Day 9: Little Yosemite Valley to THE Yosemite Valley

Our final day of backpacking, it makes me cry again to think of it.  How could one not want to end a trip that had been filled with such challenges and scary events?  But I didn't want it to end.  There were so many other magical moments that blotted out the scary ones.  We had 4.7 miles to go and another 2,000 foot drop in elevation to the Yosemite Valley. 

As we set off down the trail, we passed the trail that led to Half Dome.  It would have been 3.5 miles up and then back.  Of course we would have done it as a day hike from our camp and left our heavy packs behind.  I zoomed in and you can see the cables that one must hang onto in order to make the ascent.  Some day I will return and scale that marvelous piece of granite.

We had SO much more zigzagging today.  We also very quickly started to get overwhelmed with day hikers that were coming up to do Half Dome, or to get to the top of Nevada and Vernal Falls.  At first it seemed pleasant, they were friendly, asked how long we had been up, and commended our great efforts.  They looked so lightweight and free with maybe a water bottle or small day pack.  They looked so clean and wore bright white socks.  The waft of laundry detergent or perfume caught our noses as they breezed by.  I don't even want to know what sort of a scent they picked up from us!

But then as we inched our way down the steep trail, the number of day hikers coming up became overwhelming.  It felt foreign to be around so many people.  The farther down we got, the less friendly and respectful they became.  We got stares, we got brushed past rudely.  This began my most difficult re-entry into the "real world".
    

This cute little guy....I believe a Douglas squirrel?  He was chomping away at a baby pine cone, just tearing it to bits.
  

We arrived at the top of Nevada  Falls.  It's incredible to think that the same water that gently flowed passed our camp at Doc Moyle's was rushing down this mountainside so many miles away and so much farther down in elevation.

From Nevada Falls is winds its way and crashes way, way down over Vernal Falls.

The above and below pictures are taken from the top of Vernal Falls.  It is incredibly powerful to hear and see.  On the other hand, by this point we were surrounded by throngs of folks making the day hike up to the falls.  I felt we couldn't stop and enjoy the falls for needing to get away from all the people.

The trail was so very steep, and very narrow.  It was one-lane only in most places and the dayhikers continued to swarm and brush rudely past us.  We were slowly working our way down with hiking poles and heavy burdens on our backs.  Obviously we looked like we didn't belong, but the culture shock was tough for me.

Near the top of Vernal Falls is a little alcove where there used to be a cafe in the 1800s (incredibly so because it was only accessible by mules and ladders!).  We climbed up for a lunch break there and Jeff showed us some hidden graffiti from 1860 that very few people know about.  So cool!

Vernal Falls, one of the most gorgeous falls in my book.

Near the base of Vernal are the remains of an old, old tree.  In Dad's Yosemite collecting and research he has become infatuated with this tree and has tried to date this tree based on old paintings, stereoviews, and photos.  He climbed way down and had brought along a marked string so that he could measure the base of it.  He's way down there in the white, kneeling by the base.  Crazy dangerous, but he was determined!  Honestly, this was a highlight of the trip to him and I'm sure we'll be hearing much more about it in his book write.

Yes, we saw a bobcat just off the trail!  Sure glad he didn't visit our camp in the back country!

So we finally arrived into the Yosemite Valley mid-afternoon.  Three rode the shuttle to the parking lot where our vehicles were to be, and Jeff, Jonathan, and I walked an extra mile because we couldn't bear to be around so many people on the crowded shuttle.  We all arrived at the same time and were easily able to find our cars.

It felt good to know we had accomplished our trek.  It felt so good to lay our heavy burdens down.  It felt good to be able to turn my phone on and call home.  It felt good to be safe.  Conversely, it felt depressing to be done with our trek.  It felt odd to lay down my pack that had become one with me during the week.  It felt strange to use a phone and try to meld my two worlds.  It felt terrible to say goodbye to Jeremy and Jonathan as they headed back to the Bay Area and on to the airport.  I so did not want the journey to be at its end.  Yes, I had a wonderful family awaiting me at home and I missed them terribly, but putting my two worlds together was already difficult.

We spent just a little time in the Valley, stopping by the gift shop so I could pick up some treats for the kids, and visiting the Ansel Adams Gallery.  Jeff had worked in the gallery for a number of years alongside Ansel and Virginia.  He proudly showed us some of his credits and photos in the display copies of Ansel's books.
  

We have a tradition of stopping in Mariposa at the Happy Burger Diner on our way out of Yosemite.  In all our scruffiness, dirtiness, and smelliness, we enjoyed some good food and being served by a waitress.  Fresh fruit tasted delicious, drinks with ice, real silverware and napkins.  I felt slightly out of place, but sure enjoyed it.

We arrived back in the bay area fairly late.  Jeff to his hotel, and Dad, Mom, and I to ours.  I had the honor of the first shower.  I plugged the tub so as to allow my feet to soak while showering, but oh my, it was nasty.  I scrubbed and scrubbed.  After more than eight days without a shower, it felt so good!  I tried to scrub away the ring around the tub and apologized to Mom, but she understood and I'm sure she left her own ring around the tub for Dad.  :)  Crawling into a soft, spacious, king-sized bed with not just one pillow, but many.... all to myself....as much as I missed the mountains and my tent, I was enjoying this luxury!