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Mark
| | Posted on Monday, December 10, 2001 - 09:18 pm: | |
I thought I'd expand the topics on the site a bit. So, here is a new category for recalling old camping memories or new ones.
Does anyone have any to contribute? |
Dot
| | Posted on Monday, December 10, 2001 - 11:10 pm: | |
LESSONS LEARNED--
Hi Mark,
You certainly hit the right category for me! Now, all I have left are camping memories and so many wonderful ones.
In our early days of camping with 3 small children,often we would take my mother along as she had no other way of getting to Yosemite.
We had picked a lovely spot near the entrance at old camp 14 and back in those ancient days there was grass around our site.
Everyone piled out of the station wagon and my husband and I started setting up camp while grandma watched the kids. We had just started setting up the tent when a huge thunderstorm hit and without warning the Heavens opened up. My mother and the kids jumped in the car and my husband and myself dived into the still flat tent.
In those days it was not a simple job to erect a tent.
It seemed as if it rained 40 days and nights. Finally it passed and we then erected the tent. As soon as that was done, the first thing my husband did was to dig trenches around the tent and he explained to the kids why he was donig that.The rest of the trip was lovely and no more rain--however that was enough to stop my mother from camping with us again. You sometimes think your kids never hear what you say---but that day a lesson was learned.
Not long ago, my son and I were wandering through a campground in Yosemite--just enjoying looking at campsites and out of the blue (some 40 years later) he said to me that he never forgot the lesson he learned from his dad that day and that whenever he saw those drainage trenches he always thought of his dad who died almost 2 years ago. A good memory and a lesson learned.I'm sure my husband would have loved that story. |
Mark
| | Posted on Tuesday, December 11, 2001 - 11:10 am: | |
Dot,
Thanks for sharing that. Your memories call to mind one of our camping trips in the park back about 1962. It was also a time when we camped in the rain. Our friends from church, who had never camped before, wanted to join us, because they’d always heard us talk about our wonderful adventures while camping. So, they followed us to Yosemite a couple hours after we’d arrived to set up a camp of their own, near ours. This was back when reservations weren't mandatory. As my mother recalled, we could always call and get a site over the phone, but people did just show up most of the time and there wouldn’t be a problem finding a site.
So, we arrived and set up our site, a couple of hours before our friends showed up. We had a big old ’55 Ford station wagon with a roof rack that was packed to the sky. I think we brought our whole house camping with us in those days. We had the biggest tent you can imagine, with two side rooms. At the entrance was a big old hook rug on a tarp to keep it up off of the dirt, where our mom made us remove our shoes. Overhead was a tarp, which was a part of the tent, which acted like an umbrella with its own poles and stakes. And yes, inside was another big old oval shaped hook rug that we’d roll out in the center of the tent. All around the inside of the tent were folding cots. The side rooms were separated with hanging bedspreads for privacy. It was like something out of the Arabian Knights. We prided ourselves in having one of the best set-up sites whenever we camped.
Our campsite was complete with more than enough camping chairs, table clothes, firewood all stacked up, you name it, nothing was left at home. Of course, now days we are a little more compact than back then, but there’s a lot to be said for having all the comforts of home when you have kids and are there for two weeks at a time. Our Mom, though she called herself the “Chief Cook and Bottle Washer”, did not do the dishes. That was the responsibility of my brother and I. She would just oversee us. But, she knew how to keep things organized, and cooked the best meals that anyone could imagine in a dirt camp.
As our friends pulled in, maybe two hours after we had arrived, they were totally unprepared, as they had never camped before in their lives and had no idea what they should have brought along with them. The first thing that became a problem was that their tent was lacking the center pole, and all they had in their car was four (4) sleeping brand new bags. They had anticipated that they could sleep under the stars and we'd take care of them. I like sleeping under the stars too, but it’s nice to have plan number two when the rain clouds show up. Maybe they had a few pots and pans, I need to give them a little more credit. We were happy that they came along, and wanted to help them all we could because, not only were they good friends but we also wanted them to experience Yosemite as we always had. And, so our camp was their camp. Then it rained...
None of us really gave much thought to what we were going to do about their missing tent pole until it became clear that a solution needed to develop immediately…
We had heard that the park had a place over at Housekeeping where campers could rent camping items, so we all headed over there. Sure enough, there was a tent that looked like it was a relic from World War One for rent. They rented it and four (4) cots. At the time we couldn’t tell that the tent had no floor. It was all rolled up, and looked like a normal tent. The thought that the tent might not have a floor in it, never even came to mind. We’d never seen a tent without a floor before.
The rented cots worked out well to keep them up above the muddy floor, but for some reason as I recall there was one that didn’t want to work. We wrestled with it in the mud for a half hour before we had to take it back and trade it in for one that did work.
Their tent was heavy green army type canvas; about eight feet tall with one wooden pole right in the middle, no floor, and was not waterproof. The sides were held down with big wooden stakes that wanted to split if you hit them too hard, and their floor was nothing but mud. By the time that we got that tent up and the cots set up, it had been raining for at least two (2) or three (3) hours. Like in your case, Dot, the rain poured down like the days of Noah. My older brother took our little Army surplus shovel and dug a nice little rain trench all around their tent, as he had done to ours prior to the rain. Finally the rain stopped coming into their tent.
But, by that time the damage was done. Because they were all huddled under the tent while my brother and I erected it, they stomped that wet dirt into a serious mud hole. So there they were, out of the rain but in the center of a mud pit, with water dripping through the tent’s porous sides….what a scene…
Our little four-inch deep rain trench kept our tent nice and dry, of course. When it started raining, none of it went under our tent. Our tent, of course not only had a tarp under it and a rug inside, but it was so big that it seemed totally impervious to the weather conditions outside. On the other hand, these friends of ours sat inside of their muddy wet, dripping tent, with that muddy floor all wrapped in their sleeping bags, sitting miserably on their cots with their tennis shoes soaking wet and muddy. As I recall they had a door that wouldn't strap shut and flapped in the wind all day and all night. It was a miserable picture. We felt so sorry for them. We even invited them all to crowd into our tent to stay dry, but they refused. They didn’t want to impose…
They were wet, cold and their feet were muddy and we couldn’t do anything about it. Every once in a while we would send sorties over to them all day and into the evening hoping to bring them a little comfort and praying that for their sake the rain would subside. We brought them hot chocolate and whatever we could to make their lives better. It didn't help. They didn't sleep all night. The next morning they left for home. My brother and I took their tent down and return it to Housekeeping.
While my brother and returned from Housekeeping on foot after returning their rented gear, the sun came out. And, if any of you know how beautiful the valley is after a good rainfall, the morning after, when the sun comes out, you'll know what I'm talking about. That morning is still very memorable to me ever some forty years later. I remember it as being just like some of those Ansel Adams photos, with puffy clouds hanging half way up the cliffs and waterfalls in places that didn’t have waterfalls the day before.
We wished that these friends of our could have just stuck it out for a few more hours, as the park dried up, and they would have had a wonderful time once they dried up. It's funny how a little preparedness can ensure a nice vacation. The sun stayed out for the duration of our camping trip, which was at least a week, maybe two. We had a great time. They weren’t the only ones that left. As I recall lots of people left and we had the whole park to ourselves for a while.
Thanks Dot, for reminding me of that trip. We talk about that time every once in a while. I think these friends of ours never did camp again. That was enough for them. Ha. That is only one of many rainy camping trips that come to mind, but it was one that you reminded me of when you mentioned the little rain trench your husband made around your ten in Camp 14. Our friend’s memories of that time would probably be “never underestimate the value of a good night’s sleep”. Heh heh.
Thanks for sharing that with us, Dot. If you think of any more, or if anyone else does, keep them coming. Camping memories are always the best of memories.
