Yosemite June 30 2025


This would be year two of the birthday hike in Yosemite tradition. Last year, I climbed to the top of Yosemite Falls. This year I thought I would go easier on myself and just hike down from Glacier Point to the Yosemite Valley via the Panorama trail. I had done this hike once before with the Queen where we combined it with climbing up the 4 Mile trail and then hiking down the Panorama trail. We did this in late March when the trail was still deep in snow and we were almost the only people at Glacier Point. I’m still trying to figure where the Queen and I had the physical fitness to do this hike.

This time, I was just going to have the Queen drop me off while I hiked down. According to the trail guides the only bad spot should be the 800’ climb out of the Illoutte Valley up to the top of Nevada Falls. I reasoned I should be find because I do an almost 650’ climb every day when I walk the dogs. This was going to be easy.

Long time followers will note that saying “This was going to be easy” usually dooms me to some circle of hell.

One thing that had to occur was we needed to be through the gates by 6am. Currently, you need a reservation to visit the park between 6am an 2pm. I was unable to get a reservation so I needed to get in before that. I also needed to give the dogs a bit of a walk before abandoning them for the day. Doing the travel/dog walk math meant I had to get up at 3am to walk the dogs and get going on time. So I did and we did. The Queen and I where through the gate by 5 and standing atop Glacier Point at 6:15. Yes, it’s a long way from the south gate to Glacier Point.

There were very few people there when we got there. Of course there was a Wedding Photographer and a Wedding party taking pictures on the famous curve overlooking Halfdome. I would have been more surprised if there wasn’t somebody taking photos there.

One of the great joys for me is hiking through the park in silence while admiring all the views around me. I left the Queen to photograph a deer while I headed for the trail. Sadly, another couple started their hike at almost the exact same time. Even worse, they walked at almost the same pace as me. The final nail in the coffin was the fact they needed to talk. Loudly. All I could hear was them chattering away. I tried to get ahead of them, but then I would stop to take a photograph and they would be with me. I kind of wanted to be ahead of them in case there was wildlife on the trail of which there was.

I heard this tremendous bird cry. I looked all around to discover the bird’s location. Couldn’t see the bird anywhere. I looked down at the ground and about a foot from me feet was a Grouse and it’s three chicks, not afraid of me at all. Just yelling at me to be gone. While I photographed, the chatty Kathy’s caught up with me.

I let them go in front of me and slowed down. After about a hundred yards, I realized there was another group behind me talking away. How was this possible. Yes, it’s summer in Yosemite but these were the only four people plus me on this trail. My mellow was severely harshed.

One of the trickiest falls to catch sight of is Illouette Falls. It comes out of the rocks at a weird angle so you can’t see it from the bottom like you can so many other falls. The only way to see it is find this secret overlook off the Panorama Trail. This was one of my main goals is to finally see the falls with water in them. Yes, I’m a coup counter. When I got to the overlook the chatty Kathy’s were already there chattering away.They were having some debate about where the water was coming from to feed the falls. They wouldn’t stop talking and they wouldn’t get out of the way.
Finally they left. I got in position and took my snaps. Coup counted. As i turned to go away the other talkers arrived behind me, a father and son. They’d been having quite the lively discussion about sports. The father said he and his boy had been following my lead and asked me if I had done the trail before. I admitted to doing it decades ago. My ire towards them lessened a bit because they seemed friendly and this might have been their first trip to the park.

A short time later, I was down at the bridge to cross the Illouette creek. The chatters were off, down by the riverbank. Father and son joined up with their family group. I decided to put some distance between them and I. The sun wasn’t hitting the creek, yet, so the pictures wouldn’t be any good for my tastes.

One rule of hiking is if you descend to see a creek, you are going to have to ascend to get away from the creek. This was where the 800’ climb started. Surprisingly, it went really well. The switchbacks were nice and long and not to steep. I was fooled by a couple of false shoulders where I thought I had made the top only to see more hill to climb. But the talkers were gone. I was in that glorious silence in the woods. All I heard was birdcalls and forest noises. Through gaps in the trees I espied great views of Half Dome. I could see the diving board area where Ansel Adams took his famous photo of Half Dome called Monolith. I was having a great time. I was making great time. Sadly, I was high enough up to receive cell services. I received a couple of texts from an electrician working on the house and some texts from my sisters as they talked about house painting in the other house we are selling.

But for an hour or so until I reached the top of Nevada Falls, it was really good. I stopped for a little break overlooking the top of Nevada Falls. I ate my Cliff Bar and some grapes. I was surrounded by squirrels who had no fear. I watched on almost climb onto the daypack of a women across from me. She was on her cell phone talking away and didn’t even register the incursion. I eventually gave in to the demands of the squirrels stalking me and handed over some grapes. For this effort they did make me their king, at least as long as the grapes lasted.

