A full week of vacation during a pandemic. What does one do with a week when nothing is really open and there’s nowhere to really go? Flying off to visit family or to go home to Minnesota seemed impossible. While I could have done it physically (planes are still flying and people are traveling), I didn’t think it wise. Imposing on those who are trying to keep distant, and potentially exposing them to COVID-19, or going somewhere that you couldn’t actually do anything wasn’t attractive. When I moved to northern California, I had noted that Yosemite National Park wasn’t that far away from where I’d be living. It was in my usual ‘day trip driving range,’ and I thought that someday I’d visit to see Half Dome and the other attractions.
As the protests, rioting and looting of early June calmed down, I thought more about going to Yosemite. I checked out the NPS website. The park was still officially closed but had submitted their plan for reopening in mid to late June and were awaiting approvals from California. I perused the accommodations and thought idly about my previous trip to the Great Smokies where I had stayed at a lovely inn. Perhaps that would be nice – go to Yosemite and stay somewhere with some character and more home-like amenities. Rough camping is still appealing, but after getting rid of all the camping gear when I moved to the UK, the thought of restocking seemed out of the question, both from a cost and practicality standpoint given the current semi-open state of most shops. I highly doubted that any outfitters were open and using gear that someone else already used no longer felt safe. I settled on a beautiful looking inn near Groveland, CA, sending an inquiry to check whether they were actually open. Given the warnings on the ‘travel Yosemite’ site, I wasn’t even sure that was an option, many accommodations were closed as a part of the overall park closure and COVID response. The innkeeper quickly responded and said that, yes, they were open, but that the park may not be open during the last week of June. He offered that he’d be charging no deposits and any cancellation fees would be waived should the park not open as planned. He then asked if I’d like to go ahead and book. I debated, after all, what would I do if the park wasn’t really open? Sitting around at an inn for several days seemed a bit extravagant. However, I decided to test my luck and confirmed that I wanted to book a room.
A few days later, he called me. It sounded as though the park would be reopened by the State as requested, but they’d have limited access. To go, I’d need to watch the NPS website and try to score a day pass in their online lottery. He also asked if I’d come anyway, even if I couldn’t go to the park. I debated with him – are their restaurants open for takeaway? Could I actually eat if I came? He confirmed that there were food options available. He also said that he had 40 acres where I could wander and that there were lots of outdoor options for walking or cycling outside of the park. However, given the new requirements for the inn, he needed to know if I was going to do it, whether or not the park reopened so that he could allocate a room under their new reduced operations. If I wasn’t certain, he wanted to offer the room to someone who was surer about going regardless the status of the park. I thought about it for a millisecond, and agreed – yes, I’d go anyway. Why not? What was there to do at home for a week? Reading with new scenery would be better than spending my days reading in my apartment.
Two weeks later, the NPS email update included good news. The park would reopen, but limited day passes would be available to control the numbers. Everyone had to pre-register and order a day pass online. The day the passes became available, I quickly picked up mine. I had no trouble and thought that maybe the fact I was going the last weekend in June made it easier – I imagined that most people would be looking at the actual weekend of the 4th of July. I didn’t care that I had to book a full week pass and only use it for 4 days, the cost was minimal, and it meant that I could hike – maybe, if there wasn’t a spike and the reopening was revoked. Given the state of the COVID-19 test results in California, this was still a very real possibility. I looked at the additional pass for Half Dome but noticed that the site said it was a 10 to 14-hour hike. That seemed a lot to do on my own. I quickly checked with various hiking groups and realized that no one was leading any hikes yet. Reluctantly, I decided to take a pass. I’m usually up for a challenge, but that length of time on my own, plus the whole cables up to the top at the end worried me. I decided to be an adult and promised myself, “next time.”
The day of my trip approached, and I struggled to pack. I knew how to pack for a hiking trip, and I knew how to pack for a lazy few days of sitting around not doing much. I had just bought a new hybrid mountain / road bike and considered bringing it. Since Yosemite was quite a distance, and the EV apps didn’t show any options for charging, I had decided to rent a car to make the drive. I didn’t want to be dependent on finding places to fill up Ava’s small gas tank. With that in mind, I decided to forgo the bike. I didn’t get a rack for Ava since she’d probably throw a fit, and I could just barely fit the bike in her boot with the rear seats down. There was no way to know, in advance if I could get the bike in the rental car along with all my other luggage. Since cycling included a whole different wardrobe, I didn’t want to pack for that contingency. I decided that if the park reclosed, I’d just have a whole lot of gear and clothing that wouldn’t get used. Reviewing my packing list from my Appalachian Trail hike last year, I pulled together all the necessary equipment for some serious hiking in the mountains.