Mark |
Kas
| | Posted on Tuesday, December 11, 2001 - 07:42 pm: | |
My memory is complete with a trench dug around a tent also. It was in early July 1995. (The month and year I am positive about, thanks to our vacation journal.) We had a long drive from Florida but we always manage to get to Yosemite in record time. This time we had a site in Lower Pines on the last loop, close to the river. We set up our tent and our new outdoor cabana tent. We could sit on lounge chairs, sip our drinks or worse yet, eat a pint of ice cream. While we were setting things up we were trying to figure out why someone a few sites down was digging a trench around his tent. As we looked more closely, we could see that the ground had been awfully clean, no pine needles, branches or twigs. We had a busy day giving ourselves a good welcome back to Yosemite. Barbequed chicken for dinner with a little to much wine. I'm sorry, an opened bottle of wine is supposed to be consumed. It's just that Rog and "H" picked up the bottle and asked who drank all the wine. Well dang, it was just the three of us and if they didn't drink it, it was a pretty sure bet that I did. "H" had been by the river and commented that the water was coming up further on the bank. She marked the waters edge with a stick and came to get us. We went down and sure enough, her stick was partly under water. We got our ice cream and sat in our lounge chairs just eating and enjoying the night. In just a matter of 15 minutes, Rog could see the water inching its way toward our campsite. We jumped up and started to dismantle the cabana tent. We stacked it on the picnic table and decided that we should move our sleeping tent further up toward the road. We found a high spot and plunked it down. We have a free-standing Eureka backpackers tent that is very easy to move. Just pick it up and go. Other people were picking up everything and leaving. We decided to stay. Rog and "H" went to sleep and I took my post. Looking out though the screen doorway and watching to see if the water started to come closer. I don't know how long I actually stayed awake watching, but I was exhausted. At sunrise we were out of the tent and surveying the damage. The water had come within feet of our tent. The bear box was sitting in one foot of water. A walk to the restrooms was through shin deep water, cold water! Now we knew why the guy a few sites down was trenching his site. We loaded up and headed to our next site. In short order,everything was back to normal, until darkness fell again. The days were very warm and it melted the snow in the high country. As the day wore on, the water had no where to go but down into the valley. The whole thing was very surreal. But the memory of that one night is tucked deep in our memory banks and documented in our journal.
I do not know if I was supposed to learn something from that experience but I think I did. Do not ever drink more than your share of a bottle of wine because you never know if you will have to move you tent in a hurry and then be the designated "guard" to watch for rising water! |
Mark
| | Posted on Tuesday, December 11, 2001 - 09:56 pm: | |
Ha. Good lesson to learn, Kas. The water getting higher at night is something that I've seen too. The top of Waterwheel falls was where this also happened to us. I woke up about three a.m. and the water was within two feet of us, when it was a good ten feet away before we went to sleep. When the water comes up, the current increases too, and it was really moving. All our pots and pans were floating around, within what may have been seconds of going down stream. We were lucky they weren’t already gone.
I remember that it was a full moon, which made it easy to see, fortunately. I jumped up, and gathered all our things and dragged the sleeping bags further up the hill. It was eerie to see that. The effects of the snow melting all day during the heat, and then taking all day and half the night to get down to where we were was pretty interesting physics lesson. By the next morning the water was back down to where it was.
Thanks for sharing that with us. Kind of spooky, thinking that you might get carried away... |
Mark
| | Posted on Thursday, December 27, 2001 - 04:46 pm: | |
As for favorite memory, camping or otherwise, in Yosemite how about the memory of sitting around a very small Tuolumne campfire, with (the late) Carl Sharsmith telling about the Yosemite Indians, with my little children's eyes wide open with wonder?
I recall this one campfire, where Carl spoke of a time when, in his younger years he had been hiking in a remote part of the park, off trail, many years prior. After having hiked up a steep incline he found a need for a little rest at the top of a hill. He sat down on a large relatively flat rock where he could get both a little shade and at the same time a beautiful view of a remote valley below him.
There he sat and drank from his water bottle, and when he went to set it down he spotted a perfectly created black obsidian arrowhead setting on the rock next to him, glistening in the sun. It was as if someone had set it there only a day before.
He picked it up, and thought how one day, perhaps many hundreds of years prior an Indian out on a hunt had also sat there on that very same rock, contemplating the view, perhaps just as he was doing. Perhaps it fell out of his pouch, or for some other reason he accidentally left it behind. At any rate, here it was at least a hundred, perhaps three hundred years later, still in the same place. Perhaps the same thoughts went through each of their minds, as to what a wonderful view was before them.
He thought for a moment about how that arrowhead was a part of Yosemite's past, before history would be written about the original people there. He laid it down and thought that perhaps the next person that found it, maybe another three hundred years later would just put it into their pocket, and how it would some day end up in a dresser drawer somewhere. It might eventually get swept up and tossed in the trash, and how this location was the best place for it.
Or, perhaps the next discoverer of that arrowhead might find it, give thought to the historic nature of how that arrowhead got there in the first place, and lay it down just as he did.
It's kind of neat knowing that Carl's arrowhead is probably still sitting up there somewhere. And, if I find it, I'll leave it there, after I've held it for a few minutes first.
He probably made it all up, but I took it all in just as my little children did that night. Yosemite's history is all well documented, it's just a little encrypted and hard to see for some of us.
I know that's kind of a corny story, but I thought I'd tell it anyway. |
Dot
| | Posted on Thursday, December 27, 2001 - 07:53 pm: | |
Your campfire story brought back a memory that was quite nice.
Often, through the years instead of a campfire, sometimes we would go up to Glacier Point and watch all the preparationss for the firefall. That meant that sometimes a Ranger would speak before darkness descended.Many times I would not bother to listen:instead just watching the beautiful sunsets.
Well, one evening my husband was rather insistent that the entire family listen to "The Ranger Talk". For once--even I obeyed!!
He was an older gentleman who was very interesting and had everyone's attention. That night there was an unuasually beautiful sunset and we were all spellbound.
He then said something I have never forgotten. On the surface, It doesn't quite seem to fit--but he said in all of the sunsets he had seen from Glacier point in his lifetime, there was finally a way he had come up with to tell how intensely beautiful they were.
He said the only way to describe one of those sunsets was to equate it to a man who loved a woman and was unable to hold her because he had no arms!!
A very unuasual statement--but yet,very powerful. |
Mark
| | Posted on Friday, December 28, 2001 - 11:08 am: | |
Hi Dot,
That's a great story. Thanks for sharing it. I've been at the top of Glacier a few times at sunset, and have to say, it's the best.
We never went up for sunset when the rangers prepared the firefall. In those days we were always in the campgrounds waiting to see it fall. Sorry I missed that part.
That ranger's way of expressing his feelings about the park were good. Thanks again for sharing. |
Curious2
| | Posted on Saturday, December 29, 2001 - 11:54 am: | |
My memories of camping in Yosemite are a special part of my life. I remember sleeping in the old WWII surplus dog trailer (sort of a tear drop shaped thing) with my sister. I remember climbing on the large boulder in our favorite campsite. We would take our toys up on the boulder, and we had our own play area. The boulder had a split, which was stuffed with pine needles, dirt, and probably a few abandoned toys and food wrappers. We were on top of the world on that boulder.
Many years later, when I visited the valley and rode the shuttle to Happy Isles, I passed the boulder. It is much smaller now. Or so it would seem. The split has sucumbed to gravity and ice, and the smaller piece was laying on the ground. It was so special seeing that rock -- my rock.
We always tried to camp in that spot, becuase it was close enough to the old trash dump. Bears would cross the campgrounds to fight over the garbage. I remember hearing a bear sniffing around our dog trailer one night. We propped the lid up at night, just enough to let air in. The vents on the side had been covered to keep things dry. It was neat but scarey. The next day, there was brown hair on a tree next to the trailer.
