How It Was Today: Fall in Yosemite Valley

How it ended...

How it began...

I woke up late this morning. Mrs. Geotripper was finishing breakfast and asked if I'd like "to go up the river a little ways and find some fall colors". I had lots of grading to get through, so obviously I said yes, and around 11 or so we jumped in the car and headed up the Tuolumne River to see what we would find. There wasn't much, at least not in terms of fall color. So we went a little farther...

We followed Highway 132 up past Coulterville and on to Greeley Hill at a bit above 3,000 feet. Still not much in the way of fall color. So we went a bit farther up the hill and found ourselves at the Yosemite National Park entrance station at Big Oak Flat at 4,000 feet. We finally found a bit of color, although not at the intensity that a few more days of cold weather might bring. 

And we had made it this far, and Yosemite Valley was only 15 miles away. How could we pass it up? 

So on we went into the awesome gorge of the Merced River and into the valley itself. There was the first look at the distant cliffs of El Capitan (left), Half Dome (center), and Sentinel Rock and Dome (right).

Closer at hand were a lot of ripening acorns. The bears and woodpeckers will be happy.

We reached the valley floor and started our tour of Yosemite's greatest hits. We were surprised to find some wispy curtains of water flowing over Bridalveil Falls. The 620 foot-high waterfall is a classic example of a glacial hanging valley. The main trunk glacier flowing through Yosemite Valley was able to erode a much deeper trough than the small glacier in Bridalveil Creek, so the floor of the creek was left hanging high above the main valley floor.

It was not a cold day, mostly in the sixties, but the sun was intense. It brought out what colors there were in the oaks and dogwood trees.

We didn't see a great many varieties of birds, but there were some Acorn Woodpeckers busy collecting acorns and hiding them in tree "granaries". Such trees can have tens of thousands of drilled holes that can hold a single acorn each. The birds live in loose family groups who search for and guard their food supplies.

Yosemite Valley is not a 'typical' glacially-carved valley. Most such valleys have a U-shaped profile, and are relatively straight. Yosemite Valley is characterized instead by bold cliffs that extend out into the valley with dark recesses in-between. This is the result of having eight distinct intrusions of granitic rock, ranging in composition from 'true' granite to granodiorite, tonalite, and diorite. They differ from each other in the proportions of the minerals quartz, potassium feldspar, and plagioclase. They also vary in the amount of dark minerals they contain including biotite mica, hornblende, and a little augite. They also vary in their pattern of fracturing (jointing), and this is expressed in differing vulnerability to erosion by ice, water, and mass wasting (landsliding and rock falls).

Sentinel Dome (above) is a good example. It is composed of fairly resistant Sentinel granodiorite, but it is jointed and thus forms a somewhat narrow high cliff that looms over the valley.

Yosemite Point on the other hand is composed mostly of unjointed El Capitan granite and forms a wide bold cliff. Sometimes people sort of 'miss' this incredible cliff because much of the time there is a stunning waterfall pouring off the west flank of the precipice (the dark mark on the left side in the picture below). That waterfall is only fifth or seventh highest waterfall in the world, and is known by the moniker of Yosemite Falls, measuring in at 2,425 feet. It wasn't actually dry today, but one needed binoculars to see the small trickle at the top of the cliff.

The autumn season is one of the best times to view Half Dome from the middle of Sentinel Bridge. The Merced River is flowing at a low ebb and the still waters make for memorable reflections. Half Dome is another example of an unjointed monolith of granitic rock called the Half Dome granodiorite. It is the youngest of the igneous intrusions exposed in the valley, with an age of about 84 million years. The Sentinel granodiorite is about 88 million years, and the El Capitan granite around 103 million years. These dates fall within the Cretaceous period, which means that when these molten masses were intruding the crust, there were dinosaurs wandering the surface four or five miles above. The dinosaurs would have experienced occasional volcanic eruptions when some of the intruding magma escaped to the surface.

In the years since, erosion has removed the miles of overlying rock and dumped it into the Central Valley or the waters off the coast of ancient California. The region seems to have been eroded to a low elevation landscape that was later uplifted to form the modern Sierra Nevada.

