Sorry.... Wow!

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Geo: 37.8772, -119.727

Today was the day we had both looked forward to with a mixture of apprehension and excitement. We were going to make Stacey's lifelong dream come true and embark on the great American road trip. We picked up the car with only a short wait, and then sat in the car for a good five minutes trying to work out how to make it move. After wrestling with the stick, pulling on the steering wheel and a lot of huffing and puffing, we eventually realised that we needed to press the brake before the car would allow us to push into drive mode. Once we had that licked though, we were off into the Monday morning madness of San Francisco. Armed with a sat nav ap and a vague walking knowledge of the area, we managed to make our way through the City. The only problem was Stacey's command of the brake pedal. To say she used it forcefully would be an understatement. Every couple of seconds, when the bizarre San Francisco traffic lights jumped to red, Stacey would press "lightly" on the brake, causing mild whiplash to us both and send our heads perilously close to the windscreen. Fortunately, after a few "sorry"s we managed to make our way out of the steep streets of the city and onto the gleaming Bay Bridge, and out towards our final destination, Yosemite National Park.
Switching the car stereo to all-American radio, we were treated to country music as we navigated and negotiated the highways of California. It was not a particularly scenic drive initially, and we passed through several Stepford Wives style towns with identikit houses clustered around industrial areas. However, the banality of suburban life soon began to give way to more striking scenery and we were transported through acres of farmland with the mountains of our ultimate destination looming on the horizon. Driving in America, with its automatic cars and cruise control, can be a mind-numbingly boring experience. Fortunately, after two hours of multi-lane highway driving, we reached the main road into Yosemite. Suddenly the road began to twist and turn, and the spaces became wide open, with the mountains beginning to appear around us.
We decided to stop for lunch in the sleepy former gold mining town of Mariposa, a one street town, the last before entering the valley. Here, the gold mining heritage has been kept alive and kicking, with saloon doors to enter shops and wooden buildings reminiscent of any great western movie with wide verandas and covered porches. We stopped for lunch at a traditional American diner. Much like the one we visited in San Francisco, this had red booths and bar stools and a real film-set feel to it, but without the staginess of the San Fran homage to kitch. This was a bona fide diner, complete with local workmen ordering burgers and fries with an egg over-easy. The food was so-so, but the authenticity of the surroundings made it special anyway. Once again, the service was great and we left with full belies ready to tackle the final leg of the journey to the valley floor.
On leaving Mariposa, it wasn't long before the speed limit slowed us right down, and the road became a single lane. The road meandered along the course of an almost-dry riverbed, while huge granite walls towered over us. The entire journey along this section of road was punctuated with cries of,"Wow!" - neither of us could believe the scenery was merely the outskirts of the national park. Lush green pine trees provided a canopy, contrasting with the white and grey granite monoliths that rose up sharply from the roads. We had to stop the car on more than one occasion simply to get out and marvel at our surroundings. Looking through the car windscreen and windows, it was difficult to get a real sense of the scale of the breathtaking scenery before us, and so by getting out of the car, we were exposed to the full jaw-dropping 360 degree panorama and were dwarfed by the mountains around us.
Throughout our journey, we had kept ourselves amused by playing the number plate game. In the USA, every car has the name of the state that the car was registered on the number plate, usually accompanied by a picture or logo representing what the state is famed for. Naturally, this lends itself very well to becoming a collectors' game and then into an obsession. We found that trucks were the best way to get a true variety of states, since the majority of cars seemed to be California based (most likely 50% of them were hire cars from San Francisco - it appears to be a very popular route!). Once we made it to our destination, it became even easier to find a wide range of numberplates and we now have 31 of the 50 states collected. Hopefully as we move further east, we will be able to accumulate some of the more eastern and Southern states, as these are currently evading collection!
Anyway, I digress. We arrived at our destination, Curry Village - a combination of pre-erected tents and rustic cabins, which could not be in a better location on the valley floor. Curry village originated in 1899, when it was founded by David and Jennie Curry. It was originally called Camp Curry and it was set up for everyday visitors to have a vacation and a restful night's sleep at an affordable price, while having the opportunity to explore the valley. Now it has grown to be a full sized resort. Restaurants, a pool, bars, shops and a purpose built "amphitheatre" (the Colosseum it ain't!), the village still provides affordable accommodation for those who who want to experience the thrill of camping in one of the most beautiful and serene locations in continental USA, but without the hassle and discomfort of real camping. It also provides the opportunity to sleep under canvas without running the gauntlet of attempting to book one of the campsite pitches for a spot in summer. To do this, you must be online on the day of the dates being released and be prepared to book months ahead, if you get a space at all.
