I was made to eat my words. It actually can rain sometimes in California. That day, we took the boat across Saddlebag Lake and began our hike up to North Peak. As we strolled though the lovely basin that contains Conness Lakes, the tops of cumulus clouds peered over the Sierra crest.
Watching the clouds, we began climbing, and sure enough the cumulus clouds became cumulus congestus and were heading toward the cumulonimbus stage very rapidly. Thinking we still had time to reach the summit before the thunderstorms were fully developed, we continued up, but a half a mile from the peak the first roar of thunder sounded. I turned to Shad and said one word, “DOWN!” Shad, having never been on a high mountain pass during a thunderstorm, continued to snap photos as I scurried down the mountain in record time. Sometimes ignorance is bliss. I love to watch storms, yet after having been caught a few times in high places with my hair standing up on end and the thunder sounding like a gunshot next to my ear, I always try to avoid such situations!
As we strolled back past Conness Lakes, my pace more leisurely now that I was near some cover, we watched the gray clouds build in strength and surround the ridge. Two brave souls had hiked up one of the remaining snowfields and we followed their small distant forms as they sailed down on skis. Friday, July 18 Today I interviewed our new Superintendent, Michael Tollefson, for our members’ journal. Superintendent Tollefson began working in Yosemite on January 4th, and has been very supportive of our association. He originally hails from Seattle, although he has worked in many parks across the country. He is a quiet, gracious man, who I’ve enjoyed working with during his short time in the park, and I think he will accomplish much for the good of Yosemite during his tenure here. Watch for the full interview in our upcoming issue of Yosemite. Monday, July 14 I spent the weekend in Rocky Mountain National Park, and had a wonderful and knowledgeable tour guide, Curt Buchholtz, Executive Director for the Rocky Mountain Nature Association. Curt has authored several books, including A History of Rocky Mountain National Park. He also has left an impressive legacy at Rocky Mountain with his tireless (and very successful) efforts in fundraising. He has raised money to build visitor centers and to acquire land that adjoins the park. On Saturday night we were joined by Kathy, who works for the newly renamed Golden Gate National Parks Conservancy, and her mother. We spoke about the importance today of all non-profits involved in environmental work while we dined on hot potato salad, a specialty of Mary’s Lake Lodge.
Although I thought I might tackle Longs Peak (one of Colorado’s fourteeners) for a hike, some photographs showing the exposure involved for the last mile quickly changed my mind (those of you who read this journal regularly know I only like to climb mountains you can’t fall off of). Imagine climbing Half Dome without the cables! That is what a portion of the Longs Peak trail involves. No thanks! At the advice of Curt, we settled instead on a relatively easy eight mile hike up to Twin Sisters Peak, which had a stunning view of Longs. I could enjoy the mountain without having to climb it! Saturday, July 5, 2003 Happy Day after the 4th of July! Although I intended to be spending the weekend in Tuolumne, a combination of factors has kept me in the low country. I am attending a leadership intensive in Denver, which I leave for tomorrow, and I need to finalize all of my pre-course homework. Additionally, taking a week off from work has necessitated the completion of several projects. I hope that sounds like a good enough excuse! Even as I sit here writing it I am tempted to say the “heck with it all” and jump in my car and head up Tioga Road. I will be posting my adventures in Colorado, as I am planning a three-day trip after the class ends to Rocky Mountain National Park. My affinity for national parks has its roots at Rocky Mountain. When I was a teenager, I gazed longingly at the photographs in my book, America’s National Parks, and vowed one day to visit them all, especially those magnificent mountains out west. The first wish fulfilled was at Rocky Mountain National Park. I flew out from Denver with a friend and we hitchhiked from Estes Park. During the entire trip I hiked though the area in amazement. These were real mountains! The highest peak I had climbed back east was Mount Washington, a mere 6,288 feet. (I shouldn’t be so blaise – although it’s small compared to western peaks, Mt. Washington does boast the highest recorded wind speed in the world of 231 mph and hikers sometimes experience what some have dubbed “ the worst weather in the world” while climbing it.) These mountains rose into the sky, climbing to height of over 14,000 feet. I loved the bigness, the sense of enormity that the Rockies represented. After that trip I knew I would leave the east coast for the largeness of the western