We would spend part of the day watching the bears. I remember a particularly rough looking bear - cinnamon colored -- that my dad said was a Grizzly. It couldn't have been, but we believed him. That bear would run most of the other bears off and take over the trash dump.
For several years, we stopped going to Yosemite, and went up to Northern Cal where my dad found good fishing on the rivers near the coast.
About 40 years ago, after my sister got married, we made a quick trip back to Yosemite -- on a whim.
Since we had moved to trailer camping, the old umbrella tents had been stored for several years. We left the trailer at home and took an old tent on this trip.
Periodically, my dad would clean the garage and throw some of the old junk out. We got up to Yosemite right before dark, and set out to put up the tent. The tent stakes had not made the trip with us. Dad had thrown out the leaky tall tent along with the shorter tents poles during one of his cleaning sprees. We were trying to set up the tent, and could not get it up before dark. We had been warned that there had been many bears in the campgrounds that time, so mom and I slept in the car -- with the food. Bears were not breaking into cars then, that I recall. It would have been early September, and the rush to eat a lot, that Justa has mentioned, would have been on the minds of the bears.
The next day, my dad used the hammer and a rock to break off enough of the pole to set up the tent. No ax or saw, since you could not cut downed wood in the park! We found stakes at the store.
Yosemite had changed. I didn't have a sister to play with. The rock was nowhere near our site. Things were a little more worn down and dirty than I remembered from earlier years.
It was close to 25 years before I returned to Yosemite, after that trip. I took my children, and we stayed in a tent cabin. Boy had the valley changed during that time.
The redwood slice in front of the museum was almost bare of bark (well it is actually fur not bark) from being rubbed. The Indian dances and demopnstrations had moved indoors. There were more impromptu trails everywhere that there were blades of grass. The throngs of people who were visiting Yosemite were wearing away some of the glitter that made it such a special place in my youth. Even so, it became a special place for my children.
We have made several more trips to the valley over the years -- taking our Japanese exchange students to this place of beauty. They had seen the Grand Canyon, but were more impressed with Yosemite. At it's worn down, crowded worst (for me), it has left a special mark on souls of my children and their friends.
My sister has a summer house in a community near Yosemite. We have made a few visits back to our rock together -- from the shuttle anyway.
We enjoy going through the old photos of our camping trips to Yosemite. We laugh at the days we used to play in the Merced -- or bath of the day. Brrrr, that water was cold. We remember walking to the meadow to watch the fire falls. We recall sitting around the ranger's campfire to listen to talks about the Indians, the birds, and the flowers of the region. We remember sitting in the tent, playing games, while it rained outside. We remember eating bacon, and marshmallows cooked over an open fire. Camping was great. Camping in Yosemite was better than great. |
Dot
| | Posted on Saturday, December 29, 2001 - 11:50 pm: | |
Your camping memories were so interesting and descriptive of just how much fun it was to camp in the Valley. We took the kids to Yosemite every year---but NEVER camped by the rock as it was too close to the bears for us. I think that is interesting as your family loved camping there and we were afraid to camp so close to the trash dump. However, at dusk we would go and watch them from a distance. How well I remember the bears roaming the campgrounds at night and one by one we would hear them dump the trash cans--it was a nightly ritual.You are so right --sometimes we would hold our breaths as we could hear the bears rooting around outside of our tent.As you said--it was scary ,but a part of camping. No bear safe places to put our food--we just locked the Coleman cooler in the car along with the groceries. I don't kmow why the bears didn't break in.
Yes, how well I remember your rock as if it is the one I am thinking of--it is the biggest and stands alone. How many times I have looked at that rock through the years--I am glad it is "yours"--everytime I see it I will think of your memory. I passed it several times this year on my way to Happy Isles from Curry.
Thanks for the memory shared. |
Mark
| | Posted on Sunday, December 30, 2001 - 10:46 am: | |
Curious and Dot;
Those are great posts. I have to say that it’s almost ironic how some of your memories mirror some of mine as well. Not recalling “your rock”, as we always camped in Camp 14 in those days, but I do remember a "rock" which sticks out as one that I remember very well, over at the entrance of Housekeeping. It was SO big, when I was seven. I recall my brother, who was two-years older, beckoning me from the top. That rock was square-ish and no easy way up. It looked like El Capitan, but on a somewhat smaller scale. The top was easily two feet over my head, and was clearly THE place I wanted to get to. I recall walking around and around, until my brother pointed out what looked like the only possible route up. I worked and worked at it, and at the very end, he grabbed onto one of my hands and pulled, and all of a sudden I was at the top!!
We gloried in being kings of our mountain. We walked around on the top, and I recall another kid looking in wonder, trying to figure out how we ever got way up there. What a view it was from the top! I think I could see a mile from there.
Then our parents arrived and my brother scampered down, and there I was with no way down, and there was no way for him to help me. I crawled around on my hands and knees, looking down from all angles. All potential descent routes were just a little too steep, and that rock was far too high. And, the way I got up didn’t look like a good way down. I was getting stressed out. As our parents approached, I was so relieved to see them. The part that I didn't appreciate was how Dad seemed to see humor in the situation. Hey, I was helplessly stranded up there! About that time another kid my size climbed up, and then climbed down without any trouble. At that my dad was really laughing. I was now getting very incredulous. He helped me down. I probably didn't talk much for a while after that. Ha. I remember wishing (so much) that I could have gotten down on my own. I went from King of the Mountain, to far less in only one minute. From conqueror to conquered, with very little time in between.
I later conquered that rock many times, as I grew. It later became insignificant, as other rock objects challenged us. In my teens, and early twenties climbing those Yosemite boulders became more and more fun, and the challenges became far greater. However, I don’t ever recall finding any more rocks that I couldn’t climb down from. It’s a good thing. It would have been embarrassing to be a twenty year old, and have to be rescued from a boulder only twenty feet tall. At that point, they had come up with a name for it. It was called “Bouldering”, and every approach to a rock had new challenges. “Problems”, as I recall calling them. Problems that had to be solved. My first rock climbing shoes, if any of you remember were called “PA’s”. They were red and black, and looked like high top tennis shoes, only tighter. They were great for catching little fingernail sized cracks or ledges that normal shoes or boots couldn’t grip. I did, in fact relive that feeling of exuberation and glory at climbing to the top of large rocks, much larger than the Housekeeping rock. Solving a problem, and getting to the top of a route that many found hard, or impossible was great fun. I think it still would be if I were to ever get around to doing it.
A few years back I had missed that fun so much, as I hadn’t done any of that in many years, that as my kids got older, late teens, I got them interested. We got gear, we went out several times, but so far only my oldest son has taken it a step further. He has a friend whose father is a very accomplished climber, who has climbed El Cap several times, not to mention many other famous climbs around the world. Someone told me he was one of California’s top three climbers. I don’t know about that, but little does my son know that it all started around 1957 at Housekeeping. “Our rock” is still there as a standing monument. My brother has asked me several times if I remember “The big rock”. He has since taken his kids there, at the appropriate age to get them to climb it. The tradition lives on. It wasn’t until much later, that I learned that my dad had the almost exact same experience at the same age when he was young. Learning that, I could then appreciate his humor that day, many years ago. Knowing that my grandfather was also involved in the tradition, probably back in about 1927, gives it depth to me.
Rocks can be so fun for a kid. Sometimes the rock would be boat, and we'd be on the watch for pirates, or, in any case a place of refuge in some way. For that reason, I think it so important for these young parents these days to bring their kids camping. Let them explore nature, and feel connected to it, at that impressionable age.
