after the gift of almost 4 days with my friends near santa cruz, i had planned to head to virginia lakes outside yosemite. i wanted to avoid yosemite itself because of the touristy scene (i am not a tourist - i am on a trip. right, whatever). anyway, before i left my friends', one of them suggested that i rethink blowing off yosemite. he said that even if there were a lot of tourists it was worth seeing - especially the waterfalls. seeing as how they hadn't steered me anywhere close to wrong for four magical days and as i had always respected both of these individuals immensely, i went to yosemite. got in line with hundreds of other cars and i am so glad that i did. just as with devil's tower (a/k/a a multitude of names given to it by the arapaho, crow, cheyenne, kiowa, lakota and shoshone, to name a few and to whom all held it sacred and most of which translate to something similar to "bear lodge"). anyway, just as with the bear's lodge, a serious number of the tourists were zipping in and out. well, maybe not zipping but getting through there as fast as they could to be able to cross it off of some kind of list. seriously, when i arrived at the bear's lodge, i almost turned away given the number of cars. very few people were in the tent site areas (the snow in wyoming in general may have helped significantly in this regard even though the bear's lodge wasn't still impacted by it) although the RV and camper sites were fairly well overrun as was the parking lot near the "lodge" itself. i think i wrote about this earlier in this adventure. main point being despite the numbers of cars, no one was doing much other than parking, buying postcards, taking photos (the latter two i admit to doing more than my share of), seeing the main sites and taking off. i went on 3 hikes while at the bear's lodge and only saw 4 other people. they only wanted to go to the main "amphitheater" and do the 1/8 of a mile walk, according to several of the rangers with whom i spoke. and, sadly, i could have been one of those people once upon a time. i'm glad i woke up before i'm dead and i hope i stay awake until that time.
so, this proved to be the case at yosemite, too, although we're talking serious acreage compared to "devil's tower" wyoming. snow, again, accounted for a multitude of diversions which caused countless numbers of RVs and campers to go into "oh shit" mode and careen through the park at record speeds. it also kept them out of most of the campgrounds - the few that were open - because of the road damage due to recent snow melt or still-in-progress snow melt. i almost got a campsite right in yosemite park itself but the campground had just been reopened and when i almost got stuck and then saw that the only other vehicles ahead of me were 4-wheel drive or some sort of super-terrain vehicle, i left. it took me almost 5 hours of driving, pulling over, driving, pulling over, driving, pulling over, hiking (for an hour) without seeing another human being when a park ranger told me that there was national forest just outside the park where there was probably tent camping to be found, especially as the RVs couldn't get into those sites yet. sure enough, i was able to nab a site at the very first campsite i came to in the Inyo National Forest - right on the creek. i even recorded the sound so that i can have it once i'm home.
i've finally gotten to the point where i can differentiate between a rushing creek or stream and an electric water fountain - the kind folks have in their homes/ offices/ etc. to simulate the real thing - but i haven't yet gotten to the point where i can differentiate a rushing creek or stream from the shimmering of aspen leaves. before this trip, i would never have though of "shimmering" as anything other than a visual term; i'm here to tell you it is an auditory one as well. one i'm falling in love with.
i really wish i could do this trip justice and share it well with anyone who happens to come to this blog. but i can't. i don't have the words, the computer speed, the time, the photographs, etc. but i'm going to keep trying regardless of how abbreviated the posts may be. perhaps - like the photos - they will help serve as a reminder to me so i can try, however feebly, to fill in the gaps later.
today was so incredible - if i hadn't gone through yosemite . . . if i hadn't gone to lundy canyon instead of virginia lakes . . . if i hadn't pulled up camp the second nite when a storm blew in after my lundy canyon hike . . . if i hadn't driven until it "felt right" . . . but i did. i listened with my heart and it's not very good yet at being able to interpret what it's hearing. but it got me to lone pine and, who knew, the alabama hills and mt. whitney. yes, THE mt. whitney. THE mt. whitney that i got a permit to hike. THE mt. whitney that i was able to hike into and up for 3 miles before i was deterred by snow. THE mt. whitney where i almost broke down and went back down to buy crampons and ski (climbing?) poles and a pick axe but, instead, THE mt. whitney where i stopped where the trail was blanketed in snow and, instead, found a beautiful spot by the side of the lake 3 miles into mt. whitney and read a book that my friends near santa cruz had given me. the mt. whitney where, i am not kidding you, i helped someone down the mountain who became very ill with altitude sickness. there had been several people at this point on the trail - the lake - while i was reading and feeling somewhat disappointed, ok a LOT disappointed, that i wasn't getting to go further when i wasn't even out of breath. but when i closed the book, stood up and looked around, no one was there - or so i thought. then i saw this young man (early 30s as it turned out) walking around like he was looking for something. he didn't look well and was seemingly spinning in circles. i went over to him and asked if he was alright. from his response, i thought he'd been drinking. he was insistent that he needed to find a trail around the lake. i told him there wasn't a trail around the lake and then i realized what was going on. he could hardly walk; he was out of water; he didn't believe a word i was saying to him about the trail. i convinced him to sit, gave him a bottle of my water, and told him to watch me as i climbed back to the main trail. he did. i went back down to him and, after about 15 minutes or so, was able to help him back to the main trail - headed toward the trailhead. he'd come from closer to the summit. as it turned out he was dehydrated, had altitude sickness and could hardly walk. we had to stop every five minutes or so at first with me leading. i was really worried he was going to walk off the side of the trail. i offered to carry his pack but he said no. after close to 45 minutes, a man came down behind