landscape, and my road eventually led me to Yosemite. Aside from my marveling at the landscape, two other first-time experiences at Rocky Mountain National Park left a lasting impression on my life. I met my first “official” park ranger there and attended my first ranger-led nature program. The ranger transmitted his enthusiasm and passion for the park to me, and I remember thinking, this is the career for me! He led us in a song, sung to the tune of “Take Me Out to the Ballgame”, about Rocky Mountain National Park. The second experience was discovering the writing of Enos Mills, the John Muir of the Rockies. Like Muir, he wrote eloquently and passionately about his wilderness experiences, and battled against development in the park. I visited his cabin and met his daughter, Edna, who kept her father’s legacy alive. While I was in the park, I read Wildlife on the Rockies, and his essay, “The Story of A Thousand Year Pine.” So I’m off to the Rockies! For those of you who may have visited Yosemite this weekend, please email me your experiences. Your stories will help me withstand five days of sitting in a classroom! Wednesday, July 2, 2003 I’m heading up to Tuolumne Meadows on Friday for a hike; I haven’t decided between climbing Mt. Gibbs or journeying out to Glen Aulin. Any suggestions? Check back next week for a full report! I checked with our Tuolumne Visitor Center staff about trail conditions, but no trail reports have come in since June 20th. However, our wonderful Tuolumne correspondent (and YA staff member) Gretchen reports “that the meadows are bare of snow but out towards Tioga Pass much snow is still visible. The meadows are beautiful and the wildflowers are starting to bloom.” When I asked her about the pie selection this week at TPR, she said she hasn’t yet sampled their pie. We’ll have to rectify that soon! Thursday, June 19, 2003 I received an email from someone who had read my article on the amazing cloud formation called the Sierra Wave, and wanted to know the best time to sight one “in the wild.” (you can access the full article in our Nature Notes section http://www.yosemite.org/naturenotes/SierraWave.htm). With all of my hiking and cloud watching, I have only been lucky enough to see the wave once, although smaller wind formed lenticular clouds frequently occur in the high country. The winter months provide the best conditions for wave formations, yet the cloud’s mighty crest can loom over the Sierras anytime of year. My sighting occurred in August, during an intense fire season, which had probably wreaked havoc on normal summer conditions. My best advice for a wave sighting: spend lots of time in the Sierras Friday, June 13, 2003 The last two days have been a sort of "grand tour" of Tuolumne and the east side for me. We opened our Tuolumne Meadows Visitor Center yesterday, and I conducted staff training and helped set up the store. One of the rites of summer: stocking Junior Ranger Handbooks and Yosemite Road Guides on our shelves in the high country. If you are in the area, please stop in at the visitor center and say hi to our dedicated staff: Jesse, Gretchen, and Jean. I treated them to a Tioga Pass Resort (TPR) lunch with the requisite piece of pie (we had blueberry!) to show our appreciation for their hard work. The key word in Tuolumne is snow! After finishing at the store, I headed out to Gaylor Lakes. The beginning of the trail had patches of snow, but most of the ascent was clear, but wet. When I arrived at the crest a snowy world returned. A wind-formed cornice hugged the ridge to the southeast, so I strolled over to Gaylor Peak, which was relatively free of snow. My ascent to the top of the peak was rewarded with a view of frozen Gaylor Lakes blanketed in white, with the severe Sierra Crest standing guard in the background. The lake peeked out of the snow in a few areas with turquoise eyes, but the white hue dominated most of the basin. That night I stayed in Lee Vining and fulfilled another rite of summer: dinner at the Whoa Nellie Deli. For those of you have not yet partaken in the fine cuisine served in the Mobil Station-run, don't walk! I feasted on lobster taquitos and the best clam chowder I've have ever tasted (no small claim coming from a native New Englander!). Matt, the master chef and a die-hard baseball fan, advised me that the Red Sox's chances this year probably weren't good. Before returning to my hotel, I drove to Mono Lake and strolled on the boardwalk thought the tufas and willow trees. The evening quickly became (dare I use the overused word magical? I think I will) magical. I walked alone in the late dusk, with the wind singing in the trees and a symphony of birdsong accompanying the full moon. The tufas stood like sentries watching the passage to the lake. On my way back to my car, I noticed the swings in the picnic area. Being the sole inhabitant of the park I thought why not? For what seemed like hours I swung back and forth, reaching my legs to the sky as if I were