Yosemite: And I Must Go

(Continued from Yosemite: The Mountains Are Calling)

Featured Photo: “California Landscape, Aerial View” Near Tehachapi, California—2023

As the airplane took off, I watched from my window seat—ascending higher and higher, on the way to our cruising altitude—and noticed a sports arena in downtown Phoenix. I wondered if that was where the Cardinals now played football. (I later learned the Cardinals’ stadium is outside Phoenix, in Glendale, Arizona.) I didn’t know at the time I was looking at Chase Field, home stadium of the Arizona Diamondbacks baseball team—the retractable roof was closed, hiding the baseball diamond below. Arizona had played ball at Chase Field the night before, winning their own post-season series, with a three-game sweep of the Los Angeles Dodgers. My Phillies would play the D-Backs in Phoenix for the National League Championship one week later—after we took care of the Braves that evening.

Leaving Arizona en route to California, we flew over a terrain of deserts and mountains—a landscape so unlike the Mid-Atlantic, where my home near Philadelphia is located. At times, I felt I could be gazing at another planet, the view was so foreign. When we got together later that day, my sister also remarked how different the scenery seemed during her connecting flight from DFW to FAT.

Along the way, I took a couple of photos from 30,000 feet. I didn’t realize until later, when writing this post—as I looked at pictures from the trip, with all the GPS metadata included in my iPhone images—that one of the photographs (today’s Featured Photo) was taken somewhere over Stallion Springs, California, with a view toward Bear Mountain, both of which are only a half-hour drive from the community of Tehachapi, where my nephew and his family live. Small world, indeed!

As we got closer to Fresno, I saw a wide-ranging topography in a single view out my window, with rivers and lakes and tall mountains, some scorched and brown, others—in the far distance—with white snow caps at their peaks.

Later, I glimpsed how civilization had planted itself right down in the midst of the natural world, bringing buildings, roads, grass, and fields of green crops to the dry brown land, nestled at the foot of the mountains that rose above the valley floor—all to accommodate the needs and wants of humanity.

I landed in Fresno and walked from the gate through the comfortably small terminal, past “Sequoia-scape”, the airport’s public art display, featuring a life-size depiction of the Sequoia forest…

…on my way to retrieve my suitcase in baggage claim. As I walked out of the airport, rolling my luggage toward the rental car lot, I pulled out my iPhone and checked my sister’s flight status. Her plane had been delayed leaving DFW and would not arrive for a while.

I quickly Googled, “Breweries Near Me”—as I often do when I travel to a new place—and was happy to find the Mad Duck Craft Brewing Company only 15 minutes from the airport. I set the destination on my Apple Maps and headed out in my rental car. I got to see a bit of Fresno as I drove on McKinley Avenue to the Sierra Freeway, and found the brewery in a small shopping center, conveniently located near the campus of Fresno State University.

I sat at the bar and waited, what seemed a long while, before the bartender noticed me. That gave me time to check-out the draft beers offered, from the list that had been carefully hand-written on their chalkboard. When I finally got the chance, I ordered a pint of MoHAZEic, a hazy, New England IPA—one of my favorite beer styles.

My MoHAZEic was every bit as good as I hoped, with a refreshing taste of citrus and tropical fruit; when I told the bartender as much, she replied it was one of their most popular beers—confirming my wise choice. As I savored my beer, I pulled out my iPhone and checked text messages. There were a couple of texts from my other siblings, wishing my sister and me safe travels and hoping we would have fun on our trip. My brother sent a selfie sitting on-board an airplane; he and his wife were taking a well-deserved trip of their own to Montreal, Canada.

There was also a text from another college friend—one of four of us—who had, in one form or another been roommates and/or suitemates during our Sophomore, Junior, and Senior years at Trinity University in Texas. We stayed in touch since graduating and became even more closely connected at our last college reunion—our 40th. The texts expressed concern for one who had been going through some tough times recently; I sent my own message of support and encouragement and let them know I was traveling to Yosemite.

Another of the suitemates, who now lives in Burbank, California, sent a reply, asking me to say “hello” to Yosemite’s iconic El Capitan and Half Dome, and requesting pictures, of course. Due to the lousy internet and cell coverage during the trip, it was only after I returned home, and let them know I was back, that I sent the requested photos. It was another of the Four Musketeers—as we sometimes called ourselves—who had texted this time, with a friendly challenge, and I responded by sending a few of my best pictures from Yosemite.

But sitting at the bar, I was also monitoring the progress of my sister’s flight on the airline app; when I saw she was about half-an-hour from Fresno, I settled my bill and drove back to FAT. Outside baggage claim, I hugged my sister, hoisted her heavy suitcase into the trunk of the rental car, and we spent the next two hours catching up on our families, health, and other news, as we drove to the hotel. We also talked excitedly about what fun we were going to have on our vacation.

Which brings us back to the two of us, standing on our balcony, on a bright, warm day in El Portal, California, with temperatures in the mid-70s, marveling at our wonderful view of the Merced River. When we finally came back inside, we noticed our hotel room felt uncomfortably warm…strike one. Then we saw the screen door had fallen off its tracks when we closed it…strike two. When we opened the mini fridge to make sure we could use it to store food during our stay, we found it was not cold at all, and there were puddles of water on each shelf, from the defrosted ice compartment…strike three!

After a few minutes of fiddling with the air conditioner, we gave up and called the front desk from our room telephone—recall there was no cell service. We weren’t sure whether we’d be able to stay in this room or if we were “out”, forced to move to another. Then we waited for someone from hotel maintenance to come to our aid.

(To be continued…)