We were met by Mr Camp, whose day I significantly brightened simply by virtue of being named Miss Turner (still official on the passport) - apparently he is a very big Johnny Depp fan and it made him think of Pirates of the Caribbean. He gave us what he deemed to be an excellent cabin, and we were free to go and check out what was to be our home for the next three nights. On exiting the reception area, we encountered Mother Curry, the camp's mascot, dating back to the nostalgic high point of the camp when nightly balls were held; Glen Miller and his orchestra even visited Camp Curry in its vintage heyday.
Our rustic tent was situated near the bathrooms and car park so convenience-wise it was great. However, the real deal-maker was the view on exiting the tent dance we had dropped in our bags. Directly ahead of the tent doorway was Glacier Point. To our right as we walked along to the recreation area was a panoramic view encompassing the iconic Half Dome - the inspiration behind the North Face logo and Stacey's dream vista. The tent was surprisingly better than we had expected. Three beds, including a double, a safe and the all-important bear box. Bears in Yosemite can be a real hazard and threat, not only to the humans but also to themselves. Due to people's carelessness with food, these animals have come to associate any habitation within the park with easy feeding opportunities. This leads to problems, as the bears can become aggressive, and then have to be shot. They can also be killed by traffic when making their way to inhabited areas of the park looking for easy pickings. For this reason, all food and cosmetics need to be locked away in a bear-proof locker outside the tent. Bears have a sense of smell that is 7 times better than that of a blood hound and can detect food in any form from huge distances away. They have also come to associate shapes of canisters with food and often wreak havoc on vehicles within the park when trying to access a rogue apple in the boot, or a cool box left out on a back seat. This is taken very seriously within Curry Village, with fines in place for the consumption of food in any accommodation areas and for anyone leaving bottles or food packages in their cars.
We left the tent behind and set off to explore our new environment. The site really did have everything we could need and we soon found the pizza terrace, with sweeping views of the surrounding landmarks. We met two Americans, who live around 2 hours away and often come to the valley to hike. They informed us about the highlights of the area and gave us a sense of what we needed to see. They also let us know that some of the usual hotspots of the park (Yosemite Falls, Mirror Lake, to name just two) were completely dry and not worth the hike out to. This was a stroke of luck as now it enables us to visit the stunning areas without wasting time on disappointing sites. California is experiencing a severe drought this year, and many of the water falls here rely on early snowfall from the spring. This year, there was only 30% of the usual snow fall and so many of the falls are bone dry.
The terrace was a stunning location to sit and enjoy a cold drink, with a backdrop straight out of an Ansell Adams photograph. We then went for a wander around the outskirts of the camp to familiarise ourselves with the shuttle service and sorry ding meadows. As we stepped through the car park (searching for new numberplates), we stumbled upon two buck deer grazing on what grass was left there. We then followed them out of the car park to the meadows outside and spent time watching them with the majestic mountains rising behind them. They were not perturbed by our presence at all and it was a magical moment, watching these elegant animals up close. When night fell, we headed to the amphitheatre to enjoy a film under the stars. The film was a collection of memories of staff from the 1930s to 1960s at the camp, when the car park would be flooded in winter to provide a skating rink and people came from miles around to witness the nightly Firefall.
It seems incomprehensible now that such an event should have taken place, much less that it happened nightly for almost 90 years. Once darkness fell, tourists and locals alike would gather in the car parks, on the roads, in the meadows - anywhere that they could grab a space - to witness the spectacle. An initial message would be relayed from Camp Curry to the people high up on Glacier Point, who would yell back, "Hello Camp Curry!" The command would then be yelled back, "Let the fire fall!" At this point, staff from the camp, who had been up at Glacier Point all afternoon creating slow-burning embers, would push the burning embers over the precipice of the mountain, creating a curtain of fire which then fell down the mountainside to the valley floor. This event captivated the people who came to visit and became one of the enduring memories of people who holidayed and worked in the area for years after witnessing it.
The film was an excellent introduction to the valley and the camp, and enabled us to get a real sense of perspective about the history of the place we had chosen to spend our time. Following the film's ending, we headed to the grocery store to buy some snacks for dinner, which we sat an enjoyed al fresco on the terrace. Suddenly, we realised that we were not alone. A raccoon came scampering over the tables towards ours, snuffling around at our feet and enjoying the free buffet of food that had been gradually dropped over the course of the evening. Hoovering up a few tasty morsels here and there, he finally hit the jackpot, knocking a styrofoam box of leftover burger and hotdog onto the decking, which burst open revealing treasures he could only have dreamed of. He grabbed an overly-large portion of what was inside and scurried off into the night.
At this point, we headed back to our tent, ready for the quiet time of the evening. All residents have to be quiet between 10am and 6am, so we headed to bed, ready for an adventurous day exploring some of the more challenging trails in the park tomorrow. We fell asleep to the lilting tune played by the cicadas, under a thin layer of canvas separating us from the nature we had waited so long to be a part of.

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