When I first moved to California about 9 years ago (wow), I had a long list of things I wanted to do while I was here.  I have been pretty lackadaisical about tackling this list, but over time I've somehow managed to dwindle it down to just one final item.  The elusive experience? Yosemite National Park.  As it turns out, I saved the best for last. 

Ironically, it took an invitation from a German girl and a French guy to join them for an overnight trip to this American treasure to get me there.  The three of us together was like a walking exhibit from "It's a Small World". 

Our first stop on the way was to eat enormous cheeseburgers from the oldest operating saloon in California.  I watched in horror as they delicately ate their cheeseburgers, fries and even pickle spear with a knife and fork and they watched in horror as I dug in with my hands like a "dirty barbarian".  We've a ways to go to bridge the culture gap...

We arrived at the park to find out that it was on fire and the main road we needed to take to get to the village was closed.  This meant a little detour of about 2 and a half hours to get to the alternate entrance.  At least the drive was pretty. 

It also meant that we wouldn't get a big hike in that day, and so when we finally got there we had to make do with just wandering around some of the smaller trails and base camps.  I wasn't disappointed with this though.  It was gorgeous and I quickly fell in love with the area. 

Here's El Capitan from somewhere near the entrance.  If you zoom in 1,000,000x you might see a rock climber or two on its face.   I don't know whether to be impressed or somewhat disturbed by the zealousness that would inspire someone to attempt that.  I'm leaning towards disturbed.

I'd rather climb one of these trees.  But having already been called a barbarian once that day, I stayed on the ground like a civilized human being. 

But I'll be back...

Fortunately, there were still pretty sights to see from the ground.

Franck and Verena take a moment to memorize the floor plan of the park.  I assume we can just rely on the ground markers to direct us in the right place.

Neither strategy works and we end up lost on the wrong trail.  Our ineptitude ends up being fortuitous as it places us right in the path of one of the most exciting moments I've ever had in the woods. 

I've always worried about the possibility of running into a bear and if I would remember what to do to survive the encounter.  Do you play dead, do you run down a hill, do you stand there as still as possible or do you shout at it and pretend to be a threat?  I always assumed my instincts would kick in and lead me in the right direction.

However, when a big brown bear wandered onto our path less than a 100 feet ahead of us, I demonstrated what can only be called a complete lack of survival instincts.  Where Franck and Verena intelligently and slowly backed away, I gave way to giddy excitement and took a few steps towards the beautiful creature and started snapping pictures.

It wasn't until my flash caught his attention and he turned his head to stare me down....

...that I realized I better follow suit and scurried to catch up to my smarter friends, who were in the midst of bitterly complaining about my not having a "realistic sense of fear".  Whatever, all I had to be was faster than either one of them. 

We follow the signs to the base of a waterfall only to find that it had dried up and we'd have to come back in the Spring to see it.  At least we were able to climb all over the rocks, an activity I oddly enjoy. 

Overall, it was a pretty phenomenal introduction to the park.  We were eager to get back the next day and get into the heart of it all.

The second day had a lot to live up to though, what with the wild bear encounter the day before.  We decide our best bet is the Mist Trail and set out early that day to tackle this 8 mile loop.  

The main reason I bring my camera on hikes is to have a cover story for when I want to take a break but don't want to look wimpy.  The secondary reason is to capture the experience and the scenery to enjoy again later.  The camera served both purposes well on this hike.

It was so early that we almost missed this little bugger watching the action from the sidelines.

We all gear up for the hike ahead of us, still blissfully unaware of just how strenuous stretches of it would turn out to be.  

Still when we got to the first waterfall, any question of it being worthwhile was answered definitively.  It was one of the most beautiful sights I have ever seen, so forgive the number of rather repetitive pictures. 

From this rock, you could feel the spray of the water on your face which was blissful on such a hot day. 

We finally tore ourselves away from this spot and continued on our pursuit of the second waterfall further up the trail.

We made a few friends along the way... until they discovered we did not have food for them.  His cute begging pose quickly went into an attack crouch when he discovered that our clucking noises was just to get him to pose for pictures and not to offer him up delicious morsels of food.  He felt tricked and used.   

It was a beautiful route to the top...

... but we were happy to find places to stop and catch our breath. 

We find the second waterfall, which was gorgeous, but not as exciting as the first simply because we couldn't get as close. 

We made our way to the top of the mountain and were rewarded with a pretty little stream perfect for picnicking and unwinding next to. 

While I was busy taking pictures and dipping my toes in the stream, Verena and Franck made friends with a local squirrel by means of trail mix.  