There are two bathrooms on the trail. One at the top of Nevada Falls and one at the top of Vernal Falls. When I got to the toilet at the top of Nevada Falls, it was closed for cleaning. There was a group of very disappointed people watching the man dig out the pit toilet.

If you don’t know the Panorama Trail, the trailhead starts at Glacier point, descends to the Illouette Creek and Falls, climbs up to Nevada Falls, descends some knee snapping switch backs to Vernal Falls and more switchbacks along the Mist trail. The trail ends in the valley at a place called Happy Isles. The Mist trail is so named because the trail travels so close to Vernal Falls, spray from the falls douses the trails. When Vernal Falls is in full flow hiking along the Mist Trail is like walking through a shower. Fortunately, I brought a poncho. Although I was going to make the decision to descend the Mist Trail when I got closer. My desensitized feet aren’t big on slippery surfaces.

At the top of Nevada Falls, I finally paid attention to a warning sign for the Mist Trail. Turns out, the Mist Trail was going to be closed, starting today, the day I did the hike for the rest of the summer, while they did maintenance work on the trail. I guess I wouldn’t need my poncho after all.

All this time, I’d been carrying my camera on a harness across my chest. It’s a clever way to have your camera right in front of you without it just hanging around your neck. I love it. It works great. The only downside, you can’t really see your feet when you step down because the camera body occludes that line of sight. Since I would be staring at my feet religiously while descending next to Nevada Falls, I opted to put my camera in my rucksack. Probably the best decision I made that day. I’d be sharing my tales of a med-evac rescue, otherwise.
The hike down was poor. It was all granite steps and ramps. There were plenty of points where I couldn’t see a spot to put my feet to descend. I tried to brace myself against rocks to go down, but my left shoulder because of the recent repair, does not like that activity. The sun was right overhead and the heat coming off the white granite was unforgiving. The only thing to alleviate the pain was talking to people making there way up. They looked to be in far worse shape than I. Near the top you could kind of cheer them on by telling them they were almost done. People near the bottom, you just had to lie to about they were going to make it. The best couple were some gals from Texas. They were quite dismayed to learn when I told them you could start from the top and work your way down. They also confessed they had hoped to climb Half Dome but were unsuccessful in getting a permit. They were starting late in the day if that was their original plan.

I landed on my ass once on the way down, with a couple of near misses. I hate that feeling of starting to slip. My whole body was clenched for the entire descent.

The entire hike was supposed to be 8 1/2 miles. When I reached the bottom of Nevada Falls, I was at 7 miles. I was in the home stretch. Nothing could hurt me now. Again, foreshadowing.

In the area between the bottom of Nevada Falls and the top of Vernal Falls there used to be a small hotel run by the Snow family. This was back at the end of the 19th century, before deciding pristine was the way to go. They say if you knew where to look, you can still find old bottles from that time if you know where to look.

As the day progressed, I started to see more and more people. I was the slow going old man so I let lots of people pass me. I would also let people ascend by me on the trails because they have the right of way, something many people did not know. Or didn’t care. As I walked from Nevada Falls to Vernal, I felt some group come up behind me on the trail. I stepped to the side to let them pass. They went down the easier section of this mostly flat path while I was on this little rock. Not too high. I figured rather than go to the easier section, I would just leap off the rock and save myself a few steps.

Yeah, no. When I hit the ground, my knees informed me that the resulting force was too much for them to bear. They collapsed and went immediately to the ground. I could see it all happen in slow motion. There was collapse happening and there was nothing I could do about it. I got up quickly and hoped no one saw me being an idiot. One knee was already sticky with blood. The other was just achy. My jumping days are over.

Along the way, the father and son duo from the top of the trail, passed me again. They’d been leapfrogging me this entire hike. It was always quite cordial and a nice break to talk to someone.

I crossed over the bridge and reached a decision point. I knew full well at this timeI couldn’t go down the Mist Trail. But I was at intersection where I could head directly to Clark Point and the John Muir Trail or I could descend for two tenths of a mile to the top of Vernal Falls. I have noticed on multiple occasions including last year at the top of Yosemite Fall, that worst spot to take a picture of a waterfall is from the top of a waterfall. As a photographer, it’s going to be a wasted trip with no rewards. On the other hand, I wanted to stand at the railing right where the water went over the cliff and down into the valley. I was also starting to feel the effects of the hike, feeling a bit weak in the knees.