about to leap over the still, blue-grey lake. The moon bounced back and forth in my sight. Next day I munched on a bagel as I drove back into the park, readying myself for an excursion up Mt. Dana. The last inaugural rite of summer: my annual hike to the top. Mt. Dana embodies everything I love in a mountain climb: soft, velvet meadows, blooming flowers, and an imposing yet non-technical summit. No ropes, clips, or any gear required. Jack Kerouac said that you can't fall off a mountain, which I can't see as being universally true, but you certainly can't fall off of the north side of Dana. It's a big boulder pile. My scramble up 1,000 feet of rocks at least make me feel like I've done something worthy, even if a technical climber might scoff at the class 1 ratings the ascent to Dana holds. Although several large snowfields covered some areas, unlike the surrounding peaks buried in a blanket of white in view, most of the mountain was snow-free. Last year when I hiked this trail, the cornflowers were blooming; this year the vegetation is scarce. Spiders, however, were the most ubiquitous lifeforms I saw on the hike. Small gray, black and one almost greenish creature were scurrying among the rocks and over the snow. At the summit I met a few Yosemite veterans. Rich, who worked in the Bay Area, got his first glimpse of Mt. Dan when he was sixteen and vowed that he would climb it. Although he had accumulated an impressive list of mountaineering and rockclimbing accomplishments in the over twenty years since that day, this was his first ascent of Dana. I watched as he strapped on his telemark skis and boldly and gracefully descended down the east face. I am way too chicken to even think of such a feat, but I admired his confidence. Another hiker, Marcos, had made the ascent to Dana's summit many times. His father had taken many of Carl Sharsmith's classes and was a lifetime YA members. My descent went quickly, aided by the large snowfields I had avoided on my climb to the top. After donning my rainpants, I sat down and used the snow as a giant slide. The snowcups were small, the snow was soft and I'm sure my fellow hikers heard my cries of delight as I sped down the mountain. Wednesday, June 11, 2003 Planned to backpack from Tuolumne to the Valley via Sunrise and Clouds Rest, but I've just checked with the Wilderness Office and a staff member who just returned from that area said the trail up to Cathedral Lakes still has waist high snow in some places. The idea of sinking through snow with a forty pound pack on doesn't sound that appealing, so I'm taking my ice ax and going to do some exploring on a couple of day hikes. Mt. Dana is a nice early season hike because you can slide down the snowfields on the way down. I might also try a jaunt up to Glen Aulin or up Lyell Fork. I'll report in on Monday the conditions. And of course I'm looking forward to dining at the Mobil Station: fish tacos and their famous cheesecake! Sunday, June 8, 2003 Our quarterly board meeting yesterday prevented me from driving up the newly opened Tioga Road and exploring the high country this weekend, yet I didn't mind too much. A group of talented people dedicated to Yosemite sits on our board. Unlike corporate board meetings where the focus is on maximizing shareholder value, our meetings reinforce our ongoing commitment to the park. Christy Holloway, our chairperson, has been active in the environmental field for decades and has many landmark accomplishments under her belt, especially her work with Peninsula Open Space Trust. Malcolm Margolin has been a one-man artistic force for California since he founded Heyday Books in 1974, publishing a diverse list of books on California history, natural history, and Native American Studies, as well as an array of poetry and prose. Gerald Barton owns and operates the largest walnut ranch in California. I could fill a book with a list of accomplishment by our board members, but I'll summarize with the observation that our meetings are lively, productive and never lack for interesting conversation. The question displayed in the NPS Interpretive conference room in Yosemite, "Is it in the best interest of the park?" gets posed over and over again as our board makes decisions. Our meeting was held at the grand Ahwahnee Hotel, and since I couldn't hike, I thought I'd pass along some anecdotal stories of the Ahwahnee. If you get chance, try to attend one of the interpretive history walks given at the Ahwahnee when you visit the park. Julie Miller, a former park ranger and YCS Interpreter, presented a wonderful session that I was lucky enough to be able to attend, filled with fascinating and fun stories. Let me dazzle you with a few fun facts I learned on my walk with Julie. Did you know that the original design for the hotel called for the entrance to circle around the dining room and end up in what is now the Indian Room bar? Just ten days before the hotel's opening the flaw in this design was exposed, with the noise