Yosemite: Heading Home

(Continued from Yosemite: The Ahwahnee)

Featured Photo: “Twining Valley, Through a Yosemite Lens”  Near Philadelphia, Pennsylvania—2023

As we drove away from the Ahwahnee, I was feeling unexpectedly relieved. I said as much to my sister and she replied she felt the same, adding, “For that price, we should have gotten an unforgettable experience.” Even so, we had no regrets for having gone. And in a way, our experience at the Ahwahnee was indeed remarkable, without suffering the extravagant cost of the meal. It certainly made for a good story. And although we both considered it unlikely we would get back to Yosemite, we agreed it would be nice to eat in the grand dining room, if we ever did return.

We drove on in relative silence, traveling the Northside Drive of the loop through Yosemite Valley, with the majestic scenery washing over us one more time. Continuing onto El Portal Road, we soon came to the intersection with Big Oak Flat Road—the route we’d taken to begin our earlier adventures to Tuolumne Meadows and Hetch Hetchy. Stirred from the reverie, my mind turned in a different direction, recalling something I’d thought of only fleetingly since Thursday night, after our arrival.

When we made our plans for Yosemite, we could not have anticipated the dates overlapping with baseball’s fall classic: the major league playoffs were underway, and Philadelphia was still in the hunt. Although my sister does not share my passion for baseball, she does enjoy watching a good game now and again, and knew it meant a lot to me that my Phillies were contenders. Driving toward our hotel, I admitted to my sister the other reason I felt relieved about not eating at the Ahwahnee: had we stayed, I would have missed the first game of the National League Championship Series between the Phillies and the Arizona Diamondbacks.

My stomach growled, reminding me we had not yet eaten dinner. I asked my sister, “What sounds good to you?” Perhaps it was the talk of baseball and memories of ballpark food, but we had the same idea. “Pizza?” she suggested. “Perfect,” I replied. “We can finish up the drinks in the fridge to wash it down.” And that was our revised dinner plan; we traded the prospect of a fabulous feast at the fancy Ahwahnee for a chance to sit on our hotel room beds with a modest meal of pizza, beer, and sangria, watching baseball on a small TV. And I, for one, could not have been happier!

In fact, the thought of pizza was not as random as it might seem. Back at our hotel—the Yosemite View Lodge—in addition to the wonderful River View Restaurant where we’d eaten a delicious trout dinner, not just once, but twice, we had noticed the Parkside Pizza joint right next door. It looked inviting and seemed busy with customers. And that was our dinner destination.

We pulled into the small parking lot across from the restaurant and hustled inside. I knew the game had already started. After a quick look at the menu, we ordered the “House Special” to go: pepperoni, ham, salami, sausage, mushrooms, onions, garlic, and black olives, with a red sauce.

The pizza would take about 20 minutes, so we jumped back in the car and drove the 300 yards to our hotel room. I turned on the television and found the game, then relaxed a bit when I saw the Phillies—playing on our home field at Citizens Bank Park—with a comfortable lead: 4 to nothing in the 4th inning. Heading into commercial break, the network showed highlights of what I’d missed: a solo home run by Kyle Schwarber, our leadoff hitter, on Arizona’s very first pitch of the night, followed by another dinger from Bryce Harper, our mega-star, a couple batters later. I felt good as I raced out of the room to pick up our pizza (on foot), returning a bit out of breath from my dash.

With the game flickering on the TV screen, we tucked into our hotel room picnic: a mouthwatering pizza, cold beer, and refreshing sangria. The D-Backs got a few runs in the 6th and 7th innings, but the final score was good news for Phillies fans: 5 to 3. The next game would be played the next day, Tuesday, October 17—the day we had to head home.

That night, we slept for the last time listening to the soothing sound of the Merced River and woke early, microwaving two more breakfast sandwiches previously purchased from the hotel lobby store. We had a two-hour return drive to Fresno and wanted to get to the airport well before our flight time, to return the rental car, get through security, and be at the gate without cutting it too close. Better to sit and relax while awaiting the announcement to board the airplane, than rush with fear of missing the flight due to unexpected traffic delays. Besides, with a 1:51 afternoon flight, we thought we could grab a cup of coffee and enjoy lunch in Fresno before we left.

We checked out of the hotel and set the GPS directions to the Collect Coffee Bar, a small shop located near the Fresno State University campus—and not far from the Mad Duck Craft Brewing Company, where I had waited for my sister’s flight to arrive the prior Thursday. Hitting the road at 7:00 AM, we passed the drive time to Fresno reminiscing about the natural wonders we had seen during our fantastic four-day visit to Yosemite. Nearly getting lost on an involuntary detour—the consequence of construction work not shown on my Apple Maps—we arrived at the quaint coffee shop…

…and entered the welcoming interior space…

…requesting two lattes and studying the artistic coffee-cup chandelier while waiting for our order. We also took time to share some of our trip photos using the miraculous Apple Air Drop feature.

After savoring the steaming hot coffee, we climbed back into the car and drove 15 minutes to Sal’s Mexican Restaurant—my sister and I both love Mexican food. Sal’s had two things going for it: 1) it opened at 11:00 AM so we could grab an early lunch before our flight, and 2) it boasted a long tradition of good, authentic Mexican food dating back more than 80 years.