Unable to contain my jealousy, I rushed over to experience this firsthand.  I held out a peanut (the closest thing to his natural diet that I had access to) in the palm of my hand and offered it up to him.  He gingerly made his way over to investigate.

I thought things were going well until he reached my hand.  Instead of chomping down on the peanut, he went straight for my fingertip.  Fortunately, he didn't fully commit to the bite, but still... its a really strange sensation to have your finger in between the teeth of a squirrel.  I'm not going to lie...  despite the betrayal and the pain, I still thought it was awesome.  How many people can boast about getting bit by a woodland creature?  Plus, he later held my hand, so I think we got over our differences. 

If I wake up with rabies at some point though, I will revise my attitude.  Fortunately, I have his picture if I need to find him again to get my revenge.  I'd recognize those shifty eyes anywhere. 

After a long leisurely lunch, we decide its time to head down the mountain.  We chose a new path to spice up the scenery and I exploited my black and white feature on my camera.  Is it going too far to declare myself the next Ansel Adams?  ...Or is it not going far enough?

The view from the other side of the waterfall.

We finally make it back to the car and just as we are about to get in and drive away a family of deer come strolling through the parking lot.  I gingerly tested the limits for how close the male would let me get to him and found him to be completely without fear of people.  He was too busy eating a crab apple to care what I was doing.  I was this close to trying to hug him, but those antlers could probably do some serious damage, so I decided not to push my luck.

For the record, I know I broke all sorts of rules when it came to interacting with wild animals.  I am not proud, but damn...it was so exciting!  And clearly, I am not the first person these animals have stumbled on, so the damage was already done.   That's my best defense.  And at least I wasn't the guy feeding a squirrel cheetos.  There, I found someone to feel morally superior to! 

With our Yosemite experience coming to an end, we reluctantly got in the car to head home.  On the way, we stopped at a gas station and was on site for the fire helicopters coming in to refill their tanks to help stamp out the fire raging out of control on the other side of the park.  It was pretty amazing to watch them work despite the tragedy behind them being there. 

I still need to get back to this place to camp and explore the many other trails, but for a first taste, the weekend was incredible and Yosemite has already climbed the ranks as one of my favorite places.  It was stunning and there are precious few places that inspire a near perma- grin on my naturally dour face the way it did. 

I now need to work on creating a new list of places and experiences I want to have.  I have a few ideas, so I look forward to making them a reality as well!  Hopefully, it won't take me another 9 years....

No longer being able to put off the daunting task of having to come up with my own mystery weekend, I was forced to earn my keep by planning one for the group that didn't suck.  The trouble with going last is that the bar was already set... and it was set high.  That's the problem with having creative friends... it puts the pressure on. 

Not only did I want to match the fun of the preceding trips, I also wanted the weekend be as telling of my own character as they each have been of others in the past.   After searching the inner depths of my mind and soul, and running through a long list of characteristics, I finally settled on the one that best captured the essence of who I am:  GOLD DIGGER.  It was sort of obvious, really. 

It was easy from there and I planned an exciting* weekend adventure in the Gold Country.  

*somewhat tame and mellow

I wanted every detail to be perfect and counted on Yelp* reviews to lead the way.  I booked us for two nights in the highest rated hotel in Placerville, right in the heart of it all (middle of nowhere...).

Apparently, five stars is relative.   It took us a bit to realize we hadn't been duped and that there actually *were* two beds in the room.  Panic was high for a long two seconds.

The other bad sign?  That the only piece of silverware in the drawer could also double as a weapon (especially for the truly desperate, which quite frankly was not far fetched here).

The hotel was notorious for being haunted, but Kathy and I read from the bible found in the nightstand which must have inadvertently blessed the room.  At least that's the only explanation *I* can think of for not seeing any ghosts...

And for those who are curious... the bible did not burn my hands when I touched it.  Though I can't say I wasn't concerned.  Next test?  Holy water!   

The next morning we are bright eyed and bushy tailed and ready to take the day by storm! (or go back to bed... either way)

Having some time to kill, we head out to explore the beautiful (cough, cough), historic stretch of downtown Placerville.  We find a cute breakfast place and hit the shops.  Its not clear to Nicholas what I am feeling so he takes a closer look.  Its now clear.... I am not amused. 

At last I am ready to reveal to the group the planned adventure for the day....  

White Water Rafting!

I basically used the weekend to con people into doing something I had wanted to do again for awhile.  Not being sure of everyone's experience or comfort level though, I booked us for a trip down a Class 3 stretch of water.  It was just enough to be exciting, but not so much that I had to worry about one of us (Ty) not making it back alive. 