Naturally, because I have questionable decision making powers, I opted to descend. I’m going to say it was worth it. It wasn’t as crowded as I thought it was going to be. I only had to push one influencer out of the way to stand at the point closest to the water and the cliff edge. I probably could have stayed there a lot longer, but I gave way to another guy also wanting to be in the prime spot. I took notice of him because he carried one of the really long Sugar Pine pinecones. I would see him for the rest of the hike.

I hiked back to where the trail divided. I sensed things were not going to go well. Most of that short hike were in the sun. It was starting to get hot. And the trails were getting crowded. At the trail intersection, it was four tenths of a mile to Clark Point. I knew it was all downhill from Clark Point, because DM and I had hiked that section of the John Muir Trail on one of our backpacking trips. It was the trip from where I stood to Clark Point that was the mystery.

It immediately became apparent it was going to be a nightmare. It was all slick granite ramps and steps. The hike was a bit easier since it was uphill. I could find purchase easier. But it was uphill. And there wasn’t much shade. I was sucking on my waterline from my camel back as if my life depended on it. I kept hoping this would be the final stretch that would take me to Clark Point. For the longest time, It was one false climb after another. And there were a ton of people. Groups of twenty or thirty. No one showed any courtesy. It was all full steam ahead and you need to get out of my way. I stopped a lot on the way up.

But finally, I was at Clark Point. It was downhill from there. My legs were shot. I moved one slow step at a time. But I kept going without stopping. The hard part was this part of the trail still was kind of paved. It’s not quite as soft as walking on a dirt trail. My foot neuropathy was at 11. Still more people coming up the trail. I couldn’t believe they had started so late in the day. I saw a few backpackers and felt sorry for them and what lay ahead.

The entire trip down I kept seeing the Sugarpine Pine Cone guy. He was a with a girl that looked she had enough of him. She was the one with the daypack and kept trying to convince her to put something in her pack like a water bottle or the pinecone. He seemed like a walking red flag.

Eventually, the John Muir Trail met the Mist Trail. I could see where they had closed the trail. One ranger had to stand there and explain to a lot of people they couldn’t go any further up the trail.

At the Vernal Bridge, I stopped to take some picture for a group. My legs were so unsteady I could barely stop moving. Eventually, I took the shot.

There was a little bit of uphill leaving the bridge before I started the downhill to Happy Isles and the tram stop.

I didn’t have to wait long for the tram, but it was packed. The initial feeling of relief from the cold air from the A.C. blowing on me gave way to thick air and the feeling I might pass out. It probably had nothing to do with the fact my 8 mile hike had ballooned to 11.5 miles.

I found the Queen at the Day Use Parking lot. She had spent her morning walking around the valley and hanging out in the shade on a bench near the Visitor Center. We got in the car and left.

It was a good day in many respects and a really challenging day in others. Yes, I’m already thinking of a next Yosemite adventure. But not too soon.

After a month, BofA has returned the money they took out of my account to pay for some weird ass check somebody passed in Arizona. There were all sorts of red flags on the check but they passed it anyway. This came a few days after somebody electronically also took money out of the account. The electronic theft was returned immediately but it took this long for the check to be cleared.

I am glad that is over. Time to go buy more pallets.

We all know his name. We all know his scores. And he was the Uncle of Peter.

A great legacy

Full of the blood shedding and action.

Everyone knows at this point that Affleck plays an autistic accountant who also has serious hitman skills. He also has a code. You don't don't get to hurt people under his protection. He's called in to audit the books at a robotic factory because some intern has found a weird discrepancy and the boss man needs to verify there is a problem. Of course, he finds the problem. Trouble ensues.

Meanwhile J. Jonah Jameson over at the treasury department is trying to track down this elusive accountant and tasks one of his up and comers to find him. One of the things that screws up the movie, but not in a big way, is that if you have seen even the trailer for Accountant 2, you know one of the big secrets of the movie. But the film still worked.

The biggest problem the film has is that about two thirds of the way through the film the film grinds to a halt as we go into flashback mode to tell the backstory of J. Jonah and the accountant. It seemed like lazy storytelling.

There was some fun action sequences. There were plenty of louds. Affleck seems to be acting for a change. I'm curious how the film was received by the Autism community because there are some red flags about how to deal with Autism in the movie.

Yep. I saw it. I don't know about you, but I was a little depressed by world events and wanted to not think about things for a bit. Do I like Jack Black? Nope. Jason Mamoa has one note and I don't care for it. Have I ever played Minecraft? Not even a little. And yet here was a film that made almost a billion dollars at the box office. Some of the screenings were supposed to be near riots. Kind of wanted to see what it had going for it.

