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: The Deep Grassy Valley of the Ahwahnee

No geology exposition in today's post. Our state is choking in a toxic inversion layer filled with ash and particulate soot that is a sad reminder of the lives lost and lives destroyed by a horrific wildfire in the North State. Just for today, a reminder that beauty surrounds us in the depths of tragedy and suffering.

Half Dome reflected in the waters of the Merced River at Sentinel Bridge

Ahwahnee was the Native American name for Yosemite Valley. It's meaning is muddled in time, but it probably means the "Big Mouth", or the "Deep Grassy Valley". It was an island of clear skies and clean air above the smoke and ash. We only had a few hours to visit, so we headed to Sentinel Bridge for a short stroll, and as the sun set in the west we made for the Gateway View at the west end of the valley.

Sentinel Rock from Sentinel Bridge

Sentinel Rock is an astounding vertical cliff that rises nearly 3,000 feet above the valley floor. It receives somewhat less attention than some other rocks and cliffs in Yosemite Valley because it rises behind people who are staring in awe at Yosemite Falls on the north side of the valley.

Yosemite Point and the dry Yosemite Falls

Speaking of Yosemite Falls, there wasn't much to see of them. There was the barest trickle of water that did no more than wet part of the cliff. That should change this week as the first winter storm of year arrives (weeks late). We need it desperately, and many storms thereafter. When the falls aren't there, one's eyes are free to wander over the incredible cliffs that surround the dry watercourse. Yosemite Point and the Lost Arrow stood out boldly in the sun (in the picture above).

We barely had time to reach the Gateway View before the sun settled below the horizon. Only the vertical face of El Capitan was still catching the rays of light, and it soon faded.

The Moon peeked out from the cliffs to our right.

As the valley floor settled into darkness, the sky still glowed. It was a peaceful scene, filled with a serenity that is so sadly lacking right now. We enjoyed the scene until the darkness descended and we headed home.

To help those whose lives have been destroyed in the fire, you can find some ideas here: https://www.sfgate.com/california-wildfires/article/How-to-help-fire-victims-13381066.php

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.

How it Was Today: Sunset at the Gateway in Yosemite

So, yesterday was work. I simply had to take those students to Yosemite Valley, let them get cold, experience nature and all, and learn stuff. Someone needs to do it. Today, I knew I needed to go back. There were just too many times that I wanted to stop the bus, jump out and snap a few pictures. Mrs. Geotripper and I headed back into the mountains today to see what remained to be discovered out there.

There was a lot, and there are pictures for several posts. Tonight it will be just a few shots of the sunset. We were at a pullout were we could see the "Gateway", the narrow western part of the valley where El Capitan and the Cathedral Rocks jut out, forming a narrow cliff-lined passageway into the main valley floor. The sun had disappeared from the cliffs, but was still glowing in the clouds above.

I love this time of year. The Merced River is at its lowest ebb, and the pools reflect like mirrors. The sky was washed clean by yesterday's storm. The scene was peaceful and uncrowded, and beckoned us to stay just a bit longer.

How it Was: Sunset in Yosemite Valley

I went back up to Yosemite on Sunday, just to explore a bit on a beautiful fall day. More pictures will come later, but tonight I leave you with the sunset view from the Gateway at the exit from Yosemite Valley. I don't have much commentary, just the kind of speechlessness that comes with an incredible moment.

The cliff is El Capitan. The river is the Merced, short for Rio de Nuestra Señora de Merced (River of our Lady of Mercy). I haven't found the Miwok name for the river. They called the valley Ahwahnee, meaning "the valley shaped like a big mouth".

Good night! Or good morning, whenever you happen to catch this!