A few years back, when I began my foray into photography, I “discovered” the work of Ansel Adams. Quickly falling in love with his photos, I eagerly read all about the legendary photographer, hoping that learning his thought processes and method of working would elevate my own photography. Although I can’t say this was entirely the case, I became obsessed with Ansel and his beloved Yosemite. A few biographies later, I looked forward to the time when I could visit Yosemite Valley myself.

A year or two passed and the only anecdote from Ansel Adams’ life that stuck with me was his aversion to allowing for cars in Yosemite. Ansel wanted visitors to hike into the park the same way he did back in the early 20th century. I think the reason this stuck with me was because I found it silly, a bit of an idealistic fantasy. Sure, it would be wonderful if no one drove cars and everyone hiked or rode donkeys and everything was like the old days— and no air pollution! Unfortunately, most people need a car to visit the National Parks. Sure, the Grand Canyon and Yellowstone feel a bit congested with RVs and tour buses, but at the end of the day you park your car, go out on a hike, and forget all about the traffic. Why would Yosemite be any different? And that’s exactly the way I thought, until I ended up in Yosemite on “Free Park Day” two years in a row.

Friday Night

On a dreary Autumn night, I boarded the train to Chicago’s O’Hare Airport. To be perfectly honest, I hadn’t even planned on going to Yosemite Valley. Instead, I convinced myself I’d be flying off to the Grand Tetons by way of Jackson Hole, or alternatively, to Teddy Roosevelt National Park via Bismarck, North Dakota. As a plan C, we could always go to Memphis and hit up the Rendezvous. This plan seemed completely flawless, until I went to book a hotel near the Grand Tetons.

Coming in hot at $300 per night or higher, lodging within 40 miles of Jackson Hole quickly became unreasonable for a short weekend trip. As I didn’t have camping gear with me, camping wasn’t an option. The best option I could find for visiting  the Grand Tetons turned out to be a low-grade hostel in a different state, conveniently located next to a massive forest fire. Charming.

Disappointed that the Grand Tetons were off the table, I could still look forward to T.R. National Park; photographing bison and seeing a new state would be a weekend well spent. Checking hotel prices, I found lodging around TRNP to be extremely affordable. The weather was forecasted in the 50s and 60s, which for mid-autumn, sounded perfect. Everything fell into place— all aboard to Bismarck!

Until, I tried to book a rental car for the weekend. Hertz, Enterprise, and every other rental car company in Bismarck were completely sold out of rental cars. “How!?” I wondered. After all, it’s North Dakota, not normally the most attractive tourist destination. (1) Who on earth is going to North Dakota, (2) Why?, and (3) How do they all need rental cars? I suppose, in making my weekend plans 30 minutes before takeoff, I was asking for it. Hooray for spontaneity!

With North Dakota now out of the picture, we then considered shelling out the outrageous nightly fees for Jackson Hole. Unfortunately, by the time we caved in to the point where we thought about paying a small fortune to see the Grand Tetons, the Jackson Hole flight departed.

Now it’s late in the evening and plans A and B turned into complete flops. It looked as if it would be Memphis for the weekend. We’d see Graceland, eat some good barbecue, and drink some whiskey on Beale St. Better yet, we’d spend some time at the National Civil Rights Museum and go to a Blues bar! This was all fine and dandy, until I checked the weather. Memphis had raging thunderstorms all weekend. Hooray, spontaneity!

This is how one accidentally finds themselves in Yosemite Valley on Free Park Day for the second year in a row. For those unfamiliar with free park day, but familiar with zombie movies: replace the zombie horde with tourists seeking to become Instagram famous— that’s essentially free park day.

So, at eight o’clock in the evening, we boarded a flight to San Francisco. Although I didn’t look forward to the lengthy drive out to Yosemite, I was excited to get outside and see new parts of the park. Having flown into San Francisco a handful of times to visit Sequoia, Kings Canyon, and Yosemite, I knew the best option would be to drive two-and-a-half hours east to Merced, spend the night, and then drive another two hours to the park in the morning. That way, although you miss sunrise, you avoid having to drive the full four hours and back in one day (we needed to be back in San Francisco for our return flight). What exactly we’d do in the park, I hadn’t quite figured out.