Nicholas took the role of our fearless leader... while I focused on mirroring his every move.  It got awkward when I found myself staring longingly at Ty.  I guess some things are just not necessary to keep the raft moving efficiently...

I prove here that no matter where I am or whats happening around me, I *will* get my daily nap in.  I also prove that this may be the first time that my skin has actually seen the sun...

There were plenty of relaxing stretches of water....

but there were some that were a bit more interesting as well...

I stare danger in the face with an even keeled expression.  Bring it water.  I drink you for breakfast.

The boat capsizes at one point, but unlike everyone else, I remain calm and collected in the face of a crisis.  Its just who I am. 

I actually had hoped that we would lose one member of our boating party, but we were not so lucky.  Much to my chagrin, they let two randoms onto our boat and one of them treated us to a half hour lecture on the proper pronunciation of "Teva".    I almost used my Teva to kick him right off... 

... but the guide was watching.  And God. 

So all were onboard still when we came out of the rapids. 

Karma apparently has still not quite come around to favor me yet.  Oh well.  It was still fun regardless. 

I had made reservations that night at The HeyDay Cafe back in Placerville and this time Yelp* did not lead us astray.  It alone might have made the trip worthwhile! 

And if there's anything this group requires to keep them happy... its good food.  And these are not the faces you want to disappoint.

Nicholas's attempt to give me a wet willy backfires.  I am just pleased for the free ear cleaning. Better than a q-tip!

He learns his lesson the hard way to play nice.  And I keep a firm grasp on his other hand.  That ear was already clean.

Back at the hotel, we attempt to hold a seance in the lobby.  But....nothing.  Classic case of false advertising.  I am waiting to hear back from the hotel on my request for a refund. 

The next day the adventure continued!  I whisked my unsuspecting guests off to the heart of the gold country and took them to historic Columbia State Park.  Time seems to have stood still for this town and it was like stepping back into the 1840's when the gold rush was in full flurry and businesses were booming!  I even got a job in the local brothel....

...but couldn't find any interested customers.  Ty at least goes through the motion of pretending to check his pockets for loose change before giving me the "I'm sorry, I would but I just don't have anything" look usually reserved for beggars.  Nichoas doesn't even attempt to hide his disgust.  Kathy just hides.

Dejected and rejected, I quit.  

There's only one other way to turn a fast buck in this town and its the obvious first step on our tour...  Gold digging!  No wealthy men in sight, so we resort to the old-fashioned way.  

Our optimism was high and we eagerly anticipated the riches we were sure to accumulate. 

Unfortunately, it seemed quite a few people beat us there and cleaned it all out.  I did find some pyrite though and was happy enough to play the fool.  (again...)

Nicholas tries his hand at it... and actually comes up with a flake or two...

...which led to a crazed addiction.  Whoever said that greed was good should take a closer look at this picture.  And think again. 

Ty and I finally manage to tear Nicholas and Kathy away and we reward our efforts with some old fashioned sarsparilla soda.  Or should I say liquid gold? 

Whatever, it was damn good. 

We spend a few leisurely hours strolling through the historic park, just as I'm sure the miners did back in the day.  It was almost eerie how parallel our day was sure to have been to theirs. 

After we exhausted the charms of this town, we head back to our new hotel for the evening, that I had strongly hoped would redeem me in my friends' eyes after the last hotel.  It was worse. This was the charming picture the hotel had posted on their website, making it look all quaint, rustic and nestled in nature:

This was the reality:

What the picture doesn't show is the three lane busy intersection its sits right on, which was not *quite* how they represented themselves. To make matters worse, about a half hour after check-in the hotel manager knocked on our door to tell us the water pipes had burst and we'd have no running water after 10pm until well after we were leaving the next day.  I was just entering into my self-pitying state thinking I'd never live this one down, when he uttered the magic word that saved it all.  *FREE*  Suddenly, I was a hero and the hotel was awesome. 

We splurged on a steak dinner served on the hotel parking lot.  Food makes everything better.  Like a hug, but on the inside. 

Not quite ready to give up on our dream of early retirement, we head over to Sutter's Mill the next day.  It was the site where gold was first discovered, so we were hoping lightning would strike twice and that the stock would have replenished itself by now. 

Here I am at the exact spot of discovery.  The story of my life.  Right place, wrong time...

We resign ourselves to our current state of poverty* and are content to just enjoy the rest of the day while learning a bit more about Californian history. 

*quite comfortable lifestyle

Apparently, they had more sophisticated methods for panning for gold than we had been led to believe the day before....  No wonder we didn't find anything.

