Thursday, November 27, 2008

Yosemite Part 4:

September 6th, 2002

We woke early again, a little after sunrise. It was cold. It was wet. The grass and vegetation were rather soaked in water and anxious to hang on to it until we stepped near them. Something left a present in the middle of the night. I do not examine scat. We retrieved the packs and food canister, ate breakfast, and began our hike.

It was a gray drizzly foggy day. Each step in the valley just soaked our feet, socks, and legs a little more. We crossed and immediately started switchbacks up the other side from there. To be honest, the day was pretty much a blur. With the occasional sprinkles and clouds it was a little too wet to really even take pictures, so I only have one from my brothers video camera. We were either begrudgingly going up or down a hill/mountain the whole day. I know I saw some really amazing scenery, but my mind was pretty much shutdown.

Towards the end I found a surprising fount of inspiration. FOOD. Rocquel and I were talking about what we wanted to eat. I finally suggested a Chinese Buffet!!!! Really, any buffet would have done, but there was something about a Chinese buffet that really captured my imagination, and stomach (er, well really my tongue).

Along the way we ran into some Park Rangers. We told them about our Bear encounter. They asked if we had seen any sign of another group on the trail. They were supposed to be back but hadn't made it. We said no. Likely, they misjudged their distance too.

At one point I had slipped on some exposed rock and skinned my knee a little. No big deal. Footing was some what treacherous at times due to the mist that came and went.

Rocquel and Brian moved on ahead and encountered our last bear. They got this shot:
Rocquel asked Brian if they should let me know since I was behind them. He said no, I would be fine. As it was I made it past the bear with no problem, even bleeding. Brian went on ahead and I caught up with Rocquel. We were hoping Brian would have gone up to get the car and meet us on the Dam. He didn't, so we had to hike up one final hill. GRRRRR.

Sitting down in the car was pure bliss...until...the stench.

Something reeked. The problem was that we couldn't open the windows too much because it was pretty cold outside. My assumption, and I'm pretty sure I'm right, was that it was Brian's feet. His feet have always been famously raunchily odiferous. Being in a rather cantankerous mood, I was complaining pretty much non-stop only interspersing the foul stream with dreamy thoughts of the nearest Chinese Buffet. Rocquel has an uncanny knack of shutting me down whenever I get like that. She said that it might not be Brian's feet that smelled. I asked her what she meant. Big mistake. Subject was promptly dropped and no more complaining ensued.

We didn't exactly hit the nearest buffet. Instead, we needed to get to Santa Cruz, so we didn't eat until we got there. We showered, THANK GOD, then went to eat Chinese.

Ever spent a Friday night in Santa Cruz? Wow.


  1. There are tales of the stench of my future b-i-l's feet.
    I'd never had the, um, displeasure until he ran in one day, took his sneaks off in the kitchen (where I was spending time playing with the puppies), flew into the shower, and out the door to a wake in different shoes. The sneakers wafted around and perfumed the entire kitchen.

  2. I've read your tales of this trip with great amusement. My brother and I hiked much of the same area together once. He later reminded me that as we suffered through a night with wet and cold feet due to the rain leaking in around the door of my tent that I observed, "Well, it is a three-season tent." I'm lucky he didn't feed me to the bear that tossed my backpack around in the night.


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