Curious2, I remember those little trailers. I didn't know they were Army surplus, but always thought they looked like fun. Small, but fun, especially from the size of a small child. And, the bears at the dump were also a place that we went many times. I remember a bear just as you described. I didn’t remember the name, but the description that you gave was about right. I thought I recall our bear’s name as “Old Snaggle-Puss”, or something like that, as his mouth had been cut by glass and some of his teeth were missing. I do recall it chasing other bears off. Seeing that from the eyes of a child, only fifty feet away or so, was scary. Like Dot, we would have never camped over there. That was always called the bear campground. My mother, last summer, who joined us in our campsite, from their room at the Lodge, was a little surprised that we were camping up there, in what is now Upper Pines, because, as she said, all the bears lived up in this area. I told her it wasn’t as bad these days, as they don’t have the open dump anymore. She was relieved. Ha.
Like you, I have passed by that rock many times now, over the years. It is not at all a large rock. At best, it's probably only about five feet tall. Ha. The whole Valley is so much smaller now than it was then. For that reason, whenever I take any walks, I try to crisscross in different directions as much as possible, but there are only so many routes. For that reason, I like the four-seasons, more specifically, the twelve months of the year, as they give us new views each time we wander along an old trail. Old trails are like old friends, they become closer trough the years. There's always something that pops out on any old trial that I didn't remember seeing before, or perhaps because of the lighting, the views change so frequently. I’m better at identifying the vegetation now, which helps to make it interesting, and my kids are picking up on that too, now that they are a little older, in their early twenties. I love to take them to Yosemite. I never get tired of seeing these views, no matter how many times I’ve seen them. They become more a part of me, the older I get. Sure, I've got other places that are special to me, in the park and beyond. But, there's only one Yosemite Valley. There will never be another one.
Thanks again, for taking the time to share your wonderful memories and thoughts.
Mark |
Curious2
| | Posted on Sunday, December 30, 2001 - 12:45 pm: | |
Mark,
Our trailer was war surplus, but there were also non-war surplus tear drop trailers. Ours had actually been used to transport military dogs during the war. The tear drop trailers that were produced after the war were similar in shape and design, but came with features that were much fancier than ours. I only remember seeing one other dog trailer in all my years. I saw many tear drop trailers, though.
I remember the rock by housekeeping camp, too. We never went there, but it is a tempting boulder to say the least. My smaller boulder was high enough for me. Boy did it allow us to build fun out of our imaginations.
In all of those trips to the rock spot, I only recall a loaf of bread being swiped. It was done by a squirrel -- a slice at a time.
We always stored our food in the car, and the bears left it alone. Maybe the old cars were harder to break into. If we spilled food under the table, as kids will do, the bears would come and eat that. We had marshmallow wires vanish a few times. We would find wires in the shrubs. Someone had licked them very clean. For the most part, the bears had more interesting goodies to obtain at the dump, so they just passed through without stopping to dine.
When my sister was in college, she took a group of Girl Scouts to Yosemite. They left the ice chest out on the table, and a bear walked over the sleeping girls and cleaned out the ice chest. It had to bounce the ice chest off of a tree to get it open. Everyone slept through the visit, but they were given a blow by blow description of the raid by several neighboring campers.
One year, my grandmother and an aunt joined us in our camping trip to Yosemite. We had 2 tents and the dog trailer. During the night, my mother got up to make a restroom visit. As she walked across the campground to the facilities, she kept hearing a noise like a bear growling. She stopped and looked around, but saw nothing. When she left the bulding, another camper made comment about the bear like sounds that she had heard in the campground. She pointed over toward our site, and indicated that it sounded like the sounds were coming from that area. My mother hurried back to check on the kids. What she discovered is that my grandmother was snoring so loud and this was what everyone was hearing. The next morning, a neighboring camper came over to see if we had heard the bear. I thought my mom was going to lose it -- I have never seen her laugh so hard.
We had a bacon grease can vanish once. No sign of the culprit, and we never found the can. Probably was a bear. |
Dot
| | Posted on Sunday, December 30, 2001 - 03:07 pm: | |
ABOUT ROCKS--
Here I sit--one of the ancient ones;remembering how we abused our rock climbing privileges. Horrors!!
Almost every year when the falls were all but dry, all of us, including children would climb the boulders up to the pool at the foot of Yosemite and Bridalveil. I don't remember signs being posted as to the dangers (that should have been obvious). I an quite sure that if the signs would have been there we wouldn't have broken the rules. But, as I looked at the people scrambling up the rocks again this year (now there are signs) I realized how very dangerous it could be. But it still looked like lots of fun! And, I think the pool at the foot of Bridalveil still looks scary--like something out of an enchanted forest. There goes my imagination.
By the way--do any of you remember the Sierra Point trail? That was also a yearly hike for us--though a bit perilous with small children in tow. What a view of the falls could be seen from the end of that trail! We always took a picnic lunch along and enjoyed a view like none other in the park. It has long since been closed due to unsafe conditions. Did any of you ever take the mile trail up to Glacier? That too is long gone.
And in my day---we climbed everything in tennis shoes--those were my hiking "boots". My husband always had boots--but to this day, I still hike in tennis shoes as I feel I get a better grip on everything.
And, curious, I got a great laugh out of your snoring bear story. We also had 2 tents as our family grew. My husband and I in the smaller one and the 3 kids in the other. One night in the midddle of the night I was awakened by my son in our tent--he said they had been hearing a bear all night and couldn't sleep. I told hinm that I hadn't heard a bear and to forget it and go back to bed. Only later did I realize that the bear had been my husband snoring! We never let him forget that one!
Mark, we always camped in 14 also---maybe we crossed paths as I think you are just a bit older than my oldest daughter.You say your children are in their 20's--I have 2 grandchildren in their 20's--but I was married at 18.And I was never going to be old!!! HA!
We who camped in those days have a special feeling for Yosemite as it was very different ---way back then.
HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!
PS--Mark, I have a feeling if you and I ever got together we would talk until the cows came home--we would just talk and talk. |
Mark
| | Posted on Sunday, December 30, 2001 - 04:24 pm: | |
Ha ha. Indeed, we would talk, Dot. Curious, you and Dot sound like folks that were definitely THERE, in those good days. Dot, I have been up to Sierra Point, back about 1970. It was closed then, but we found our way. I know the view. As I recall, we could see Vernal Fall, Illouette Fall and Yosemite Falls all from the same spot. Of course we were the only ones there. There were still pipe railings, just no trail. I wonder if the pipe railings are still there? That was a great view from up there. But, you're right, there wasn't a lot of room up there, and if they tried to keep it open these days, by building a new trial, they'd also have to figure out how to make the "standing area" larger.
As you referred to the Bridlevail Fall pool as being "enchanted", it sounds like you were also describing the Vernal Falls pool this year in late August, when the falls were so small that people, myself included swam there, diving of the rocks, etc. I didn't dive off the real high rocks. I couldn't get up the nerve. Heh heh. I mentioned that event in an earlier post. That was the only time that I’d seen that pool so accessible.
Your stories about the bear noises that weren't bears, makes me recall the time when some of us were wandering around with a friend, about twenty years back. We were commenting how we were basically invisible, in that these people around their campsites could only see the fire in front of them. We were thinking that because their eyes had been dilated, due to the light, no one could see past a few trees close to their campfires. While we, on the other hand being wandering around the campground in the dark, had become accustomed to the dark and could see much better than they could.
The long and the short of it was that we talked our friend into thinking that if he walked up near, but now too close to one of the neighboring campsites he could make his bear sounds, which as I recall were very good, and not be seen by these folks around their campfire.
Ha. Not a good idea. Yes, I think we’d been drinking. And all of a sudden, this friend of ours, in his late twenties decided to test it out. He walked up a group of campers around a campsite and started his bear sounds. The rest of us just kept walking, and circled around to gain a full view from the other side, while staying far back, so as not to be illuminated by their campfire. Ha. He was standing there in full view, with his hands in the air like paws with claws, making his bear sounds. Ha. They all acted calm, and began whispering among themselves. We didn’t know what to do.
