The Yosemite Journals, Chapter Twelve, the Final Chapter

Yosemite, speaking for itself:

Yosemite Falls

Half Dome from Glacier Point

Half Dome from Glacier Point

Half Dome and the Merced River at dusk.

Half Dome and the Merced River.

Coyote

Seen outside a tent.

Mallard

Sally and the swallowtail butterfly.

Climbers on El Capitan.

Climbers on El Capitan.

Yosemite Falls.

Half Dome.

The chapel at Yosemite.

Floating the Merced River.

Mule deer.

Ducklings

Climbers on El Capital shining lights after dark.

The face of Half Dome at sunset.

The Yosemite Journals, Chapter Eleven

(NOTE:  There will be one more Yosemite chapter after this one, so enjoy them while they last.)

Those folks I went camping with in Yosemite last month are big on birthdays.  This trip coincided, intentionally, with two momentous birthdays.  Both Julia and Norman turned 70 while we were there.

Norman

Julia

Kathy

Sally

Missy

Katy

Kristy

Kathy also would celebrate a birthday later in June.  Her 29^th she says, but I know for a fact that’s she older than I am, and I’m 34.

Anyway, birthdays are celebrated in this group, as I said.  Earlier in these journals I mentioned that the lack of underbrush in the campgrounds allowed us to see what our neighbors were having for dinner.  One night we noticed a group of healthy young studmuffins men ate only hot dogs and granola bars.  Katy offered them the rest of our chili and they came over and accepted with gratitude and grace, which gave us an ever closer view of their attributes.. 

So, with all that openness, you can imagine what other campers thought when late one afternoon we all donned silly hats and played even sillier birthday games, acting like a bunch of six-year-olds.  And this was all done BEFORE the almond champagne.

Kathy demonstrates the wrist-flick.

Norman improves on the wrist flick.

That one hit Smokey the Bear, says Kristy.

Norman and Kathy in the semi-finals.

First came a game of seeing who could pitch a plastic dart the farthest, using a launcher powered by a rubber band.  Kathy was the one who discovered the wrist flicking technique and soon the Lower Pines campground was in danger of being bombarded with UFOs from the Upper Pines grounds.

Then it was on to table croquet, a particularly annoyingly simple-looking game of knocking a wee ball through wickets with a plastic mallet.  On a wrinkled plastic table cloth.

Norman playing croquet.

We attempted to pitch balls into holes in a moving plastic sheet.  Soon we were knocking down foam cups with a paddle ball.  I forget the rest—the games were endless.  My friends do not lack for imagination.

The two sisters battle against each other to see who can knock down the cups with paddle balls.

But the best was saved for last, and I’m not yet talking about the almond champagne.

Julia and Missy in the peanut gallery were especially raucous and we had to admonish them several times to "keep it down."

The very best game was racing cars on the asphalt lane through the campground with balloon-powered cars.  I could have played that one all day.

The balloon-powered racing car.

Kristy and her racecar. The greatest distance was accomplished by the person who inflated the balloon with the greatest amount of hot air.  Uh, imagine my surprise when that turned out to be me. My race car is so far ahead, it's out of sight.

Then the pink cake boxes were retrieved from the steel bear boxes where they had been fermenting baking for several days.

Kathy’s cake for her 29^th (!!!) birthday looked a bit the worse for its time in the bear oven.  We decided that its proper place would be in the bear-proof dumpster because it contained ingredients known in California to be harmful to your health when subjected to days of high temperatures.

 

That left the big sheet cake for Norman and Julia’s birthday.  It was in fine shape, and apparently made of indestructible ingredients not known in California to be harmful to your health after being subjected to days of high temperatures.

So, we ate as much as we wanted, then toasted Julia, Norman, and Kathy with almond champagne.

Because turning 70 is a big high-falutin' deal, Julia got out new cups for the almond champagne, rather than using the ones we had heretofore been battering about with rubber balls attached to paddles.

Then Julia and Kristy gathered up the leftover cake, a knife, and paper plates.  Off they went, offering birthday cake to everyone in the campground until they ran out.

Such a birthday party I’ve never before seen.  Totally awesome, except for the almond champagne.

The Yosemite Journals, Chapter Ten

Down at the Devil's Elbow in Yosemite Park one afternoon, the Mallard Family and the Swallowtail Butterfly were doing their best to keep us entertained, but the real drama was a bit higher than this bend in the Merced River, in which and over which ducks and butterflies were competing for our attention.

    

Actually, quite a bit higher, because across the river and through the trees people with death wishes were climbing like geckos up a massive three thousand foot high chunk of granite called El Capitan.  In the photo below, there is a group of climbers slightly above and to the left of the middle tree (the largest pine) in the group of three tall trees at the left of the photo.

While my brain-baked California friends were freezing their tootsies and other body parts in the clear water, I was in the shade, comfortably ensconced in a folding chair with binoculars and cameras with 30X optical zooms glued to the almost vertical face of that well-known climber's paradise.

This photo will help you locate the climbers on the face of El Capitan.  The portion of tree is of the largest pine.  Just a bit higher and to the left is a curved shadow.  Two of the climbers and their gear are there, while the third climber begins making his way higher, slightly to the left of the two waiting climbers.

 

I think there were three climbers in this group.  In the photo below, one climber begins working his way higher while the other two wait with their gear.  The rectangular shape is, I believe, a platform that the climbers suspend and sleep on.

 

Now the second climber begins his ascent.  The first climber is tied off and waits, and the third climber remains with the gear.

Sorry about the fuzziness.  Everything's in the shade right now.

The second climber nears the first.  

While Mrs. Mallard paraded past with her ducklings, other climbers were working their way up farther to the right.

In the photo below, this group of climbers is almost directly above the middle tree in the group of three tallest pines.  The first climber is making his way to the curved shadow almost at the top of El Capitan.

 

The highest climber has reached the crescent-shaped formation and is attaching ropes to haul up the gear.

 Then, he rappells down.  Not me.  Once I got that high, that's where I'd stay.    Follow his rope from the projecting rock in the top center, and you'll find him to the left and slightly higher than his waiting buddies.

Farther down, back in those three tall pines, a climber from another group heads up.

 

The next night, we drove back to a meadow near where these photos were taken.  Using flashlights, we made our way out into the meadow on well-worn paths, where we joined other folks with flashlights. 

The below photo was taken at night, in the dark, but with exposure allowing El Capitan to be visible.  Note the center "spine" of the buttress.

 We pointed our flashlights at El Capitan, and pinpoint lights appeared in two places.  The climbers, tied in for the night, were signaling back.  We lingered for a while, shining our lights and thinking about those climbers so high on an almost vertical face, and searching for other climbers' lights.

As a group we yelled, "Thank you!" and "Good night."

Then we turned off our flashlights and headed back to our camp site, where our sleeping bags were on cots close enough to the ground that we wouldn't get hurt if we fell out of bed.

You know that old expression about "friends in high places?"  Well, it's also true that when you're in a high place, you'd better have a friend with you.



PS:  Little did we know that while we were enjoying the sumptuous buffet at the Ahwahnee Lodge on Father's Day, Hans Florine of Lafayette, Calif., along with his climbing buddy Walex Honnold of Sacramento, were setting a new speed climbing record up The Nose of El Capitan.


Florine summited in 2 hours, 23 minutes, and 46 seconds, exceeding a 2010 record by almost 13 minutes. The next day he turned 48 years old.