bodldops | The Columbia Rock Trail

So, after a shockingly late start time of 9am, I drove off in my newly spiffed-up Bessy towards that awesome backyard I've managed to acquire - Yosemite. The drive in was, actually, fairly uneventful. Despite it being mountain driving most of the way, I failed to devolve into a wheel-gripping terrified squeakymouse, which is best for all involved.

Tragically, the coffee I'd picked up to help with mountain driving meant I had to stop at the Bridalveil Falls parking lot, which has an amazingly foul set of pit toilets. Thankfully, they also had a bunch of full antiseptic handwashing gel dispensers. Bleeeegh. Since I was out of the car anyway, I headed down the trail to go see what was left of Bridalveil Falls, on this, what must be the ultimate dry point of the year. There was, remarkably, falls evident - and they were very awesome and wispy. Just. Um. Thin! The banks of the river associated with the falls were massive though - it's going to be fantastic in the spring.

After that little jaunt, I hopped back in my trusty Bessy and motored off to the day parking lot, which is a depressingly dusty little spot that doesn't quite fit in with the rest of the valley. I grabbed my backpack, put on my UCDVM baseball cap, and headed off towards the village, since my camera was making 'hey, my batteries are totally dying here halp' signals.

Batteries bought and installed, I found the signs pointing towards Lower Yosemite Falls, and strolled off in that direction, dodging around a family where the mom and dad were being decidedly nasty at each other. Good grief people, it's Yosemite! Shut it for a minute and appreciate!

I found the bus stop for Lower Yosemite, and the map that was tacked up there. It took me a few minutes to suss out which trail, exactly, went where I wanted to go, since the trails in that bit of the valley resemble a basket weave. After a bit of getting lost, and consulting the brass model of this bit of the valley, I found my way onto a mostly-dirt path (there were random patches of paving, most likely ripped up by the flooding a few years back). I passed a few groups of climbers (and managed not to openly ogle, but dude, climbers are fit and most weren't wearing their shirts :D), before finding the trail I was looking for - Upper Yosemite Falls.

...

And then the switchbacks started. And they weren't just your ordinary, run-of the mill, gentle slope bracketed by sharp turns switchbacks that occur on trails everywhere. These were grinders, steep all over and only 10-15 yards long at most before switching back in the other direction, with fine dusty dirt or slick granite or, at the top, sand. The worst were patches that looked like someone had transposed a cobblestone street on top of the trail - it wasn't, of course, I'm sure 100 years ago when the trail was made it was a very nice set of granite steps to help hikers over the steepest bits... they're decidedly tricky now. And they went on, and on, and on, and I was getting more and more slow... which had it's own benefits - because I was crawling along, I saw squirrels with impossibly long tails, and a crew (family?) of red-headed woodpeckers on a tree just off the trail, and some of the most gorgeous views of the valley you could ever want. (There are pictures. I don't know how long it'll take me to get them up, but yup, there) After a good ten minutes of slogging through switchbacks covered in a slippery, grainy sand that made the hike a little like climbing up a sand-dune at high elevation, I came to the corner of a switchback and thought 'Oh dear lord, I can't do it. Not another one'. So I sat on the conveniently-placed boulder, and sucked down water, and ate my meal bar, and stared out over the Yosemite Valley.

Yeah, I could do it. So I took off again, determined to reach Columbia Rock, no matter how long it took!

...

And there it was, at the end of that switchback. *facepalm*

So I cautiously edged out onto the rock, held onto my hat (the wind was something fierce!), and lemme tell you, the view is fantastic. The older couple that were enjoying lunch (and possibly middle-afternoon-snack, because they had very little inclination to go back down that trail) said they counted 62 switchbacks.

After a while, I decided to head back down. I eyed the trail going further up to the top of Yosemite Falls, but... it was really windy. And my total mileage of the day was already getting into the 4 to 5-mile range without adding to it.

So I headed back down, some parts much more gingerly than others. I ran into a couple near the bottom, and the guy asked me how much further it was. I was honest, since I hate it when people cheerfully say 'you're almost there' and it turns out to be a LIE, and told him there were quite a number of switchbacks to go, but it was a great view at the top. He then looked at me, sighed, and said 'Lie to me like a drunken sailor on leave'.

Yes sir, you're almost there. It's just around the corner, really.

On the whole, I like people on steep trails better than on flat trails - flat trail hikers today tended to be very cross and stressed and never smiled back, where as there was a lot of chatting and laughing and shared 'wtf were we thinking' on steep trails.

Whatever. I was finally back to the land of no switchbacks, and was soon back at Lower Yosemite Falls trail. I then decided to see if I couldn't find the trail that snaked around the north side of the village, so I could keep off the road. At a fork in the trail, I was trying to decide which way to go, and I saw something black out of the corner of my eye. The mental dialogue went something like 'Yeah, I'll take this trail that heads to Mirror Lake argh zipper I have to make sure to close the backpack this time maybe I should have some water huh black thing maybe there's ice cream at... um. Wait. Black thing?'

I turn, and the black thing? Black Bear. About... I dunno. 20-30 yards away? Ish? Close enough that I got a great look at him. I had a brief thought of 'am I hallucinating due to not drinking enough water?' but two guys further down the trail that lead closer to the bear were standing there, staring, with that body language of 'oh wow so cool and yet we are screeeeewed if this goes badly' Sadly, I didn't get a picture, but I didn't get gnawed on either, so. The bear didn't give a fuzzy damn about any of us - he just ambled off down the creek bed in search of food.

So I headed off that trail I was going to take in the first place, and ended up by the stables, where the government horses are kept. I wandered down into the village from here, detouring briefly into the graveyard - there's some interesting gravestones in there, but it has to be one of the most disorganized graveyards ever - there's no indication of what direction people are lying, so walking over graves becomes a problem.

Alas, there was no soft-serve ice cream in the village (WOE), but there was Queen and Beach Boys and Beatles on the radio on my drive out of the valley. Managed about 6 miles hiking total, give or take a bit.

Good day. :D