WriteAway

I know it seems like I’m all hung up on Yosemite, but it symbolizes for me all of what I love about California. On my first return visit to California, after an absence of 35-40 years, it was the first place I visited.

Having been out of touch since sometime in the 1960s, and having made the occasional attempt to find out where everyone was (and who was still among the living!), I joined Classmates and posted my contact information there. While there were a lot of people from Bullard H.S. listed, there were maybe 1 or 2 from my class.

I figured that they had all kept in touch and already had plenty of contact information… or they were not computer saavy enough to know something like that might exist. I’m not insulting anyone’s intelligence, believe me. I’ve just tried to train a lot of people my age and younger to use computers and the internet and some of the over 50 crowd either have no interest, or continue to believe that they can trash a $2,000 computer by just clicking in the wrong place. Having been out of contact for so long, I couldn’t guess who fell into which category.

I maintained my Classmates membership for a long time and finally, in late summer of 2004, received notification that someone had left a message for me. It was something like “Sunny! It that really you? We’ve been trying to find you for a long time!”. They wanted to let me know about the upcoming 45th reunion of the class of 1959, and to see if I could attend.

My first (and most sensible) response was “No.” I was broke (nothing unusual there) because I had just completed 5 quarters of classes at Capella University and received an undergrad certificate in Graphics and Multimedia. At $1,500 a quarter, plus all the required software and learning materials, I was already in deep doo-doo. And I only had a day or two of vacation left.

Fortunately/unfortunately (a little of both, I guess), I decided I would attend. I talked my boss into an extra day or two of ‘comp time’, and started planning my trip.

I had (still have) family in Fresno that I haven’t seen in many years. I used to have lots of friends there too. So I decided that, as soon as I landed in Fresno I would pick up my rental car, bypass all the family and friends, and drive straight into the mountains. I spent my first night back in California in a Comfort Inn in Oakhurst, a fairly short drive from the southern entrance to Yosemite.

I knew I’d be seriously jet-lagged after the trip (there are certainly no direct flights from Columbus OH to Fresno CA) : from the time I left my house (5:00 a.m. local time) to the time I arrived in Fresno (1:00 p.m. Fresno time/4:00 p.m. Ohio time) I would have been just trying to get from Point A to Point B for approximately 11 hours. Add to that the time to collect my luggage, pick up the car, and figure out how to find Highway 41 and get as far as Oakhurst… it would probably have been suicidal to go any further without a good meal and some sleep.

I was directed to a decent Mexican restaurant, where I got the very good meal. This was important! In addition to being hungry and tired, and despite the fact that Columbus has several Mexican restaurants now, I needed to have some real California Mexican food! On my first visit to the then newly opened Don Pablo’s restaurant in Columbus, I asked the host if the food was authentic Mexican. He said that it absolutely was… but modified somewhat for Midwestern tastes. Although some of the Columbus restaurants good restaurants, there were–at that time–none that were truly authentic. So that first meal was significant for me and I picked something that I had never seen on any menu in Ohio.

After a good night’s sleep and a freebie breakfast provided by the motel, I hit the road. Other than the addition of the Chukchansi Casino, nothing much had changed along ‘the 41′, so I started getting nostalgic almost immediately. When I got to the south entrace to the park, I purchased my Golden Age Passport: free admission to most national parks for as long as I live and can get there. And I headed into Yosemite.

Part of what I love is the wonderful forest in the Sierra Nevada. The sights and smells are not unique to Yosemite by any means and I had been enjoying them since I got above about 3,500 feet. Actually, I’d been enjoying the unique and stark beauty at the lower elevations too. Once I entered the park, however, I was really overwhelmed and the tears started welling up in my eyes.

As I drove through the forest toward Glacier Point Road… through the strobe-light effect of bright sunshine filtering through the dense forest… with the window open so I could enjoy the wonderful aroma… I offered up a ‘thank you’ : Thank you for allowing me to return to this place at least one more time. I didn’t understand how important it would be for me, but I certainly do now. And I don’t care if the class reunion is a complete bust or if the family reunion is less than satisfying. If nothing else turns out to be worth the price of the trip… this is all I really need.

My little Yosemite National Park book, published by the National Park and Conservation Association describes the forest this way:

“A mixed-conifer forest extends from the oak-woodland belt to roughtly 7,500 feet (2,286 m). The dominant species of Yosemite Valley are ramrod-straight ponderosa pines, which average 200 feet (60 m) in height and sport distinctive jigsaw-puzzle bark, and aromatic incense cedars, towering trees often mistaken for giant sequoias. Dogwoods thrive in the dense understory shade of California black oaks, producing a profusion of large, creamy white flowers in May and June. ” page 214

Whatever happened next, I was truly home and understood that. It would turn out to be the first life-changing experience of my trip.

Next post: The next chapter of my ongoing love affair with Yosemite: Working in the High Country at Glen Aulen camp.

Posted in Trip Journal