Molly & Ginna’s Excellent Adventures

July 2, 2021

Yay! Molly arrived at our remote Ahwahnee retreat just after full-dark last night.

[I’m posting this from my iPad where I can’t control the image display size as I usually do. Sorry that all these photos are giant.]

We haven’t had an adventure together since our trip to Iceland over two years. We yacked until the wee hours and then I retired to my bedroom and reveled in the luxury of a real bed. 

You’ll never believe what we did today.

I know, I know: only yesterday I said that, as much as we wanted to go, it wasn’t in the cards. Though I did have the required reservation for entry today, those multiple-hour delays at the gate, not to mention the crowds once inside, made it sound as enjoyable as a marathon with the dentist. 

Instead, sometime before 9:00 Lulu and I drove to our selected trailhead. While in the car getting our gear in order, she checked various maps on her cell phone: our hiking route, and, out of curiosity, the traffic situation 30 miles up the road at the Yosemite West entrance. To our surprise, it didn’t look too bad, so on a whim we took a gamble and headed that way. If the wait was long, we planned to pull a u-ie and abandon the idea. Off we went until we hit the expected traffic jam. But lo and behold, ten minutes later we were in! From that point, it’s over an hour of snaking down into the valley, and, checking my gas gauge en route, I thought it would be wise to fill up on arrival. Guess what? There is no longer a gas station down there. We hoped for the best and continued, arriving an hour or so later. 

I used to go to Yosemite regularly, often multiple times a year. I thought of it as my backyard playground: camping in summer, cross-country skiing in winter, hiking in spring and fall. Sadly, I can’t remember the last time I was there, but today everything was still familiar and I even remembered the names of many of the landmarks. Here’s Bridalveil Falls and the Merced River.

Molly in front of two of “The Three Sisters”:

And an identified vista.

We spent a mere hour or so exploring the valley floor, doing our best to avoid the massive crowds, before heading up and out of the park. A short visit, yes, but so worth it. And we didn’t run out of gas.

It must have been shortly before 1:00 by the time we got back to the start of the Lewis Creek National Scenic Trail, which leads to Red Rock Falls: a 3.9-mile round-trip, according to the map. It was ridiculously hot as we set off.

After ten minutes of walking it was time for a break, so we stopped for lunch on a shaded rock in the middle of the rushing creek. 

It was a longer-than-expected walk to the falls, but we finally made it, to find the surrounding pools crawling with folks soaking and frolicking. It was tempting to leap in as well, but I opted not to since I hadn’t brought dry clothes. Hidden away behind some trees at water’s edge, Molly quickly and surreptitiously removed her shirt, soaked it in the creek, and donned it anew for a refreshing cooler, while I splashed icy water on my face and arms. Just before we climbed back up the steep hill to the trail, we had a briefly unobstructed view of Red Rock Falls, where I saw nary a red rock.

In my dotage, I’ve found that I no longer have the good balance that is required for things like my former hobby of Irish dancing and for not falling off not-so-narrow bridges while crossing a wee creek. But I stayed dry.

For Molly, a more difficult endeavor is a piece of cake. 

Safely back at the trailhead, Molly checked her phone app to track our completed route. No wonder the journey felt a bit longer than 3.9 miles.

While hiking I was thinking about my beloved Lowa boots and how loyally and comfortably they’ve served me since I bought them for my trek to Annapurna Base Camp in 2008. I’ve put hundreds of miles on them around the U.S. and beyond, and they’ve never let me down. Imagine my profound grief when, back at the car, I removed them and saw this:

Lucky they didn’t give out when we were miles from the car. How will I find a suitable replacement?

On our way back to the cottage, we stopped for gas and I was so desperately thirsty that this is what I bought to drink tonight:

I’ve spent too much time writing this. Now I’m going to go hang out with Molly.

I’m back. Gracious me. She towers over me. Either she’s growing or I’m shrinking. I think I know which it is. (I used to be taller than her not so long ago.)

July 3, 2021

It’s early morning and Molly is catching up on much-needed sleep. When she awakes, we each go our separate ways: she, six hours south to visit her friend, and I, home. I’m sad this long-anticipated trip is nearly over.

Last night after dinner, she and I took a short, steep walk up behind the place we’re staying (for my future reference, it’s the Ranch House at Homestead Cottages: a great place). Look what Molly found:

Before returning to our lodgings we took some farewell pictures of each other. Here’s Molly’s:

And mine of her:

It’s all been grand. I hope I also get to have a similar opportunity with Eleni before long.

The end.