us and asked if everything was ok. my new friend (name withheld just in case so let's call him john) who was 32 said "yes" and while john was facing the man, i shook my head "no." thankfully the man who came from behind, let's call him stuart, caught on to what was going on a lot faster than i had at the lake. he simply said he was getting tired and was glad to have someone to walk with. gradually john let on to stuart that he'd gotten sick and that i was helping him down the trail. stuart "made" john give him his pack so stuart has john's pack on the front and his own on his back. as we neared the part of the trail over which i had the most concerns (we're now stopping about every 10-15 minutes instead of 5), stuart said that he wasn't comfortable carrying the extra pack over the waterfalls. john said he was ok to carry it again. john didn't look like he was ok to carry it again so i made a deal with them both. let me carry it and, if i fell, they'd both be behind me to help. maybe not such a great idea if everything hadn't gone to plan but there was no way i was letting john go across those falls with his pack and i was feeling really good. it worked. on the other side of the falls, stuart said he didn't realize what time it was and had dinner plans with someone in town - someone he'd met LAST year when he climbed whitney. john assured him he was fine, i kept both packs, stuart headed down at a normal pace and john and i snailed our way down to the trailhead. bless his heart, he was so sick. just before stuart came upon us, i suggested to john that he let me wet a bandanna i'd stolen from my youngest son for the trip. i've had it tied to my backpack the whole time even wondering a time or two why i'd had the urge to bring it. now i know. i dipped that puppy in one of the springs (a positive side of snow melting) and tied it around john's neck very loosely. he said it was like magic the way it cooled him down. little by little we made it down and, one of these days, i may remember to mention some of the conversations we had. when we got to the trailhead, he handed me his poles (i already had his pack, crampons, etc.) and ran to the restroom. i didn't realize that other folks coming off the trail had really understood what was going on but they did. i wanted to ask why no one other than stuart had offered to help but i realized that some of those people were also using all they had to get down. some had gone almost the same distance as john, some lower - all of them had made it farther than me - but i know i was right where i was supposed to be. two of john's friends had already come down off the mountain; one had gotten sick about two hours before he had and someone had joined her in returning to the trailhead. two of their friends were still headed to the top when john got so sick he had to turn around. it felt so good to be able to be there for this young man. it was like a "pinch me this can't be happening" dream that i was even able to be able to help him, physically, and still not be out of breath. i'm not saying that i didn't have to stop from time to time on my way up - i sure as hell did. i've never hiked that high, that many miles, etc. but it felt so great. and the way down was nothing - i was just worried about john and how i could get him some real help. other than feeling helpless in not being able to help him more, the only other disappointment was not getting to look around as much as i wanted to on the way down. but i knew i was exactly where i needed to be.
the passage i read from melody beattie as i began this day was about how we're sometimes delayed or stopped in disappointment but that sometimes that delay or change in plans turns out to be the best thing after all. as i was reading at the lake when i wasn't able to continue my hike because of the snow, the section of the book i was reading was about much the same thing. then john appeared.
on the way back to the motel (where my next door occupant last night turned out to also be from austin and where i stayed because the sign on the highway said the campground was closed due to snow damage even though it was NOT closed when i drove by it this morning on my way into mt. whitney) i debated whether or not to grab dinner or just to get back to my room and shower. i decided to go back to my room. the smell of something baking, however, caused me to change plans and i ended up in this little cafe. i saw some people there that i'd seen on the trail and i didn't realize how hungry i was until i started eating (just like i hadn't realized how thirsty i was after the hike until a very nice looking young man who was parked next to me said how cool it was i was able to help john and offered me a beer.) anyway, as i'm finishing my meal, this man about my age came up to the table. i recognized him from the trail and i know he had wanted to help but his wife had fallen crossing one of the sets of waterfalls so he had his focus, rightfully, elsewhere. he told me that he was sorry he couldn't help and i told him i totally understood and asked if his wife was ok. she was and he said he just wanted to stop by and say how awesome they thought it was that i was able to help "that young man." then, as i was leaving, all 4 of the other folks from "john's" party were at a table. the woman saw me and said "HEY!!" i asked if john was ok since he wasn't with them and they said he was but was recuperating at their motel. they thanked me again and, honestly, one of the two who had made it almost to the summit looked like he was going to go into shock when he turned around and saw how old i was. i told john i was old enough to be his mother, even though my oldest is 29 (almost), and it is true.
if i never do another thing requiring physical strength again a day in my life, today was so worth everything i've worked through the past year and a half. in fact, it may have been more of a mental ordeal than physical. john did not realize how "wrong" something was for quite some time. i just knew i had to stay calm, had to make sure john believed that everything was - and would remain - ok, had to remember everything i possibly could that i've learned from others (including some things related to the outdoors i've only learned recently from my sons nowell and cj). i even had the sock monkey (hanes) my son cory gave me with me and that distracted john for a while as i got him to tell me about his children. and the sense of renewed calm and strength and the ability to be able to trust my heart that i was "given" by my friends near santa cruz all contributed to helping this young man. we really don't do anything alone. ever.
1 comments:
Awesome story! Yes, you were exactly where you needed to be!
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