Yosemite & Oakhurst, California - April 2024
Solo trip number four was an adventure I'll never forget. Emphasis on adventure. Something I noticed while there was that I've unintentionally gravitated towards cities when solo traveling, but this time I hit the countryside of California; a new part I'd never seen. This came with a few bumps in the road, but it was magic nonetheless. From the moment I walked out of the airport, the perfect weather hugged me like an old friend. My first thought was, "wow, no wonder people live here". Coming in, I wasn't sure what to expect, so the weather was a lovely plus. I only spent a few hours here before moving north to Oakhurst, but while here I noticed it felt similar to Phoenix. Heavy Hispanic influence, new and old cultures are present and even some of the streets looked the same. Though, Fresno had some of these beautiful intricate homes with crowned molding, elaborate gardens and designed wrought iron fences that I loved seeing from the car window.
From the highway, you can see snow capped Sierra Vista mountains surrounding the valley. There's green EVERYWHERE. Rolling soft green hills with cows scattered go about their days and I pass wineries and farms with each mile. Dark green bushes begin to change the landscape from bright green to deep forest. The number of animals I see while I'm here is astounding. Eagle like birds ride the air waves above the road and goats, horses and cows are all over. The mountains grow as you get closer. After an hour of trying not to nod off in the backseat, my lyft drops me off at the Sierra Sky Ranch, a beautiful local hotel who's property was founded in the mid 1800s. I get checked in and after telling the receptionist I don't have a car on the property, her face shows immediate concern. I realize here I've made a mistake. As I'm used to getting around on foot in populated cities, Oakhurst taught me several lessons in small town living, including where winding roads mean you need a car to get from A to B.
The day is young, so I set off on foot towards town to pick up my rental bike. Long story short, after learning how narrow the roads are here with no walking room available, I cut my losses on the $75 deposit I had and cancel the bike reservation. I make it about a mile and a half down the road to Reimer's Candy Shop. My wifi is on the fritz and I'm limited on options. I figure I can come up with a solution while here, so to help me think I buy a Sierra blackberry ice cream from the lovely people working the shop. Eventually I cave and ask them for their wifi password so I can call a ride. Little do I know that my go to transportation buddies Uber and Lyft are pretty much non existent in this part of town, so I'm in a pickle. One of the shop keepers Deidra is kind enough to offer me a ride back to my hotel and I'm truly touched by her kindness. She says "it's what we do for our people; when you're here, you're our people". I'm just on the verge of tears it's so beautiful how she says it. On less than a mile of a drive, she tells me about a little creek that runs behind the ranch that I should check out that has wonderfully cold water. Deidra then asks if I'm staying at the ranch because it's haunted. That's right. I said HAUNTED. For anyone that knows me, it goes without saying, I'm the world's biggest chicken disguised as a human girl. I later learn it was an insane asylum too from a different shop keeper in town, I clearly have very good taste. I thank Deidra profusely before getting out of the car. I quickly retreat to the comfort of my room after feeling thoroughly stupid. After about an hour and remembering I'm car-less, I end up walking down the road to find this creek. It's small and quiet and the water is so clear.
This ranch is a quiet property that just lets you be. It's Hispanic influences meets cowboy. I wander around the rooms of the rustic building and find a local paper and books that talk about the history of the town and the ranch, learning about it through the perspective of the locals. It's beautifully crafted. The lacquered wooden front door is over 150 years old alone with a sliding handle I haven't seen before. The receptionist tells me that that the whole building is original and there's a photo of what it looked liked in the year 1900. 124 years from that picture alone and not much had changed. It's incredible. I spend the rest of the day suddenly overjoyed about my decision not to rent a car and slow down in more ways than one.
A few days before arriving here, my original our of Yosemite got cancelled, so the next day, I set out with Discover Yosemite, a tour busy company that shows you around the park. I'm not usually partial for taking tours like this as I often find them, for lack of a better word, touristy, since I try to get off the beaten path.
The thing is, Yosemite is MASSIVE, like 750,000+ acres massive, so there's no good way to get off the beaten path, at least while going solo with no car. It ended up being a great experience though. Our guide Grant knew quite literally everything about the park. The history, any animal within a 20 mile distance, which trees and insects were native, everything. With references to the Ponderosa pine trees and Bonanza, there are trees taller than most buildings (which I know think this expression should be reversed), different shades of gray stone, rounded mountains and they're bigger than you can even imagine. Pictures are irrelevant here. You really need to get out and see things for yourself in life.
There's still snow on the ground and the sound of rushing water trickles through the park. The Mariposa Grove was closed where the giant sequoias are, so I was pretty bummed about that, but nothing a trip to Sequoia National Park can't fix at a later date. Though there are many, the most incredible part of this trip is our bus going through a tunnel the pioneers had carved by hand to get to what's now known as Yosemite Valley. Like a movie moment, we get closer to the exit of the tunnel, and all of a sudden it opens up to an entire sky of light and a valley below it, unlike anything I've ever seen. I couldn't describe the feeling in words if you asked me too, but catching one's breath doesn't seem like it's the right phrase to use here. It's like every sound on earth went quiet. The bus, the cars going by, all of it. The world just stopped for me. I got emotional at the Grand Canyon, but this was something else. I suddenly felt like a ten year old kid eager to get out of the car and run around, but also a 97 year old who just needed to sit down and think about how lucky I am that I get to see this before the end of my life.