and fumes of the delivery trucks causing discomfort to the guests in the rooms above. Imagine changing a major part of the design in just ten days! During World War II, the Ahwahnee became a convalescent hospital. Furnishings and artwork were moved into storage to make room for the troops. Despite its rustic appearance, most of the exterior at the Ahwahnee is not wood. In order to make the hotel fireproof, concrete molds were used for the siding and beams, complete with a saw mark design for authenticity! And, yes, like all old hotels, the Ahwahnee does have a ghost story. But you'll have to go on one of Julie's walks to hear it -she tells the tale much better than I could. Saturday, May 31 I usually initiate the hiking season with a jaunt up the Yosemite Falls trail, which I typically complete in April or May, but April's constant rain disrupted my schedule. Mother Nature can be so inconvenient! The above average late precipitation, however, made for a robust falls, full of life and roaring at us hikers. Past Columbia Point, at the first view of the upper falls, mist from the vertical waves danced on the air, and cooled my over heated body! With my usual sense of perfect timing, I had picked a 90F day to hike and began my hike at 10:00 am, just in time for the afternoon sun. For those of you who haven't yet hiked the Yosemite Falls Trail, let me recite some scary statistics. The trail runs 3.3 miles straight up for an elevation gain of 3,000 feet. Do the math and the elevation gain comes out to 1,000 feet per mile. Try that on a stairmaster! Yet despite the strenuous nature of the hike, the opportunity to stand directly over the crest of upper Yosemite Falls and watch it plunge 1,400 feet below makes the effort well worth it. Once of the best parts about living and working near Yosemite is the chance to observe the park in different seasons. Although I could probably walk the Yosemite Falls Trail in my sleep (having completed it well over two dozen times), some aspect of the hike is always different. One year most of the final switchbacks were covered in snow, and an ice crystal hung down the falls like a holiday ornament. Another year I made the trip in April on a particularly windy day, and the force of the wind tore the falls in two at times. This year the trail was clear of any snow or even water. At the crest of the ridge, two red snowplants peeked out, probably wondering why they had waited to arrive only to greet the hot weather. The view from the top revealed a saturated valley overrun in places by the gorged Merced River. Faint memories of the flood of 1997 resounded, although the high water was not even close to that year's mark. Yet the meadows were decidely boggy in all directions. On my descent, I had a once-in-a-lifetime experience. A rainbow stretched from the trail to the cliff below. I was actually able to touch the end of the rainbow, although the legendary pot of gold was not in sight. Except if you count the stunning view of Yosemite Falls at its peak. Friday, May 29 We just received a press release announcing the opening of Tioga Road this weekend. Hooray! Despite the scorching temperatures we experienced this past week, summer has not yet arrived until the pass opens to the high country. Since I began working for the Yosemite Association over fours years ago, we've enjoyed relatively early opening dates from mid-to-late May. I thought May 30 was extremely late and I kept lamenting my fate until I did a bit of research. How dare I complain! In 1998, Tuolumne aficionados had to wait until July 1st for access to the high country. However, since 1980, the pass has opened after May 31 only six times: 1980 (June 6), 1983 (June 29), 1993 (June 3), 1995 (June 30), 1997 (June 13) and 1998 (July 1). Only once in the past twenty-three years has it opened before May 1st; those visiting the park in 1988 were able to access the high country via car on April 29. Incidentally, closing dates seem to be a little more predictable. Although opening dates have a range of 62 days since 1980, closing dates only vary by 36 days (November 5 to December 11). Summer is more fickle in her arrival. I've been gazing longingly at the photographs in our new book, Yosemite Once Removed, Claude Fiddler's poem by camera tribute to Yosemite' backcountry. Soon I'll be able to slide down Mt. Dana's snowfields on my raingear or listen to the wind rush up the Kuna Crest. My first planned backpack is an early season jaunt to Mt. Watkins, where the delicate Lewisia has a brief flowering season after the snow melt. Stay tuned for this summer's backcountry adventures! Wednesday, May 21 Today, I visited our Hill Studio Store and Visitor Center at the Wawona Hotel to conduct some employee training, and my shameful neglect of the southern area of the park was exposed. When one of my new employees asked advice about hiking trails in Wawona, I had to admit that my travels in the area had been limited to Chilnualna Falls and the Mariposa Grove. I