We did find the old jail cell... which is probably where I would have ended up had I lived back then.  Likely after swiping gold from the pan of whoever was dumb enough to fall for the "look a puppy!" scam. 

I found jail to be quite comfortable... if I ever lose my job, I'm getting myself arrested.

We end the day by hiking up to see the memorial of the guy who started the whole rush off.  But not before stopping for refreshments along the way.   They really make you earn your water...

We get to the top and pay our homage to Mr. Marshall.  Though really, would it have killed him to leave just a few nuggets for us? 

Thanks to his greed, we all had to return to work the next day and resume our slave- to- the- routine lives.  Hmph.

But all in all, I like to think that it was a successful weekend and I appreciate that my friends were willing to so blindly put their trust in me by tagging along without knowing what was in store.  I hope you each had fun and can't wait for the next one! 

True to my nature I was once again late in sending my father his birthday gift, so I decided the only way to make it up to him this year was to deliver it in person.  Nevermind that he had just moved to beautiful Solana Beach and that it was a good time for me to get out of town for the weekend, I was motivated only by my desire to be a devoted and loving daughter.  That's just the sort of daughter that I am.  Selfless. 

True to their nature, my Dad and Sue prepared a down-to-the-minute itinerary to ensure that I got to see the best of what the area had to offer. For not haven been given much of a choice about having a weekend guest, they certainly outdid themselves in creating a pretty phenmomenal weekend, which I should point out to them isn't doing much to dissuade future spontaneous visits...

Here's a picture of the reluctantly enthusiastic tour guides gearing up for our first delicious meal in the San Diego wharf. 

After fueling up on seafood and wine, we walk around the wharf a bit where I am able to indulge my odd fascination for bridges, even small, unnecessary ones like this one. 

The owners of these boats should be ashamed that they are sitting here docked on what was clearly the perfect day for sailing.  If their guilty conscience dictates that they hand one over to me, so be it.  I can promise you I would never step foot on land again. 

Unless... well, this sailor clearly had good cause.  Really, it got shameful.  Get a room already.

Once we were finished at the wharf, we headed over to a local beach.  It is here where I was able to experience firsthand the concept of schadenfreude...

The views here were amazing, even if the sun was stubbornly hiding behind the clouds. 

The lack of sun and warmth did not deter us from taking a long walk on the beach though. 

We even made some new friends, friends who looked quite... delicious.

My Dad and Sue take a moment to look adorable before we head home for the day.

The next morning we embark on another adventure and take a long hike along the shores of another beautiful beach.  La Jolla, maybe?  I'm 32 now, so my memory is in a rapid state of decline. 

Here I stand against the wind.... forces of nature stand no chance against me.  My hair on the other hand stands no chance against them.  I'll call it a draw.

We ran into an inquisitive squirrel on the way down to the beach.  He bores of us quickly.

I marvel at the landscape the whole way down the trail...

but the beauty of it lured me into a false sense of security and I was hardly prepared for what we'd find at the base of the trail.  Nor was my nose...

The size of the whale clearly indicated that he was still young, which only made it more heartbreaking.  The smell of the whale clearly indicated that we were a week or two too late to save him. 

The seagull was clearly marking his turf and celebrating his remarkable good fortune. Circle of life, I guess.

We ventured to a different part of the beach to escape the sadness and the smell.  I venture out to a rock island while my dad stays behind to play photographer. 

Here I try to time the surf to know when it is safe to cross back.  I had the rhythm down perfectly... but the moment I stepped in at what should have been the perfect opportunity, a rogue wave came and soaked my bottom half.  Such is my life.   

On the way back up the trail we ran into another squirrel that was more than happy to pose for pictures. 

Until I took one too many and he decided to come investigate me instead.   I booked it out of there.  I hear those buggers can be aggressive and a squirrel bite would be a hard indignity to live down. 

Perhaps out of concern for the state of my soul, my Dad and Sue take me to the meditation gardens the next day.  For a place of quiet reflection it was awfully hard to fight your way through the mob of people to see the beautiful landscaping. 

Fortunately, I beat them all off to get a few good shots.  Helps to have pointy elbows sometimes... just sayin'. 

Thinking that there is never too much of a good thing, we head off next to see more flowers.  Although of a somewhat different type of garden. 

When OCD meets gardening....

That was our last stop of the weekend, and not long after I was on a plane headed back to San Francisco.  Thanks Dad and Sue for putting together a great get-away weekend that was sorely needed! You guys certainly know how to pick great locations to settle down into!