Day 3 of my California adventure was all about Yosemite. (Side note: Months before the trip, while researching my options, I'd considered booking a multi-day escorted Yosemite hiking trip, but the expense would have equaled the total cost of my entire California trip (and I would have seen nothing except Yosemite), making that a no-go. So I opted for the most affordable, least panic-inducing option: an escorted Yosemite daytrip. (I was not interested in driving myself. Have I mentioned my big-city driving phobia? Yeah, I'm working on that.))
I was so excited and afraid of oversleeping that I woke up before my 4:30 AM alarm, but it was another hurry-up-and-wait kind of morning, so common while traveling. I was ready to go by 5:45 for a scheduled 6 AM pickup, but Thomas - my driver and tour guide - didn't arrive until 6:10. Right away I noticed a huge difference between this trip's tour company versus the previous day's. First of all, I traveled comfortably in the passenger seat of a small van (with ample leg room and a cup holder for my omnipresent coffee) instead of sitting at the back of a large motorcoach. And I was part of a small group, the lone American (!) among a group containing an Australian couple, a young Costa Rican couple, a Chinese family (mom, dad, and college-aged son), and Penny from London who later became my tour friend and hiking buddy. (Yay!) It was like a private tour for the cost of a big-bus tour.
Despite the brief delay, we headed up the Bay Bridge (not to be confused with the Golden Gate Bridge, as it often is) and got on the freeway. We had a quiet drive because nearly everyone dozed off minus me (and the driver, thankfully) who eagerly soaked in the scenery (scarce along the freeway). Two hours into our journey we stopped at Raley's, a large Wegmans-like grocery store, where I picked up breakfast (a tire-sized blueberry bagel and Naked green juice) and lunch (a chicken caesar salad and turkey sandwich) to hold my stomach over until our return dinner stop.
Less than an hour later we encountered our Yosemite warmup in the form of a winding, tight-turned mountain road stretching up to 3,000-feet in elevation (basically a roller coaster ride minus the upside down loop) with stunning views. For not the first time that trip, I was happy to be in the passenger seat (literally) rather than at the wheel.
Shortly afterward we reached the park entrance at 11 AM and were released for a one-hour group hike, which is when Penny from London and I became tour friends (providing unexpected company and conversation, neither of which I minded). I found out that she was visiting San Francisco for her daughter's police academy graduation. I also found out that Penny and I were tragically incompatible as hiking buddies, namely because she was winded and I was warmed up after our brief hike.
Post-hike we piled back in the van and drove to the Yosemite Lodge, making several photo stops along the route, between which I alternately inhaled my lunch and simply stared in awe. We were given two hours' free time after reaching the lodge, which Penny opted to spend browsing the gift shop. I half-heartedly joined her, though I was completely uninterested in purchasing T-shirts, mugs, and postcards (plus my luggage wouldn't allow it). After a quick perusal, we parted company and I embarked on a short, easy hike of the Lower Yosemite Falls trail. I quickly reached the falls and timidly asked a male American tourist if he'd take my photo (one of my least favorite aspects of solo travel), which he graciously did. (Unfortunately I had to delete the photos because my intended smile looked more like a grimace.)
At 2:15 I decided to turn around and return to the van for our 2:45 pickup, impulsively returning to the gift shop for a crystal necklace that caught my eye. Coming out of the gift shop, though, I became disoriented and subsequently panicked as I fruitlessly searched each parking lot for the van. Fortunately I had a park map in my backpack, so I consulted that and (eventually) realized that I needed to walk a little farther to reach Shuttle Stop 7, where I found the van exactly where it was supposed to be.
I had time to catch my breath while we waited for the Costa Rican couple and reflect during the long drive back to San Francisco. I unquestionably chose well on all counts. Our driver, unlike one for a competing tour company (whom I saw - and heard - repeatedly yell at clients to "hurry up," forcing them to literally sprint onto the bus or be left behind), was friendly and unflappable (an essential tour-guide trait). Also, the weather was perfect for hiking - 60ish and often sunny - and we avoided the Memorial Day rush, much as my group did the previous year at Zion National Park.
Between Yosemite and my SF hotel, I shared my photos with a photographer friend, who was dually impressed with both Yosemite's splendor and my cellphone camera's ability to capture it. I only had a taste of Yosemite that day, but I didn't feel cheated. More than anything, I felt thankful to be alive in such a beautiful place and better for having been there at all.
