When last we left our intrepid heroes they had managed to stagger down the Mist Trail in the lowering light, as seen in the above photo, to the bottom of Vernal Fall and on to the Happy Isle shuttle stop. This is a shot along the Mist Trail that late afternoon, with Roy closest to the camera and Aida and Tina further down the trail. I, of course, was straggling behind, using the photo op to catch a brief rest. It didn't help.
Camp Curry was the place Roy and I started to go into shock. Both of us were drained to the core. We somehow ate our dinner - an unexpected challenge and probably our first clue that our bodies were shutting down for the night. We began to shiver uncontrollably and stiffen. When it came time to make the last push for the campsite we could barely move, much less walk.
At that point Tina and Aida decided to hike back to Housekeeping and get the car. There was nothing else to do. So they set out in the pitch blackness towards the camp. It was so dark they could barely see the road. Indeed, Aida said they only knew they were on it because if they drifted to the right or left they could feel the dirt of the shoulder under their feet.
Bears are a real presence in Yosemite. And they've basically lost all fear of humans. Park regulations prohibit any overnight food or drink storage in vehicles or unprotected outdoor facilities. Bears will open cars up like pop-top containers to get to the goodies inside. They even recognize that ice chests are food containers and will rip car doors and roofs off to get at them.
There is the oft-cited safety precaution in bear country that if you make enough noise they will hear you coming and back off. Bears may not be afraid of humans, but they don't necessarily like to meet them. At the same time, you don't want to startle a bear. Loud talking or even singing will be fair warning for all parties to avoid chance meetings.
As such, Aida decided singing at the top of her lungs was the best way to keep the bears away during the march back to camp. So picture this, if you will: two very tired and sweaty women marching down the middle of the road in the pitch-black night - one of them singing, "does your chewing gum loose its flavor on the bedpost overnight" very loudly and very off-key, over and over and over.
I'm glad I missed it and will be forever thankful that Tina braved the bears and Aida's singing to get the car. After what seemed like an eternity, they arrived and rescued us. I slept very long and very hard that night.
Next: the aftermath, debris photos and the Death March redux.
"Water, water everywhere; and not a drop to drink." Vernal Fall, like all Yosemite waterfalls in the height of the runoff season, disgorges a tremendous amount of water. The Mist Trail is so heavy at times hikers wear ponchos or other rain gear to keep themselves semi-dry. It is especially important if you are carrying a camera that is not waterproof. This shot, taken on our first visit to the Mist Trail, captures the force of the fall. The trees and rocks are almost in silhouette and it reminds me of the stylized Chinese or Japanese art.
The Falls were just as spectacular during the Death March, but by the time I reached the footbridge at the base of the Mist Trail, I was done and the scenery was the least of my concerns. It was only with massive cajoling and threats by my companions that I continued. By this time, Tina's and my water bottles were empty. It was still a good 1/2 mile to the trailhead and the promised shuttle bus to Camp Curry. But night was coming on rapidly. We had to get down before it was too dark to see the trail, which was covered in a thick coat of granite dust from the rock slide a few days earlier.
I had no idea how I was going to make it. But we staggered on down the trail as best we could. Fortunately Roy and Aida had a ace up their sleeves. They knew that part way down the trail there was a natural spring that emerged a few feet up the slope from where we would walk. Despite the warnings, we were reasonably sure that if any water was going to be amoeba-free, it would be at the point were it emerged from the ground. So we drank, and drank, and drank. The water was incredibly sweet. I thought I'd never get enough.
There was only one other time that water has tasted that good to me, and that was also from a natural spring, one on the trail up to the top of Mt. Baden-Powell here in the Angeles National Forest. My Boy Scout troop knew of it's location and made a point to visit it every time we hiked Baden-Powell. Like the Yosemite spring, I could not get enough to drink.
In any event, that small, trickling spring, emerging magically out of the powdery dust on that mountainside, saved me. It was still a long haul, but we eventually made it to the shuttle stop in total darkness. Ironically, there was a couple of hikers behind us and they caught up with our party at that point, but not before spooking Aida into thinking we were being stalked by bears. This will become important later.
I can't really remember the shuttle ride to Camp Curry. My memory says we missed the last shuttle and had to walk. Everyone else says we did make the last shuttle. Perhaps my brain had shut down by then. I do remember making it to the cafeteria at Camp Curry and just getting our order into the kitchen before it closed. The pizza was hot, but I could barely taste it; I was shivering and my body was shutting down. Unfortunately, we still had 3/4 of a mile to go to our camp site. But like any good serial, that part will have to follow later.
When last we left our intrepid heroes they had managed to stagger down the Mist Trail in the lowering light, as seen in the above photo, to the bottom of Vernal Fall and on to the Happy Isle shuttle stop. This is a shot along the Mist Trail that late afternoon, with Roy closest to the camera and Aida and Tina further down the trail. I, of course, was straggling behind, using the photo op to catch a brief rest. It didn't help.
