When I was a police dispatcher in Key West my worst commute home was always on those days when I found myself trailing a marked police car also going home down Highway One. Any motorist who spots a police car in their mirror feels the need to drive at least five miles per hour below the limit. Except me…I wanted to get home dammit!
I was reminded of this workday irritation as we followed my wife’s nephew to his workplace in Yosemite. Fortunately the drive up Highway 140 from his home into the park is by nature slow speed and the scenery of course is as you might expect in such a place as you drive into the famous park.
If you get stuck up a cliff or lost in the wilderness his might be the first happy face you would be very glad to see. He was hired as Yosemite’s first full time law enforcement climbing ranger and now supervises a dozen part time and full time seasonal wilderness rangers. I can’t fathom climbing rock faces for fun never mind rescuing the hapless or collecting the remains of those who fall off. It’s just not what you think of when you go to the National Park.
I never got over the beauty of the Keys when I lived and worked there and Layne always appreciated her commute over the fabled Seven Mile Bridge.
Jesse has an office in Yosemite and isn’t always out in the wilderness but he too hasn’t lost his appreciation for the place where he lives out his career.
It’s hard to imagine how you could.
We went for a walk then he went to work and we were on our own.
It was a busy weekday but not excessive. There is no secret law enforcement back road into the park and we would have had to sit and wait at the entrance had there been a line.
We did park at first in the employee area in back but we found spots even for our huge van along the roads out of the village. Yosemite Village was full and there was no vehicle access but then as we drove along the valley floor we found places to stop.
During Covid Yosemite had a reservation system for entry which has been dropped this year but we found the park to be very accessible even with Tioga Road to be closed.
I don’t need to point out this place is worth the time. I first came here on my Vespa tour in 1981 and when I lived on the coast in Santa Cruz I’d bring my van up during all four seasons and it was always magical.
I worried about crowds but I shouldn’t have. Nor should you.
Except on weekends. Stay away on weekends I’m pretty sure.
We spent Saturday at Jesse’s home outside the park. Lines were long we were told. 
There were crowds of course but no one makes eye contact so you can feel as alone as you like.
We had planned a free shuttle ride…but…umm… crowds as you can see.
Yosemite Falls, a ranger told me, is 2400 feet high in three stages and there is a ton of water pouring out of the exceptional winters snow pack.
The National Parks are brilliant. Everybody is welcome. Even dogs on paved paths.
John Muir fought tooth and nail to preserve the Hetch Hetchy valley next door. He failed and they dammed the river and gave the valley and the water it contained to the city of San Francisco to slake the city’s thirst. The fight today is to open Hetch Hetchy to recreation.
I took Rusty for his own walk. Redwood trees have their own fascination it seems.
Yosemite is a particular mixture of the banal and the spectacular. Behind the buildings that manage the daily functions rise these unbelievable (I mean that precisely) rocks.
On the subject of rocks one sedentary Yosemite sport is to park at El Capitan meadows and watch people imitating spiders on impossibly smooth granite faces.
They say it takes week to climb the rock called El Capitan so the mountaineers are forced to sleep on platforms they carry and then anchor to the wall each night. They crap in plastic bags and some climbers drop them to the ground. Guess who started his career collecting the bags on the valley floor. Glamorous eh? I never really paid much attention to the effort required to manage one of the most popular wilderness attractions in the world. Then I walked past the Federal courthouse where a magistrate sits to judge the myriad crimes committed on Federal land.
It’s a great drive in and out whichever road you take. There are lots of pull outs for slower traffic so even driving the tank I get to travel at my own speed and let others do the same. I was told it is an exceptionally mild spring this year with cold nights and pleasantly warm days, air conditioning not needed. Which it normally in if you want to sleep in June. Our visit gave us perfect weather.
We also drove 45 minutes to Mariposa, the nearest “large town” where Jesse’s wife Megan works as an ER nurse in the tiny hospital. They have that lovely old age pension plan firmly in their sights as they raise their two children. And Mariposa could be a lovely spot to retire after a life of service in the park. I really liked the town. We ordered a cold cut dinner to share and I found Old Speckled Hen to wash it down.
It was a lovely cool but not cold evening shaded under an expansive fig tree; we might have been van lifing across Greece.
Rusty had had a long day. He is getting gray just like me.
