Yosemite in Winter

The first memorable adventure of this year commenced with what in mountaineering is called an "alpine start" - leaving camp usually between midnight and 3 a.m. to ensure the summit is reached by sunrise or early daylight, in order to avoid the hazards of melting ice or snow that can occur later in the day when the temperature increases.

(Ok, that was a mouthful for the opening sentence, but I hope you will keep on reading).

Honestly, it wasn't a true alpine start (I stole another half hour of sleep after the alarm rang at 03:00) and it had nothing to do with climbing, but I figured thinking about it that way will motivate me to stick to the schedule. One of my online hiking groups organized a Yosemite snowshoeing trip the weekend of Valentine's Day - look, the trip had nothing to do with Valentine's Day; it was some people taking advantage of the fact that they had Presidents' Day off to go hike in the snow in the Sierras.  Since that didn't apply to me, I decided to start a day earlier and do my own trip, knowing the whole group would eventually come together somewhere along the trail.  Only one other person decided to join me, so on Friday morningI arranged for the pseudo-alpine style start in order to pick up my partner from Culver City.  After a mishap in finding the freeway exit, I made my way to his place and we hit the road at 05:20.

In Fresno it was time to heed the call of the stomach, but we found ourselves driving round and round looking for a place open for business at 8:30 in the morning (!). Despite this, breakfast turned out to be satisfyingly good at the only café willing to serve us. Then it was back on the highway, hauling ass on Route 41, the Southern Yosemite Highway. The view on the foothills east of Fresno was such:

(Alright, so the colors here were not that intense, I just increased the saturation when editing the original photo for effect)

We finally arrived at Badger Pass Ski Resort in Yosemite half an hour before noon.  Was a clean, crisp day, with waves of sunshine coming down from a perfectly blue sky.  In fact, over the entire weekend, the weather turned out to be as good as one can possible hope for at this time of the year up in the Sierras.  We grabbed our overnight camping permit from the ranger station and lined up at the start of the trail, bulging packs on and snowshoes fixed:

 The trail was actually the continuation of Glacier Point Rd to its end at Glacier Point (a paved two-lane drive in the summer), with groomed snow and lanes for skiers and walkers on either side.  So not exactly wilderness:

After a 4-mile hike, most of it downhill, we pulled off to the side of the road and set up camp.

Setting up a tent in the snow is an exercise in patience and attention to detail. This is how ours ended up looking:

(Again, a photo with increased saturation for effect)

We went to bed as soon as it got dark as the temperature plummeted. It turned out to be a pretty cold night, in the morning we woke up to find the condensation inside the tent frozen into ice crystals… Before packing up and hitting the road, I wanted to have an idea of the snow base depth, so I took this photo of the conveniently located restroom:

Looks like about, oh, six feet…

The second day was to be the big day. Reza and I decided to hike the rest of the road to until about 1 mile before Glacier Point, set up camp, then descend the remainder to our destination light and fast, take in the sight and return to camp just in time for dinner. What we didn’t know was that the 5 miles to the second camp were going to be a manageable, but steady climb, which you really get to feel when having a full pack on.

Nevertheless, the views of the Clark Range made up for the long misery of trudging uphill for most of the day:

 

We eventually reached what in the summer is the Sentinel Dome parking lot and devoted about an hour and a half to preparing our campsite. We didn’t finish setting up the tent, but decided to take care of that upon return. Getting to Glacier Point and back during daylight was imperative and we only had a few hours left. So made for it.

The road from this point on becomes very windy and the descent steeper. Approaching Washburn Point at one of the tightest turns:

Finally, arriving at Glacier Point, the million dollar view:

Yeah, we’ve made it.

View of Yosemite Valley, with Yosemite Falls in the middle:

Reza had a political message to deliver:

It was time to head back to camp. Boosted by the water the three guys we found at the point gave us, we made the ascent back, stopping one last time for this view:

Back at camp, we finished putting the tent together, then melted some snow for water and prepared dinner:

Darkness fell fast, and with it the temperature. We were in bed not long past 18:00 and slept very well the second night. Our winter camping skills were improving: no frozen condensation this time!

The last day was basically just a long backtrack to Badger Pass. Loaded with our packs and anxious to get the weight of our shoulders, we moved fast and covered the 9.2 miles back with two hours to spare (from our initial schedule). We also met up with the rest of this group on this day, the majority of them around the same place where we camped the first night. We talked for a bit, but since they were heading in the opposite direction and had a long day ahead of them, we wished them the best and hauled ass to end our own trip. Hauled ass is the right word here – we were plowing up the hills in the final 3 or so miles of the trip. Impressed with our performance, we got back to the departure point for the end of the trip photo:

Since we had finished early, we decided to take a short detour by Yosemite Valley, as this was Reza’s first time in Yosemite. A perfect ending to the trip, and here’s why:

Tunnel View

El Capitan

Yosemite Falls

Bridalveil Falls

The last shot of the trip is, appropriately enough, a panorama of the Sierra blue – which I’ve been telling Reza about since the beginning of the trip.  Made in heaven:

The end.

