Tuesday 3rd September 2013

After attempting three already convoluted routes of entry into Yosemite park we've finally arrived at 11pm, five hours later than we would've had it not been for the fourth largest recorded forest fire in Californian history that has closed most of the roads into the park and if memory serves burnt around 357 square miles of forest. We (Chris Key and I) are sitting at a table under canvas roof, in a small 4 berth shelter that is both cabin and tent at the same time. Despite our weary condition we're both in a state of silent excitement; attempting to unwind by reading and writing respectively. We've had little in the way of dinner, omitting charcoal from our otherwise extensive shopping spree at Walmart in Carson City was our only if somewhat important failure.


Arriving under the cover of darkness means there is no way of knowing exactly where we find ourselves. However, consultation with the guide pamphlet we've been handed alongside our pre-existing knowledge of the location mean I'm certain that I sit within fifty metres of the Merced river, from who's banks an upward glance will reveal the granite wall of Yosemite valley rising up 3,547ft in American money, which I think is over a kilometre high!


Yosemite cloak of darkness offers abundant mystery and wonder but this cloak hides not just inanimate wonders shaped over millennia, life teams here... Our food is stored carefully with not a shred left in the car for fear of the bears we've been warned will be attracted to the slightest scent: noses more sensitive than bloodhounds, silent gait thanks to padded feet, appetite more voracious than a Californian stoner who's been unfed for days, so we've shut everything up in our bear proof locker made sealed with sturdy spring-action steel bolts. Thankfully no insects that bite have come to our lamps, but a gentle hhhhiiiiiizzhhh of crickets flows over the gentle breeze.


The drive was (I think?) the longest I've done. We're riding a huge GMC Yukon XL SUV with the obligatory automatic gearbox. I'd never normally allow myself to use a car like this except in the very specific circumstances of this trip... To get to Burning Man we needed to carry three passengers, not in itself a particularly big ask but once you factor in all of the kit to camp and live in the desert for a week it starts adding up. This included but is not limited to: an 18ft diameter dome tent, an air-conditioning unit, a gasoline generator, three persons clothes and hand luggage (ie 20kgs suitcases and smallish rucksacks), groceries for a week, 36 US gallons (approx. 150 litres) of water, 100 cans of beer, two huge cool boxes, a gas burner and grill plate gas cooker (and gas), a 5 gallon gerry can of gasoline, 2 double airbeds, 3 sleeping bags, a full set of kitchen utensils and steel crockery, and a few other unspecified items... This vast quantity of stuff which reveals just how much stuff we need to survive, though I guess it was to survive in the desert which maybe a little more demanding than more temperate climbs. Anyhow, we now find ourselves minus most of that stuff thanks to a quick visit to storage unit in Reno (£200 for a year!) and free to enjoy the other elements beyond sheer practicality of our V8 powerhouse (bear in mind I recon this thing weighs close to two tonnes).


To get from Reno to Yosemite requires a crossing, or at least if all roads are open a partial crossing of the Sierra Nevada. As things stand with the fires we found ourselves doing a full crossing via Sonoma pass, which turns out to be the first pass successfully navigated by settlers, led by “Grizzly” Adams in something like 1854. At its highest point we were at around 6,950ft which by anyone's standards is pretty high. The pass was a narrow winding road with steep climbs and drops that lasted for something like fifty miles until we reached the beautiful old town of Sonoma. With the benefit of hindsight this appears to have marked around the halfway point of our journey, though at the time we felt as though we were on the finishing straight. After leaving Sonoma behind we travelled further and further south vainly hoping that we'd skirt round the rim of the fire control area and find a route in as twighlight grew large passing through beautiful little mountain villages nestled among the pines. We'd stopped only twice as we travelled from Carson City and lunch, and this second occasion we doubled back having met our third road block of the day. Hoping for some directions and a little local knowledge in one of the small mountain settlements we'd passed though right before we hit the block. In a pizza shop that seemed like something out of my teenage dreams of American life a friendly girl at the counter gave us a definitive set of directions and the finally we were tantalisingly close to the park!



The route she'd suggested was down a very minor road that swept up and down ever steeper mountainsides as night finally engulfed us climbing over the most precarious pass we would encounter. Eventually we arrived in Mariposa, a small town on the south corner of the national park where the biggest sequoias are to be found and we'd made it at long last to Yosemite.