Image by Vicky
Home Again, Home Again ...
December 2009
Please note that all content and imagery on this page is copyright © Paul J. Lorona, 2009 - 2010, unless otherwise noted.
Permission to use must be obtained in writing prior to use.
Images credited to Vicky were taken with her Canon DS950IS Elph camera.
Images not credited were taken by Paul with a Canon EOS 20D using the EF-S 18-55mm f3.5 - 5.6 zoom lens.
Images credited to Adam were taken with his Canon EOS 5D using the EF 28-135mm f3.5 - 5.6 IS zoom lens unless otherwise stated.
The background image was taken by Adam near Lower Yosemite Falls.
This trip started on an interesting note and footing. We left the Los Angeles basin later in the morning with the beast sniffing for the clean alpine air of the Sierra, and pointed ourselves north up Interstate Five to Highway Ninety Nine. Rolling up the flatlands of the Central Valley the beast consumed miles and oil as I sipped coffee and chatted with the crew, and after a bit we approached Visalia, California and KVIS, their municipal airport. And what did our wandering eyes behold there on the north ramp but some genuine competition for the crew of Intermountain Charter when we all saw not one but three "civilian" C-130s sitting out there in plain sight!
Image by Vicky
These old warhorses belong to TBM, Inc., an aerial tanker (read: airborne firefighting) outfit based down Highway Ninety Nine at Mefford Field in Tulare. The ship with the yellow stripe and no tail number is likely a C-130A serial number 57-0466, N466TM. Number 67 is likewise a C-130A, serial number 56-0531, N531BA. The patched up camouflage model is unknown to me, but rumor has it that TBM keeps it handy as a parts donor for their operational aircraft. TBM also owns one additional C-130A, a C-54, a DC-6, and three DC-7 aircraft. All are four-engined transports, all but the C-130s are piston powered.
Visalia and Tulare are former Army Air Force bases at which thousands of medium and heavy bomber and patrol aircraft pilots trained during World War Two. It is therefore fitting that modern day airborne fire suppression assets be based in the area.
My Fox snapped the above image from the window of the beast as we passed northbound. The mighty southern Sierra rises in the distance.
So we continued on our way to Yosemite via Highway 41 and Oakhurst, with the obligatory stop at Raleys for goodies. We also topped up the tanks on the beast and after a leisurely break we were back on the road headed north. As the beast pulls at all four corners when asked to, we were able to bypass the stop for chains above Wawona. The only real ice encountered on the roadway was up at Chinquapin and Yosemite West, at around 6000 feet the highest point on Highway 41, and we were through it in minutes and descending into the valley. We were settled for the duration before dusk and just relaxed on our first evening there.
Half Dome from the eastern (upstream) end of Leidig Meadow.
Did I mention the weather? There had been storm systems moving across northern California into the central Sierra, and snow was already in the valley upon our arrival. The skies were gray at sunrise and sunset, some days we had broken clouds at midday, others not. We had snow falling overnight and into the following morning mid-week, but the temperatures overnight hovered just at 32 degrees, and daytime highs climbed into the low forties, so all of the new snowfall and some of the existing snow had melted by the time we returned to soCal. Even so, it felt cold and gray most of the time we were there.
And the crowd! Never have I seen so many visitors in the valley in the winter. I mean, by summertime standards (when the visitor population in the valley can approach sixty thousand) the entire area was a ghost town, but there seemed to be many more than I remembered from past winters. Many were "drive by" visitors, arriving by bus in time for breakfast and departing after dinner, having toured the entire area from aboard a sixty-passenger bus and never really experiencing the valley at all. I felt sorry for them. At the other end of that spectrum were the hardy furs at Upper Pines Campground whose tents and RVS and vehicles were covered in snow! And yet they seemed to have the biggest smiles of anyone around them.
Still, it's a big place, with plenty of room for those who don't wish the massed companionship of their fellows. Those types just need to work a little bit to get themselves into those locations. And that was exactly what I had planned to do ...
The old dog and his youngest pup heading out to explore the valley. Image by Adam.
So my pups and I set off that first day and wandered about in Leidig Meadow for a bit, and then crossed the Merced River at Swinging Bridge. Strolling up South Side Drive we stopped by the old church, and then crossed Sentinel Bridge and headed into Yosemite Village and the deli there to meet The Fox.
But we were not alone, oh no.
"Shopping for lunch." Image by Adam.
