We walked among the giants of nature last week. We strolled the busy shores of Lake Tahoe, stood with the crowd in the mist of Yosemite Falls beneath El Capitan, and finally hiked quietly, contemplatively, along a trail at the feet of the gigantic redwoods of Calaveras Big Trees State Park.
Tahoe was its busy self. No seats at the Beacon. The Yosemite Entrance sign blinked, “Valley Parking Full!” and “All Campsites Full!” The loop road through Yosemite Valley inched bumper to bumper stopped up with sanguine sightseers. Parking was a challenge, but not impossible. Once out of the vehicle everything was melody and fine.
Calaveras contrarily was empty of tourists, much in part because Ebbetts Pass, the high eastern winding tail of Highway 4 through Alpine County, had been closed for the season, until the day we arrived. We had the north grove of giants all to ourselves. After a whirlwind week on a touring road trip, it was essentially settling to stroll peacefully amidst the legs of the Sequoiadendron giganteums, and realize them for the superior creatures that they are.
We have a new friend visiting us this month, which is why we took the royal tour. Patricia is an elementary teacher on sabbatical from Philadelphia who is sweet with Gino, who is here for the merry month of May.
Patricia spent a few weeks on a solo journey of discovery across the south and up the California coastline on Amtrak’s Coast Starlight. She toured Santa Fe, Santa Monica and Seattle, among others. When the train returned to the Martinez station we picked up Patricia and have been running her ragged ever since.
We started local, walking Benicia streets and enjoying Benicia eats. We hit the Chris Club to hear Alvon Johnson. We walked the sidewalks of Berkeley and San Francisco eating lots of vegetarian. With the Bay Area metropolis covered, we headed eastward for the mountains, Susan, Patricia, Gino, and I. Patricia’s friends and folks she’d met on her adventure had encouraged her to see Tahoe and Yosemite, and she was itching to do so. It was our retired duty to oblige.
First stop was the family cabin for two days in South Lake Tahoe near to the bike trail to Camp Richardson. Patricia was oohing and ahhing from the moment we crested Echo Summit. She right away had to take a solo walk to the beach to see the lake for the first time. We started off later and met her coming back from desolate Pope Beach. She said it was wonderful. She admired the glassy surface reflecting the Sierras and blue sky.
With Gino the four of us hiked again looking for pine cones on the dirt trails that scatter about like a cobweb on the pasture and forest floor behind the cabin. Patricia wanted cones to share with other teachers and students.
The next morning met us with a blizzard, so we drove to Markleeville and sat in the Grover natural hot springs. On the drive over Patricia was gazing at the snow flurries and voicing amazement that we would soon be wearing swim suits and walking outside in this snow storm. She was timid and rigid stepping out of the changing room. The wind howled. She scampered pensively to the pool, but once she stood in the warm water, ahhh, she melted and floated on her back, face in the snow.
The next day we drove to Yosemite. We wanted to cross Tioga Pass Road but the blizzard had closed it again. Markleeville leads to the Highway 4, Ebbetts Pass and Calaveras Big Trees, but the pass had been closed all winter. Sad for us because Patricia so wanted to see a redwood. Instead, we drove scenic Highway 88 west past Kirkwood to Jackson and south on Highway 49, stopping for an amazing breakfast in Angel’s Camp on the weekend of the Jumping Frog Competition, so the town was jumping.
We drove into Yosemite Valley free on our senior pass and encountered the traffic previously described. It was not impatient traffic on that long valley loop. Everyone was sightseeing. We found parking at the Village because Susan is a parking genie. We saw the films, studied the history, admired the artifacts, then walked to the waterfall. For us it was more fun watching Patricia watch the waterfall. She loved everything. After, we hiked to the Ahwahnee Hotel, now the Majestic, and had martinis in the expansive lobby.
We stayed late, allowing the crowds to vanish. We had lodging shortly outside the west gate, and our drive was short. That night makes my book for laughing the most often and the hardest in the least amount of time as the four of us bunked down in the same room and tried to sleep.
That was it. Our trip was over. We chose a meandering route home that landed us in Murphys and decided on whim and impulse to go the extra 15 miles to Calaveras Big Trees for the day. We are all so glad we did.
Funny our transformation. For the first part of the 1.5 mile loop trail we remarked and commented on everything around us. We chattered like magpies, pointing and wooing. Eventually the trees silenced us. Nothing we had to say did them justice. Their presence is overwhelming. We discovered the best response was awed silence. The four of us walked together a mute mile. It was the highlight of the trip.

Sharing is caring!