We wandered around Cook's Meadow and stopped into the store at Curry Village to replenish my t-shirt collection. The sun was starting to get low, so we made our way west to our favorite evening viewpoint, Valley View.

Valley View is almost a secret to Yosemite visitors because it has a small parking lot (maybe room for ten cars) at a blind curve so that if you are in the right-hand lane you might miss it. Since the road is one-way at that point, you would have to repeat a five mile loop to get back. The small parking lot is a blessing because it limits the size of the crowd. It's a quiet spot to enjoy the fading light on the cliffs of El Capitan and the Cathedral Rocks. The river usually flows slowly here making for memorable reflections of the cliffs above. We enjoyed the few moments of peace, and then headed home.

And that's the way it was today...
 

The Way It Was: Yosemite on a September Saturday

Not what I was expecting...

I generally avoid Yosemite Valley in the summertime, and I try to avoid Saturdays especially, but I was a glutton for punishment; we hadn't been to the valley since last spring and were kind of curious about how it would be. We expected crowds and dryness and dust.

That's not what we found. In September, the meadows are often brown and the waterfalls dry. Instead, Bridalveil Meadow was green and filled with wildflowers, and Bridalveil Fall, while not roaring by any means, was flowing nicely. The wind occasionally picked up and blew the water in odd directions.

Even Yosemite Falls had a trickle. I don't know if it was left over from the spring, or if it was from the recent thunderstorms, but it was nice to see.

Half Dome is spectacular, no matter the time of year. The afternoon cumulus cloud buildup provided a nice backdrop.

Sentinel Rock is another towering cliff that is an incredible sight no matter the season. It's one of those rocks on the "wrong" side of the valley that is not noticed as often because it is opposite of Yosemite Falls. If it were anywhere else on the planet besides Yosemite, it would be a national landmark all on its own.

A late afternoon treat is the Valley View at the west end of Bridalveil Meadow. There's a small pullout, but it is often ignored by people rushing home from their day in the valley. We found a spot despite the traffic, and simply sat for awhile.

The wonderful thing about late summer is that the low water on the Merced River is often calm and provides a wonderful reflective surface. It was gorgeous and serene.

And that's the way it was...

The Way it Was Last Week: An Island of Beauty in a Sea of Conflict

We got back from a long journey across the harsh and beautiful lands across the American Southwest, but we had an out-of-state visitor, so with a whole day's rest, we felt compelled to go and see the incredible valley that lies just 90 miles uphill from my home. It's Yosemite Valley, one of the most unique valleys in the world. It's simply stunning, and despite the drought conditions that prevailed during much of the (un)rainy season this year, it was surprisingly green (the late season rains kind of saved the water-year).

I am truly horrified by the developments of today and of the last few weeks. My entire identity as an American has come into question because of things done in our name as citizens of this country. I'll save the politics for another forum, but as I thumbed through my images of the trip from last week, I was reminded of at least one aspect of what being an American is: a preserver of the wild places. The National Park system has been described as America's best idea, the idea that some places, some landscapes are so unique, so sacred, that we proposed to preserve them for all time. Yosemite Valley was set aside in 1864, more than a decade before the first national park was established at Yellowstone in 1876. It became an official national park in 1890.

Visiting on a weekday, and seeking out some of the quieter corners of the valley floor, one can still get a sense of the majesty of Yosemite Valley without feeling like one is waiting in line at Disneyland. Get out and walk the trail that winds around the edge of the valley. Bring or rent a bicycle. Get away from the stores, the visitor centers, the standard viewpoints, and experience the valley, if you can.

If you can't get to Yosemite, check out these pictures and realize that this is your land, your valley, a place that no one can be allowed to take from you. But also realize that there are hundreds of units in the national park system, many of which may be near you. Visit them, learn about them, and be ready to protect them from those who would use bad laws and corrupt courtrooms to develop strip mines, drill oil wells, or cut down forests. These are your lands. Fight for them. They are precious.

