1983/04 Yosemite trip - Vernal Falls |
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Vernal Falls |
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As I got into the valley it was apparent that everywhere above the valley floor was covered with snow. My memories from our July trip were of a low valley floor surrounded by towering cliffs, thousands of feet high. I hadn’t remembered that the valley itself is at 4000 feet and likely to have a similar temperature to Reno. It was decidedly cold and damp when I got out of the car at Curry Village, so I was surprised to find a line-up outside the registration hut. I joined the line and chatted to others for a while until someone mentioned that I was in the line waiting for cancellations; if I wanted to keep my booking I’d better get in there and register!
My rental unit was at the far end of the track, at the base of the cliff, thousands of feet high. The unit was shaped like a cabin, with a full height door, but the roof and upper walls were canvas. On the floor was a single bunk with white linen. It was all pretty basic, but about what I’d expected.
There was still some light left so I thought I’d get one walk in before dark. I walked to Happy Isles and then along the bank of the Merced River until I was in sight of Vernal Falls. Before the trip I had seen a very nice photo of the falls, and I wanted see if my new Canon A1 camera could take as good a picture. This was asking a bit much as the light was already failing but I wasn’t experienced enough as a photographer to realize that my eyes were compensating for the gloom. My pictures were almost black-and-whites. 
I came to a high spot on the bank and tried to frame the falls, only to see that bushes obscured half of the picture. There was no easy way to get to the other side of the river but there was a very large flat-topped rock in the middle of the river. When I say large, I mean about the size of a pickup truck balancing on its nose. From my high spot it was an easy jump across the water and onto the rock. As I landed, the rock moved, only a few inches, but enough for me throw myself flat to try to stabilize it. It didn’t occur to me that I might die, but I had visions of the rock tipping over, blocking the river, and somehow devastating Yosemite Valley. However, as soon as I crashed onto the rock it tipped back into place, and once I’d recovered I managed to take the picture from there. There was nobody else on the trail so no one had witnessed the event, or the mighty leap I had to make to get back onto the bank. As I headed back to Curry Village it began to snow.
At that time I had no idea that food was prohibited in the cabins or that there was a cafeteria just down the hill, so I ate my sandwiches and drank my ice-cold beer. I stripped off my clothes and slid between the ice-cold sheets and waited for my body to warm up my little piece of the environment. It didn’t happen; in minutes I was shivering uncontrollably. I put my clothes back on and tried again. That didn’t work either so I put my hiking clothes on as well, covered my head with underwear and put socks on my hands. I still felt cold but at least the bed wasn’t sucking the life out of me.
I may have finally dozed off, as the violent crash and whump on the roof came as a total surprise. Bears! We’d had a few encounters on our previous trip, but this time they were coming through the roof? Whatever it was it hadn’t penetrated the canvas, but I wasn’t going to get any sleep until I found out what was happening. As I opened the door I found out in a hurry, as a barrow-load of snow fell across my head and shoulders. It was snowing very hard, great wet white flakes, filling the tree branches until they bent and dumped their accumulated load. That’s what had hit the cabin roof. I shook off the worst of the snow and climbed back into bed. One hour later, another whump!
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Yosemite weekend trip |
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