You know me, I'm always on the lookout for some distant cousins, and my family did not disappoint. On our way through Leidig Meadow we encountered this little lady, who seemed totally unconcerned by our presence. She trotted by heading upstream as we paused in the Meadow on the banks of the Merced River. At her closest she was probably less than twenty feet away. She gave us a casual glance in passing and drifted out of sight a minute later amongst the fallen trunks and snow-covered brush upstream after pausing a couple of times to listen for field mice or squirrels hiding under the snow and brush. While obviously hunting a meal, she was very casual about the whole affair and didn't appear to be ravenously hungry. She looked healthy enough, all bulked-out in her winter coat.
Yosemite Falls from Swinging Bridge.
Normally in the winter there is virtually no water at all flowing in Yosemite Creek, so the image above is an indication that it was warmer in the high country than normal. Water flowed over the falls throughout the day and into the evening. Eventually the flow would trickle down to almost nothing overnight as temperatures dipped well below freezing in the high country, but enough continued to fall to keep a fine mist present on the face of the cliff. This mist would cling to the face of that cliff and freeze overnight to become sheets of ice, and then as the rock warmed up in the morning big chunks of this ice would let lose and fall hundreds of feet, crashing loudly into the rocks below. We could hear the booming reverberations of these ice falls all over the valley almost every day we were there.
The old dog and his prettiest pup, Curry Village. Image by Vicky.
That evening we wound up in Curry Village, our first of several visits, and discovered that "The Pizza Deck" dudes toss a pretty mean pepperoni and cheese pie, so we made an evening of it. Katie and Adam would return for a couple of hours of ice skating the next day, something both my Fox and I are smart enough (OK, old enough) to avoid. We watched them for a bit and then found a couple of drinks waiting for us at the Curry lodge. That was some quality time for all of us.
Late morning on the trail to Lower Yosemite Falls.
The next day, arguably the sunniest of the trip, we all walked over to Lower Yosemite Falls. From there The Fox and Katie headed back to the lodge to catch a shuttle over to the Village while Adam and I continued on our way along the Lower Yosemite Falls Trail, which carried us above and behind the Village to eventually dump us out on the north edge of the Ahwahnee Meadow.
There's a bit of vertical component to that trail, and this was the first time in a long time that I had a backpack on (with about 25 pounds of camera gear in it), so I got to huffing a bit on the uphill parts. I noticed with wry amusement that my nineteen year old son wasn't even breathing hard, even though he carried a similar backpack himself. Catching him grinning at me during a photo stop somewhere up at the base of the cliffs behind the Village, I commented to him "Don't laugh, son. This is what fat and fifty looks like. You may be in my boots some day."
Unfortunately, my little "kit lens" that I normally use with my 20D was giving me fits. There's something wrong with the aperture motor in the lens and my camera body randomly gives me error messages when I try to use it. It seems to be more likely to happen when the lens is cold, and also in bright light conditions (which figures, as the aperture motor would have to work harder in bright light). So many of the images I took with that lens came out sub-standard and aren't included here.
The ubiquitous Half Dome looking east across the Ahwahnee Meadow in the early winter afternoon.
The above picture may look vaguely familiar to some of you web surfers who check out webcams. The camera for the Yosemite Association's Ahwahnee Meadow netcam was a few yards behind me when I took this image.
Adam and I met our girls at Yosemite Village for a bite to eat, and then got back on the trail which took us across the east end of Ahwahnee Meadow towards Curry Village. It was cold out there, and along the way we crossed paths with a gentlefur and his two sons on snowshoes. Those guys looked equipped for the environment!
Looking west across the Ahwahnee Meadow towards Yosemite Falls a bit later in the same afternoon. Note the clouds building.
Evidence of SC's proximity: hat, gloves, sunglasses, and a walking stick at the Ahwahnee bridge. Image by Adam.
We met our ladies again at Curry and caught the shuttle back to the Ahwahnee for drinks and snacks. Later that night we played poker in the Mountain Room Bar. I was surprised to find how well my pups can play five card stud and draw poker, as well as Vegas-style blackjack. Wonder how they came by that knowledge ... ?
Adam deep in thought, Yosemite Lodge. Image by Vicky.
Yosemite Creek below Lower Yosemite Falls.
The next day Adam and I were again out and about, taking new paths to different vistas on the valley floor. We explored in detail that area in the vicinity of Yosemite Falls and between the Lower Falls and Yosemite Village. Adam was chasing a recreation of one of his best images, a "mood shot" of light and shadow in the trees taken in this very area. We found the exact spot, and he took quite a few images from various angles, but could never fully re-capture the effect of his original image from years ago. This prompted much discussion between us about technique versus luck in image composition, with the final agreement being that each of us had a bit of both working for us.
So we experimented and expended quite a bit of time in the old orchard area west of Yosemite Village. That's the beauty of digital photography, you can expose literally hundreds of images and view each one of them, and if they're not to your liking they're ... poof! Gone with the click of a mouse button. No expense involved, except for a little bit of your time.
