Trip to Yosemite

So we took a trip to Yosemite!  It was amazing.  We were there for basically a long weekend last weekend.  We stayed in what has historically been known as The Awahnee Lodge but for trademark reasons is now known by the much cheesier name of the Majestic Yosemite Hotel.  Here we are testing the furniture during check in to make sure it meets our exacting specifications: 

After checking in on the first day, we headed directly out to hike.  Because it was February, not many trails were suitable for walking due to snow and ice.   Luckily, the Mirror Lake trail just steps outside of our hotel was open for business.  So we loaded up all our toddlers and all our gear and put them in backpacks and carried them down the trail.  

It was a glorious hike along Tenaya creek and up to Mirror Lake (a misnomer, it's really just a wide spot in the creek) and even further to Snow Creek. 

Because of all the snow and rain lately, the creek was deep and raging.  So many giant boulders. Much water.  It reminded me of North Carolina, which few things in California do.  

The whole way we were deep in the valley with towering rock cliffs with veils of ice on them on either side.  It was the classic "Yosemite Valley" experience where you just look up anywhere, just anywhere, and see something that makes your heart swell with gratitude to be alive.  

We hiked around eight miles that first afternoon.  We just kept going, enjoying everything so much but also forgetting about certain individuals who were riding on our backs.  About a mile or a mile and a half from the trail, as shadows were growing long in the valley,  Wessy started to wail.  We fed him, we held him, we sang to him, all to no avail.  He just kept crying NO MAMA NO NO.  We eventually figured out that his little hands and feet must be cold.  He was just wearing tennis shoes and no gloves.   We were so wrapped up in our hiking (and also were keeping ourselves warm by moving around) that we didn't realize how cold he was getting in the backpack.  We hustled back to the hotel as fast as we could and took a warm bath and ate bunny crackers and everyone's good spirits were restored.  

That night, we ate dinner at a cheesy restaurant at Yosemite Lodge but the beer was great and there was a warm fire, so all in all not too bad.  It was fun to see all the people there enjoying our national park, even in the middle of Winter.   The next day, Agenda item #1 was to get Wessy some warm boots and mittens, so we got some at the little outdoor store in Yosemite Village.  We also took care to enclose him completely in this little Swiss ski suit one of Stevo's colleagues gave us.  Behold, the warmest little cargo in all of Yosemite Valley:

The second day, we did yet more hiking.  In the early part of the day, we hiked up the Vernal Falls trail as far as we could.  After maybe a mile and a half it became treacherously icy so we turned back.    Interestingly (horrifyingly?) many of the trails in Yosemite were paved over in the 1950s and 60s.  This was one of them, which made the experience a little different, more touristy maybe, than it would have otherwise been.  However, it was still stunning and again, seeing the creek completely raging was awe-inspiring and a little scary, particularly with a toddler.  One would think that hiking and camping with a toddler would be great because they could run around outside and burn off energy, but in Yosemite, it was nerve-wracking.  Everything was close to a cliff or a body of water or a campfire or something else that Wessy was just really, really drawn to run towards at any moment.  Thus, he stayed in the backpack.

After returning from the Vernal Falls hike, we then hiked up the very steep Yosemite Falls Trail and were rewarded with many views: 

Given his new cocoon situation, Wessy was much happier camper on the second day: 

That night (Sunday) we tried to eat at a pizza place at Half Dome Village (formerly Curry Village).  However, in the winter it was only open on weekends.  That is another thing about Yosemite in the winter--it is so lovely with the ice and snow but it does have kind of an eerie air to it.  Summer is definitely the high, high season for Yosemite Valley, and so when we were there, a lot of things like the platform tents and the campgrounds were mostly empty.  The advantage is that it is far less crowded.  Apparently last year saw FIVE MILLION visitors to Yosemite Valley, the most ever.  

Thinking back to my summer adventures in Yosemite Valley as a teenager (I thought about it and I literally visited Yosemite for the first time 19 years ago...yikes...how is that possible...I thought it was four or five years ago, tops), I remember how crowded the Valley was.  I remember driving around with all my Scouting Outward homies and enjoying the chaos and the fun of having all those people from all over the world gathered together in such a beautiful place.  I also remember ducking out of the hot summer sun and into the cool crafted-stone lobby of the Awahnee to use the bathroom and thinking that staying in a hotel instead of a tent while visiting Yosemite was weak.  Welp, that's me now.  In my defense, I don't think we would have stayed in a hotel if it were summer but tent camping in the slush with a toddler was more than we were up for at that juncture.  

