The cow sign was moved to the trunk to avoid any further difficulties if we should be pulled over for a traffic violation. The small road where we found the sign eventually crashed into Interstate 5 which we took until we could escape to State Highway 132. This was also a small road but it wasn't as empty as the one we had recently abandoned because it headed through a few small towns. There was another interesting sign we saw right before a little shopping area. It read:

SLOW
300 FT
CHERRIES

I should have pulled over and taken some pictures. I've never seen a 300 foot cherry and I'm not surprised they're slow.

---

I hate to admit it, but California is an extremely beautiful state. As we got closer to Yosemite the mountains became taller and more lush. We passed about five deep blue, glacier fed lakes stopping every once and a while to absorb the view. When we finally got to Yosemite there was a toll booth, but, apparently, they stop manning it after about 6:00 PM. We tooled right into the park for free.

One of the first sights you see as you drive in is Bridalveil Falls - a waterfall that flows over a 600 foot cliff. I found a place to stop the car and we hiked through the woods. After climbing a series of boulders and rocks we made it to the crystal pool at the base of the falls and looked straight up to see foaming white water barreling over granite cliff below an azure-blue sky. A mist sprayed out from the falls and created a bright multi-colored rainbow. When I moved to the edge of the boulder we were standing on, the rainbow's arc grew and seemed to end right at my feet.

"The End of the Rainbow!" I thought, "Where's my pot of gold? I've been ripped off!"

Slightly put off, I peered past the tips of the towering, green trees surrounding me and again looked toward the top of the falls. Mist from the waterfall fell lightly on my face as the sounds of crashing water filled my ears. I looked back at the sharp colors of the rainbow and realized I hadn't been ripped off at all.

I just misunderstood.

---

Obviously the camping arrangements inside Yosemite weren't designed with people like Kenny and me in mind. You have to reserve a spot a few weeks in advance and they probably want you to pay for it. Not having a reservation or money (yeah, I had a job but I still had to buy books for my next semester of school) we drove just outside the park and saw a little highway turnout right next to this huge roaring river. We hadn't planned on doing any camping when we left Pasadena - other than counting on being back in Pasadena by Tuesday morning for work we hadn't planned the trip at all - but we were lucky enough to have thrown a tent in the trunk. However, we weren't lucky enough to have packed hiking boots - the closest thing I had were worn down tennis shoes. Kenny was less fortunate, all he brought were boat shoes. Any anxiety over our footwear quickly melted away as we pitched our tent and the sound of the river lulled us to sleep.

The next morning my talking Mickey Mouse watch went off to wake us up: "RRRIIING-Ha, ha! it's 5:01! See ya'! RRRIIIING-Oh, boy! It's one past five! RRRIIING." I pressed Mickey's fingers together to shut him up. I'm not sure why, but a cheerful voice that early in the morning makes you want to kill things - postal worker style.

We got up that early because we were starving college students and we wanted to try and get inside the park before they manned the toll booths - it worked and we got into the park free for a second day in a row. We found a place to park, ate breakfast, and decided to take the trail that goes to the top of Half Dome, a granite peak that gives a 360 degree, panoramic view of the Yosemite Valley.

We weren't really sure where the trail started so we asked this man who was walking with his son and his nephew. He said they were going that way so we could just follow them. His name was Chris, he was fairly young (around thirty), used to live in Texas, and had been to the park over a hundred times. We walked the whole trail with him and it was like having our own personal tour guide. He knew all the trails, the names of everything, where you could swim (the water was too high when we were there), and had a pump with a filter so we could drink straight out of the mountain streams. We talked for a while and after I told him I was from Dallas and Kenny was from Austin he said, "Oh, are you guys Aggies?"

"Yeah, thanks for not guessing Longhorn." (For you non-Texans, the Longhorns are Texas A&M's bitter archrival)

---

It's an 8.2 mile hike to the top of Half Dome but it doesn't seem nearly that long because behind every corner is another breathtaking view. At one point we had to walk up stairs that were carved into the rock next to Vernal Falls . The falls are so huge that the spray rises up and covers you the entire way. By the time I got to the top I was soaked from head to toe - cold and shivering - and it felt great. The five of us hiked on further to another giant waterfall that was upstream from Vernal Falls. The path didn't go as close to this waterfall (Nevada Falls) but there was a great side view of it. The frothing river shot out from the top of the grey wall and conjured up images of a thousand of white stallions stampeding over the edge.