He was way too close, making way too loud of noises, and totally illuminated by that fire. heh heh. Seeing what an idiot he looked like, we made our way back around and came up behind him. I walked up and put my arm around him, and then escorted him away. Looking back, they were all watching us very carefully. Ha, they must have thought he was a nut case. We were all nut cases, thinking it up in the first place, and guilty of talking him into it. Actually, I never thought that he really would. It’s not like we “double dared” him or anything. Ha. We laugh about it even to this day when we get together with him. That was just about one of the goofiest thing we'd ever done, and surely one of the funniest. I won’t post his name here, to preserve his fine reputation. Ha.
Mark |
AF
| | Posted on Sunday, December 30, 2001 - 09:34 pm: | |
Dot-
Were you talking about the Ledge trail in that last post? Also about the Sierra Point trail, I am a youngin' so that one is way before my time but a friend told me and another friend about it one time and we went looking for it. We did not make it to the point since we weren't sure we were heading the right way or not but I sure wish I could have seen it. For some reason all those old closed trails are so intriguing I guess it is because no one goes there anymore. Also because I have hiked most of the other trails that begin in the valley and it is always neat to find something new, or old depending on how you look at it.
Mark- I am not sure if the old railings are on that trail but you can still see the rails that were at the top I believe, in fact I think they can be seen from the trail to Vernals Falls. |
Mark
| | Posted on Sunday, December 30, 2001 - 09:43 pm: | |
Hi AF,
That's what I was thinking. I thought that if you were at the right spot, you could probably see it from below. I'm thinking that you'd probably have to have passed it, and gone up the Vernal Fall trail a little ways and then look back, but I'm not sure.
As for the Ledge Trail, it was reported to be too dangerous thirty years ago, and I had heard that even more of it has washed out. Someone I heard from, maybe on one of these forums, said that they went almost all the way up, and the last section was so steep, sandy and scary that they turned around. Ha. I'm not looking for that much excitement, I don't think. I wonder if anyone that reads this might have another view, or have heard anything else on that Ledge Trail?
Mark |
Dot
| | Posted on Sunday, December 30, 2001 - 11:49 pm: | |
I am beginning to feel VERY old as I remember so much that is gone now.Yes, I was referring to THE LEDGE TRAIL. My understanding is that back in the old days it was used to go back and forth to the valley from Glacier.
And, of course--I have a warning--don't ever try and do either of those trails.
Maybe 20 years ago my son decided to see what The Ledge trail was all about. Of course, it wasn't safe and I was no longer in charge. In fact, I wasn't even there.
He found the trail and started up and I guess it wasn't bad at first--but as he went along it became terrible and he tried to turn around and go back down---but he could find no safe way down that long gone trail. He had to fight and scramble his way up to Glacier. He was one lucky person to have survived his adventure.
Another story about that trail. One year we took the bus to Glacier to take The Panorama Trail down to the valley. We were guided by a ranger who made it very interesting. Since the pace was brisk;quite a few people lagged behind. Only a few of us finished the hike and we ended up back at Curry. One man, who was probably in his 40's and didn't look as if he was a REAL climber said he had to go back up to Glacier and get his car. We knew there were no more busses that day and asked if he had a ride up. He said--no--he was taking the Ledge trail back up! We were tired as The Panorama is a long trail. We met him later that evening and he made it up the Ledge trail in less than an hour and that was long after it was not considered safe. He was fresh as a daisy and to this day; I find it amamzing that he did that.
I have tried on a few occasions to find The Sierra Point trail and it is no longer there----too many rock-slides. But, in this day and age there would be a traffic jam as it was a very small area at the end of the trail.
When I tell my son that my REAL hiking days are over---he always comes up with someone my age who is climbing Mt. Everest. My kids never seem to know exactly how old I am. They always subtract a few years. since their dad died. I think it is hard to face the fact that mom is getting up there too.
But, don't count me out just yet. I have my sights set on the to of Vernal and maybe beyond next year.
It used to be SO easy.
AF---I know it is easy--but have you climbed Lembert Dome? I did that just a few years ago? How about Yosemite Point --just beyond the top of the falls? Have you done The Pohono Trail? You have probably already done them--just a couple of ideas.
Take care |
AF
| | Posted on Monday, December 31, 2001 - 12:37 pm: | |
Dot-
No actually I have not done Lambert Dome, or the Pohono trail. The day I went to the top of Yosemite Falls it was snowing, raining and, hailing (all in one 3 hour trip!) So I am not even completly sure that we made it to the very top! Maybe this coming summer I will do that one again and go to Yosemite Point. I went to the top of Sentinal Dome for the first time last summer and being that that was such an easy hike I was amazed at the awesome view (I think I liked that one better then Cloud's Rest!)
Mark-
You are right. You have to go past the trail on the Vernal Falls trail it is before you come to the bridge. I actually saw the rails when I was coming back down the trail one day after I had been to the top of Vernal for like the 30th (it seems like) time. I still am not sure that my friend and I were hiking in the right spot on the day that we went to try and find the trail to Sierra Point, it was definatly in an area where there had been rockslides so it probably was. (We got spooked, we thought something or someone one was watching us so we turned around that day. Being that it was the summer of '99 we were pretty easily scared up there in the park and for good reason. It's probably a good thing we turned around since we didn't really know where we were going and since the trail is so dangerous.) |
Dot
| | Posted on Saturday, January 19, 2002 - 11:16 am: | |
I thought that since we have had so many serious discussions about Yosemite camping--that maybe it was time to talk about good old fashioned memories.
I remember when no one was able to rent or even buy anything to float down the river on a lazy summer afternoon. We brought up our air mattresses and they did double duty: and hopefully we didn't puncture one or ruin it as we would have been sleeping on the hard ground. Of course, we always brought up a repair kit.
It was so much fun to form a caravan of air mattresses and float down the river and hope you would all stay attached to one another.
Then when the river got low--we would build the dams to channel the water to enable us to keep doing out thing.
And, of course that was always another challenge--as kids love to throw rocks and it seemed as soon as we would spend a day getting a good dam going--in a short while we would find some kid thinking what fun it was to throw rocks.
My husband was normally a very tolerant man--but two issues drove him crazy. One was the tearing down of his carefully built dams and the other was kids throwing rocks at the ducks. He was quick to let them know that was not the thing to do. But, they were always right back at it again. One of those losing battles.
Now, I sit on the river bank watching the people float by and remember--the way it was. |
Curious2
| | Posted on Sunday, January 20, 2002 - 01:22 am: | |
Last one in the water is a rotten egg!
One year, we used the air mattresses, too. When they went flat, we had to settle for swimming. That water was pretty coooolllld.
Speaking of Yosemite water, do you remember how special the Yosemite drinking water used to taste? We always brought home as much as we could carry. When I took my kids there, the first time, they raved about the water. I had to go buy gallons of store water and empty them to bring home the real Yosemite water. It doesn't taste that great anymore. Heaven only knows what we were drinking that has been determined to be unhealthy. Now the water has no sweet taste. I miss that water. When I go back to Yosemite, my youngest son always asks me to bring him some Yosemite water. |
Angela
| | Posted on Sunday, January 20, 2002 - 07:49 pm: | |
I also used to bring home Yosemite water. It did have a sweet taste. I would fill up two jugs and have them for about a week at home. It kinda extended that Yosemite connection for awhile. You're right, it tastes different, actually pretty terrible. I'm more concerned about what they put in it now! Angela |
Dot
| | Posted on Sunday, January 20, 2002 - 11:35 pm: | |
I agree--that Yoaemite water used to be the best, But now I feel as Angela and Curious2: it just doesn't even resemble the same water. In fact,I hate to say that I now often drink bottled water while in The Valley.
