Yosemite Mar 1-4 2011

[Drunk Monk]

We got up to Tuolumne on Sunday, staying in the backpacker's camp, then hit the trail to Vogelsang on Monday. Vogelsang is at 10K, which made for a 2K climb in about 5 miles in full pack. It totally kicked my ass. I'm so freakin out of shape. T was in amazing shape, which is what 15-20 hours a week of gymnastics will do - she was bounding up the trail like a billy goat in full pack. S was slow and steady like always, savoring every step, not at all like the whining dm (for the record, dm's shaolin heel bruise still hasn't healed - hard to heal heels - so he was favoring his right and more on this to come). We camped in a meadow that was hecka buggy - at one point I looked down on my pant leg and saw a dozen mosquitos trying to poke through my Carharts. The field was filled with pika, which is an adorable high altitude mini prairie dog that charmed T to the heart. They were pretty cute - endangered now like everything else, of course. The next two days of trail we made it down to Merced Lake. It was spectacular at every turn. Most people just see Yosemite's valley, but the backpacking country is so gorgeous, JAH's country. This year's weather left plenty of wildflowers in bloom, so we would move from stunning fields of wildflowers and butterflies, to sheer granite landscapes, always following the mighty Merced River, with its raging rapids and emerald pools. The water at Vogelsang is so pure, like what all the bottled water companies want to sell to you, and as we moved down the river towards the valley, we could all taste the change. The weather was perfect, clear blue skies with the occasional intricate cloud. I practiced my qigong on cliffs and beside lakes, hoping to suck up a little of nature's purest qi like a mosquito sucks blood. T and I are mosquito magnets and got bit up relentlessly on that first day. S is somehow immune. T inherited the wrong genes on that one. As I was whining about how sore I was getting, these elderly backpackers would pass by, coming up the trail! We took the descending route. It was steep. Some of those other backpackers had 10-20 years on me. They were beaming, just glowing, and all I could think was 'damn, I'm wimpy now' and 'I want to be like them in a decade'. There's an instant bonding between backpackers - you really look at each other - check in on the trail, exchange a few comments about the conditions, and share the moment as there's not much to be said about the grandeur of the surroundings. Don't know why my pack seemed so heavy - just a change of clothes, some gear and a bear canister of food - but it cut into my shoulders hard. Still, despite the hardship, it was so stunning - there's just nothing like Yosemite - a true temple of California, of the world, and I found myself spiritually awestruck and humbled. The trail makers built granite paths miles deep in the high country, and I'm so grateful for their sacrifice. How the heck do you move that much granite up there? About halfway in, my boot gave out, and that totally sucked. I've had these boots for maybe 20 years - they were once top-of-the-line zamberlans, all leather, which makes them look antique (never mind that S uses an ancient kelty external frame pack). My sole tore out and I almost face-planted on a granite cliff - with the pack that would have been really bad. I effected some quick repairs using athletic tape from my medikit, which barely held. That night, I redid it with moleskin, and that held for the rest of the journey. It was, of course, the right boot, so now I couldn't land hard on my heel and I had to be very careful with my toe. Coming down the mountain, my left shin and calf took it pretty hard as it had to be the lead foot all the way. We camped near Little Yosemite, behind Half Dome on our last night. We didn't have out rain tarp up, so we could see the stars - so many damn jets. Hilarious night bird sounds - at least I think they were birds. At one point, after a particularly weird call, T said from her sleep "A camel is crying. Oh well". As we came down Nevada and Vernal falls, my esteem was restored looking at all the wimpy day hikers whining about the short hike up to the falls. It was quite a culture shock going from backpackers to the day valley tourists. The tourists were self absorbed and inattentive. The valley was nuts - freakin Disneyland now, exacerbated by the California Experience mocking the architecture of the Yosemite lodge. I dropped like $90 in a few hours, just getting food and such (had to splurge on crappy pizza, root beer floats, etc after eating out of the bear can for so long) and of course, bus tickets back to Tuolumne. A fire broke out, closing one of the highways, so we left last night - we had planned to stay another day, but we decided to beat the traffic. Now I'm told that some one died on half dome during our trip. All told, it was 28 miles in 4 days. Now, back in the doldrums of suburbia, I'm trying my best to cling to those feelings, those sensations of Yosemite's back country. This morning, T said 'toilets are weird'. Fremont looks really weird. I'm glad to be home, to be showered and to rest, but like S said today 'I want some water from Vogelsang'