We were not disappointed. They gave us a table on their lovely, covered patio—a quiet nook set back from the walkways of the busy shopping center…

…where we ordered from the long list of traditional, south-of-the-border dishes. Unable to decide, I opted for a combination plate, letting me sample several different treats. Feeling more health-conscious and perhaps still full from last night’s pizza, my sister chose Eleanor’s Ensalada—lettuce, cilantro, tomatoes, salsa, sour cream, and guacamole, topped with shredded chicken. While we waited, we enjoyed our view of the small garden near our table…

…and when the food arrived, it was as we expected: flavorful and filling. After lunch, it was another 20 minutes to the airport—with the unfortunate code FAT—plus five minutes to drop off our car. A short walk to the terminal, a quick pass through security, and we were at our gate, ready to fly. We just had to wait for our plane to arrive from Dallas, to be unloaded, cleaned, restocked, and reloaded with fresh passengers for the return trip to its place of origin.

Unlike our flights into Fresno—when we made connections in different cities to continue the journey—for the return trip home, we were both on the same flight from FAT to DFW, where we would board a second flight to our separate destinations. We’d booked seats side-by-side from Fresno, and we continued talking about our trip. The flight to Dallas was three hours long; we lost two more hours crossing time zones. Our layover in Dallas was short and the time for our connecting flights was tight, so when we lifted off a bit late from Fresno, we knew we would have to separate earlier at DFW than expected, to reach our respective gates for the next flights. We lost even more time circling Dallas, as the pilot awaited clearance to land.

Once off the plane, my sister and I walked together for a few minutes to reach my gate, passing the Dallas Cowboys football team pro shop along the way; once upon a time I was a fan, before I moved to Philly and changed allegiance. (Fly, Eagles, Fly!)

At gate A22, we gave each other a really big hug, said how much we’d enjoyed being together on the trip, and my sister set out to find the DFW Skylink train that would transport her to a different terminal for her flight. And that was it. Even though we were sad our trip was over, we were still smiling because it happened at all.

My 3-hour flight to Philadelphia was scheduled to depart at 8:30 PM (Central Time), arriving after midnight (Eastern Time). But the plane I was to fly on was late getting into Dallas, delaying my flight by almost an hour. As fate would have it, my departure gate was situated next to the Dallas Cowboys Club, a football-themed Tex-Mex restaurant and bar…

…not that I was hungry, but they were showing the second game of the series between Philadelphia and Arizona on 24 of their 26 TVs! I monitored the status of my flight while watching the game through the restaurant’s window. When I boarded, I felt content with the Phillies up by a score of 2-0 in the 3rd inning. We sat for a long time, first at the gate and then on the tarmac, waiting to take off. By the time we were in the air, Philly was ahead 6-0.

Since the flight from DFW was comparatively long, and since I would get into Philadelphia rather late, I had splurged for the comfort of a First-Class ticket; the additional cost was not as much as I had imagined. When we were above 10,000 feet, the stewardess delivered nuts that had been warmed-up (a favorite treat from my days of business travel) and offered a beer (I opted for the Goose Island IPA from the venerable brewery in Chicago).

Later, we were served a nice dinner: shrimp cocktail appetizer, roast beef with pimiento mac-and-cheese, salad, and a sourdough roll, complemented by a glass of red wine, and raspberry sorbet for dessert.

After eating, I read from the John Muir book of meditations, which my sister and I had each purchased at Yosemite; his words were inspiring and reminded me of our wonderful trip, just completed. I closed my eyes and may have fallen asleep for a while but was not well rested when we touched down in Philadelphia, close to 2:00 in the morning.

During the flight, I had tried to follow the baseball game but couldn’t connect to in-flight entertainment and felt disinclined to spring for on-board Wi-Fi. It wasn’t until we landed that I learned the Phillies had humiliated the Diamondbacks 10-0. After the game had ended, I’d received another text from my college friend and baseball buddy, saying the Phillies would travel to Arizona to play the next game in a commanding position, leading the best-of-seven-game series two to none. He asked, “Couldn’t you have let them score at least one run?” I replied, “Not sure it was up to us for them score…they have to EARN it! The Phils are playing like a team on a mission: to win the World Series!”

It was a 45-minute drive home from the airport; I was sleepy, but there was no traffic. I got to bed after 3:00 AM and slept until 9:00, which is late for me. But on California time, it was just 6:00, a similar wake-up schedule as on the trip. After breakfast, I took my usual morning walk in our neighborhood park. Even though the scenery was not on the same monumental scale as Yosemite, when I hiked along the paved trail, my heightened appreciation of nature seemed to have carried over. Captured in today’s Featured Photo, I saw the trees, fields, sky, and clouds with a new perspective, with deeper awareness than before of their beauty and dignity. I observed more birds in flight and listened to their symphony of songs. I delighted in the “wildflowers”—purple and pink, with a splash of white and golden-yellow—which had been planted by the sages of our Parks and Rec department.

Later, along the sidewalks in our neighborhood, I saw the brilliant red leaves of a maple tree, under a ceiling of gray-white clouds in a blue sky. Everything was beautiful.

Sometimes, one must travel afar to be reminded of nature’s grand, yet simple splendor that can be found in one’s own backyard.

(Almost finished…)