He Liked to Drink a Lot of Juice

After yesterday’s crazy hiking shenanigans, this morning came as a warning from each of our bodies that we daren’t try that again lest the bodily rebellion we were feeling today return even more forcefully tomorrow. It turns out that when I call hiking down 3,200 feet a knee breaker, that’s pretty accurate. This morning my knee (only one though… weird) was so sore from turning through all the switchbacks yesterday that I was often reduced to going on stairs using my blown-out-kneed-mother’s mantra of “up with the good, down with the bad.”

For sure, we were all in need of a quieter itinerary today. Tioga Road was more than ready to answer the call. It was a peaceful drive with occasional stops, like the obligatory one at Olmstead Point and a less-obligatory but felt-essential one at the Tuolumne Meadows Grill and Store for lunch and junk food (all of which disappeared within 4 hours). 

And When You’re Up You’re Up

Finally, a day free of drama. A day when we were finally free to do what we wanted, without constantly looking over our shoulders. In short, a vacation from what our vacation had become.

Who Says You Can’t Go Home?

Last night’s saga continued into this morning, although the worst was behind me. I woke up less angry – as tends to happen – and by the end of this morning’s trials, I was past it. I was too busy getting excited about what would be revealed the moment we emerged from the Wawona Tunnel. We had planned Tunnel View as the very first perspective on Yosemite Valley my mother would see, and it did not disappoint: 

Jesus Is Trying to Love You

There’s a favorite in every family. In mine, it’s not me.

Modern Family

After taking enough of these trips, some patterns begin to emerge. The one that shows itself first is that Day One is all about feeling out how things are going to work for the rest of the trip. That’s when decisions are made, consciously or not, about things like how to organize bags and vehicles, how much travel companions will indulge each others’ special interests, and probably most importantly – what will be the tone for the rest of the trip. As far as Day Ones go, today fit the bill.

Greggle Turns North

The statement that this was not the best day of the trip so far would be a massive understatement.

Mainly a transition day, I began by wrapping up my time in San Francisco by heading back to the Marin Headlands to see the bridge and the city at their most picturesque. I must say, this city certainly has no shortage of tailor-made scenic overlooks. Someone should stick a mountain just outside of Boston so that people could have just as good a view of the entire city.

Only minutes after arriving, a near disaster struck.

Save Me, San Francisco

Take note of that title, folks. It will be the only time you see me reference anything by Train, since it’s the only good song they’ve written in about 13 years. That, and the fact that XM decided to play it about 5 times on the way up here yesterday.

So today was my day to “do” San Francisco, and to do it better than I “did” Las Vegas. This task was certainly made easier by the fact that in order to get the full experience of this city, I wouldn’t’ have to smoke, drink, gamble, or hire a prostitute.

 Getting up bright and early, I brought out the nicer long pants I packed (on account of being in civilization and needing to look halfway presentable, without Yosemite dirt all over myself). It was in the high 50’s when I first walked outside and rose to the mid 60’s by midday. In short, perfect weather. I later found out that it’s like this year-round, which gives this place a few more points in the “perfect place to live” column (along with friendly people, a social conscience, a healthy dose of liberalism, and some fantastic scenery). It was overcast – the remnants of what I’m sure was a foggy morning which I slept through – but the iPhone assured me the clouds would burn off by lunchtime. Of course, it was right.

I drove over the Golden Gate Bridge again, this time seeing it but still forgetting to try to take pictures of it, since it was the hour and not me that was bright and early. Tomorrow should bring no shortage of pictures of the bridge, though. It’s basically the only thing on my agenda. I then made my way to the Fisherman’s Wharf area, where I was to pick up my scheduled “cruse” to Alcatraz. Although I’ve never been on a cruise, I’m pretty sure a 12-minute 1.3-mile boat trip doesn’t’ qualify. I’d call it more of a pleasant ride, once the boat got moving. I was told there were porpoises surfacing all around the boat, but I couldn’t see any of them. (More on absentee sea life later.)

"I take pleasure in guttin' you, boy."

Arriving at Alcatraz, I was relieved to see that there was basically only one road and that everything was along it. When I had first heard that visitors were free to wander the island, I imagined literally wandering in circles around the island, trying to find the interesting things to do and see. As it turned out, just following the path up to the cell block on the top of the hill allowed one to see just about everything there was to see.