We landed in SFO around eleven in the evening, picked up “the pimp car” (a white Chrysler 300), and got into Merced by one-thirty in the morning. Too tired to even get In ‘N’ Out on the car ride, I quickly checked into the hotel room and devised a plan for Yosemite the next day. Figuring that we’d want to try to avoid the crowds in the Valley, we could either drive out to Tuolumne Meadows or do hikes on the way out to Glacier Point. Perhaps if we got lucky with a parking spot, we could hike up to Vernal Falls and then go to Glacier or Tuolumne.

Saturday

Getting a solid five hours of sleep, I groggily gathered my belongings and prepared for the long day ahead. As we missed sunrise in Yosemite, I wasn’t in any rush to get there. The only reason for getting their sooner rather than later was to secure a parking spot before all of the “free park day people” ransacked the place.

After a charming breakfast at Merced’s finest establishment, McDonald’s, we sped off East towards the foothills of the Sierra Nevada. Passing through rows of the vineyards, we eventually reached my favorite spot along the drive, an endless sea of golden wheat and rolling hills. I’m not exactly sure where exactly this is, but driving through is akin to one of Van Gogh’s wheat field series— the entire mise-en-scene has a limited color palette of beautiful gold-beige. Even if I knew where this place was, I wouldn’t share, lest this spot get destroyed by the free park day mob.

We reached the park around 11 AM. This would give us seven or eight hours of hiking and photography as long as we could avoid...

... the giant line of stagnant cars we now found ourselves in. Ansel’s automobile aversion began to make more sense.

Inching down Yosemite’s narrows roads, we quickly came to discover that unlike the prior year’s free park day, this year’s was even more crowded. The secret was out! Yosemite had been discovered!

Eventually making our way to Yosemite’s shockingly small parking lot, we took up the role of parking lot vulture. Circling round and round, we scouted out any open spot. All we need was one simple mistake, one tail light on, one open trunk, for us to strike and snag a spot. Engaging in tests of Will against fellow spot scavengers, the only thing separating this parking lot maneuvering from animalistic ritual was a David Attenborough narration. Round and round we went, staring down the competition, ever searching for that elusive parking spot.

We never did find a place to park. Instead, we parked in the “temporary” parking outside the general store. After all, we only needed to talk to a park ranger about how best to avoid the zombie, er, free park day, apocalypse. The mustachioed ranger  concurred that our plan to head out to Glacier Point would get us away from the crowds, but suggested that it would get overrun around sunset. He also told us that Vernal Falls was the most popular hike in Yosemite, so that was probably off the table. However, he did suggest driving out to Tunnel View and hiking up to Inspiration Point as it wouldn’t be as busy. He didn’t need to tell me twice: few tourists and a classic Ansel Adams spot? Sold!

Our new plan: drive out towards Vernal Falls and see if we can park. If we can, then do the hike to Vernal Falls. If we can’t, then we’d drive to Inspiration Point, then on to Taft Point and Sentinel Dome, before ending our day at Glacier Point for sunset. If we got up to Glacier Point in the early afternoon, we might even be able to park there!

Of course, I couldn’t not stop in Best’s Studio, which Ansel’s wife (and her family) owned and operated from 1902 through 1971. Accordingly, Best’s houses a number of Ansel’s original prints. With all the bad luck we’d had so far on our weekend trip, Ansel’s magnificent prints and the friendly staff truly brightened our day. Upon hearing that we’d accidentally come on free park day two years in a row, the clerk working the register showed the sincerest empathy towards us, even suggesting a few photo spots that wouldn’t have many tourists. Our calamitous weekend began to turn around.

To absolutely nobody’s surprise, we couldn’t find a parking spot near Vernal Falls and thus doubled-back towards the park exit to Tunnel View. Winding and ascending into the Sierra Nevada mountains, we gradually approached Tunnel View. In typical free park day fashion, the two parking lots at Tunnel View were jam-packed with massive tour buses. Crowds surrounded the sidewalk viewing area, future instagram models posed precariously on the stone barrier. Behold, that beautiful— definitely not harsh— midday sunlight!

Fortunately, however, there not a single person hiked up to Inspiration Point. The trail consisted of a long series of switchback turns, carving upwards along the face of the mountain. Only about a mile long, the trail gains several hundred feet in elevation before reaching the famed Inspiration Point. I recall reading that although Ansel Adams famously photographed from Inspiration Point, the views that he captured no longer exist. Lack of maintenance allowed the trees to grow and block the view. However, hiking up the steep trail to Inspiration Point, I couldn’t help but admire the view! All along the hike the trees would clear up allowing for stunning, personal views of the valley below.