After the Deluge: Yosemite Valley a Day Later (and a sight I've never seen in more than 100 visits)

Yosemite National Park is a treasure. And the gem of the park is Yosemite Valley. There are spectacular spots to visit throughout the park and region, but ultimately, the sheer granite walls and booming waterfalls are the heart of this part of the Sierra Nevada. Most people know this of course, and the valley struggles with the desires of millions of people who wish to see the park for themselves. There are horror stories of absolute gridlock throughout the valley, with upset families who wait for hours just to get into the park, and then never find a place to park and get to know it better. I can barely imagine the frustration of devoting a hard-earned vacation to see the place and then have it spoiled by the chaos of too many people.

Bridalveil Fall (620 feet) and the Leaning Tower at the west end of the valley

I've been privileged to live relatively close to the park, and in 30 years, I've been there over a hundred times. I've quite literally never had a bad time, but part of the reason is that I've been able to pick and choose the times I visited. It turns out that the time most people set aside for vacation, in July or August, is possibly the least interesting time to do so. It's still spectacular, but the crowds are the worst, the waterfalls mostly dry, and it's hot. In fall, the valley is quieter, and the oaks and dogwoods add a splash of color. Winter brings snow and silence. Spring is noisy because of the waterfalls booming from the canyon rim. If your schedule allows, go there in the off season!

Ribbon Falls only flows in the spring; it's the highest free-falling waterfall in the park at 1,612 feet.

Of course, if you come at another time of year, you would be taking a chance with the weather. That's what happened to me last week. I was scheduled to take my students there on Saturday, but fate intervened with an epic warm tropical storm that dumped inches of rain on the snowpack. The Merced River swelled to nearly 14 feet (10 is official flood level) and major roads in the valley were under a few feet of water. For one of very few times in its history, the park was closed as a precaution and people were evacuated. I was luckily able to reschedule for Sunday, because the sun came up in a cloudless sky and the difference between the two days was astounding.

Upper Yosemite Falls, 1,430 feet high, the second highest in the park after Ribbon Falls (above).

I included some direct comparisons between Saturday and Sunday in my previous post (with thanks to the Park Service for posting pictures of the storm). Today I am offering views of some of the classic views in the park, revealing the vast amounts of water still flowing into and through the valley. The Merced River had subsided somewhat but was still flowing at flood level, but only barely. The main effect was the low-lying valley meadows that were still underwater (the next two pictures).

A flooded Cook's Meadow forms the foreground for Upper Yosemite Falls.

The occasional flooding of the meadows is part of what maintains the meadows as open areas. Tree saplings are smothered underwater, and only grasses and sedges that can survive the high water table. Not all of the meadows have survived however. Since the park was established, some of the original meadows have progressed into thick forest...there are only about 65 acres of meadows left out of the original 745 acres that existed at the time of European discovery. The growth of the forest is largely the result of fire suppression. The park service will occasional burn some of the meadow margins on purpose to help maintain the integrity of the open spaces.

No visit to Yosemite Valley would seem complete without a view of Half Dome, but I have been there a fair number of times when my students never had a chance to see it. When rain is falling, it can be completely hidden in the clouds. But on Sunday it was there in all its glory. The unique shape is due to a combination of exfoliation (the fracturing of rocks parallel to the surface, and jointing, which is the result of expansion as the rock is exposed at the surface. Exfoliation, which tends to remove corners and edges, leads to the rounding of the rock into the dome shape. But a prominent joint crossed the dome, and glacial quarrying at the base caused the rock on one side of the joint to be eroded away, forming the prominent cliff, or face, of Half Dome. When seen from other angles, it is clear that Half Dome should have been called Four-fifths Dome...

Directly across from Half Dome are North Dome and the Washington Column (below). The Royal Arches, in the center-left of the picture, are the result of a sort of reverse exfoliation, where the rock snapped out and fell from the middle of the arch, instead of the overlying cliff.

