The Central California Trilogy – Part 1

This one got kind of big – lots of material – so wait until you’re off work and read it while you’re driving. Actually, I just counted pictures. I usually get kickback on servers that limit email size and that’s generally about 10 pictures. So, there will be a part two and part three.

First, an update on the St. Agnes ER story. Not me. I left a couple of colorful moments out. First, remember the screaming ugly Melissa McCarthy character. She said something that explained why she looked so nasty. Rolling on the floor she said, “I’ve had kids, I got shot in the face, but I ain’t never had pain like this”. Does that paint a better picture? Second – Lola, the 110 year old Brazillian dancer with the 9 inch nails. Andrea spoke to her and the first thing that struck her was the gun tattoo on her cheek. I avoided eye contact so I missed that charming feature. Finally, the Susan Sarandon person? I’m convinced it was really her – she was on Bill Maher last week and that was the same person.

And that’s that. The hip? A few days of perceived relief. We’ll revisit that in a topic this summer called ‘Adventures in Back Surgery’.

I told you this is going to be long so pull over and start sniffing glue or work that vape pen.

Yosemite – If You Have Only One Day

That’s the page we focused on Saturday. The lovely RV Park at Bass Lake provided us with a nice brochure on the area, mainly about Yosemite. Well, a couple of days after the St Agnes ER episode, raging steroids gave me the bad sense that perhaps all is well. So off we went to Yosemite.

Unfortunately, it was a Saturday – more people – and, most unfortunately, it was free National Parks weekend. Did any of you go to a National Park this weekend? Wait. If you’ve already got your 62+ Senior Pass, you’re excused for not going. That 62 Pass is the best deal on the planet. But, somehow, a million people who don’t have that pass showed up at Yosemite Saturday. A million? Well, maybe not. Seemed like two million.

The weather was perfect, mid 60’s, gorgeous day. But really, where the fuck did they come from? Yosemite is 150 miles from San Francisco. We drove 50 some odd miles through the south entrance (CA Rd 41) on a dizzying, winding road with perhaps one straight stretch of a quarter mile. Otherwise it was curve left, curve right, up 1000 feet, down 1000 feet. The road was great for a Porsche. And there were no shortage of them. But…many more Dodge Caravans ruled the road and you could finally feel for the guy and his hottie in the Maserati crawling in the conga line.

Finally, we’re in Yosemite. When you drive up from the south to Yosemite Valley, the first suggested stop on a “if you have one day” trip is Glacier Point. Oops. Road still closed for winter. Next stop, Tunnel View. Good suggestion, if twenty-two million people aren’t there when you arrive. They only have parking for twenty-two. Something like that. But, we pulled into the lot and traded our English Rosetta Stone for a spot. After feeding Luna we took our first pictures in the park.

Ok, got the jist? Waterfalls. After Tunnel View was a pullover for Bridalview Falls. We got lucky and stopped to consider what to do when somebody pulled out just ahead of us. Wow. No negotiating for a parking spot. I got a chance to try some real walking. A half mile there? No big deal.

On the north side of the road was another waterfall. I don’t know what the name was.

And then our objective, Bridalveil Falls:

This was a stupid one. I got soaked but protected the phone.

But my favorite part of walking to those falls was when I paused to sit on a rock. A family passed by and the mom said, “Look honey, the same shirt”. Their two year old was wearing a Pink Floyd shirt. I told the kid she had a great shirt, good taste. Looked at me like I had four eyes.

End part 1. Part 2 coming up.

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