When I was growing up in the midwest, the "mountains" were the Smokies, those rounded hills covered in deciduous trees which are absolutely stunning in October, probably right about now, and in the spring, when they are dotted with purple redbuds and the barest touch of the bright vernal green of new leaves, and then a week later, the fluttery white blossoms of the dogwoods.
Then one summer we went to the Colorado Rockies, and I realized that here were the Purple Mountain Majesties of song. Snow capped and everything even in July. It took two days of tortuous driving in a loaded station wagon to reach them, but the pain of sitting so close to siblings and stuff for so long made the glory of the Rockies even greater.
But if the Rockies were awe-inspiring, I knew from National Geographic that even farther away existed the magnificence of Yosemite, with its craggy cliffs and crashing waterfalls. The west seemed full of great and powerful forces of nature. My elementary logic believed that the farther away the mountains were, the more grandeur they possessed.
Well, now we are only four hours from such grandeur, but it took us over a year to pack up and witness it firsthand. Perhaps I still suffer from an idea that those sites memorialized in Nat Geo and adventure books are far, far away.
Is Yosemite every bit as majestic as I imagined? Yes and no. The vistas are breathtaking, but the falls are dry from the drought. The cliffs are immense. The night sky is brilliant. The thin air is brisk. The hikes are challenging. But there is something a little commercial about the National Park experience. Yosemite is not as crowded as the Grand Canyon, but we were there during the off season. Because there are no campfires allowed in the area where we stayed, we ate dinner at the pizza place near one of the visitor's centers, where the Notre Dame game (robbed!) was playing, which thrilled (and baffled) my husband and sons. And we stayed in Curry Village, in a heated permanent tent with beds - a style of camping I could get used to... Our neighbors of 14 years ago set up the reservations. They now live in central California, also. It is wonderful to meet up with old friends.
So we weren't really in the wilderness that John Muir writes so eloquently of.
But we did see a bear!
And I loved every minute of watching the kids scramble over lichen covered granite, compete to find the biggest pine cone, mug for the camera in front of gigantic sequoias, and cavort along the trails pretending to be porcupines, pumas, and lost explorers.
Definitely worth the lifelong wait.
From John Muir:
In every walk with Nature one receives far more than he seeks.
Everybody needs beauty as well as bread, places to play in and pray in, where nature may heal and give strength to body and soul.
The power of imagination makes us infinite.
There is a love of wild nature in everybody, an ancient mother-love showing itself whether recognized or no, and however covered by cares and duties.
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| My brother-in-law said it is easy for everyone to be an Ansel Adams in a place like Yosemite. But it is not, even with digital cameras. This photo was taken as we were leaving the park at daybreak. I took about 3000 others. |
1 comment:
I'm so happy for you that you got up there finally! Your pictures are great. You'll just have to go back as soon as we get a wet year, and go earlier in the year, too, because to see Yosemite Falls in its glory you need to be there by the end of July even in a wet year. But it's very special to be in Yosemite in the fall, I think, more rugged, even at Camp Curry. It also sets you apart from the common tourists. :-)
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