At the end of our day, we made a final stop at Valley View, one of the unheralded pullouts (only eight parking spaces) with one of the finest views to be had in all the valley (which is maybe why they call it "Valley View"). El Capitan, the sheer 3,000 feet cliff, looms on the left, while the Cathedral Rocks and Bridalveil Falls dominate the right side of the valley. A swollen flooded Merced River fills the foreground, with Bridalveil Meadow just across the raging waters. Only one of the ice age glaciers made it past this point, the so-called Pre-Tahoe (or Sherwin) Glaciation that took place around 800,000 years ago. The subsequent Tahoe and Tioga glaciers only reached the base of El Capitan and Cathedral Rocks. The Pre-Tahoe Glaciation probably did the most work in shaping the valley we see today.

I promised in the title of the post that we would include a sight I have never seen in more than 100 visits to the valley. We arrived that day when the gates to the valley reopened, at noon. A great many other people arrived at the same time, and for the first two hours the valley felt crowded. But by 4 PM, most of the visitors were already on their way back home, and the parking lots were practically empty. That is a sight in itself. But it was the drive out that astounded me.  Every time I visit the valley, Northside Drive from Curry Village to the Visitor Center area is always full of cars. Always.

But these two pictures show the astounding sight...not a single car ahead of us or behind us. For a few precious moments, we had the valley to ourselves. It's something I've never seen before, ever.

There's a secret though...even on the most crowded days in Yosemite Valley, you can find peace, serenity, and quiet. It requires that you park the car and get out. Not every trail is crowded, and in some places you can make your own path through the forest. The number of fellow hikers decreases exponentially with the distance from any paved road. If you are ever given a precious few moments in this grandest of valleys, give it a try. You won't regret it.

And that's the way it was, after the deluge...

The Way it Was Today: There's Nowhere on Earth Like the Ahwahnee

Yes it is true that I am privileged. I live just ninety beautiful miles from this place, Yosemite Valley in the middle of Yosemite National Park in the Sierra Nevada of California. Everyone should be this lucky. It is a treasure beyond the dreams of avarice because its value doesn't lie in money. The value of this place is spiritual. The government of the United States dimly realizes this, and that is why it became our first national park in technical terms, although officially it was the third. Abraham Lincoln ceded the valley to the state of California in 1864 to be preserved forever. Yellowstone became the first actual national park in 1872, and Yosemite became a park in 1890, just a few weeks after Sequoia National Park a few miles to the south.

The valley's true name (in the sense that those who discover it get to name it) is Ahwahnee, the name given by the ancestors of the original inhabitants, the Ahwahneechee. They had been living in and near the valley for at least 3,000 years, and possibly many more. The name Yosemite was given by the European colonizers who arrived only a century and a half ago. It was a corruption of the Native American name for "Grizzly Bear" or "Killer".

Yosemite Valley is often described as a monument to glacial erosion, but it is so much more. In a very real sense, exploring Yosemite is the equivalent of seeing Yellowstone, Mt. Rainier, or Crater Lake from 5 or 6 miles below. We gaze on the granitic rocks and realize they are the magma chambers for volcanoes and calderas that once existed miles above. The volcanism ceased, the land was uplifted, and deeply eroded. Rivers caused deep gorges to form, and in the final moments of geological time glaciers scoured the canyons, reshaping them into the towering cliffs and waterfalls that we see today.

We were there on a geology field studies trip on Sunday, the day after a fairly intense storm. It was beautiful beyond measure. There were members in the class who had never seen the place before despite living close by, and they were in awe. I estimate that I've visited the park close to 100 times in the last 28 years, but I was no less in awe than were my students. This is one of those places that is worth the effort to see before you pass on. It's a treasure beyond imagining.

If you've been reading my blog for any amount of time, you know I've written comprehensively about this place, and then some. I offer up my blog series, Under the Volcano, and Into the Abyss, a study of the geology of the valley and surrounding regions.

Yosemite's Dance of the Seven Veils: The Valley on a Rainy Day

She freed and floated on the air her arms
Above dim veils that hid her bosom's charms...
The veils fell round her like thin coiling mists
Shot through by topaz suns and amethysts

 "The Daughter of Herodias" by Arthur O'Shaughnessy

It goes without saying, but when the rain falls, Yosemite is a different place.  When storms are moving up the western slope of the Sierra Nevada, Yosemite Valley produces strange cloud effects, due to a half-mile deep cleft that has warmer air currents rising into the storm clouds. The familiar big rocks like Half Dome or El Capitan may be hidden completely, or they may reveal themselves in small bits at a time, like the dancer Salome or her many successors throughout time.

