The week of July 27th, 2015 averaged 100 degrees in Yosemite Valley during the day. At night, the humidity reached over 40%. That week I worked as a volunteer with the Yosemite Conservancy on a number of projects, including general painting, food-storage (i.e., bear-box) numbering, and picnic table restoration.
On Friday, July 31st, we volunteers got excused from work and each one selected his/her own activity for the day. I decided to first drive to Sentinel Dome trailhead where I hiked to Taft Point and Sentinel Dome. Then I drove to Glacier Point and enjoyed the view of the Valley from there. Of course, my bicycle came along in the car with me just in case the opportunity to use pedal-power presented itself.
For anyone planning on going to Yosemite Valley, adding “bicycle” to one’s list of essential items to bring should not be neglected. Although some might argue that a bicycle’s importance lags toothpaste and warm clothing for those unexpected changes in Sierra weather, I’d say it meets the same level of necessity.
Admittedly, bicycling in Yosemite Valley has not reached the status once envisioned by the National Park Service when it completed its Yosemite Valley Plan in November 2000. However, once experienced, few would counter the claim that bicycling “is one of the best ways to see Yosemite Valley.” (James Kaiser, page 124) At times, while riding along portions of the 12 miles of trails in the Valley, it can be like navigating the Park’s grand vistas as a human drone, albeit just a little above ground level.
So, after successfully hiking to my three destinations by mid-afternoon, I decided to return to the Valley. As I neared the Yellow Pine Group Campground where we volunteers camped, I skipped the turnoff and continued on to Curry Village where I pulled into a parking spot in the old apple orchard.
Ahhhh! It felt good to get out and stretch after the long ride from Glacier Point. If bicycles could feel similarly, I am certain that mine felt just as relieved to be taken out of my SUV and to be placed on the dusty Valley floor.
Talk about being grounded! Instead of looking down from Glacier Point 3,000 feet above the Valley Floor, I now viewed its stately perch on the granite cliff high above me as I stood here at the Curry Village parking lot. I reflected on how being in the midst of the Valley’s sheer granite walls never ceases to awe me. At one moment I feel small and insignificant and vastly aware of my own mortality, and, in the next moment, I feel honored and privileged to be a witness to its long-lasting presence in time and eternity.
Perhaps that is what keeps me coming back to Yosemite and to Yosemite Valley. I have yet to find any other destination that so uniquely propels me to a heightened state of ‘being’ as does standing within the magnanimous offerings of peace and security of the Valley’s granite walls.
But enough of being! I came for movement and motion and my bike awaited me. I avoided any thought of a specific destination for my ride, preferring to just get moving and see where my bicycle wheels would lead me.
I looked skyward once more, this time toward Half Dome, which also can be clearly seen from Curry Village. Portions of its face still reflected the late afternoon sun while other parts wore the patchy shadows from darkened summer clouds that moved towards the Valley. I took note, but, being from Southern California, rain did not register with me as a possibility--it seems like such a rare occurrence. Biking became my first order of business.
I secured my helmet, hopped on my bike, and started pedaling toward the main road. Once there, I rounded the turn that would take me to Happy Isles. I passed Lower and Upper Pines Campground and then pedaled to shuttle stop #16 where a huge crowd waited for the next bus. Feeling a bit smug as I moved quickly along the road, I smiled and waved at the large crowd that appeared dependent on the shuttle to get to their next destination. I surmised that, as they loitered about at Happy Isles, I would happily zip by the next shuttle stop before they even stepped foot on a bus!
Indeed, I did. I continued smiling as I passed shuttle stop #17 and turned toward the Mirror Lake trail. Not far from the turn-off, a secluded trail veers off to the left and that’s where my bicycle led me.
I enjoyed my ride so much through this part of the forest that I completely forgot about the darkening clouds. They gained my attention, however, when I felt a raindrop tap me on the cheek. When raindrops two, three, and four did the same, I slowed a bit as I neared the Sugar Pine bridge that crossed over the Merced River.
Raindrops five, six, and seven came at me all at once and I decided to pull to the side of the bridge, get off my bike, and look out over the Merced. Soon I could hear the pitter-patter of raindrops on my plastic bike helmet. The clouds above me had captured my attention.
I stood there by the bridge, as still as possible. I knew it was time to submit to the movement and motion of Yosemite. It came by way of a sudden downpour of raindrops that sparkled the surface of the slow-moving “river of mercy” when the sun periodically shone through the clouds that hurried by. It came by way of a brisk wind that swirled here and there and picked up the scent of petrichor that resurrected itself from the dry forest floor. It came by way of immense pines that now swayed back and forth as if they accepted the cue to orchestrate this grand melody of movement and motion.
As for me, I remained still while the surprise summer storm drenched me. Yosemite moved about me, everywhere I looked. The rain intensified as did the wind and the smell of fresh soil. I welcomed the refreshment that came from the Valley’s movement. The storm lasted about ten minutes.
As the rain tapered off, I wiped off the water from my bike seat and hopped back on. Again feeling smug, I smiled and waved goodbye to the tall pines that stayed rooted in their position. I was back on the move and could think of no finer way to do that than by riding my bicycle through Yosemite Valley.
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