We trudged on in a battle against gravity and the hot sun for five hours until we neared the top of the mountain. The soil and vegetation disappeared completely as if it were afraid to be so high up and we were suddenly standing on nothing but pure granite. We still weren't at the top though. At the end of the huge rock were standing on another huge rock, shaped like a half dome, jutted up another 400 feet or so into the sky. Half Dome's sides are a smooth, glassy granite that go up at a 45 to 50 degree angle (which is much steeper than it sounds). Two steel cables, held in place by pairs of iron rods every six to eight feet, hang from the top of the dome. At the base of each pair of iron posts is an old wooden 2X4 to help give you a good foothold.

The cables didn't look particularly safe but I really wanted to try the climb. I needed to be on top of the rock - I was being drawn to it the same way Richard Dreyfuss's character was drawn to Devil's Tower in Close Encounter's of the Third Kind. I asked Chris if I'd have any problem making it up with the shoes I had on. He said "You can make it, just hold onto the rope and don't look down."

My shoes were way too slick on the granite to get much use out of them. I had to pull with my arms and push off from each 2X4 using my momentum to help carry me to the next plank. It took about thirty very tiring minutes to get to the top. When I finally got there I immediately went straight to the highest point on the rock. The view was wonderously gorgeous - I felt as if I was litterally on top of the world. The only word that even comes close to describing it is "majestic." I could see the entire valley from the snow capped mountains to the lush green valley floor. There were at least four huge waterfalls in sight including Yosemite Falls which is the second biggest waterfall in the world. It is something that can't be described with just words. Everyone should see this view before they die - even if they already have a cow sign.

I had walked all over the rock amazed by the panorama for about fifteen minutes when I saw a little furry, prairie-dog looking creature. I was really pissed off. I huffed and puffed my way up the side the rock for twenty minutes using cables and 2X4's and there was a little rodent up here already sitting on the rock like he owned it.

I pointed at it and asked, "What the Hell is that?" to no one in particular.

Another hiker spoke up, "It's a marmot."

I looked at the hiker and asked another question, "How'd it get up here?"

The hiker just shrugged. I looked back at the marmot. The marmot calmly looked at me, looked away and then moved behind a rock.

When the rest of my group got to the top we went to another side of the dome and had lunch. Across the valley gorge at Glacier Point were some of Chris's friends. Because it was the Fourth of July, he folded out an American flag so his friends across the gorge could take a picture of it. I found it very fitting considering the holiday because I'd like to believe that most people still think of the romantic image of the American West when they think of our country and not of unsatiable commercialism or a nation armed to the teeth.

The top of Half Dome is 4700 feet above the valley floor. I had to look over the edge. There is a place near the high point of the dome where the more daring hiker can crawl through a hole in the rocks and then scoot out on his belly like a lizard to look straight down to the bottom of the valley. I did this and when my eyes reached over the cliff I peered down forty seven hundred feet - almost a mile - straight down. I was at first amazed and then frightened. Amazed at the magnificent sight and frightened of how little it would take for me to kill myself. I cringed back from the edge and took a deep breath. As I laid there I looked over to my right. The marmot was back again, about ten feet away, standing on the very edge of the cliff and staring at me. He seemed to be looking at me as if to say:

You wimp. How could you climb all the way up here and be frightened now. You got here because you wanted to be here. When you're climbing, on your way to the top, you shouldn't look down because you have to concentrate all your energy on moving up. There will be forces trying to pull you down in any situation. When you're rock climbing the force happens to be gravity. There will always be forces working against you when you try to ascend anything. Your volition must be committed to pulling you up. What's below you shouldn't concern you then.

Of course, when you're on the way up you should have a safety to catch you when the uncontrollable happens:

The rock under your foot can break loose.

You may get cancer.

Your mother will die.

Make sure you've got a rope when you're climbing in case that rock breaks loose. Make sure you experience as much as you can while you're healthy so that when you're dying you won't feel you missed your chance at life. Make sure you stay close to your parents so you'll have memories of them when they're gone.