We stop at most of the well known areas like El Capitan, Bridalveil Falls and others I can't even name cause I was too busy looking at them. There are steams running down the countless mountain sides and water falls pour, evaporating into thin air clean off the cliffs. The thunder of the falls creates a hush over the valley, and the water just falls gracefully like it trusts. It mists the paths covered with people, almost like you're being baptized by a higher being.
There's still snow on the ground in places as Spring is only starting here. We get time to walk around the park and experience for ourselves so I walk down who knows where towards the first waterfall I see. On the way, people play in the snow off to the sides of the paths with their kids and there's not a phone in sight. It makes me think that this is how it should be. Mountains as tall as the sky tower above and I find myself talking with a Romanian woman who's part of our group, vacationing with her family, Gri. She's so excited to be here and talks about how most people don't step foot outside their town when there's a whole world out there. I couldn't agree more. She also talks about regret. How her husband passed one year prior and has always wanted to have adventures like this. There are more and more signs every day that tell me to just make plans and go, so I'm grateful for it. Almost like someone planned where to put them, around the park you can see a few small California Redwoods and they're amazing, with crevices carved out in the wood that look like they were put there by the rivers of the mountains. Even the parking lot offers joy where I pass a 90's style van with a "Stevie Saves" bumper sticker. It was gold. When I say the weather was perfect during my time here, I mean literally, PERFECT. I've never seen such beautiful weather and a beautiful place all at one time.
There's a soft wind and the gentle warmth of the sun just makes you happy to be alive. I learn that this gray stone that I'm seeing everywhere is granite, and it sparkles in the shade or sun. It's every color of gray you've ever known, but it's anything but dull. It's pale, deep, bright and sincere all at once. There is every species of animal and human alive here. Eagles, tarantulas, mountain lions, bears, rainbow trout, pretty much everything except dinosaurs, which I wouldn't be surprised to find here. The people visiting are speaking in tongues I've never heard, Middle-Eastern, Asian, African, it's a melting pot of languages in this bowl that's Yosemite Valley. We drive through the park and we're mere feet away from the edge of cliffs and it's like very season that exists is here all at once. The mountains wave on like the ocean, completely covered in green. Burnt brown trees and ravens are here and one pays me some attention during lunch. He gets real up close and personal, plotting to steal the Lay's he's eying. I get to know the dirt in my shoes well and know we'll stay close for years to come.
The bus returns to the ranch and I don't know if I'm ready for more or a nap. I sit on the porch outside my room and just watch for a while after giving up on my book. There are geese flying overhead and there's every type of bird here. Things feel so much slower hearing the birds chirping. Who needs to read about flights when I'm soaring in this place. The way the sun looks on the mountains at dusk makes it look like the mountains ARE the sunset. The dark wooden deck feels like I'm back in New York on the verge of summer, but it's so much more quiet. I really feel like I understand what John Muir is talking about here. I enjoy the evening and look forward to another day here.
Did I talk about the staff enough at the ranch? Two receptionists Micky and Dana specifically. The following morning, Mickey is kind enough to drive me on her own accord to the Enterprise a few miles from the ranch so I can rent a car and actually see the town. Dana talks with me by the fire the previous night and we talk about love. Hospitality is an understatement here. There's a sincere kindness that has a special brand to it. I pick up my rental car the next morning thanks to Mickey and I'm off to make every second of today count. I head to Corileau falls, a small 1-ish mile hike down the road from where I'm staying and I can hear the water calling me as I get further in. It's a great stop and on my map coming back to the car, I see a stop for a Giant Sequoia tree not far, so I follow my GPS and somehow end up on a dirt road. To my stupidity, I attempt to drive through what didn't look like deep mud at the time and over a tree branch to where I get stuck. I had this car for not even two hours, and I've already made another great mistake. Luckily I have cell service and a kind officer comes out to help me, along with two gentleman happening by the road not long after. They're native to the area and clearly prepared and help me out of this bind thanks to a truck and some type of tire equipment, helping me avoid a $250 towing fee. I can't believe my luck and promise to both the men and myself that I'll never do something so stupid again. Thank God for good people.
Before I can get myself into any more trouble, I head back to the ranch to work out a SAFE plan for the rest of the day. Getting out of the car, I remember my hiking boots (which are waterproof luckily) are still covered in mud, so I take a moment, stare down at them, and get a photo to remember all of it. The panic, the kindness, all of it. I change clothes and venture back out to visit Mountain Oak Cafe in town where I have the most amazing bread bowl of clam chowder and visit some of the local shops. The day goes on and I visit my last stop: Mariposa. About 30 minutes from Oakhurst on a paved winding road, I drive through the sun with the windows down and Spotify at my side. Mariposa is another beautiful little town. I come to Sierra Cider where I take a tour of their cidery orchard and learn more about apples than I even knew existed. All the types of apples, especially ones just made for cider, how they're blended and reproduced is fascinating and I even meet a few animal friends including Rooster the border collie mix and Trudy the pig. Eventually I head back into Mariposa from the outskirts to hit my last stop, Chocolate Soup, an award winning local gift shop converted from a house. This huge two story house has each room filled with a theme of goodies including jewelry, kitchenware, candles and two separate buildings out back for adventuring and garden items. I chat with the shop keeper, another lovely soul and easily blow $50 here. It's time to head back even though I hate to go. Looking at the sunny roads while driving through mountains that are different than the ones I know, it makes me sad knowing I'll be gone in the morning, but I truly intend to be back real soon. I felt so at home in this place, knowing it's not only in the places we see, but the people that give us a reason to explore and feel we belong. I'll take that dirt in my shoes everywhere I go.
Yosemite & Oakhurst, you changed my life (and saved it a few times). Thank you so much.
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