YOSEMITE & BEYOND

THURSDAY

I no longer know where to start.  Ever day the scenery seems more fabulous than the day before and I lack the words and the photographic ability to adequately show you what I am experiencing.  So I will skip the superlatives today and let the pictures speak for themselves.

rocks at Olmsted

Lunch at Tanaya Lake

I spent the morning driving over Tioga Pass in Yosemite, then I exited the park at the east entrance and headed south on 395 toward Barstow where I will spend the night.  Again the day is perfect -- three weeks of perfect!!  The elevation on this pass exceeds 10,000 feet.   My advice on this road is to make sure you have food with you so you can take advantage of great lunch stops.  Food is only available at one location on the entire road.  I will also advise you take advantage of every potty opportunity -- you never know how far it is to the next glorified outhouse.

 At Toulume  Meadows I saw horses in a corral and signs for horseback riding.  There were also riding opportunities in Yosemite Valley.  I'm thinking I may plan the next road trip around trail riding -- seems like a good idea.  I'll just have to get my legs and tush toughened up before such an adventure.

When I exit the park, a historical market says this road was initially a wagon road for miners but was open to automobiles about 1915.  The road was then redone in the 1960's to accommodate increased automobile traffic.  The road clings to the sides of the hills and is girded up in some places by steel beams. After dropping several thousand feet into the valley, the terrain becomes very arid.

 Past Mammoth Lake area, which is a ski resort village, I am surrounded by mountains on all sides -- some bare, some covered with trees.  I am surrounded by mountains on all sides.  The mountains on my right (west) are very jagged and pointy and steep.  On my left (east), they are more rounded and bald.  They look like the "sleeping fat men" -- that's the way I described the hills along the Columbia River when I was a child. In front (south) the mountains are sueded brown. It is clear to me where "purple mountains majesty" comes from; the mountains really do take on a dark purplish hill when the sun and shadows are just right.  The valley ahead of me has purple stretches as well.  This is truly a watercolor day to capture the scenery. The valley floor is very green, the grasses are greenish yellowish brownish color.  There is a strip of pink area out there, but it doesn't look like anything blooming. Then there are some white places.Some of the sagebrush is very dry  but some has obviously benefited from some water. Where are my paints when I need them?

The mountain in my rearview mirror is slate grey and wrinkled like an old person's skin.  Old wrinkles don't go in just one direction:  lines go up and down, other lines go across, some go kind of slanty.  I know those wrinkles because my mother's skin was kind of like that in her later years: wrinkled all over with lines going in several directions in the same places.  It wasn't just her neck, her whole face was wrinkled.  These mountains are like that, covered with great texture.  Like an old person who has lived a lot of years, these mountains have lived well and weathered a lot of storms.

At 3:30 this afternoon I still have more than three hours before my hotel.  I spent more time than I realized this morning, stopping and enjoying, but it's o.k.  I should make it to Barstow before dark.

Today, and yesterday, the drive is totally new to me.  While I expected Yosemite to be spectacular I was not prepared for all the wonderful mountains after I left the park.  Bishop, CA looked like a really cool town where I could have spent a lot of time.  I made a quick stop at a Dutch bakery, ogled over all the pastries, and only bought one for my breakfast tomorrow morning. 

As I'm driving, I wonder how my friends would like these mountains.  If their standard is tree-covered mountains these certainly do not fit that description.  If majestic is their criteria, then they would love these. I was expecting more desert in this part of California but that has turned out not to be true.  Once I picked my scenic routes before I left, I haven't really used my tour books much since then.  I've had plenty to do and plenty of signs to read so I haven't felt the need for more information.  All of my AAA books are still in their tote bag. I moved them from the back seat to the cargo area last week.

I came very prepared and maybe that's why the trip has gone so well.  But then I think maybe it's because I was open to let the trip be what it was going to be. I expected some difficult days or some extra long days and that  hasn't happened, except for the tire issue in Montana late one night.  I've had perfect weather, great scenery, and I haven't minded the drives at all.  How can  a person tire of such great scenery?  I'm going to have to return one day.  This is the stuff that feeds my soul, the grandeur of it all.  I'm grateful for good roads that allow me to see all of this and the time to travel and the new car and the fact I can afford such a trip.  I don't live too high on the hog when I'm traveling.  I don't need to, because the high on the hog is the scenery.  It's not where I am staying or the lavishness of the hotels or the B&Bs.  Those are just a place for me to sleep until I can get back outside, driving amongst this wonderful creation, a creation that changes hour by hour.  I can't say it changes minute by minute, because these mountains are so large it takes a long time to get passed or through them.  Time is irrelevant here.  There's no reason to rush.  There's no reason I want this to be over.  Although I'm ready for whatever comes around the next corner, and I've been surprised many a time on this trip. I feel terribly grateful that I can do this, that I have the confidence to do it, and that I have the support of family and friends.

The naysayers have been very, very few and I believe there are a few people who wish they were traveling with me.  That would have been fun too, but it would have been a different trip.  I'm not sure  anyone else would have enjoyed spending time with my family, not that they aren't wonderful people, but it's different when you are not a family member and it changes the entire dynamic.  Next time I might take someone with me, but I haven't wished someone was with me, I haven't been lonely.  I met three motorcyclists this morning from Germany at the B&B.  They said they had a mid-life crisis last year and decided they would be in the U.S. exactly one year later, so they were biking through southern California for ten days. We had a very pleasant conversation over breakfast.

At Big Pine, gas is $4.29.  Outside Yosemite it was $4.89; inside Yosemite it was $5.00.  And for those of you who are interested, when I got to Barstow the odometer says 5,195 miles and I am getting 27.4 mpg.

I had forgotten that out here in the West, ranchers often use cattle guards (strips of metal set into the pavement with spaces between) to keep the cows off the highways.  I had also forgotten, that once the cows learn about cattle guards, stripes can be painted on the highway that look like cattle guards and are equally effective. Pretty cool.

About twenty-five miles from Barstow I change highways.  For the first time since I left home I am traveling east.  The sun is setting behind me and I'm realizing from here on I will have the sun in my face in the mornings.  That will be different.  In the afternoon the sun will be behind me. The sunset that will be pushing me home and closing out my days until I get home.  I'm thinking about that tonight because the sun is glaring in my rear view mirror as it slips beneath the mountains.

Another tree for Fred