Upper Yosemite Falls

I took two trips to Yosemite Valley in April. The second trip on the 30th was clear and sparkling like a diamond. You can see the spectacular beauty in the previous post about the centennial of the National Park Service. The weather forecasts for the first trip back on the 9th weren't so promising. They suggested precipitation all morning with a chance of clearing in the afternoon. The "clearing" part wasn't to be. The rain never stopped from the time we arrived until the moment we left. It ebbed and flowed, sometimes declining to a light drizzle that allowed us to make note stops. But we never saw the whole valley that day. Just little bits at a time.

Staircase Falls from near Curry Village

A disappointment? Oh, not at all. Clouds give the cliffs a sense of perspective and depth that is not always possible on a clear day. The cliffs can seem higher, appearing above the clouds. And the waterfalls...on a rainy day, there are waterfalls everywhere, in the most unlikely spots, and many are impossibly high, rivaling Yosemite Falls in some cases. And the familiar falls are booming.

Staircase Falls come off the cliffs near Glacier Point above Curry Village (yeah, I know, it's called Half Dome Village at the moment). The falls last only a few weeks in the spring and during storms, but fall in a series of steps for a combined drop of 1,300 feet (400 meters). On a quiet day one can hear the water splattering on the cliffs while munching pizzas in the village (always a happy memory!). The "staircase" is formed by a series of prominent diagonal joints (pressure-release fractures) that run across the nearly sheer cliff.

Upper Yosemite Falls

Yosemite Falls are the most famous and iconic of the falls in the valley. They include the upper falls with a drop of 1,430 feet (440 meters), the Middle Cascades at 635 feet (206 meters), and the Lower Falls at 320 feet (98 meters). The total drop is 2,425 feet (739 meters), making Yosemite Falls somewhere around the 5th to 7th highest waterfall in the world.

Yosemite Falls are unique, owing to the extreme drop off of an illogically placed stream channel. It turns out the falls were once flowing down a far less spectacular channel just to the west, but a glacial moraine upstream diverted the original creek to its present-day location.

Royal Arches Cascade

The Royal Arches Cascades plummet about 1,250 feet (381 meters) from the north wall of the valley just west of the arches. They are another ephemeral waterfall seen only in the spring or during rainstorms. They are truly unique in one respect, in that you can easily reach the base of the falls within a short walk of the Ahwahnee Hotel (yes, I know, the "Majestic Yosemite" Hotel, but whatever). The trail, part of the North Valley Loop, takes off from the parking lot, and the base of the falls are just a short scramble up the slope.

Sentinel Falls (left) and maybe Fissure Falls (right)

There are two waterfalls on the south side of Yosemite Valley that are rarely seen by summer visitors to the park, Sentinel Falls (1,920 feet/585 meters), and the falls on the right in the picture above, which may be Fissure Falls, but I am not at all sure. They may not have a name at all (Fissure Falls is an informal name anyway). Sentinel Falls may be the most spectacular waterfall that no one has ever heard of. Can you imagine how famous they would be if they were in any other setting?

Bridalveil Falls

Our short tour of the "seven veils" wouldn't be complete without a feature that actually has "veil" in its name. Bridalveil Fall is often the first waterfall seen by park visitors, being quite obvious from Tunnel View and many other vantage points on the west side of the valley. It drops 620 feet (190 meters from the valley between Cathedral Rocks and Leaning Tower. A short trail from a crowded parking lot leads to near the base of the fall. This time of year, you will get very wet. It didn't matter all that much to my students that day, since they were already wet to start with.

If you visit Yosemite on a rainy day, you are quite likely to miss something. Our students never got a clear view of Half Dome or Ribbon Falls, or the panorama from Tunnel View. But they got to see a different Yosemite, one in which water was pouring everywhere off high cliffs in unnamed waterfalls, and cliffs playing hide and seek with the clouds. It was good enough!