On the mend
Missy | May 18, 2009
Ezra and Putney
My friend Ezra has had a tumultuous year. He started a small business, he got sick with cancer, he got engaged, he unexpectedly lost his father only very recently, and now he’s coming out of his illness just before his wedding. This week is his last chemo treatment and he’s hosting a group ride on Wednesday to & from, which is the fast boy way. He’s unbelieveably resilient but he also has an army at his back. Unfortunately, I’ll be there only in spirit as I cannot blow off work (though lord knows I’m tempted…) I don’t really have many role models in life but those I do have are usually people who I know and love. Ezra is one of those people.
Yosemite wrap-up, late
Missy | May 15, 2009
Yosemite Valley in the clouds. View (sort of) of El Capitan (left) and Bridalveil Falls (right) from Wawona Tunnel.
Were you wondering if I had fallen off of a cliff? I’d be lying if I said I didn’t slip and give myself a scare once or twice. (My mom doesn’t know what blogging is, so it’s okay for me to announce that). But I’m getting ahead of myself.
You know what is awesome? A rental car with satellite radio, which saved my sanity for the hours & hours in a car because there is no major airport near Yosemite, unless you count Fresno, which does not host JetBlue, my preferred cross-country airline of choice. I’ll tell you, though: I liked driving. I like not driving as a rule, but I like driving as an exception. You see, I am by choice carless, always have been. I bring this up only because I like driving when it means exploring new environments with the right tunes.
Of course, as soon as I got to Yosemite Valley and checked into the lodge, I grabbed my iPod shuffle and hopped on a bicycle.
As I suspected, the trail & destination I was most interested in was still closed for the season. I had to improvise so I started asking around. Although I love the solitude of these kinds of vacations–and prefer to run into as few humans as possible on the trails–I’m not a weirdo. I will in fact talk to people. I will, in fact, make friends with the locals at the local bar, including the hippie outdoorsy college dude who pointed me to the most challenging and out-of-the-way hike out of the valley. I’m not one to resist a challenge so I decided to do it the very next day. (Also, I knew my legs would be trashed eventually and I wanted fresh legs for this one.)
Snow Creek Falls Trail. I can’t even find much on the web about it. I was told it has 108 switchbacks to the top, ridiculously steep, in under 4 miles. The trail is very exposed but, mercifully, in the spring sun it wasn’t so bad. To say it tested my endurance is an understatement. Yes, I counted the switchbacks. It was all I could do to keep my pace and not turn around. Every 20 or so I’d take breaks, mostly to let my heart rate come back down. I ate Twizzlers. I took photos. The last mile or more up, I heard a wumping cadence; some backcountry campers on their way down told me there was a grouse and damn if I didn’t spot it in a tree! Ornithology, here I come. When I finally reached the top it became wooded and there was still snow. I sat on a flat rock on the bank of Snow Creek and ate my peanut butter & jelly lunch. (Unfortunately, that rock was damp & a little muddy and so became my bottom.) Coming back down was just as bad but in an entirely different way because of the stress on one’s knees. When I got back down into the valley, I went straight to the cafeteria for my second lunch, then back to my room to ice my knees, then to shower, then to the bar for a giant margarita. I went to bed at 8 pm.
Other things: the hike to Vernal and Nevada Falls, at this spectacular snow-melting time of year, required full-on rain gear. There’s mist, lots of mist. Lots of slippery rock, too. I decided to hike back down via the John Muir trail–hesitantly, as it was technically (I think) closed off, but I briefly joined up with some guys I had met at the top and we persevered through a short course of a downpour of water runoff and waded through ankle-deep water on a narrow trail, just before encountering trail-blocking snow that we had to climb over. Totally worth it!
I also drove down to Mariposa Grove, 1000 feet higher in the air and 10 degrees colder, and it became my new favorite place. There’s certainly a touristy element, but if you get there early and not in peak season, and are willing to trek up & in little bit, you find yourself all alone in the woods. It’s AWESOME. Seriously, I’ll never forget that hike, even though it was comparatively much easier than the others, and the views are only of trees. I loved it so much I bought a Mariposa Grove t-shirt at the gift shop. I think I wore it for the next four days. (I do that sometimes.)
I’ve very selectively edited down the photos from the three (!) cameras I brought. Full set here.
New favorite song vol 6
Missy | May 1, 2009
This little ditty is called “Quiet Little Voices” by Scottish band We Were Promised Jetpacks. (*sigh* We were, weren’t we.) WOXY and XMU have been all over it of late.
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Listening
Unmap
Volcano Choir
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Reading
A Supposedly Fun Thing I'll Never Do Again
David Foster Wallace