Better still, upon reaching the Inspiration Point, the valley floor opened up before us. Framing the evergreen-filled valley was El Capitan to our left— the monolithic behemoth of granite protruding like an august monument from the valley below (pulled out all the SAT vocabulary there). To the right, Bridal Veil Falls trickled whimsically down the rock face while Half Dome loomed in the background. Although we hiked up for a midday picnic, the spot would make fantastic sunrise or sunset photography, depending on which side of the Sierra you’d want illuminated. That said, it’s been photographed thousands of times.

Inspiration Point lived up to its name— our day continued in a more positive direction after the stunning views from the lookout. No crowds, just a fantastic view and peaceful immersion in the High Sierra environment.

From Inspiration Point, we descended back to Tunnel View before passing through the titular tunnel (I just wanted to use the word ‘titular’). Our next destination: Glacier Point. It being three in the afternoon, we intended to park at Glacier Point, then hike to Sentinel Dome and, time permitting, Taft Point. That way, we could park our car at Glacier Point for sunset and wouldn’t have to worry about fighting instagram models for a parking space.

As was the theme that weekend, we quickly scrapped that plan for Plan B. Driving along Glacier Point Road, we found ourselves in bumper-to-bumper traffic. When we got to the Taft Point/Sentinel Dome trailhead, we took the first parking spot we could find... after being beaten to a better spot nearer the trail. Plan B went like this: hike away from Glacier Point out to Taft Point, then hike through the “shortcut” to Sentinel Dome. From Sentinel Dome, we’d run the option— to use a football analogy— and either stay on the dome for sunset, or hike down to the more famous Glacier Point.

Aside from the sparse packs of tourists hiking in the opposite direction, the trail to Taft Point wasn’t as congested as the traffic and parking indicated. The early evening sun beamed down through the leafy forest. The dust kicked up by the tourists caught the light, creating gorgeous shafts of light throughout the hike. Stopping to photograph this phenomenon, I neglected to notice the coyote that leapt onto the trail in front of us. By the time I saw the coyote, it gave us a fuzzy eyeball and vanished around a bend in the trail.

The hike was refreshing. Getting out of the city is one of the biggest draws to doing a trip like 24 hours in Yosemite, and this hike certainly fulfilled my Wanderlust (in the full, German sense). Breathing deeply through the nose and mouth, the woody, pine-tinged air filled my lungs and cleansed my soul (dear Lord, can you imagine if I had written something like that?), reminding me of that freeing sensation you feel when you’re out alone in nature. The crisp alpine air seems to fill you with a certain sensation of buoyancy, almost as if you’re lighter on your feet. Your backpack doesn’t feel as heavy and those clunky hiking boots feel as nimble as a ballerina’s pointe shoes.

Enough of this inspirational, emotional stuff— what is this, Tumblr?

Anyhow, by the time we made it out to Taft Point, the light had just begun to turn gold. Navigating around the deep and potentially lethal ravines, we tip-toed along the edge of Taft Point like a surfer learning to Hang Ten (behind the safety rails of course). Others were more daring. One friendly employee, trying to impress his boss, struck a Superman pose over the edge of a little cliff. Our newest German friends— also amazed by the Superman pose— took a more tactful approach to the edge of Taft Point. Rather than teeter their torsos over the edge like buffoonish idiots, they chose to lie with their backs on the ground and shimmy backwards towards the edge. With a quick selfie, they could easily capture the deep drop behind their head without worrying about a precarious center of gravity.

As beautiful as Taft Point was, it doesn’t offer any glimpse of Half Dome. Although El Capitan glowed with early evening light, we really wanted to see Half Dome illuminated by the sunset. Also, I needed to one-up ol’ Ansel. In order to do so, we needed to hike further East towards the famous crag.

Leaving Taft Point, one can either hike back to the parking lot and then over to Sentinel Dome or take a shortcut trail along the rim of the mountains. The shortcut shaves the hike down to about two miles and because we only had about an hour or so until sunset, we hurried down the shortcut trail. Fortunately, we couldn’t have asked for a better trail: the light streamed through the trees and not a single person trekked along the trail. For the better part of thirty minutes, we had the trail to ourselves.