had been a victim of Wawona-blindness, a fairly common yet curably ailment. Once the snow melts and the pass opens, I become Tuolumne focused and tend to forget that some wonderful hiking exists in the southern area of the park. According to Jeffery Schaffer's Yosemite National Park: A Natural History Guide to Yosemite and Its Trails (one of my favorite hiking guides), the Wawona area boasts some excellent yet little used hiking trails. A foray along Bishop Creek in springtime will reward one with a view of a rainbow of wildflowers. Another backpack Schaffer outlines visits seven lakes including Royal Arch, Buena Vista, and Chilnuala. And how could I have missed exploring the tranquil shores of Chain Lakes near Chiquito Pass? This season, I make a solemn promise to alternate my explorations in Wawona and Tuolumne. If you don't find some journal entries describing hikes in southern Yosemite, email me about fulfilling my promise! Saturday, May 10, 2003 Seattle or the Sierras? Last night I peered out my window and stared with fascination at a theater of a pristine night sky dancing with spots of light. For moment I felt like a character in Isaac Asimov's famous short story Nightfall, where inhabitants of a planet with three suns (and consequently no darkness) fear a coming eclipse because they might get a glimpse of those terrible, mythic creatures called "stars". I realized my confusion resulted from the weeks of greedy rain clouds dominating the skies day and night. Although our friends in Portland and Oregon may be accustomed to weekly rain showers, I am quite happy to live in a place where the rain sleeps from May to October, where the word winter doesn't quite apply to the weather from November through March (winter and 70 degree days don't ring as synonyms for me), and where "winter" storms are polite enough to occur only a once or twice a month (and usually not on weekends) and have the courtesy to allow for at least a week of sunny weather in between their visits. T.S. Eliot was right in calling April the cruelest month. The sun became an endangered species this past April and most of us who live in Yosemite began singing "rain, rain go away, come back some other day." What was the use of rain and snow in April? We couldn't ski since Badger Pass was closed and it only would delay Tuolumne opening for the season. No, we really couldn't think of one good reason for this month-long stretch of rain. Mother Nature, however, had plenty of good reasons for making April a tribute to Seattle in the Sierras. According to the data on the California Department of Water Resources (a great site for weather enthusiasts, hikers and skiers at http://cdec.water.ca.gov) the precipitation from October to March was running at 85% of normal. After April that jumped to 99%. Akin to the Patriots winning the Superbowl in the last seconds of the game, Mother Nature raced into the endzone with a touchdown of weather when we least expected it: April's rainfall exceeded the average by 225%. Saturday, May 3, 2003 "I have always responded to the grand, ephemeral gestures of Nature. Where there is lightning, fog or winter storm, I am alive with emotion. Through the teachings and inspiration of Ansel Adams I have been able to direct this energy to the making of exciting photographs." -- Bob Kolbrener Ansel Adams' photographs have defined the Yosemite landscape for generations. Bob Kolbrener has refined that definition in his own black and white portraits of the park, paying tribute to his teacher yet achieving his own style that distinguishes the student from the teacher. Being a weather buff, Bob first attracted my attention because of his fondness for photographing clouds and storms. When I wrote an article for the Yosemite Journal last year on the Sierra Wave, his was gracious enough to donate the use of his photograph of the cloud, the best image I have ever seen of the phenomena, to accompany the article. The photograph is now on display, with many of his other works, at the Ansel Adams Gallery. I was fortunate enough to be able to meet Bob and his wife at a reception for his work at the Ansel Adams Gallery in Yosemite Valley. Claudia, Ed, Glenn and the rest of the Ansel Adams staff always host a great reception, from bringing in talented artists to ensuring that the curry dip and good wine never runs out. Glenn also shares willingly his vast knowledge of all things photographic. Besides
being one of the nicest people I've ever met (along with his wife Sharon),
Bob's photography is stunning. I'm going to employ the writer's over
used defense here of saying words cannot describe his work. But truly,
I'm not just being lazy. Words truly cannot capture the vibrancy of
these images. A print of Bridalveil Falls appeared so lifelike that
I imagined I felt droplets of spray on my face as I gazed at it. If
you can't make a visit to the gallery, you can view Bob's work online
at www.anseladams.com. |
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