Let's just start by saying, there was no better day than April 25th to visit Yosemite National Park for the first time.

We left the city before dawn. Several folks jumped at the promise of a Yosemite venture, but just as quickly dropped out once they checked the weather app on their phones. Definite cold temperatures, chance of rain, chance of sleet, chance of snow. Do we still go? Yes. Affirmative. I set aside multiple layers the night before––denim jacket, flannel shirt, nano puff jacket, two sweaters, hiking boots, tennis shoes, multiple pairs of socks––and grabbed all camera essentials. I was ready, but the alarm rang too soon and the road called too quickly.
Trudged to Sutter to pick up Deborah, a very worthy travel companion, and then the three of us (I'm counting Teddy the Jeep among our party) advanced toward the freeway, the Bay Bridge and then the long highway to Yosemite. I think we played some jams, but mostly I drove with a deep curtain of sleep hanging over me. There was a wrong turn, a stop for breakfast, some donuts but not enough Cliff bars, some coffee but still not enough energy. Three hours in, we saw signs for our destination. The sun had been chasing alongside us for a couple of hours, and suddenly it disappeared. We climbed up a sinewy mountain road, disappeared into a thick fog and began to curve around hillsides and mountains.
I think we played some folk music as we drove into the woods and deeper fog, and entered a dreamscape. Eerie, it left us breathless. Foreboding, we were also filled with wonder. That's when we both acknowledged the magic of the moment.
We reached the gates and alas, the park was not yet open. Conditions suggested it might be an hour or so, or maybe not at all. Would we wait it out while they shoveled the roads? Yes, shovel the roads for their had been substantial snowfall during the night. Our ears and interest piqued up at the word "snow." It's April, but there's snow. I purchased a year-long National Park Pass. We pulled just inside the entrance, pulled just over to the side of the information station, and set up for the wait. In hindsight, we should have napped... Deb...
The park ranger approached a collective group of cars and waved them on. Within just half an hour, the park was open and the way before us made ready. Thus, we joined the parade of wheels and began our descent into the valley. We snaked around hairpin turns and stared, jaw wide, at the fantastical winter scene around us. Snow hung heavy from the pine branches, flakes and white dust danced lazily across the road. As clumps abandoned their high tree perches for the ground, the snow resembled shifted flour. I am unfamiliar with snow... these descriptions fail heartily so... moving on.

