But a very interesting aside----about 40 years ago, I had a friend who could not drink the water in Yosemite as it made her ill. Then my oldest daughter also had a problem with the water and we had to always bring lots of water along just for her to drink. I used to think that possibly it was all of the minerals in the water--but who knows? AND---we used to drink the water from the streams and certain places in the Valley. I had always heard back then ( way back then ) if it flowed over rocks for a certain length of time that it was ok to drink.I have no idea where I heard that--but drink we did.We drank at Illouette falls.Nevada,Vernal and just about anywhere we could find a place we could find water along a trail--- except the Merced right in the Valley.We never got sick. We did that for many years: but then the dreaded organisms started appearing in the water and our drinking the untreated water stopped.It still looks very inviting--but, no thanks.
There was probably a risk back when we were doing it--but our luck held.
Ignorance is bliss. |
Curious2
| | Posted on Monday, January 21, 2002 - 11:53 am: | |
Angela,
Actually, the water is probably treated the same as the tap water that you have at home. I have read that the old Yosemite water was snow melt, and was basically untreated. There is arsenic in the Sierras, and no telling where the snow melt run-off came from, and what it carries with it. I am glad they are treating the water now, but I still miss that crisp sweet taste.
Dot,
Old scouting (boy and girl) books used to tell you that water was safe to drink if it ran in the sun and over rocks for a certain distance. I am sure there were other sources for that information, too. Like with so many other things, we have become smarter in recent years. What we didn't know may have hurt us, and we just didn't know! If I were on the trail, and out of water, I would probably take my chances with that old adage. Wouldn't want it on my headstone, "Fear of Giardia lead to dehydration."
When I was a kid, we used to drive up out of the San Fernando Valley, to go to Yosemite and points north. We would pass a man-made water spillway that carried water over rapids and into the reservoir. The water came from the Sierras (Owens River), and had a similar sweet taste. In recent years, I have noticed that there is no water running down that spillway. The water in the SFV does not taste as sweet, either.
Guess we have to give up something to get something.
If I think hard enough, I can find the spot in my brain that stores the sweet crisp taste of Yosemite water. Mmmmmm! Pour me another glass, please.
Back to camping memories.
I remeber pancakes cooked over the open fire. The bottoms were a little black, and there was the occasional piece of wood ash in them. Just added to the taste! And the Log Cabin Syrup that came in the can shaped like a log cabin.
And there was Spam and canned potatoes hash with a side of VanKamp's Pork and Beans (we fought over the lousy piece of fat they called pork). And, do you remember the marshmallows that came in a little box, instead of a bag? I think the wrapper was blue with white lettering.
Then there was the hot chocolate that my mom used to make. I still make it as a comfort food.
Guess I am hungry!
If you go into the Indian Museum, in the valley, look at the big picture of the people watching the Indian program. I think I saw the back of my sister's head in the picture. Just standing in front of the oversized photo is a flash from the past. |
Kas
| | Posted on Monday, January 21, 2002 - 12:22 pm: | |
I think we have a good group of people here that very much remember marshmallows in a box, Campfire I think. And what about the little boxes of cereal that had perforated lines that you followed to turn the box into a box with 'hurricane' like doors. Add milk and sugar and eat right out of the box. One more and I will stop. Oleo that came in a bag with a little yellow 'egg'. Break the egg (yellow food coloring) and mix with the white oleo to make butter, margarine, or what ever you want to call it. |
Dot
| | Posted on Monday, January 21, 2002 - 04:45 pm: | |
Oh yes, I remember all of that food: including the oleo we had to mix. That stuff started during World War 2 and as kid I used to think it was wonderful. It really was quite awful as compared to butter--but it was new and seemed to be So good. I might add another staple we always took----Dinty Moore Stew and lots of canned tuna for sandwiches. We also used to freeze meat and spagetti sauce at home and bring it up in our Coleman cooler as back in my ancient of days---once the frozen stuff was gone--it was all canned from then on.
But, somehow, it always tasted good.
There was opne thing I never brought and that was Spam. My husband literally hated the word as he said he ate so much of it in the Navy--he never wanted to see it again. I loved Spam and now I buy the Turkey Spam and eat it guilt free. If he were still alive: I'm sure he would hate it also.
Another favorite food was wrapping potatoes in foil and burying them in the coals to bake. YUM!!! We also had a wire basket to pop corn over the campfire coals. Good food--good memories. |
AF
| | Posted on Tuesday, January 22, 2002 - 11:38 am: | |
Doesn't everything just taste so much better in the mountains?? Every summer there I gain 20 pounds...I am sure it's partially because the fatty YCS food and my tri-weekly pint of Ben and Jerry's ice cream. One of these days it will all catch up with me, when the weight doesn't fall off in the winter, thats when I will be in big trouble.
I don't know about most of these things you guys are talking about as I am youngin' (I do know about the Dinty Moore though :o) Never really liked Spam much myself but, Pork and Beans I remember but all the other stuff is really new for me, you guys are certainly educating me on the camping foods from the past. Keep those memories coming. :o) |
Kas
| | Posted on Tuesday, January 22, 2002 - 02:34 pm: | |
Recipe for Tuolumne Surprise:
1 can sliced white potatoes, drained
1 can Blue Lake Green Beans, drained
1 small can Spam
Dice Spam throw it into a skillet. Brown lightly. Add drained beans and potatoes. Heat thoroughly. Must be eaten while sitting on a picnic table in Yosemite. Tuolumne Meadows, Tenya Lake or the Valley will do. Tastes great.
CAUTION: If you try to make and eat this at home, you'll gag and wonder why it tastes of good in Yosemite!! Just ask "H". |
Curious2
| | Posted on Tuesday, January 22, 2002 - 05:42 pm: | |
You are sooo right, Kas!
No way would I even get away with serving Spam to my kids. Same for feeding me bacon. But when it is cooked in the open, and you are truly hungry, it will hit the spot every time. And it sure doesn't hurt if it is served up with the ambiance of Yoesmite all around.
I had a meal that I would cook when I took the kids camping. Mac & cheese, a can of peas, and either tuna or chopped up hot dogs. Tried it at home, once -- and only once. I think the kids walked up to Micky D's that day. Oh well, the dogs ate well!
Say hi to H. We haven't heard from her for quite a while. Will she be going back on bear patrol this summer?
Now for a Yosemite camping memory:
Since my dad was a great fisherman, and very familiar with the lakes and streams of the Sierra's, we occasionally went looking for that perfect trout spot with him. One year, we headed off for one of the obscure lakes up by TM, and found ourselves in a dense forest. The trail vanished, and it was impossible to see the landmark mountains. I was certain that we would be lost, and they would find our mauled bodies, years later. About that time, we heard something thrashing through the dense shrubs. Now, I was really scared. They were coming to get us before we were dead. We stood perfectly still and listened -- hoping to hear voices, or some sort of identifying sound. Pretty soon, a voice rang out, "Hey, anyone got toilet paper, I must have dropped mine."
It is hard to keep from breaking out in laughter at a time like this. The poor guy was about 10 feet from us, and must have died a thousand times over when he realized that his bare backside was flashing us through the brush.
My dad offered him a roll. He took off when he realized he had company.
The nice thing is he blazed a trail for us, and we made it to the lake without any further problems. Well, there was one problem, Dad didn't catch any fish.
We probably had Spam that night. |
Dot
| | Posted on Tuesday, January 22, 2002 - 11:56 pm: | |
The camping memory was great Curious2
Just when you least expect something--watch out!
And, doesn't some of the food we cooked seem horrible--but it always seemed to satisfy everyone. I certainly had fewer complaints about my camping cooking than I did when I tried hard to fix well balanced meals at home. And Kas, I actually could probably eat your "special" at home. I would use turkey Spam and maybe a little onion. I am not hard to please when it comes to food.But now all the healthy eating has removed many of my favorite things from my diet.
One of my camping memories also includes food. I was still young--about 21. As we wanted to go to Yosemite and take our first child with us---my mother went along to help so we could hike. Mind you, I had Never hiked. but I did walk alot as I didn't learn to drive until I was 29!That was one strange choice I made and I still don't like to drive.
