A late April day in Yosemite Valley has brought pleasing warm weather to the Park. Pleasure seekers follow in the wake of the warm weather and fill the Park. Cars come and go along the Valley’s roadways as hopeful sightseers search frantically for a spot to park their car. Others prepare to leave and move on to other destinations within the Park, adding to the congestion in the Valley.
Meanwhile, two chipmunk brothers, Brutus and Lutus, stand on the south side of Northside Drive near the Yosemite Valley Lodge. Their stomachs growl from hunger since using up their winter store of food. The spring warmth has enhanced the natural aromas permeating the Valley air. A faint but distinctive odor elicits a memory for Brutus, the older of the two brothers. He recalls burying about 20 black oak acorns on the other side of the road back in October.
Brutus scratches his thin cheeks as the traffic speeds by him. He turns to his brother and says, “Well, it’s a busy day today, Lutus. Are you ready?”
Lutus raises his eyebrows and sternly says to Brutus, “What do you mean, ‘Am I ready’? It’s your turn to cross the road, Brutus . . . I went last time. Plus, you are the one who buried those oaks on the wrong side of the road.”
“Well, you did go last time,” Brutus confirms, “but you did not come back with anything. So, the rule is that it must be a successful crossing for it to count!”
Lutus shakes his head in surrender, knowing he won’t win this argument. His stomach growls again. “Okay, okay. Where exactly is this treasure of acorns you say you buried?”
“If you make it to the other side,” started Brutus before being interrupted by his brother.
“What do you mean ‘if’?” Lutus says anxiously.
“I mean when . . . when you make it to the other side,” Brutus corrects himself, “take about 50 steps straight and then 50 steps at an angle to your right. The stash is behind the big rock you’ll be staring at. Plus, if you cannot smell them from there, you need a new set of sniffers. Bring back as many as you can stuff in your cheeks. There must be at least twenty there!”
Lutus, still not convinced of the veracity of his brother’s October memory, peers at the traffic speeding by on Northside Drive. He prepares himself for the crossing and steps toward the road.
“Just focus on those acorns, Lutus,” Brutus says to encourage his brother. “Focus on those acorns.”
Lutus glances to his right as the unusually heavy, two-lane traffic speeds past him. He waits for a break in the line of cars. Finally, the far lane clears. Only a dump truck with a line of cars behind it moves toward Lutus in the near lane. The long line behind the truck suggests the truck is moving slowly.
Lutus senses an opportunity and makes his move across the road. Unfortunately, he misjudges the speed of the dump truck, failing to take into account that not only is the bed of the truck empty, but that the driver is running behind schedule. Brutus, looking on, puts his chipmunk paws over his eyes as the truck roars by. He fears the worst. The truck passes. Brutus waves the dust and dirt away from his eyes and looks out on the road. He sees no sign of Lutus . . . nothing. The long line of cars passes.
When the traffic clears, Brutus thinks he sees an apparition arise from the asphalt. Lutus’ head pops out of a pothole in the road.
Brutus shouts, “Lutus, is that you?”
Lutus gives his brother the thumbs up and, like magic, jumps out of the pothole in the road and speedily scampers across the rest of the roadway. He makes it safely to the other side.
Brutus stands by the side of the road in disbelief, at one moment thinking his brother would suffer an ignominious death as roadkill, and then, in the next moment, being overwhelmed by the thought that soon he would be gorging on his favorite food of all time, black oak acorns.
Lutus scurries about and finds the cache of acorns. He helps himself to the treasure to placate his hunger pains. He figures that his brother would not mind as long as he makes it back to him with as many acorns that he could carry in his cheeks to honor his brother’s October memory. Lutus makes it safely back to his elated big brother with his cheek gauge on full. They both celebrate and feast on their beloved acorns in the warm April sun.
A fortuitous pothole and some quick, chipmunk thinking saved Lutus’ life. Not all the animals in Yosemite, however, experience such success in crossing the 214 miles of roadway in the Park.
In August 2019, a Park ranger stationed at Olmstead Point indicated that just about every animal that exists in Yosemite could be impacted by traffic on Yosemite’s roads. From the many bears that are injured to the chipmunks and squirrels who “misjudge” the speed of oncoming cars, hundreds of animals are killed each year by the vehicles driven by the very ones who are hoping to enjoy the wildlife.
The ranger shared a display of four animals now classified as “roadkill” (although they had benefited from a trip to a taxidermist before being displayed). Evidently, none of those furry friends found a pothole during their road crossing like the one Lutus used to spare his life.
Assuredly, most drivers in Yosemite appreciate that there are few potholes on Yosemite’s roads. The pothole that worked to Lutus’ advantage is generally viewed as an annoyance by humans. In fact, the crumbling and pothole laden road to Glacier Point can be difficult to maneuver due to the crumbling asphalt deteriorated from winter ice and heavy use. It has become so bad that vehicle access to Glacier Point will be suspended in 2021 so the road can be widened and rehabilitated, much to the delight of the thousands who visit Glacier Point.
The road Lutus safely crossed received resurfacing in April 2018. Large bottom dump trucks brought hot asphalt aggregate to Northside Drive near Yosemite Valley Lodge. They dropped their loose and oily asphalt in long windrows on the prepared roadbed. A material transport vehicle scooped up the “roadfill” and delivered it to a paving machine via conveyor belts. The paving machine then laid down a thick and uniform layer of roadbed. Finally, steam rollers compressed the hot asphalt as it cured (see photo below). A road as smooth as the surface of Mirror Lake in late summer quickly became available for all visitors needing to use the road that day.
Would Lutus still be alive if he crossed Northside Drive after its resurfacing? We will never know. Might it be possible that those two chipmunks on the ranger’s display would still be alive if Yosemite’s roads were not so pristine? Well, we will never know that either. We do know that with so many visiting Yosemite we will continue to place a higher priority on ‘roadfill’ than ‘roadkill.’
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