At the cell block, everyone gets a free audio tour, from a little headset you wear as you’re directed where to go. In it, after meeting the virtual narrators, you’re told to walk a certain distance in a certain direction before stopping and listening to information about what you’re looking at. There must be several different versions, because people were moving all over the place, appearing to be following the directions of some invisible hand. (I don’t think it’s likely that someone would be walking at a normal pace down the hallway and then just suddenly make a sharp left turn towards something they had been ignoring only moments earlier.) This made it feel like you were getting an individual tour, instead of being herded through the cell block like a sheep. Also, since everyone was listening to a headset, and there was no tour guide yelling to a large group, even though there were a few hundred people in the relatively small space, it was unusually quiet. The tour itself was great. It gave very accurate directions and never made you feel like you had even a chance of getting lost.

After exploring the island, it was on to the gift shop. I had expected some cute tongue-in-cheek items there, but that was just the beginning. When I found excerpts from the prisoners’ rules and regulations printed on large sheet metal signs, the teacher light bulb went off. Just think of all the things a teacher could do with a sign that says “Rule #5: You will do whatever work you are told to do.” Or, “Regulation #23: If you make groundless complaints for the purpose of creating dissatisfaction and/or stirring up trouble, you will be subject to disciplinary action.” My only reservation is that I’m not sure what kind of message I’d be sending by putting up prison rules in my classroom. Well, no I know exactly what kind of message I’d be sending. I’m just not sure if that would be a good thing to do.

Leaving Alcatraz, I headed back to my car to feed the parking meter before I got a ticket (I planned on getting back just as the meter expired.) But when I got there, there was already a ticket waiting for me. But something about it didn’t smell right. I arrived at 9:15 and paid for 4 hours of parking, giving me until 1:15. But the ticket for an expired meter was written at 11:37. Needless to say, when my credit card statement with the date and time of my payment comes, I’ll be contesting this one.

After moving the car to a lot where cops can’t write tickets, I went back to Fisherman’s Wharf for lunch. Wandering around for a while, I managed to find a row of crab stands, all basically selling the same stuff for the same price, which made my decision of which to frequent that much more difficult.

Crab is definitely the king of all seafood. It’s half the price of lobster, and actually has some flavor. All of the crab legs available in supermarkets are prefrozen, so when the chance to have fresh crab arises, I always jump at the chance. Choosing a vendor, basically at random, I ordered a crab sandwich and a bowl of clam chowder. Yes, I know what you’re thinking. Why travel all the way across the country to get something that’s famous in New England? I had the same thought, until I realized that the clam chowder here came in sourdough bread bowls, and San Francisco is home of the world’s best sourdough bread.

After lunch, I did some more wandering around Fisherman’s Wharf. I particularly wanted to see the group of sea lions that had commandeered one of the piers, but after walking to both ends of the area, I couldn’t find them. Turns out, just as suddenly as they had appeared, they just up and left about 2 years ago. Very sad day. No porpoises and no sea lions. Lots of seagulls though, and huge ones. Huge ones who weren’t afraid of people and begged for food like a dog when you’re eating pizza.

There were some street performers, including one unconventional man who hid behind 2 palm fronds and, as unsuspecting people walked by, he’d jump out and scare them, as the crowds laughed. It was very funny. I took a video, but I don’t know how to post it (or if it was even uploaded from the camera with today’s pictures). So if you want to see it, I’ll have to show you in person.

After that, I had some time to kill before dinner, so , in the spirit of not having any deadlines or rules, decided to drive halfway across the city to see Twin Peaks – a pair of 600-foot hilltops on the outskirts of the city that afford sweeping views of the entire Bay Area. By this point, the clouds were long gone, so I had clear skies to the horizon in every direction.

Then, just because I can’t go a day without climbing something, I took a short trail to the very top of one of the peaks to see what I could see from there. Well, I couldn’t see much, but the wind up there reminded me of Mt. Washington and for someone who’s never cold, even on a 55-degree day, the cool breeze was refreshing.

From there, I drove back across the entire city to meet my cousin Nanci, who lives out here and who we decided I haven’t seen for in over 15 years, for dinner. Over pasta and pizza (the first pizza I dared to try since leaving the pizza haven of New Jersey), we talked about the city (including the strangely constant weather and the interesting off-the-beaten-path destinations), family stuff, and compared notes on cross-country driving and visiting the national parks in the area. Afterwards, she pointed me in the direction of the baseball stadium (as my mother would be quick to say, because I could have never found it myself) and we went out separate ways. It was a nice change of pace to meet up with someone along the way, especially when they’re family.

