Last week I returned from a trip that has seeped into my face and I can’t quite scratch it out (it’s allergy season). Though I’ve lived in the West my entire life I’d lever been to Yosemite, and it seemed like a good idea to ditch the recent rains of Portland for something epic and warm, but without having to climb on a plane.

First of all Yosemite is ridiculously beautiful. I keep telling people driving into the valley is like driving into the face of God. It is so beautiful that it’s kind of a problem. How do you interact with a piece of rock looming 4,000 ft over your head? How do you comprehend 2 of the world’s tallest waterfalls in a single valley?

To further our inquiry & take a stab at these questions my partner and I decided to climb Half Dome, easily the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my 29 years. Climb Half Dome if you hate your legs, and/or if you have a mild death wish, but would like to go out with a bang. If you escape the bears (we saw two), then the distance will crush you (18 miles), but if you are sturdy you will make it to the cables on the side of the dome (so you don’t fall, or slip, rather). The views afforded on the way up are quite clearly fake. Nothing should be that epic, water shouldn’t be that roaring, and John Muir deserves a sloppy wet kiss.

Before driving into the park I stopped over in my childhood playground in Napa and relished in the rain-free evenings and hospitality of extended family. The first order of business was to ditch the shoes. Barefoot, I watched the morning fog creep up the canyons before french-press and canned apricots from my Auntie’s orchard. We followed the fog after its decent into the valley for a tour of the Rubicon-Coppola winery & estate. Pinot-stained teeth. Impeccable service. Whispers of Nicholas Cage who had dropped in the day before. And the gift shop, dizzyingly covetable.

After an acceptable BAC was reached San Francisco welcomed me as I started to slip into vacation-mode. You know the drill here, but riding bikes across the Golden Gate Bridge was pretty much the coolest thing I’ve done in that city, ever. When you hop on a bike on that particular bridge, it feels like most of your body is riding above the rail line. You can see the green & white current swirls through the rail, Alcatraz in the distance, and imagine all those hungry Great White Sharks just waiting for a robust gust of wind to knock you off your padded seat. Cheap (or not, my rental was $45!) thrills folks, had by all. Sausalito or bust.

After a few days in Yosemite it was time to move on, but not before visiting Mariposa Grove near the south entrance of the park. Here live Giant Sequoias that are up to 1800 years old. They have names, too. Grizzly Giant, Faithful Couple, and Three Sisters, among other unnamed silent red behemoths. They dwarf everything. And I’m used to being dwarfed, but this was just unbelievable. There are photos around dusty museums of Teddy Roosevelt on horseback in the grove, and the forest was an eerie quiet like someone important had just died. Also, the mileage markers on the trails were blatantly wrong, and misleading! After climbing Half Dome the day before I was less than thrilled to limp along an extra mile or two due to poor signage. But the trees trumped any bitching I could muster.

The last leg of the parks tour (actually the proper name of the trip was Cinnamon Tour, South Leg) called for a visit to Crater Lake, but it’s much more appealing to say Critter Lake, especially when talking to strangers about it. My partner described the blue hue of the water as “you know, that color blue that makes you want to rip your face off.” If you’ve not seen it, go see it. Once again, the lake is so beautiful that it’s a problem. There was still snow on the rim so we were unable to hike down to the water & Wizard Island, so that will be a great excuse to return. It’s only 5-6 hours from Portland. Driving home we passed through this strange geologic feature called the pumice desert, a remnant of ancient volcanic activity in the region. It’s like suddenly the forest decided to concede & let pumice pebbles take over. And, abruptly as it came, it goes into the rear-view mirror, leaving one only curious and slightly confused. Pretty much my default state. Get yourself to our National Parks. It’s summer, go be a socialist & camp out!

Full set of trip images |  Pumice Desert | Cables on Half Dome (mildly dizzying)