The Zen of Being Me.

Virgin River Cattails
It's almost 5 years since I went on this trip to the Colorado river. To mee t various wilderness gods and find out more than a few things about myself. I remember people laughing and telling river stories and talking about this and that, and how the "groover" -- riverspeak for the toilet (an ammo can really, with a toilet seat on top of it) -- always was set up in a place with a great view. Why is it called "groover," someone asks. "Imagine what it would be like if it didn't have a seat; That's the way it used to be," was the response. ... Yeah, imagine that. The stories ... finding sand years later in your gear.

Returning to Flagstaff after the trip I called Jeff Foott on the phone in his room at the Radisson, "I'm on the groover," him; "How's the view," me, repeating the mantra of twelve days on the river. The hotel room after unpacking was an adventure in sand, I unpacked, sand ... the fine pink and brown sand of the Colorado ... spread throughout the room. I moved my gear to my truck, which now had sand. Sand. I went home. Sand everywhere. Invasive; vacuum, clean, more sand.


I just opened a lens filter case in preparation for this weekend's trip to Yosemite and felt that fine sharp texture ... the fine sand of the Colorado. I thought of all the friends I made there.

Tomorrow, Andrew and I will head into what is predicted to be a storm in Yosemite, probably unlike this storm that Jim Fitzgerald and I drove into last year, but this week promises ten feet of snow in the higher elevations, and rain in the valley. Oddly enough, Jim will be there in Camp 4 when we arrive. Andrew and I will hopefully ski, or snowshoe out to Dewey Point. Me, sandy photo gear, cat crap on my glasses, pink sunglasses, and a camera. The joy never ends. Zen.

Winter Badge -- Yosemite Valley -- Day 3

Lone Oak in the Meadow

Monday was characterized mostly by snow. It was all snow, all the time. Sunday night's dumping, snow all Monday, and snow all of Monday night, and well into Tuesday. Snow fell from the sky in huge 2" diameter clumps, drifting in the sky even before hitting the ground. Literally, several feet of snow fell. Roads closed, Badger Pass was a "total whiteout," according to one gentleman I met, everyone scrambling to get out of the valley in the morning, and looking for shelter later in the day.

Shuttle Bus Front Window


Snow Covered Pines


Yosemite Oak

Photography was hard, if not impossible, driving was still possible, if I could have gotten out of my parking spot. My truck was pretty much buried, so I rode the shuttle or walked everywhere. I took a hike in what I think was Leidig Meadow. It's not that I don't know where I was it just isn't clear which meadow I was in from looking at the map. I started at the Village and walked across the meadow to the river and then back across to Yosemite Creek and Falls. I carried my snowshoes in the Nashbar Backpack Pannier with the camera in the waterproof drybag, and used them a few times to stomp around in the meadow.

Nashbar Waterproof Pannier Double Duties as Daypack

They plow the bike paths around the valley and the sound of little Bobcat snowplows destroyed whatever calm or serenity the meaodow may have had to offer .

Meadow Close-Up


Me, At the Falls


Yosemite Creek


Yosemite Creek


Near Lower Yosemite Falls
Eventually, I made my way back to camp, to find my tent buried in the snow.

Camp

Camp 4, Yosemite Valley, Day 1

Yosemite Falls,
It started innocently enough -- Jim Fitzgerald and I decided to meet during the trip last week to Joshua Tree to meet in Yosemite Valley and stay at Camp 4 for the weekend. Reports of snow seemed exaggerated, and the price for Camp 4 makes it attractive.

Bear Danger!
Camp 4 is quite famous and historically famous, both for myself and for the outdoor humanity. "On February 21, 2003, Camp 4 was listed on the National Register of Historic Places for its significant association with the growth and development of rock climbing in the Yosemite Valley during the 'golden years' of pioneer mountaineering".[1] In the spring of 1974 I was drenched in a plastic tent just before the snowfall dropped below the valley floor, and was forced to abandon my spring break trip due to risk of hypothermia. This represents one of my early failures at camping, of which I was reminded for years by my family.

At Camp 4 on Valentine's Day
The weather on Saturday was pleasant with drifting clouds warning of an upcoming storm. We wandered around the valley in the afternoon, taking stock of the place and looking for good photo opportunities.

Storm Warning
Later we hiked up to Lower Yosemite Falls and Jim set up his 11" x 14" to capture an oak tree. The Yosemite black oak is currently starring in a recovery effort on the valley floor, which I managed to avoid reading about. Jim's interest is merely photographic, I suspect, he's looking for an increase in value range to help his carbon printing effort.
The Valley Loop trail and the hike to Lower Yosemite Falls are populated by a few hundred thousand (not really) mule deer, so we saw a few.

Two Bucks

Lookin' Up

Lower Yosemite Falls

Near the Falls

Jim with Homemade 11 by 14 View Camera

Yosemite Creek
At the end of the day we found this sight, which seems really cliché. In February it's commonly understood that El Capitan will light up in a blaze of orange at about 4:00 P.M. But not on Saturday.

A Small Amount of Fog