So, as I hinted, from there I headed over to AT&T Park, home of the San Francisco Giants. The stadium was clean and modern, like most of the new stadia, but what surprised me were the fans. I got there in the top of the 3^rd inning, and the place was completely full. Not only were there people in every seat, but they were fully invested in the game and hanging on every pitch, even at that early stage. Keep in mind, this was on a Monday night, too. I’m not sure even the fans at Fenway would give such a strong show of support on such an occasion, especially if they were playing the Arizona Diamondbacks.

In the end, after only 2 hours and 37 minutes, the Giants lost after their pitcher, Matt Cain, imploded in the 6^th inning and gave up 5 runs, which would prove to be more than enough for Arizona. I found it funny that I got to see Carlos Beltran hit a triple in a Giants uniform, and JJ. Putz get his 25^th save of the season as a Diamondback. Yet more proof that former Mets who may have been terrible while with New York, always leave the city and immediately become all-stars.

On the way back to the hotel, I decided to stop at the Marin Headlands, just north of the Golden Gate Bridge, where you have a great view of the bridge and the city in the background.

Although I’m planning on going back tomorrow to see it for real, I don’t know when I’ll get another opportunity to see the city from above at night, so I couldn’t resist. Even though it looks like the half of the road with all the scenic turnouts may be closed, I was still able to get to one overlook and take a few cool pictures:

Tomorrow I wrap up my mini-exploration of San Francisco before Greggles Goes North, continuing up Highway 1 into Oregon on my way to Crater Lake.

Spinning On Our Heels, So Far Away From Real

Let’s say that this trip is like a relay race on Field Day in elementary school. If that’s the case, then today I touched the cone on the far end of the field, so that I could turn around and complete the lap. Except instead of a field it was… well, I guess a field, just a really big one… that my car ran across. And instead of a cone, it was the Pacific Ocean.

Here On This Mountainside

As I began the second half of my journey, instead of focusing on geographic and geologic features, today was almost entirely about life. Specifically, the largest life forms the earth has ever known. There is a reverence that comes from walking among the giant sequoias. Even without fully comprehending their sheer immensity, it is plainly obvious to anyone who visits them that they are enormous and nearly indestructible, and that our presence among them is possible only but for their grace. Should one choose to shed even a small limb while crowds are gathered beneath, there would be nothing we could do to save ourselves. We are lucky that these are peaceful and hospitable giants.

Here Be Giants

My fourth and final day in Yosemite. Marked by a return to the peaceful solitude that I enjoyed in Tuolumne Meadows and at Glacier Point but that was sorely lacking yesterday, today I visited a side of the park that was completely different from any I had seen before – the trees of the Mariposa Grove.

The I-It Relationship

It’s possible that I built this day up a bit too much. True, the scenery was spectacular and did live up to my expectations, but the experience as a whole was less pleasant than my days at Tuolumne Meadows and Glacier Point. There was far more people in Yosemite Valley, many more of whom seemed to be there to see Yosemite rather than to do Yosemite. While this wasn’t inherently a problem, I didn’t find myself surrounded by folks who wanted to immerse themselves in nature. While it never seemed as crowded as the Grand Canyon, the peacefully seclusion that other parts of the park had offered were nowhere to be found here. In short, while in the past few days Yosemite and I have approached I-Thou status, today was firmly planted in I-It.

The Mountains Are Calling And I Must Go

There is a magnetism to this place. More than its spectacular scenery, Yosemite just feels different than the other parks I’ve visited. There is a real sense of unspoiled nature here, where we are just a piece of it and we do not control it. Unlike Death Valley, where the wildness is intimidating in its power, the wildness at Yosemite is inviting. Deer graze just feet away from people, with a seeming understanding that there’s no reason for them to act defensively if the humans let them go about their business.

With mountains, waterfalls, cliffs, rivers, meadows, birds, wildflowers, geology, just to name a few, the park invites visitors to try it all on for size. And people certainly take advantage of that. People, by and large, are not here to see Yosemite; they are here to do Yosemite.

To See the World, To Stand Among the Trees, and All the Living Things

Yosemite is for real. The embodiment of the national parks idea in all its glory. A source of refuge and recreation for millions, it is full of people but isn't crowded. Its focus is on nature, not what we have been able to add to it. It is what the Grand Canyon should be, and it is exactly what I had hoped to find here.

It Takes a Hole to Know a Mountain

This has been quite a day. A long day. An eventful day. An exciting day. A great day. In every sense, a day of extremes.