Anyway, our first hike was to be to the top of Yosemite Falls (what did I know?). We decided to eat at the Lodge before we left in order to save time. I just thought the day was going to be So special--my first hike and mom was baby sitting. Well, I had pancakes for breakfast--something I seldom ate. Off we sent on our hike. We hadn't gone far when I realized those pancakes felt like lead in my stomach--misery. I didn't say anything as my husband was so enthused.On we went and I just thought I was going to die. We finally got to Columbia Point and I said --enough. He was understanding --but disappointed. So, back we went.
I started feeling better later in the day and all was well. WRONG!!
Early the next morning my husband decided we needed to try again! I didn't want to seem too weak--so off we went. Well, it actually turned out fine and that was my first ascent of Yosemite Falls. I still can't believe that I hiked UP that trail 2 days in a row. I wish I could still hike and IF maybe I exercised more it would be a possibility. Now that am alone, I can take my time and no one is pushing me. My husband was a natural born hiker--but even though I enjoyed the challenge--it was never easy.
After that fateful day. I still fixed pancakes for my family--but to this day I have never had another one and that is 50 years later. |
AF
| | Posted on Wednesday, January 23, 2002 - 01:15 pm: | |
Hey Dot-
There's another something we have in common...
I learned to drive at 21!!! I just never wanted to before then when it became absolutly necessary. Except now I love to drive.
And my first ever big hike in Yosemite was to the top of yosemite falls! What a crazy hike to pick for the first!! That was in '99 my third day in the park and I went with two people I had just met three days earlier anyway one of those was a guy training for the marines and boy was that a crazy experience because we went so fast up that trail that I thought my heart would fall out of my chest not to mention the fact that before we made it to the top it had begun to rain...hail then finnally snow!! I think the entire trip took us less then 4 hours round trip!!! Anyway since then, although both years I have been back to the park I have yet to climb that trail again although I have wanted to just haven't made it past the thought of doing it. Hopefully this coming summer I will do that hike again.
That's pretty wild that you guys went two days in a row, that is real determination! |
Kas
| | Posted on Wednesday, January 23, 2002 - 06:27 pm: | |
Curious 2, Dot and AF,
Loved your stories. Yes, "H" will be back on bear patrol this summer.(Lucky stiff!!)
We have a vacation journal that we keep religiously day by day. Sometimes it is fun to read and suddenly be reminded of something that had totally slipped your mind.
A few years back, between the pop-up and tent era, we had a motor home. aka money pit. It had a small kitchen with sink, frig and stove. We were staying up at TM and had spaghetti for dinner. Rog had bought prepared garlic bread that he though would be great with dinner. While I was getting the salad prepared, Rog put the broiler on a very low flame and popped in the bread. In just a few seconds we smelled something burning. "H" and I asked about the smell and Rog said, "It's just the crap burning off the heating element." He checked and it wasn't the element, it was the bread, almost charred. Cutting the top layer off did no good. "H" and I laughed our butts off, but Rog was not too pleased with us. To this day, when something smells like it is burning, we pipe up and say,"It's just burning off the crap". |
Dot
| | Posted on Thursday, January 24, 2002 - 12:15 am: | |
Speaking of bears---
I was thinking about many years ago: staring in the 50's for us when we spent our vacations in what was then Camp 14. Plastics and Tupperware were the containers of choice (aren't the new inexpensive one's wonderful) and I would always bring several pf them with us.By the time I had my 3 children, I had quite a collection of Tupperware. This particular year I had finally acquired a bread keeper that stored a loaf of bread and solved the problem of keeping the bread fresh. We were fortunate and got a spot by the meadow. In those days the bears were not wreaking too much havoc on cars as they roamed the camgrounds and found plenty of food.
There were simply trash cans and it was common to hear then all night long dumping the trash cans over and feasting. In fact, in those days we stored our food in our cars and had no problems as the bears were happy with the trash. However, if you were stupid enough to leave something out; they would pay you a visit.
I always washed my dishes and then put them in a special box I had and covered it with plastic and left it on the edge of the table. I had just finished a loaf of bread and washed my tupperware bread box and stowed it with the dishes.
In the middle of the night we heard a bear snorting around outside of our tent--but we knew there was no food and we weren't too concerned. The next morning when I got up----I saw my Tupperware bread box on the ground and the top was off. But, other than the plastic being removed from my box all else was intact. Upon further examination I saw teeth marks and scratches all over the container. Obviously, being plastic, the odor stayed in the container and he was ready to have himself a feast.
No more damage done and we had a new bear story to tell
And, as a testament to Tupperware it was still very much intact and I used it for years.I really think that taking the trash away from the camgrounds contributed to the bears breaking into cars. Now, they have bear safes at Curry for people to store their food as well as at Housekeeping. For MANY years, we stored out food in the car as that was our only choice. And, we never had a bear break in.
Kas, Your story about the bread was so funny. My husband was a firefighter and as such had to cook at the station.He was actually a pretty good cook as are most Firemen.
But, every now and then --they would get a call as dinner was being cooked and in their haste sometimes they would forget to turn something off and as a result had a few crispy critters and had to send out for food
But, he would NEVER cook a meal at home. Not too long ago, I ran across his recipe book he kept for the fire station--his own collection. I now treasure that book as I never saw it until after he died.His recipies were quite good and amoung them were some of mine that were his favorites.
AF--if I were younger--you and I could do the falls together at our own pace!!! |
AF
| | Posted on Thursday, January 24, 2002 - 11:58 am: | |
Dot-
I do plan on doing the Falls MUCH slower next time because I want to enjoy the trip, the scenery and all.
Also the next time I do that hike it will be a bit different, as last summer a friend of mine was lost (he fell) while climbing up that trail. So I will probably be thinking of him a lot during the hike. I am sure it will be a much more emotional and spirtual trip then the first time I climbed up there.
Speaking of bears: I had never done anything but keep my food in the car while camping until I came to Yosemite. As I child I only camped other places like Lake Alpine (hw. 4) and Clarks Fork and Pinecrest (hw 108) They always had food storage cantainers out there but I think everyone always just put the ice chest in the car at night and we never had any problems either. The only time we had a problem other then just seeing the occasional bear was one time camping at a place called CHILKOOT which is above BASS LAKE. It was during the day and we were camped at a very secluded campground only two or three other parties camping near us, we had gone for a hike and our friend left out her ice chest when we returned it had TEETH marks in it and was dumped out! I think we slept in the car that night! :o) |
Kas
| | Posted on Thursday, January 24, 2002 - 05:13 pm: | |
Dot,
Small world. My very favorite son-in-law is a Paramedic/Firefighter. It is kind of funny here. Not alot of fires at all. The crews get all pumped up when there is a fire. I think they seem like little boys ... ready to wet their pants!! They are allowed to get excited, they risk their lives every day. My son-in-law actually got hit by a car while loading an accident victim into the back of the ambulance. That's Florida for you. |
Curious2
| | Posted on Thursday, January 24, 2002 - 10:00 pm: | |
Talking about firemen, and burnt things, I have another camping story. This one did not happen in Yosemite, but could have.
We went out with several fire dept families (my Dad was a firefighter for 30 years). Not all of the gang were experienced at camping. We had camped near a great fishing river in Northern Cal. The big people spent the day casting their lines, while us kids played. During the evening, we built a fire that would make any fireman glow with pride. Wet shoes were usually placed on the fire ring edge to take advantage of the warmth.
As we all sat around talking about our day, someone noted the distinct smell of burning rubber. We checked the shoes, and everything seemed fine.
As the fire subsided and people wandered off to their beds for the night, the smell gradually faded.
The next morning, one family was looking for a pair of shoes. Their son had come to camp with only one pair of shoes, and they were nowhere to be found. Well, almost nowhere. As we poked through the ashes, we found the melted evidence of the toasted shoes. Seems the child was told to put the shoes by the fire, so he did.