Jack Black plays Steve who stumbles into the Minecraft. (It also explained a meme. I didn't realize the line "Children long for the mines" was from this film) He lives there and achieves great things until he is trapped by an evil witch. Years later more people stumble into the world of Minecraft and have to go on a quest to save the world and find there way back out of the world of Minecraft. Logic is loose and fast with the story. If I knew more about the game I'm sure I would have been excited to some locations if I played the game. Mamoa plays a buffoon version of himself. Black spends quite a few scenes explaining how things work and are built. He also gets to sing a couple of songs.

In the end, I was diverted. It wasn't great. But wasn't horrible. There were some funny bits. Jennifer Coolidge was wasted.

This is an early Stephen Chow, a pre-mou le tau flick. It's crass. There are many butt jokes. Like a lot. So many butt jokes.

It starts with the King of Beggars attacking Chow's residence by tossing buckets of piss and shit in the front door, but Chow has a sheet of glass so it bounces back on them, then they think it's raining but it's Chow hosing them down with more piss that's drugged with a laxative, and when they later have to poop in a field, someone is tossing hell notes, which they use as toilet paper, but it's yet another ruse, because it's covered with a nasty itching powder. The beggar clan must relent, and Chow gives their king a silver ingot to stick up his bum. After he does that, Chow says it's not the cure, he just wanted to see him stick something up his bum. That's just the first bit. 

It gets worse when Chow's lackey gets sent to jail and has to keep stuff in his prison purse - dominos and a chicken drumstick for later. Another shotcaller gets humbled when he must store an entire mahjong set plus table. Turns out the lackey is a lost son of a magnate, identifible by a triangular birthmark on, you guessed it, his ass. 

There's a lot of puerile stuff here obvs. There's a ruse to trap a hottie (the ever gorgeous Chingmay Yau) into a kiss after Chow accidentally gropes her butt. Karen Mok plays Chow's wife and his straight woman. 

'97 was the turnover and the film culminates in a trial which implies the corruption of the UK legal system. So there's some political commentary that was surely relevant back then, but is dated now. 

Not D00M recommended despite the butt fetish of one of the D00MBros here (you know who you are). 

Seen here on YouTube: 

I knew this film as Mr. Canton and Lady Rose. But I didn't actually. There's some other Jackie Chan flick that I have always thought was this film, and it's not very good. I distinctly remember the only fight scene in the film, which involved some acrobatics in drapes. It wasn't enough for me. Now I have no idea which old Jackie flick that was. 

As it turns out, I don't think I've ever seen this film, which is wild to me because I know that it was one of Jackie's personal favorites. He wrote and directed it, one of the first times he did that. And it's freaking great. 

It's his ode to Frank Capra, loosely adapting Lady for a Day and Pocket Full of Miracles into this tale. It co-stars Anita Mui (who was improperly dubbed as the Asian Madonna), Wu Ma, Lo Lieh (as the villain of course), Ken Lo (as an opponent for Jackie of course), Richard Ng (as a buffoon Chief Inspector), Mars (as a henchman of course), Yuen Biao (in a wasted cameo), and Amy Yip (another cameo, not as wasted because she gets to bounce her voluptuousness). It was remade by Akki in Singh is Kinng ( http://www.brotherhoodofdoom.com/doomFor...p?tid=2103 ). 

It's stylish, mimicking some of the expansive crane shots of old Hollywood. There's goofy subplots, a ruse that must be maintained, gangsters pretending to be rich gentlepeople, again an homage to those old films. It's light, funny, and heartwarming, not at all to be taken seriously. 

The fights are amazing - Jackie in his prime. I slowed down the playback to unravel the complexity of Jackie's choreo. Fantastic stuff - acrobatic, witty, precise, and imaginative- the stuff that only Jackie can deliver. So good. Simply untouchable. 

D00M recommended.

I knew going in, this was not for me. But I felt the need to see.

And I was correct. I didn't care for the music. The story was pretty sappy. And the animation wasn't all that great.

But I didn't hate it. I think the filmmakers did very well what they were trying to do. There were some parts I found amusing. I really liked the big Demon Cat and the Six Eyed bird in his little hat. There were some good complications in there and the message wasn't horrible. There was even some sword work.

But not for me.

John Krazinski and Padme Amadalla race around the world, following clues in stolen paintings, to find the Fountain of Youth. They are chased by Interpol and the Guardians of the Fountain.

The probably could have called this Indiana John and the Temple of Dumb. I mean John's father in the film was named Harrison. I won't say it was too dumb, but it wasn't very engaging. John and sister Padme spend most of the movie bickering. Neither one is likable. You don't feel any sympathy for the characters because they are being dicks about everything they do. I also expected more from director Guy Ritchie. It feels like he's just going through the motions. The budget must be big because of sets and some of the locations, but Ritchie's usual flair for directing seems to be missing.

Bleh.

Ice Nine Kills sux. Whenever you need a hotty & a chainsaw as props.