The downside is that film and darkroom still allow one more versatility and creativity with the original image, but at considerable expense. I feel, and Adam certainly would agree, that digital technology is close enough to 35mm format film that the resultant image differences, from my perspective as an amateur photographer, are negligible. What do you think?
Yosemite Falls in dappled sunlight and mist.
Half Dome from the walkway near the Ansel Adams Gallery.
Ansel Adams is, of course, the master photographer who has inspired three generations of my family to pursue his excellence in the art. Both my parents (and many others in my parent's generation, to a lesser extent) have been avid photographers all my life, as I have been all the lives of my children. And now Adam is honing his skills at composition and image management in pursuit of that as a profession even as Katie and my Fox tote around their point-and-shoot cameras, the better to out-craft us. It's all great fun and very rewarding.
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My attempt at a "mood picture," looking west towards Columbia Rock southwest of Yosemite Falls, just past mid-day.
On approach for snackies and a rest. The old dog and his son near Yosemite Lodge after a day's walkabout. Image by Vicky.
We did a lot of walking, Adam and I. It was good for both of us, mostly me. I was able to exercise my mind and body, and work some frustration and stress out of my system. At the same time Adam and I had a wonderful time learning from each other and soaking up the beauty that was all around us. We didn't even mind the bad weather that took our light away and brought rain or snow to our travels. It was all part of the package, all good.
Another local. Taken from a second story balcony using an EF 100 - 400 mm f/4.5 - 5.6L IS zoom lens on a cloudy afternoon.
On the Merced River just west of "Camp Nine," the summertime housekeeping camp located about halfway between Sentinel Bridge and Camp Curry. View looks north using an EF 28 - 135 mm f/3.5 - 5.6 IS zoom lens.
On our last full day in the valley I went for a longer walk on my own. It was cold and overcast that day, and the rest of my crew decided they'd hang out at the lodge and meet me at Curry Village when I was done fooling around. I told myself I was going to get some great pictures, but the sky was as uncooperative as my "kit lens," and I got distracted by the natural beauty, and actually took very few. I did get nice and toasty on some uphill stretches though, and by the time I did roll in to Curry at 1530 I was down to a long sleeve tee-shirt with the sleeves pushed up in spite of the 35 degree temperature, the rest of my outerwear bundled and tied to my backpack.
Looking north-northeast at North Dome and Washington's Column from near Clark's Bridge in upper Yosemite Valley.
My route took me from Yosemite Lodge past the Lower Falls shuttle stop, then across the foot bridge to Sentinel Bridge. Past there I paralleled South Side Drive through Stoneman Meadow, passed between Lower and Upper Pines Campgrounds, and paused at North Pines. Then I took the loop up to Happy Isles and back down to Curry. It was about four miles according to the map, but seemed much longer because of all my little detours and pauses for photography (most of which were dismal failures).
The next day it was time for us to bundle up, assume our former personas, and bid the Valley farewell.
Adam training his lens up the Merced River near Bridal Veil Falls.
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A late, gray morning view of Bridal Veil Falls. Note the snowman to the right.
The beast waiting patiently for us. It behaved itself for the entire trip.
The brooding face of El Capitan on that same gray morning.
Looking upstream across lower Bridal Veil Meadow:
El Capitan on the left, Cathedral Rocks on the right with Bridal Veil Falls in the shadow.
The above image was the last one my 20D managed to convince my little 18 - 55 mm "kit lens" to take. Leveraging this, I have since purchased an EF 17 - 40 mm f/4L IS lens as a replacement. Hopefully the new lens will give superior results.
So I switched to the "standard" EF 28 - 135 mm f/3.5 - 5.6 IS zoom lens and was about to leave when a local spoke up and made his presence known.
A raven on a pile of snow at Bridal Veil Meadow. This fellow was at least as verbose as I am ...
I guess he was quite used to large-scale visitors, because I came within a pawful of feet of him and he seemed to not have a care in the world, other than what potential source of food I might be. I was almost sorry to disappoint him.
A very young buck heading up-sun somewhere on the valley floor. Image by Vicky.
We were back in soCal after a reasonably uneventful return trip. We hit the expected traffic early coming into Castaic (usually we don't get into the bad stuff until the I-5 / SR-134 interchange in Glendale), and spent the last two and a half hours of the trip staring at brake lights as we crawled across sixty five miles of some of the most congested freeways in the world.
Even so, the trip was a wonderful opportunity for the four of us to remind ourselves that the world is indeed a wonderful place, full of adventure and awe and the ever-renewed knowledge that God is indeed great.
Thanks for traveling with us!