Saturday morning, I walked over to the local Hertz office and picked up my little rental car for the trip. They were having trouble logging into their systems, having been closed most of the last few months, and the young woman that helped me was so happy that I didn’t seem to care or to be in any rush. I told her not to worry about it, my check in was at 3pm near Yosemite, and I didn’t really have any plans for the day. She was so nice and praised the idea that I was getting out in the sun and enjoying the park. Once we finally got to the car, I was a bit annoyed since they gave me one with only half a tank of gas (after being so easy-going with the amount of time it took, I chose not to react to the fact that I’d now have to stop for gas on my way). After that, it was the drive up to the park. Traffic was a bit heavier than I expected, but not terrible. The hills surrounding the highway were a tan color where the grass was dead. I shook my head, no wonder it’s fire season, there wasn’t much green to be seen anywhere. As I got closer to the area, the vast fields of fruit and nut trees covered the landscape, and it was tempting to stop to buy local produce. Being unsure whether I’d have a refrigerator in the room, I decided not to stop.
Once I got to Groveland, I checked the location of the inn and then drove on to the park. I had timed my day pass to start on Saturday, just in case I decided to hike once I got there, so it would be no issue. As I drove the 15 or so miles to the park entrance, I came upon a huge queue of cars. Waiting for what seemed like an hour, I remembered that my printed day pass was in my suitcase in the trunk. I fiddled with my phone – no service, and no way to retrieve it electronically. Sighing, I pulled off into a parking lot just before the entrance gates to dig it out. Thankfully, one of the other drivers begrudgingly let me back into the queue once I got it. As I approached the entrance, I could see the various park staff wearing smart looking, matching black masks. I grabbed mine, putting it on as I waited my turn. It seemed to be taking a long time to get through and I wondered whether people hadn’t printed their passes off or something. Sure enough, as I was next to go through, the driver of the car ahead of me was talking loudly and gesturing – what do you mean I can’t just pay the entry fee and go in? I have to wait until TUESDAY to try to get a pass online? I rolled my eyes, surely in this COVID world people would check in advance to see what’s open and what the requirements are for going places. I reminded myself that common sense isn’t that common and tried to be patient as the park ranger calmly explained how things were working. Needless to say, it took about 2 minutes for the ranger to check my reservation and hand me a bright pink parking pass with my exit date on it.
Once I received my clearance and parking pass, I drove through the park marveling at the amazing geography. It was breathtaking! I stopped at one of the small look-out points and got my first glimpse of Half Dome. I praised my good fortune of living so close and continued on to Yosemite Village. I was hungry, and needs must, so that had to be my first stop. There were a surprising number of people for it being at 50% capacity. The small food shop was packed, and the queue to check out wrapped around the store. Everyone was wearing their masks (as required), but the whole 6 feet of space seemed relative, depending on who was near you. I tried to manage it as the man ahead of me with two teenaged daughters seemed to think the 6 feet markings between us were his personal space to roam as he wished. Rather than cause a conflict, I just quietly backed away each time he encroached on my 6 feet of space. Fortunately, the man in line behind me was of the same mind and seemed to match my steps as he maintained his distance. After getting some provisions, I walked around the rest of the village. It was close to 14:30 by the time I grabbed lunch at the deli. Fortunately, going that late meant it was relatively empty and I enjoyed my lunch on the small deck outside.
When I returned to the inn to check in, the innkeeper was so kind, trying to keep his distance while showing me around my room. We talked about hiking and my desire to do something where there wouldn’t be a lot of people around. He discreetly asked me how fit I was since he’d had marathoners that had crashed and burned on some of the more challenging trails. Rather than get annoyed, I mentioned that last year I hiked the Georgia end of the Appalachians and in the autumn, I had done a strenuous hike in the Great Smokies. He seemed satisfied and suggested going to Glacier Point to see the view, and then driving about 2 miles back down the road to a trail head to do the actual hike, taking in some beautiful vistas. Since it was well after 16:00 by the time I’d checked in and settled in my room, I decided not to go back to the park. I took a walk around the grounds, and then walked the ½ mile down the road to a truck-stop restaurant for dinner. I was pleasantly surprised at the quality of the food and enjoyed my first Half Dome beer – a local IPA. When I returned, I took a nice bath in the spacious bathroom and after trying to sit outside to read a bit, realized the mosquitoes were too persistent and went to bed.