But now that you've gone as high as you can go you might as well look around. It's true, it's a long way down if you were to fall from here but, at least when you fell, you fell from the top. So go ahead and look over the edge - you might get cancer one day.

The marmot took a glance over the side and then walked back behind a rock. I scooted back over the edge and looked down forty seven hundred feet to the valley floor. Every instinct in my body told me to move back to safety but, the longer I stared past the staggering distance to the valley floor, the longer I laid there without falling, and the more I was able to trust that I wouldn't fall. As I felt the tension and fear leave my body I let out a relaxing sigh - and made a mental note to write my mother.

---

We climbed back off the dome and hiked the 8.2 miles back to the car. Kenny and I said good-bye to Chris, his son and his nephew and left on a highway that headed east through Toulomne Meadows in the northern part of the park.

Once we got on the east side of the park we started heading south past the Mammoth Mountain ski resorts. As the sun went down we came up on a lake with cars lining both sides of the highway. We figured there must be something going on so we stopped too. We put out a blanket and invited three girls from the San Bernadino Valley who parked behind us to share it. In a few minutes fireworks from a Fourth of July celebration lit up the sky and seemed to dance with the full moon.
&nbspAmerica: Home of the Free.

After the fireworks ended we continued south to Bishop, California. We badly needed a place to stay because it was almost midnight and we had been up since 5:00 AM. When we rolled into town we passed a nice Best Western and a Holiday Inn but that wasn't what we were looking for. A little bit further down the road was an old neon sign that flashed the name; "Thunderbird Motel." Our search was over. You can stay in a Holiday Inn or a Best Western in just about any city in America but only in Bishop, California can you stay in the Thunderbird Motel (or so we thought at the time - subsequent travels have shown me that there is at least one Thunderbird Motel in every western state).

We both slept for eleven hours until the hotel manager called us and asked "Are you staying or leaving?" We told him we were leaving, packed up, and headed south toward L.A.

As we drove, the snow capped mountains eventually gave way to the lower, brush covered, desert hills which in turn gave way to the flat desolate wasteland of the Mojave Desert. The desert seemed like it would go on forever but it eventually stopped at the edge of the San Gabriel Mountain Range that contains Los Angeles to the north. Almost immediately upon entering the San Gabriel National Forest I could see a haze against the mountain sides. The smog was feeling through the mountains with smoky tentacles and searching for me.

Because the road winds so much it takes roughly an hour to travel through the mountains on the Angeles Crest Highway to L.A. At one point we were high up on a mountain and could see all the way down in to the valley that cradles the city. The smog was still there. It was a little bit thinner than when we left, probably starved by the positive emotions created by people spending the holiday with their families, but it was still there. It sat at the bottom of the L.A. basin, a thick grayish-white with brownish tint, like milk curdled at the bottom of a glass. It was staring up at me and sneering, "I knew you'd be back." This time, rather than not look at it and speed away, I stared back at it. The smog didn't move from its arrogant stance but it didn't seem nearly as indomitable as it did when I left it just four days before. I narrowed my eyes, grinned slightly without parting my lips and thought:

Yeah, I'm back. But you can't touch me now. I know what the mountains and sky really look like. You can keep on trying in vain to choke me but I know I'll still be able to climb Half Dome or any other peak as soon as I leave. You can bombard me with images of people who have given up but I know it won't happen to me: I have family and friends in Texas who stay in touch to remind me where I came from. I'll continue to move up with school, my career or what ever else I end up doing. As long as I'm moving up, it doesn't matter how far I could fall.

I've got a rope.

I won't look down.

And I have this awesome cow sign.

END

---

• 
  Sony 70-300 f/4.5-5.6 G SSM vs Tamron 70-300 f/4-5.6 SP USD Review
• 
  Macro Flower Photography: A Tutorial in Focus Stacking
• 
  Sony Alpha A37 preview
• 
  Sony NEX-F3 Preview
• 
  Lensbaby Edge 80 Optic Review
• 
  Concert and Live Music Photography: Clubs, Bars, and Small Venues
• 
  Olympus Tough TG-1 iHS Preview
• 
  Canon 5D MkIII First Impressions Review
• 
  Sigma 120-300mm f2.8 EX DG OS HSM Lens Review

Add a comment

Notify me of comments