Yosemite not the wilderness it was, but still fun

There are several ways to make an entrance into Yosemite Valley. A parachute would be the best choice but is frowned on. Other options, Highway 41 from Fresno passes through a long tunnel to a staggeringly beautiful view of El Capitan, Half Dome and Bridal Veil Falls. For those who get a buzz from being in the high country, the Tioga Pass entrance at 9,945 is a superb alpine prelude (stop for a picture in the snow in mid July.) Forget the road from Merced. Two construction workers at Olmsted Point told me that it would take 82 years to remove the debris created by a recent avalanche using today's available trucks (don't ever take Mother Nature for granted.)

Today Yosemite is not the wilderness it was of yesteryear. The Fire Fall has flamed out and the number of tourists conjures up an image of sea of plankton. The good news is that our trade deficit should plummet. I've never seen so many Indian ladies posing with parasols, Japanese shutter bugs clicking away or German trekkers chewing up the trails with their league-like strides. The money's a comin' back.

The key to successfully seducing Yosemite today is to be the first person in line at the Curry breakfast buffet ($9.50 starting at 7 a.m.) and then catch one of the lovely tour buses (free) that will drop you at Happy Isles, Yosemite Falls or the Ahwahnee Hotel and other stops. Whether the mid-day population surge is caused by "day trippers" or not, I'm not sure. I overheard a man say "didn't care much for San Francisco, Vegas was great and a day here will be fine." Come on, Yosemite shouldn't be accorded the same status as a trip to the mall.

Anything as beautiful as Yosemite can only be compared to a beautiful woman. Curvaceous granite spires, smoothly polished domes, emerald green water of the icy Merced River can stir the most dormant passions. Test yourself. The hike from Happy Isles (a series of frothy creeks sluicing among boulders) to the top of Vernal Falls along the mist trail will leave you drenched, almost deaf from the roaring waters just a few feet away but totally exhilarated. Another dalliance-rent a rubber raft at Camp Curry and float in magnificent silence down the Merced. Placid waters, soaring valley walls and a Thomas Kincade moment around every bend.

To capture the scope of Yosemite Valley and see what all the hoopla is about, drive to Glacier Point, about one hour. Off to the right is Half Dome, probably as recognizable as Venus di Milo. Across the abyss in front of you is Clouds Rest, a smooth dome of granite perched on the upper shelf of the northern wall of the valley. Down to your right are Nevada Falls, a slim slash of white that spreads and flows to another precipice and becomes Vernal Falls. Yosemite Falls sends a wispy spray hundreds of feet to a shelf which flows on to become Lower Yosemite Falls. El Capitan is the patriarch of the valley and is the largest representation of singular granite in the world. At your feet, over 3,000 feet below is Yosemite Valley, buried in a carpet of green trees. Scanning the horizon reveals the fabled High Sierra, a caldron of molten stone that solidified millions of years ago, exposing layers of granite, undulating valleys, lakes, streams and miles and miles of wilderness.

Any well-planned vacation includes a moment of repose for a cup of coffee. The patio of the Ahwahnee Hotel is a perfect spot. The mountain-style hotel has soaring ceilings, a fireplace you can stand in and 18-foot-high windows. I joined my son Tom and Jay, my grandson, and heard a quirky story. It seems a chipmunk was pillaging the gift shop. He'd run through the open door, nab a tan package of M&Ms and then rush out to the patio. Finally after taking 11 packages, the lady in charge came roaring out with a broom and chased the poor critter away. "Come on, only M&Ms with almonds, not the regular?", I pressed. "Only the tan packages, every time," they said.

Just over 4,000 feet, getting around the valley floor is a snap. The waving meadow grasses, serrated walls of the valley, the sweet scent pines are pure un-fussed with nature. Deer, chipmunks, squirrels, Stellar Jays and even bears are part of natures show. Videos at the check-in desk at Camp Curry warned of bears ripping cars open in search of food. The bears have become very smart. "What are those gallon sized metal cans used for?", I queried a park ranger. "Hikers take them into the back country to store food in. We have one bear in the valley that smacks them around for 45 minutes to get them open and another that takes them down to the river and lets them float away." Sad, a life of crime in the making.

Another side of Yosemite is the "high country." The air at 8,500 feet is thin and bracing, the sky so blue it seems to glare back at you. Meadow grasses reach your knees, crystal clear streams spill into placid meadows and stunted trees speak to the short growing season. Tenaya Lake, right along side the road to Tuolumne Meadows, is ringed with smooth sloping granite shapes smooth as a egg yet flecked with trees that have somehow managed to grow where there doesn't seem to be any dirt.

Fewer people means greater peace and that's why not only Yosemite Valley but the high country is a must. Our lives are so full of responsibilities that a visit to Tuolumne Meadows is worth a thousands sessions with your analyst. Call it a "buzz," a spiritual awakening, finding yourself or just pure fun, John Muir knew his stuff when he said "come to the mountains and receive their good tidings."

n Ron Walker is a Smith Valley resident and traveler.