The next morning, the innkeeper and I poured over the maps (while maintaining our distance and wearing our masks). He showed me where the hike was and told me about what I’d see along the trail, confirming that I had sufficient water with me. As I drove, I thought about the hike. If I drove to Glacier Point and actually got a parking space, why would I move my car again to risk potentially not getting a space at the trail head? Adding an extra mile or two to a walk or a run isn’t that difficult. However, hiking is another story – an additional mile or two with steep elevation or a rocky trail could mean a few additional hours on the hike, running out of water or me being physically exhausted. Worst case, I’d be stumbling along praying for a ride. Seeing the number of cars already at the trailhead as I passed it, I decided that I’d go ahead and take my chances, and hike from the top. I had nearly 4L of water with me, surely that would be enough.
The hike began with a sharp upward climb. It was definitely a challenging route, and I tried hard to keep hydrating while considering how best to preserve my water for the entire circuit. Not knowing what the rest of the trail was like, it made me a little nervous to be working so hard so early. I was happy to have my poles with me and felt good about the rigorous ascent, though the altitude made me breathe heavily as I climbed. After a time, the trail levelled out and I took in more of the beautiful surroundings, pausing now and again to snap pictures and marveling at the natural beauty. Each time other hikers approached me to pass, we’d quickly don our masks. I had a neck gaiter I’d picked up for the Appalachians that was perfect. It could collect any sweat and was easily pulled up with one hand to cover my nose and mouth when needed, then rolled down once we’d passed each other.
At one point, I lost the trail and wandered aimlessly trying to keep my general direction going towards the first checkpoint ‘the fissure’ at Taft Point. I finally found it again and kept going. As I climbed, I caught glimpses of the spectacular falls across the valley. I paused frequently, checking my map and grateful for the satellite Google maps since I had no signal to get a real view of where I was on the route. As promised, there weren’t a lot of other hikers, though I did see some that I wondered how they had gotten onto the trail. One group included two women actually wearing sundresses and sporting trainers. I shook my head, I was happy to have my sturdy hiking boots and poles, how in the world were they making it across the rustic trail?
The fissures were well worth the hike. The views were breathtaking and the geographic force of nature that had caused the rock to split into a dramatic cut was something you certainly don’t see every day. I paused my hiking workout on my iWatch and decided to eat my lunch there. As I made my way back down the trail, I realized that I had already passed Sentinel Dome, another lookout from the trail. The map had made it seem there was a wide loop, but the reality was that there was a shorter, flatter trail from the parking lot and trailhead that the innkeeper had suggested. My route from Glacier Point was the longer arc and I had inadvertently passed the key milestones on my way to Taft Point. I laughed and reminded myself to take time to enjoy the vistas – none of the ‘let’s see how fast I can do this’ from my trip to the Great Smokies.
The hike back to Glacier Point was easier since I’d already done it once, and I made good time working my way back to the car. I took the time at the end to wander through the various viewing spots at Glacier Point and continued to marvel at the works of art in nature. Driving back to the inn, I came around a curve to a car stopped on the road. I threw on my hazards and stopped so that others coming behind me wouldn’t plow into me. After waiting a few minutes, I got out of the car and went up to the one ahead of me to ask what was going on. The driver said a tree had fallen across the road further along and that we were waiting for a crew to come and clear it. I walked around a bit and then decided to just relax in the car. After about 20 minutes, two young women came up the road towards me, when they came alongside my car, they said, “You’re 81.” Whoa, 80 cars ahead of me waiting for the tree to be moved. Once we finally started moving, I could see why we were stopped. The tree that fell was huge. There was a crew of about 6 or 8 workers using chain saws to move it out of the way.
Given that I returned to the inn an hour later than I expected, I decided to have dinner at a resort hotel near the park entry. This seemed to be the higher-end option near the inn, and I thought it would be nice to have a wider selection of options for a post-hike dinner, not to mention the potential for a full bar. After a long, hot shower, I headed up to the resort hotel. It was very nice, and clearly had a lot of amenities when it was fully open and able to operate as normal. Without a reservation, I was only able to sit at the high-top tables in the bar. They had divided the table into 3 sections with plexi-glass so that you could maintain distance from the other people, so I wasn’t too concerned. However, noticing the ceiling fans keeping the air circulating and cool did make me reconsider my choice. I don’t think the idea that ceiling fans not only circulate air but could also circulate virus droplets had occurred to them. I ate relatively quickly and left.
