After 20 minutes, I descended into the Valley. The road led right along the Merced. Across that flowing river, mist from the 1612′-tall Ribbon Falls crashed into rocks and billowed mist outward amid trees. In that moment all I wanted to do was walk along the river and soak it in. But, alas, the ticking clock in my mind would not overpower the very spontaneity I wanted to experience. The ticking clock told me to find a parking space as close to the Mist Trailhead as possible, as parking spaces fill up fast.
So where do I park? I stopped at Yosemite Village to find my bearings. A map showed the trailhead to be somewhere else. I asked a man who seemed to know where he was walking. He did. He told me to park at Curry Village, as parking would likely still be available at 7 am. That was perfect information.
So, heeding his advice, I hurried. There was literally one spot left. Yay.
After stepping out of my Sexy Sienna, the cool air smelled of moisture and life. Such reiterated my desire to slow down my clock enough to spend a week here – maybe longer. This was almost sad to ruminate. Why experience a place like this only in fleeting moments?
However, Mr. Tummy didn’t care. My faithful travel companion spotted a open restaurant. Surely there would be eggs, bacon and maybe French toast drenched in high-fructose corn syrup. Indulgence titillated the imagination of my friend, and caused the sadness of ruminations to flee. Plus, I’d need the energy for hiking, right?
So, I went into the restaurant and ate. Thirty minutes later I was off…