Yes, I Might Just go to Yosemite

It is my first visit to Yosemite National Park. Friends have attempted to
describe it to me. But no words can ever do the park justice, they say. "You just have to go and see it for yourself." Having heard this phrase one too many times, I decide it really is high time I take to the hills.

Within minutes, I understand why the park is so loved by my friends. Surely
there are few other places, at least in the US, quite like it. Where else do snow-capped peaks stretch endlessly into the horizon, a massive river
cutting its way through the mountain range? At many points the granite cliffs tower more than 3000 feet above the valley. It is little wonder Ansel Adams, famed landscape photographer, insisted the area be declared a National Park in 1890.

At the first vista point a few miles into the park, I gaze for the first time over the valley, and its famous rock landmarks -- El Capitan, the Sentinal, Cathedral Peaks, and Glacier Point -- against the backdrop of the Half Dome. After the road twists down into the valley, the next stop is at Bridal Veil Falls. Nestled below the cliffs is Yosemite Village, next to Yosemite Falls. Combining the Upper and Lower Falls, this waterfall is considered the longest waterfalls in America.

Exhausted by a day full of fresh air, I retire to Housekeeping Camp for the night. My rustically-furnished tent has a concrete floor, a 'verandah' with a canvas roof, and a grill to barbecue. Many of the camp's tents are spread along the riverbank, under a canopy of huge trees. In the evening, it is not uncommon to catch sight of a deer grazing nearby. Nothing quite compares to an an evening like this one, watching the sun's golden glow fade against Yosemite's cliffs. I've beat the summertime rush, and the camp is incredibly peaceful. In this moment, I feel completely removed from the modern world, miles away from my urban existance. Indeed, it is the perfect antedote to city living.

Only one thing can spoil the feeling. Well, actually two. The bloody huge mosquitoes, and the wild bears. The mosquitoes are dealt with easily enough. Tons of spray, and a lot swatting. Bear troubles aren't quite so easily cured, however, and I take to my tent relatively early. Inside, I feel reassured. The Parks Department requires that all tents have a metal bear-proof lock. In this neck of the woods, bears are known to regularly wander into the camps at night in search for food.

The next morning, I don my walking shoes to hike up to the Vernal and Nevada Falls. Bikes and horses are popular options for maneuvering around the park. Perhaps I'd do that next time. Today I catch the shuttle bus, an initiative by the park's council to ease traffic and pollution. I hop off the bus at Happy Isles Nature Center, where the trail up to the falls begins. Back in 1996 there was a massive rock slide in the area, and the damage is still very evident. Many trees around are half-crushed and a the cliffside is visibly scared. Knock on wood there won't be another one.

At first, the hike up to Vernal Falls isn't too strenuous. Views of the rushing river can be seen from the bridge, less than a mile along the path. The next stage is a bit harder, climbing alongside the falls. It's not
called the Mist Trail for nothing and the rocks are becoming increasingly slippery. Rainbows shift in and out of our vision, and there are times when the rushing water feels close enough to touch. The Nevada Falls are 2.4 miles up the path. At the bridge, I soak up the scenery, dominated by the Half Dome. At 8,852 feet above sea level, it is probably the park's most well-known peak.

After a late picnic lunch, I take the shuttle bus two stops further along, to Mirror Lake on Tenaya Creek. The mile-long path is an easy stroll along a gently bubbling stream, its shoreline dotted with flowering Pacific Dogwoods. Along this stretch, there are more views of the half-dome. Named the "Lake
of Shining Rocks" by the Yosemite Indians, it is a place to truly appreciate nature. Walking along, I can see my campsite 3000 feet below. It is truly the high point of my trip. Before me stretches the panorama of a region carved by glaciers; a portrait detailing the power of ice. I couldn't be happier.

I complete my trip with a drive to an entirely different section of the park - the Tuolumne Meadows. At the Olmstead Point, "A Domed Landscape" I get the clearest view across to the Half Dome and the Sierras beyond.

John Muir once described Yosemite as "a grand page of a mountain manuscript, that I would gladly give my life to be able to read." Indeed, Yosemite is special. Next time I am feeling the big city blues, I'll return to the Yosemite trail.