The next morning, my body reminded me that I had quite the workout the day before. It felt good and I decided to go for another challenging hike since that was why I was in Yosemite. I asked the innkeeper for another recommendation. He suggested the Cathedral Lakes and I mapped out my plan for the day. This route was definitely an out-and-back, so I felt good about heading out. Before getting underway, I watched a group in an NPS truck pull up and spray down the row of porta-potties at the trail entrance. Apparently, they’re trying hard to keep things sanitary.
The start of the hike was less technical than the day before, rocks had been positioned so that it was like going up rough stairs as the trail wound around the first mile or so. After a while, I could see that the trail hadn’t been well maintained during the park closure. Once the COVID-19 shut-down happened, the NPS had closed the park and laid off most of the crews that work to maintain it. I had a general sense of the direction of the lake, so I kept going and watching for the rough markings of the actual trail. Eventually, I found it and made my way up to the beautiful lakes. I sat to eat my lunch and marveled at the beauty.
After lunch, I walked along the main Cathedral Lake shore and decided to head back. The trail cut across wetlands, and there were several different crossings that allowed access back to the main one. I had marked some major landmarks in my mind and headed out. About ½ mile from the lake, the trail split, forking left and right. I didn’t remember this fork or having made a turn when I first came up, so I decided to take the fork that seemed to be more firmly a trail. I walked for some time and felt like I wasn’t heading towards the car, I seemed to be heading back towards the lake. Sure enough, I came around a bend, and the mountain bordering the lake came into view. I was annoyed, so decided to go back to where I had my lunch and retrace my steps to return to the car. Once again, I found myself back on the circular track and got really frustrated when the lake appeared yet again. I knew there was another trail that would eventually get me back to where I parked, so I decided to try to find that one instead. After wandering around for a while, I realized that I wasn’t finding it and was actually crashing through the woods instead. I took a deep breath and headed back to the lake. At least I had a landmark that I couldn’t mistake.
The next time I restarted, I consciously decided to take the smaller trail when it forked. Checking Google maps (no signal, but you can still get the satellite), I seemed to be generally headed in the right direction. The maps showed the trails, but there was also a handy little note saying, “You parked here.” I went on for a while, and then lost the trail again. I thought I knew where I was going, so I decided to just go ahead and keep heading generally in the direction of the car, watching for the trail. I was crashing around for a while, checking Google and trying desperately to get back to the trail when I heard voices. I stopped and listened for the direction that they were coming, then started heading towards them. I figured that they had to be on the trail. As I finally emerged from the brush, they laughed and said they thought I was a bear. I laughed too and said, “Nope.” I couldn’t help but think how stupid I’d feel if I had to get rescued off the trail. I had plenty of daylight and still a good amount of water, but given the size of the park, getting lost wasn’t on my list of experiences I wanted to try.
As the main trail solidified and I continued, a group of young men approached from further down towards the trailhead carrying large tools to clear the brush. Yep, there was definitely a need to clear the trail! I finally came to the rough stairs and was happy to be done.
Once I’d cleaned up and changed for the drive to the inn, I made my way back. I was going to make a couple other stops the innkeeper recommended, but somehow my gas tank which had been at ½ tank for a while was bordering on empty. I guess driving up and down mountains made the indicator less accurate, and I figured I’d better make my way to the little gas station near the park entry. I’d successfully made it out after getting lost, I didn’t want to add having to get rescued from running out of gas to my list of Yosemite experiences.
My final day was far less exciting. I checked out of the inn and headed back to the park to do a short, recreational hike to Mirror Lake. This one involved a fairly level trail that was actually bordered by a road that had been shut by the park service. Most people going to the Lake were actually just walking on the road. I didn’t want to be so close to others, so I took the trail instead. Once there, I stripped off my boots and put my feet in the water. There was a man swimming nearby and I was shocked that he was actually in the water – it was freezing! Maybe not as cold as the water in Flagstaff when I did the polar plunge one year on New Year’s Day, but certainly not swimming temperature.
The rest of my vacation week was spent wine tasting in Sonoma, but that’s a whole different topic. For now, I have to say that my first real vacation since January was amazing! Yosemite, I’ll be back!