Hey, AF, you are not the only redhead on the block! We redheads have to stick together.
Sorry to hear about the loss of your friend. Life is uncertain, so enjoy Yosemite while you can. The real saying ends -- eat dessert first, but Yosemite is dessert. |
Dot
| | Posted on Thursday, January 24, 2002 - 11:21 pm: | |
That story really brought back some memories about campfires and tennis shoes. Many a time I got my tennis shoes too warm with my feet in them;but I never did own up to it. That led to another memory. I think that when it came to cleanliness, I was overzealous when camping---I spent a good deal of time hand washing the kids clothes. But,my best friend had this thing about shoelaces and every night she would wash her kids shoelaces and I thought she was surely nuts. One evening as she was doing her shoelaces she wanted to wash mine also.Well, after that night I started doing the same thing and the tradition was passed on to me. To this day, I wash my shoelaces when in Yosemite. I KNOW it is insane.
AF--I am truly sorry about your friend. I remember reading about it on the Half Dome discussion page and it saddened me.As a parent and grandparent I know how terrible it must have been for his family. I came up to the Valley in July and they were still talking about it. Nature can be very unforgiving. I hurt myself seriously one year as I wasn't paying as much attention as I should have. Now I am keenly aware as I look around and see many people on crutches etc. as they are looking up at the beauty of Yosemite and not watching their feet. There are fatalities every year and that is a sad fact.
Curious2 that is so interesting that your dad was a firefighter. My husband was on the Department for almost 28 years as he was allowed to take 2 years of Navy service and add it to his years on the department in order to retire with 30 years. I think he would have stayed on forever-but once he became a Captain: he could no longer dive in and do what he loved most: fighting fires---supervising wasn't really what he loved. He liked the white hat and helmet--but he loved fighting fires and helping people best. It is indeed a small world. |
AF
| | Posted on Thursday, January 24, 2002 - 11:33 pm: | |
Hi Guys,
Yeah nature certainly is unforgiving, and you are right Dot every year there is at least one tragady up there (usually more then one) This happend at the very end of June so you were probably there right after it happened. It was pretty tough on everyone, not a fun way to begin the summer for sure.
I don't have any camping memeories to add to your collections tonight as I am very tired since I just got home from work (RETAIL is NO FUN!!!! But the great part is I get to get up early and take a fat MATH Test at school tommorrow!!! Sarcasm intended! AGGGH Wish me luck guys as I will need it for sure!) |
Kas
| | Posted on Friday, January 25, 2002 - 06:24 pm: | |
It is so very easy to walk and look up at the beautiful scenery. But, it is so important to watch your feet and where you place them. It's easy to lose track.
That brings me to our 1999 Vacation. The previous year we made a commitment to give another park a try. We went to the Grand Tetons's and hiked the Teton Crest Trail. Rog actually drove me to the beginning of Harrison Ford's driveway. (Now that's love, BE STILL MY HEART!!)We went to Yellowstone for a few days and all it did was rain. We looked at each other and said, Yosemite! We headed straight for TM and had a few great days. So, in 1999 we decided not to visit. We could take it only until late Sept. We booked a flight, rented a car and got a campsite reserved in Upper Pines. We were there for Thanksgiving. It was a cold 21 degrees sleeping in our tent, but we were in hog heaven. We were hiking to the middle falls section of Yo Falls. I had remembered reading a story about a previous rock slide and the people that were hurt. We had discussed being alert and watching for any hint of trouble. On our way up to Columbia Rock we were going through the section of a previous rock slide. Suddenly there were small rocks raining down from up above. I yelled, "Who the heck is throwing rocks?" Dah! I thought the trail had switched-back above us, when in fact the trail kept going straight. I couldn't believe I was so stupid. It was a very minor rock release and I should have been ready to throw myself against the largest boulder in site and there I was, looking up and yelling. Yes, we wrote it down in our journal. Guess it just shows that even when you think you have all bases covered, you don't. |
Dot
| | Posted on Friday, January 25, 2002 - 10:44 pm: | |
AF--I just wanted to say that Foresta is indeed a beautiful and very quiet place and most people don't even know it exists. Just as well.
Kas---I just can't stop laughing over your post on the other discussion and I am alone and sober.
This camping memory is so bad that I try and forget--but as it was my stupidity that caused it--- I will share. I was born in Long Beach. CA. and one would think I would be able to swim. However, my sister and I were probably the two worst swimmers that ever came from Long Beach. I am sure I could not save myself from drowning in a bathtub.
When in Yosemite I was often on my air mattress in the river in the hot afternoons.Most of the time, I would simply anchor myself next to a rock and read. One afternoon I decided to go off by myself ( which in my case was not a good idea.) I went down or up river whichever was the case. So, I bravely took off down the river on my air mattress. I was quite proud of myself and was having a wonderful time. UNTIL--I came to Camp 14 and wanted to paddle myself over to the shore and go back to camp. All of a sudden , I was caught in a whirlpool that often surrounds rocks or submerged objects amd try as I may, I couldn't free myself. I was sure that some unknown object was going to suck me under and I would die. I guess that during my ordeal, I was screaming at the top of my lungs and didn't realize it--after all-- I was drowning. Soon I was aware that people were gathering on the shore yelling at me--but I was so panicked I kept screaming and wondering why no one was going to rescue me.About that time I heard a voice I recognized as being my husbamd's voice screaming above the rest.I stopped screaming and listened ----He said, just get off of the mattress--you are only in 3 feet of water. Right about then I did want to die as everyone on shore was laughing and all I could do was cry.
I kept a very low profile and didn't go near the river again that trip. |
Dot
| | Posted on Tuesday, February 12, 2002 - 01:28 pm: | |
NOT MY CAMPING MEMORY---
But, I was there.
Due to my misfortune of being bitten by a brown recluse spider in 1990 and almost dying and having 2 serious relapses;that ended our camping experiences. So after that--it was Curry or The Lodge.
I must also admit I am not sure of the year this happened as I have been to Yosemite so many times I forget when things happen.
We had just returned from our aftenoon at the river and were putting our things away in the room at Curry when we heard a noise and lots of commotion outside. We went out and there were people everywhere looking up. It looked like a huge forest fire in the direction of Happy Isles. Everyone was milling around trying to figure out what was going on. Soon someone said there had been a huge rockslide at Happy Isles. It was an unbelievable sight as the air was thick with dust and it was spreading over everything. It is not a pleasant thought--but the only way to describe it was that it looked just like New York after the horrific September 11 tragedy.
All we could hear were sirens and it was so frightening as we were so afraid that many people had been killed. We then gravitatd down towards the main road and we could see how much dust there really was.
Soon came the exodus of campers. It was a terrible sight. They were all in shock and cars and equipment hastily thrown in and on tops of cars were covered in gray. People were talking to us as they were fleeing and warned us to leave. It was like a bad movie. Of course, everything was blocked off and we were getiing no information as there seemed to be none coming out. Then all the news media with their sattelite trucks arrived. There was an endless stream of cars and not all were campers; many from Curry were checking out--especially the tent cabins.I actually had to call home to find out what was happening a short distance from us.
The thing that kept it from being a disaster of monstrous proportions was that it happened late in the afternoon and Happy Isles was no longer crowded. We all spent a good part of that night just sitting around ntalking to people. None of us slept much that night.
Being that I was very curious; I decided that I knew how I could get into the area without being stoppecd or crossing barriers.
We got into the campground nearest the slide--I have no idea what they call it now; It was an area of utter chaos. There was no color ---everything was gray and covered in a layer of dust. People had literally left with just the clothes on their backs. I saw one sight where they left everything including 4 bicycles. Tables were left with plates of food.
It was one of the most devastating things I have ever seen. We were also able then to see the slide. I can only imagine how those campers felt and I wonder if any ever came back to Yosemite to camp again.
So, there is a cmping memory that I am happy to say wasn't mine. |
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