The next morning, we awoke to a fresh snow in the Valley.  Wessy has technically seen snow before as an infant in Tahoe, but I can't say he's actually TOUCHED snow before.  He was enchanted.  Despite some challenges with walking in his snowsuit, he was game to explore the winter wonderland outside our door:  

Well, turns out there was even more snow to be had--A LOT more.  We took the free shuttle to Badger Pass ski area where there was an eight foot base and more falling every minute.  The Badger Pass Ski Area is an old timey kind of ski area.  It is small, with only a few lifts, none of them high speed.  The lodge is small and basic.  But it had a historic charm.  People first went up the area in the 1930s and skied on the actual Badger Pass.  There were no ski lifts then--people just put skins on their wooden skis and trudged up the hill after every run.  Given that we had Wes, skiing was out of the question, so we went on a ranger-guided snowshoe walk.  It was beautiful and amazing and the ranger (Gena) told us all kinds of interesting things about the flora and fauna and history of the area.  

After the ranger walk, we headed out on Glacier Pass road on a little walk of our own.  As you can see, it was very exhausting.  Snowshoeing in the snowy forest was such a sublime experience and I'm grateful that this winter was snowy so that we were able to enjoy it. 

The next day, we decided to head back up to Badger Pass for more of the same.  It was a much sunnier day and we once again enjoyed a family snowshoe walk.  We intended to go to Dewey Point, but quickly realized that that was an unrealistic plan given our slow pace and the need to catch the 2pm shuttle back to the Valley.  So we walked as far as we could walk and then turned back, enjoying ourselves immensely along the way.  

That is, when we were not sleeping.  

After our walk and our trip down the mountain, we hopped in the car and were back in San Francisco not four hours later, including a stop in Merced to fetch Bubba, who had been staying with some awesome friends of ours.  It's crazy to think that the Yosemite of my childhood, which was such a special place to me that it was almost mythical, is actually a weekend trip from where we live.  

Being back in Yosemite with my own family after enjoying as a child/teenager with my own parents and siblings was a treat and I'm so glad we got to make the trip.  I fear that the Yosemite of then is gone and won't come back, for a variety of reasons (overcrowding, climate change, the inexorable march of time, etc.) but the Yosemite of now is still pretty special.  I don't know how much Wessy will actually remember from this trip, if anything, but I'd like to think that something of the experience is going to stay with him in some way.  I remember my parents taking me hiking, and me "hating" it for so long--only to turn around and try to do as much of it as I could in my adult life.  So who knows how these things work.  I'm just happy we were able to go as a family.  

Gnome on the train

Spark SF

Chip off the ol' block

Ramen at mission bay

a whole 15% of a decade old!

When I was little my dad used to couch every birthday in terms of decades.  Like, if I was turning five then he would say, "Wow! A whole half-decade old!," etc.  Well Wessy hit the big oh-one-and-a-half a few days ago so I thought i'd dust off this here blog to write about it.  Fair warning,  right now both of my little guys are sleeping but we are on the clock, people, so don't chide me if this post ends in mid-sentence.

Well...what can I say about Wessy at 18 months?  The problem is not that there isn't enough to say, it's that there's TOO MUCH.  WAY TOO MUCH.  He's a little chipped-tooth tornado wrapped in dirt. He walks and talks and drives a hard bargain.  He is so so so busy.  One literally cannot look away for a second and expect him to still be in the same place.  He is a big fan of blueberries, pizza, books and motor vehicles and cares not a whit for his potty, being told what to do or having any sort of hygiene or grooming activity imposed upon him.

He is becoming more and more verbal, to the point that there is some legitimate two-way communication going on here.  One can ask him questions to which he will sometimes reply SI or NO (more often the latter).  Last night he told me he wanted AGUA before bed and then when I gave it to him, drank it thirstily.  When I ask him if he wants to eat, he runs hungrily to his high chair.  When I ask him if he wants to get on the potty, he says NO NO.  Apropos of that, I was recently trying to get him on the potty and I started with my usual used-car pitch: "Wessy, if you go poo poo in the potty you can have--" "MOCHI!!!" Note that his understanding that he can get mochi for using the potty correctly is still theoretical in nature.

