Yosemite, Kings Canyon, and Sequoia National ParksI get to cross a place and a thing off my wish list. We didn't mean to visit to three national parks at one go, but they were there, so we went. I made my parents take me to Yosemite National Park during spring break, and on the way home we went through Kings Canyon and Sequoia, too.
The word "Yosemite" was originally used to describe the people who lived in the area. It means "those who kill," or, in a more poetic description given in the park, "some of them are killers." It's an odd name for a valley, but apparently the man who named the park thought it meant "grizzly bear."
Yosemite National Park's best known feature is Half Dome (left), a semi-circular monolith. It takes around eight hours to climb Half Dome, although they take down the cables in the winter. When you approach Yosemite Valley, you have to drive through a tunnel and then all of a sudden you come into the valley, with El Capitan on the left, Half Dome in the middle in the distance, and Bridalveil Fall on the right. It's pretty damn impressive; but at the same time, you almost don't believe it's real, because it looks just like a picture (say, an Ansel Adams photograph).When we got to the valley floor, the first thing we did was look at Bridalveil Fall. This was in part because there are bathrooms in the parking lot there. Travel tip: Do not pass up the opportunity to use a restroom, even if it is a glorified and hopefully bear-proof port-a-potty. We walked up the path to the bottom of the fall and managed not to get too wet. Bridalveil is a long, skinny waterfall, and it moves with the wind, which is pretty cool. And of course, when the sun shines on it right, there are rainbows in the water.
The other waterfall we saw was Yosemite Falls (above). There are the upper falls, a middle cascade part, and then the lower falls. We walked a path to the bottom of the lower falls, where the water lands on boulders that have fallen from the top. Yosemite Falls is the highest waterfall on the continent; it takes somewhere from five to eight hours to hike from the valley floor to the top of the upper falls. Needless to say, we did not accomplish that feat.
One of the things that I wanted to see at Yosemite was a bear. I would've been really scared, of course, but I want to see one in real life sometime. Although we saw no bears, we did see squirrels, deer, and assorted other woodland creatures. Some of the animals were not scared of us at all: we saw a bold Steller's jay that almost hopped right up to us, and a squirrel waited under our table for us to leave parts of our lunch behind. And in case you ever thought of leaving food in your car, DON'T! Bears will come and rip your car apart to get to it. We saw a dramatic sign reenacting this fact, where the bear looked really happy to be peeling the car door off.I didn't get a picture of a really astounding sight on the way from the park to our hotel. We were driving along the Merced River and came to a place where there was a detour on the highway. A short time later we saw that this was because there had been a huge rockslide on one side of the river. We're quite used to seeing signs that say "Watch for falling rocks," but I for one had never seen fallen rocks of this magnitude. The slide covered at least a hundred yards of road, if not more, and the rocks were piled high. It was a little scary. Even when we were in Yosemite Valley, it was a little concerning to think about how all those boulders got from the high places to the floor. I did not cherish the idea of any geological movement occurring whilst we were in the valley.
Unfortunately, because we were there in what was still technically winter, some things were closed because of snow. Some of the roads out to the backcountry were closed, so Tulomne Meadow was off-limits. Another of the things that was closed was the road to the Mariposa Grove, where there are lots of redwoods. We didn't feel like walking the two miles from the parking lot to the grove, so we didn't. Luckily for us, though, only a few hours away were two national parks with lots of coast redwoods and giant sequoias.
In parts of Kings Canyon and Sequoia, the snow hadn't been cleared on paths. So at one point we were walking on packed snow that was above the level of the fences that marked the path. Out of context, big trees just look like trees; it's hard to tell in pictures how wide and tall they really are. They are almost unbelievably big. There are a few fallen trees that are hollow, so visitors can walk through them; even I, who am quite tall enough, can walk through them upright. The General Sherman tree (still alive and kicking) is the biggest tree in the world. These trees have survived drought, disease, and deforestation for thousands of years. There's a slice of tree at Yosemite that's marked with different events in world history, starting around 926 AD and ending in 1890. It's amazing to think about.
I've been through the Pyrenees and the Alps, but Sequoia is the site of the twistiest road I've ever been on: Generals Highway. There are 10 mile-per-hour switchbacks. It's possible that had I been driving, they would have only been 5 mile-per-hour switchbacks. It was a little bit ridiculous. I managed not to get carsick, likely because we were going so slowly.I don't feel this post is particularly good at describing these parks, but honestly, it was a few months ago and I haven't made myself write this up until now, which means that A) I am slothful and B) I don't remember things as well as I should. It's hard to describe things so big. I got to see snow, which I hadn't seen in about two years, and the trip almost would have been worth it for that alone. But I got to see some truly awesome sights, some true natural wonders. I don't understand how anyone could go into any of these parks, but especially Yosemite, and believe that they are there by accident. Sure, plate tectonics and natural forces notwithstanding; but I have to look at El Capitan and Half Dome and the General Sherman tree and think, "Of course there's a God."
That's the Star Spangled Banner and the Saltire, or St. Andrew's Cross, the national flag of Scotland. The cross is white, though the shadows make it look black.
When I was walking through the clan booths, I kept wanting someone to stop me and ask what my last name was to try to figure out what clan I belong to. I wanted to proudly tell them my very un-Scottish last name, and laugh. I guess I want people to know that I am just as proud of my paternal heritage as I am of my maternal. There just aren't as many festivals for my dad's side, though. But no one accosted me to ask who my people were.
The caber they were using was over 17 feet long. Here are four mere mortals carrying what one kilted man can carry. I was watching the caber/brass band/dancing and a girl near me was telling one of her associates about the origins of the heavy athletics, i.e. that they were war training exercises. Um, duh. Everybody knows that. When the grid goes down and EMPs have rendered all those fancy weapons useless, the throwers of the world will be the artilleries. At least until the trebuchets get built.
In Celtic Grove #1 I listened to a singer from Edinburgh who now lives in Texas named Ed Miller. He played guitar and sang folk songs and drinking songs. With him were another guitar player, a fiddler, and a flautist/backup vocalist. I liked that before every song Mr. Miller told the audience the words to the chorus and encouraged us to sing along. Either Avery County is dry or the GMHG powers that be decided not to have any alcohol for sale; whatever the case, Mr. Miller questioned how it was possible to have a Scottish festival without alcohol. So a nice young man from the audience walked to the stage and gave him a beer. A bit later the group played a song whose chorus began, "Give the fiddler a dram, boys," and another audience member walked up and set a dram in front of the fiddler, who drank it as soon as the chorus was over. I liked listening to this group because it was in a nice, shady place where I could sit down, and because it was a change from the mayhem on the main field. Plus, Mr. Miller sang Scottish songs that weren't the usual traditional stuff. It was pleasant.
After Albannach I left, because it was a long drive. Overall I had a good time, of course, but I wish I'd had people with me to talk to. I called the Best Roommate Ever twice so she could listen to bagpipes, and Mom once, but it wasn't the same. I don't know why my cell phone reception was so bad, as I was on a mountain. That was also one of the highlights, going to the mountains. I miss mountains. That is, I miss seeing them behind my house, or being in them, but I do not miss getting into them. And the weather could not have been nicer; I estimate that it was about 20 degrees cooler there than at the house. I function better when it's cooler than I do when it's hot and humid and disgusting, and I believe that's why I was hardly tired by the time I got back. So it was nice and cool and there were mountains and sausage rolls and bagpipes, so I can hardly complain. Well done, me.
