Waning Gibbous Moon
There comes a time in the life of every stimulus check recipient/patriot when he or she must decide: how can I best waste this money? This was the conundrum facing me on my last day of my California road trip. I could continue to dribble out my $600 on breakfasts and gasoline for another week or so - I knew I would enjoy that. Or I could plunk down a wad of cash for a spiffed-out room in the Cedar wing of Yosemite Valley Lodge, a mere five minute walk from Lower Yosemite Falls in the stunning heart of Yosemite National Park, an Aramark production.
I did my duty. I stimulated the heck out of Aramark.
On a beautiful Spring late morning, with my comfort and decadence assured for the night, with a pep in my step aided by a nearly empty wallet, with time to kill before my 5:00 check-in, I set out for one of my favorite easy walks in any national park that I have visited. A few minutes from my parking space was a feeder path to the Yosemite Valley Loop Trail, which would take me for as long as I wished alongside and across the Merced River, past all of the iconic valley landmarks.
In the days of my youth, like a couple of years ago, I could easily manage the whole 11.5 miles, even with snow on the ground. But on this trip, I wasn't feeling the need for speed. I just moseyed along taking pictures and side-stepping the tourons (the new YNP thing appears to be to cart your mountain bike to the valley on your SUV and ride the Loop Trail with 7-10 of your closest and least healthy friends). The farther I walked away from the Lodge, the fewer pedaling chatter-people there were, so I could relax and take in the scenery, smiling and nodding at the occasional peaceful hiker I met on the trail.
Passing Camp 4 on the way to El Capitan, a strong figure emerged from the white residential tent cabins where park employees live year 'round. He walked across about a hundred feet of rocks and duff, straight to me. With a broad smile inside his bushy white beard, he wished me a good day and disappeared into the forest. I knew this guy. More about him later.
I was carrying water, a peanut butter and banana sandwich, and a an apple in my daypack, so I knew I could cruise as long as I wanted and stop as many times as the river and the rocks and the trees and the trail demanded. As long as I wanted turned out to be just over three hours, a pretty moderate course that didn't tax me too much, but let me see the park and fellow hikers in a pleasant mix. Compared to driving the roads and finagling the parking areas at the more famous sites, walking this trail is calm and refreshing. I wish that the Park would offer occasional days on which all vehicle traffic, even bikes, would be banned and visitors and staff would be required to take and abide by a 24-hour vow of silence. Go completely real for one day, observe a nature retreat, listen to the birds and squirrels, the falls and the rushing river water. That would be awesome.
When the walk was over, I took a little nap and wandered the Lodge grounds for a while and soon I was able to access my spiffy room for a shower and an in-room trail meal. Even though COVID protocol was supposed to be followed in the eating areas, there were clumps of people from all over creation in pretty close proximity. I decided to continue the masked social distancing habits from the past year and avoid the crowds. My hot meal in a pouch was good enough.
I love Yosemite Falls and I was lucky enough to be there when it was rumbling loud and strong. My favorite time to visit the Lower Falls observation area is right before dark. I could walk over there from my Cedar room in a few minutes, so at sundown I put on my rain jacket and headed on over. The spray from the falls can soak you pretty fast if you aren't careful. It was getting a little cool, so I suited up somewhat.
Several years ago, about 2006 or so, I saw God one evening at Lower Yosemite Falls. Not the real, actual God, duh, but I saw somebody step out of the shadows while I was watching the falls from the bridge. He passed right by me and smiled a big smile from behind his bushy white beard. Whoever he was, he looked just like those pictures of God they showed you when you were a kid. A strong, healthy fellow in his sixties or seventies, with long white hair and a full white beard and comfortable clothing with a composed, happy countenance. God didn't say anything. He just smiled like yeah, you get it, this is the best time to experience this very holy spot on Earth. Enjoy. Then he sort of faded away into the darkness. I remembered God.
In 2010 or so, I was surprised to see God again. This time, he was sweeping and raking the grounds at Curry Village. Evidently, God is employed at the Park. He keeps it clean, to the extent one supernatural-looking being can. Once again, he smiled and nodded a silent, friendly hello.
This trip, as I already told you, God actually spoke to me near Camp 4, wishing me a good day while I was on my walk. I feel pretty goshdarn special, to tell you the truth.
Anyway, it's hard to take sundown pictures of Lower Yosemite Falls standing there on the bridge shivering in the spray with your Smartyphone, but that didn't stop me from trying. It's a unique experience, trust me, God or no God.
Peace, Love, and Godliness,
Jim
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