Last night, we were playing in his room when a great idea occurred to him.  He turned and walked out the door, pattered down the hall to the kitchen and stood by his high chair.  He looked up at me with his most earnest face and said, "ELADO?" (helado=ice cream).  I looked at him and said, nah Wessy, it's late. He looked back at me, changed his tone to a slightly more persuasive one and made his second offer, "ELADO MAMA?" I'm a well-known alcahueta (according to Geraldine) so I hooked him up with a few spoonfuls of ELADO.  I'm gunning hard for Favorite Parent.

Also in the excellent parent category, I'm starting to let him watch short snippets of cartoons or youtube videos of trucks here and there if I need to accomplish something.  Last night, I discovered the crack cocaine of little boy TV shows: Bob the Builder.  This show features anthropomorphic construction equipment acting out fairly primitive narratives.  The episode we watched featured an excavator who was sad because the ground was slippery and it was hard to dig.  I selfishly let him sit mesmerized in my lap for ten minutes because I wanted the cuddles and he literally never ever sits still without a bribe on board.

  When it was over, I turned it off and he looked at me gravely with a hint of alarm and said UH OH!  I told him we were done with Bob the Builder for now.  He looked at me seriously and said bluntly,
 "Bob Builder."  I said we were done and he looked at me with concern and repeated, "Bob Builder."  I said nothing and he repeated louder "BOB BUILDER!" As my dad would say, there was much weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth upon the curtailment of Bob Builder.  This morning he has been repeating Bob Builder like an incantation.  I must be careful not to abuse the power of Bob Builder.

Another recent development is Wessy's newfound but deep and abiding love for PIZZA.  He learned the word a few weeks ago and is not afraid to use it.  When he sees the boxes of frozen pizza in the freezer--"PIZZA!"  When walking by the oven, caressing it gently--"PIZZA!"  Watching people in restaurants eating their food as we pass by--"PIZZA!"  He was recently in the middle of eating some egg noodles for lunch one day and I asked him, "Wessy do you want some more noodles?"  "PIZZA MAMA, PIZZA." Ok, lovey, I think I'm getting the picture here.

His current favorite activities are riding his PATIN!, going to the PARKY (or better yet, riding his PATIN to the PARKY), stomping in mud puddles (irrespective of whether he is wearing his new and much-loved blue BOTAS!), meddling with an increasingly resigned Bubba and "reading" books, whereby he recklessly pulls books off the shelf, flips through them manically to find pictures of cars, then yells CAH! and discards the book.

He still smells of milk and hay, which makes no sense since he has no contact with either of those things but I love it anyway.  When I do our evening routine of him laying on my chest to fall asleep while I recline on the couch, the first five minutes are usually an inventory of my attire and all my body parts.  First he grabs the lapels of my vest and announces triumphantly "ECO!"  (chaleco=vest), then pats my sternum vigorously saying "ECCHO" (pecho=chest), then shoves his fingers up my nostrils "MOCOS!!" (mocos=mucous), then pats me on the head "EZA" (cabeza=head), then lastly will pull my hair, "PELO!!!"  Yep, all present and accounted for.  Another recent bedtime habit of his, acquired from his father, is wanting to be petted.  He will often grab my hand and guide it to his hair and mime stroking motions so that I get the drift.  There is approximately zero chance he won't wind up exactly like his father, who is a black hole for being petted and needs back rubs like he needs water.

His 18 month appointment is coming up and I'm eager to see where he falls on the growth curve.  If I had to guesstimate I'd say his weight and height are barely pushing the tenth percentile but his head is probably 75th percentile plus.  I always buy shirts that have buttons in the back or on the shoulder for precisely this reason.  He's also up for some S-H-O-T-S which haven't been too tough in the past, but then again he's never been this big or wily before.  Well, little buddy, we may live in California but we're not nuts so you're getting them anyway.

And now, what you were all looking for in this post anyway:









Aaaaaand now I hear the familiar strains of my little bear waking up...time to go!