Hiking past squirrels, skirting around boulders, and quickly running out of water, we were finally alone in nature. It was everything we had wished for in visiting Yosemite. Indeed, it was so spectacular that we felt compelled to sing “Uptown Squirrel” to the tune of Billy Joel’s “Uptown Girl”— Yosemite has some fancy squirrels. This of course, came at a cost. Coming around a bend and passing between two shoulder-high boulders, I was so transfixed with getting to Sentinel Dome that I failed to notice that we were no longer alone. Thirty yards out towards the rim’s edge, perched atop a spire of granite, a black bear eyed us down.

The black bear wasn’t huge— at least not as large as the grizzlies we encountered in Alaska. The golden hour sunset lit his adorably terrifying face from the side. For a wildlife photographer, the scene was simply sublime. Even though I live for photographic moments like this, I couldn’t help but be frightened— have you ever been alone in the forest with a bear around the time of year they bulk up for the winter? Yes, the bear was smaller; yes, it was a black bear; yes, the bear was completely adorable; and yes, bears don’t typically view humans as food. But if the bear charged there was no real method of escape— he’d easily outrun us and certainly out-climb us— the only escape would have been standing our ground.

Given the situation and potential immediate peril, I hurriedly switch to my long lens, of course. You could sense that the bear wasn’t looking to eat us— his gaze felt more curious than anything else (I’m clearly a bear expert). This quickly proved itself in the fact that he sauntered off behind a rock— as it typically goes with wildlife— just as I had changed lenses to capture the perfect moment. I couldn’t have been more elated, however. Despite missing an epic photo, I had my first true bear encounter (without a more experienced bear expert packing heat nearby)!

All this fun with Mr. Bear had distracted us from the impending sunset. Walking in a wide circle around the trail, we gave the bear a wide berth. We had maybe twenty minutes until the sun dipped below the edge of the Sierra Nevada mountains. Worse yet, at least a mile and half of hiking stood between us and the summit of Sentinel Dome; Glacier Point was unfortunately out no longer an option.

To make matters urgent, smoke from a nearby forest fire blocked the sun, tinging the sky shades of orange and purple. Further down the trail, the shadows cast by the trees turned green as the light seemed to red-shift before my eyes. The whole scene was completely surreal and we were missing it!

Having run out of water about the same time we chanced upon the bear, hiking to Sentinel Dome turned into surviving the hike to Sentinel Dome. Half-jogging, half-panting, we clung to the hope that the light would still be beautiful when we reached our intended destination. Fifteen minutes later, we came across a small power station (or potential ranger outpost). From the power station, we had a relatively clear view of Half Dome in all its glory. Also at the power station, a trail marker indicated that the summit of Sentinel Dome remained at least a half mile away. As the sun started to dip and Half Dome glowed like molten lava, we opted to cut our losses and photograph from the clearing near the power station.

Finding a small boulder— just big enough for my tripod and myself— I could see over alpine trees well enough to truly behold the full wonder of sunset in Yosemite. Immediately, brilliant, warm light illuminated those esteemed granite monuments. In contrast, the smoke-filled sky shifted from blue to red to purple, which provided a nice background for the orange-tinted mountains. Further along the horizon, a harvest moon glowed an intense shade of golden wheat. Photographically, the possible compositions seemed endless. One could have shot the background for Apple Computers for the next twenty OS updates.

From a human experience standpoint, we couldn’t have been more fortunate. Spending less than a day in Yosemite National Park, we had covered all of the bases. For one, we saw not only a bear but also a coyote, made some new friends, and, of course, enjoyed Yosemite’s infamous traffic. the forest-fire-enhanced sunset, coupled with a full harvest moon, was simply the cherry on top.

We hiked back, partially in the dark, to the parking lot and returned to our car. After what felt like forever on winding, traffic-jammed forest roads, we eventually exited the Wawona Highway and headed back to San Francisco. Stopping at the first visible gas station, we gleefully chugged water. It had been close to three hours since we ran out of water and I felt like Castaway.

 Sunday

Reaching our hotel around 1 AM, a California road trip necessity delayed our arrival— In ‘N’ Out Burger. Needless to say, 5 AM flight home was not so fun.