Looking for U2

Background:

The story of the U2 Joshua Tree varies depending on who tells it.  It’s generally agreed that the trip the band took to America in 1985-86 was a defining moment in their career, as the resulting album propelled them to international stardom.  It appears that in the course of their travels they took to the southwest desert particularly strongly, and were just blown away by the enormity of the landscape, the wide open spaces, the silences and simply the other-worldliness feel of the earth.  Bono was inspired to write several anthems, which remain among the fan favorites to this day: “Where the Streets Have No Name”, “In God’s Country” and “Bullet the Blue Sky” to name just a few.  The Joshua Tree album was released in 1987 and became an instant classic in terms of music, yet it is equally famous for the stark black-and-white photos Dutch master Anton Corbijn took of the band members while wandering the Mojave the year before.  Most of these were shot at the location we checked out on Saturday, but the most famous one, the album cover showing the band huddled together in the foreground and a mosaic of shapes and textures in the background, was taken at Zabriskie Point in Death Valley. I don’t think that photo shoot was anything planned.  Corbijn probably saw the huge tree from the highway and just pulled over, then had the musicians stand around while he deployed his wide-angle lens.  The tree expired about 20 years later and toppled over; as such the location is almost impossible to trace from the road today, but it was inevitable someone would post the geographic coordinates online, so we just took advantage of that.  Still, it wasn’t easy to find it, having taken some good wandering on that dry plateau before finally pinpointing the exact location.  To our surprise, deep tire marks in the sand indicated that people created their own dirt road there, but this road is not marked on any map and takes some AWD driving off the main highway to find.  The location itself is nothing special and I’m sure none of the band members have given it any thought since they were there 23 years ago, but as with all things touched by god-like celebrity, it’s become an unofficial pilgrimage place for fans.  As such, we had to oblige in joining the bandwagon.  As mentioned, it took us a while and some desert trekking to locate the tree, but we got there with a couple of hours of daylight to use for an elaborate photo session of our own.  The view is grandiose to say the least: a sloping plateau is surrounded by ranges on all sides, with the Sierras prominently displayed to the northwest.  There’s a metal cylinder called the U2ube next to the dead tree in which fans have placed the most random and amazing artifacts; we spent a while looking through those and reading some really heart-warming testimonials, but since daylight was fading fast we had to get going.  I want to go back and finish reading those accounts, so another trip will occur some day in the future.

 

We headed out on a clear, sunny, warm November morning.  After about 3 hours of driving north, we pulled over at Gus’ Really Good Jerky, a run-down shack in the small town of Olancha, in the Eastern Sierra.  There are billboards for miles along Highway 395 extolling the goodness of Gus’ jerky.  Intrigued, I first stopped there on the way back from Whitney in August and got a few bags.  It really was the best the jerky I’ve ever had.  With that in mind, another stop there was mandatory.

 

Jerky of any kind you can think of hangs on the racks.  This time I chose to get beef brisket, turkey and buffalo.

 

But that’s not all!  Gus also sells honey, which I also get every time I pay him a visit.  Good, local, organic…yum!

 

Turns out Gus keeps a chicken coop out in the back.  In Romania, I grew up raising fowl, so seeing this instantly brought back memories.

 

Angela got particularly excited when Brian inserted two quarters, turned a knob and out came a handful of feed…

 

This chicken tried to see if there was more where that came from.

 

Since we were running late, it was time to hit the road again.  Gus’ high-flying flag reminded us that yeah, we’re still in America.

 

Having gotten to what the GPS said was fairly close to our destination, we pulled off to the side of the road.  The Sierras loomed majestically to the northwest.

 

Trying to see if our view matched the one in the album booklet:

 

Alright, so this is the part where we get to walk.

 

What with being November, this wasn’t a hot day at all, temperature was comfortable, yet reminders of how unforgiving the desert is were everywhere:

 

After wandering around for a while, most of times in the wrong direction (particularly me), Brian realized he had not zoomed far enough into the GPS map.  That meant that we were off course more than initially thought.  Corrective action was taken and eventually we arrived at this:

 

The famous plaque that no one knows how it was put there:

 

Well, the tree looks pretty dead in case there was any doubt…

 

We busily got down to recording our historic arrival for posterity.

 

Proof we’ve been there:

The Derby hat seemed to hold a particular appeal.

 

 

Taking a closer look at the smaller objects around the dead tree:

 

 

 

Standing on top of the tree as if I’d conquered a major obstacle… cheeze #1

 

Time to celebrate:

Brian marking the stump with beer instead of, you know…

 

Angela was “in the clear”…

 

A toast!

 

Some more of the stunning landscape.

 

 

 

Then it was time to get all creative and cheesy with the camera.

Cheeze #2:

 

#3

 

#4

 

#5

 

Thankfully, tucked away in the U2ube were original prints of the photos from Corbijn’s 1986 sessions with the band.  We felt compelled to replicate two of those, of course.

 

 

And since we brought along the fire that started it all, why not include it in the shoot as well?...

 

Off to the side, about 15-20 feet from the original, a smaller, less-interesting Joshua Tree now watches over the lonely plateau.

 

Finally, we had to look inside the U2ube and sign the register of visitors.

Angela reading some of the testimonials:

 

More artifacts, held together (appropriately?) by a Walmart bag.  That plastic lemon had something that sounded like ashes inside, and it was dedicated to the memory of someone.  Hmm… 

 

Brian recording his thoughts in the register.

 

The shadows were getting longer, so it was time to head back to the car.  One last photo together:

It was chilly enough to make Angela put on the trenchcoat.  No more comments needed.

 

Sunset over the Mojave, with the Sierras in the background.

 

Walking back to the car on lost highway.

 

The end.