Parks, Bars, and Hoodoos

The end is nigh...

Day 9. Miles 3,987 – 4,311: Groveland, CA to Reno, NV

Tall pine trees and an abundance of granite and granodiorite greeted our eyes as we wound our way into Yosemite National Park. The road twisted and turned through forest and cropped out occasionally for an overlook. Wildfire scars marred the trees and patches of grassland. There wasn't much to see for the first hour or so. And then we rounded a turn through a tunnel and the entire landscape changed.

We were suddenly in Yosemite Valley beneath towering sheeted granite cliffs. The sun reflected off ice and snow and gave the entire valley a glow that was amplified by the quartz and micas in the rock itself. Rivulets of water swirled under the hairpin road and careened off the sheer rock face to join with the meandering river below. In every direction waterfalls from melting snow jetted off the cliff edges, and thunder from small congregations of falling rocks echoed long after they deposited themselves firmly atop fans of their predecessors at the valley floor.

Limiting ourselves to four to five hours, we circled the valley loop scouting for potential hikes. We parked at the village and tried our luck finding maps in the visitor center, where a friendly ranger recommended either the western trail to Vernal and Nevada Falls or the Glacier Point (Four Mile) trail, which was closed at mile 2.8 due to snow.

Noting that the Four Mile trail looked steeper, ascended more quickly, and was relatively short, we decided on that route. We looped around the valley again and stopped on the south side at the trailhead. The first mile or so was paved at a relaxing grade through forest, with occasional breaks in the trees to take in the valley below. Soon, the trees disappeared—not because we were above tree line, but because the trail emerged from the valley and latched onto the side of the cliff, where it switched back steeply and continuously for the remainder of the 1.8 open miles. We moved quickly, passing almost every group on the trail with us (about four) before reaching a peaceful west-facing outcrop with spectacular views of Half Dome and the western valley, and the gate that restricted access to the remainder of the hike, which, after a short water and photo break, we scaled and carried on up the trail.

Perched on a rock in front of Half Dome (photography by Matt Hawrylak)

At first the trail continued in its fascination with switchbacks, and with increasing amounts of snow and ice, each new turn presented a series of footing challenges.

Matt takes a relaxing stroll on one of the less icy portions of the cliff trail

But after winding up through a forested break in slope, it came out on a cliff exposure facing east before turning west to resume the gentler grade of the first mile through tall pines to the valley rim. The view from the top, with Half Dome, Mount Lyell, El Capitan, and all the other landmarks of the valley and plateau in plain sight, was perfectly spectacular. The sun shone from the south and illuminated the Sierra Nevada as far as we could see. The valley whence we came, 3,200 feet below, was shaded but the river was visible by the clear path it cut through the forested floor.

The High Sierra from Glacier Point

We ate lunch but did not linger, as we were already behind schedule with the additional hiking we’d undertaken. We began a rapid descent, stopping only to take pictures of the sun setting over the valley.

Looking west over Yosemite Valley

We made it back to the valley floor just as the sun was setting. The 9.6-mile hike (the Four Mile trail is actually 4.8 miles) took us just under 6 hours and left us thoroughly tired and ready to relax. Unfortunately, as the eastern passes through the Sierra Nevada were all closed, we had to drive back out of the park and 150 miles north to I-80 and another 150 miles to our intended stop, Reno. We drove up California Route 49 through the westernmost extent of the Sierra Nevada. It was windy and snowy, and a little frightening at times, but eventually we made it to a Super 8 on the south end of Reno and promptly called it a night.

Day 10. Miles 4,311 – 5,012: Reno, NV to Rock Springs, WY

This is where the trip started winding down. It was cold, windy, and there wasn't much to see alongside the highway. We drove and drove and drove across Nevada and Utah, through basins and ranges, hitting the Bonneville Salt Flats late in the afternoon. The reflections were surreal, but because we drove across the top edge we barely got the sensation of intense isolation the flats are so often reputed to purport. Still, it was photogenic.

Bonneville Salt Flats with the railroad in the middle ground

We passed the Cedar Mountain Range just before sunset and navigated into Salt Lake City as the sky was darkening.

Cedar Range south of I-80

We stopped for some delicious and filling Chinese food (and Asian beer, which was a new experience for me) at a thoroughly locally-involved, Reader’s Choice award-winning restaurant outside downtown called Sampan before getting back on 80, climbing through the Wasatch mountains and up onto the Laramie Plateau in Wyoming. We made it as far as Rock Springs before deciding to turn in.

Day 11. Miles 5,012 – 5,515: Rock Springs, WY to Rapid City, SD

We awoke to a fresh coat of snow, a delightfully low below-zero temperature, and a clear blue sky. As we drove out of town, we spotted some rare Kelvin-Helmholtz cloud formations (the ones that look like waves), and we knew we were in for a windy day.

We drove along US 30 (could’ve taken it all the way back to Ohio!), stopping briefly in Rawlins to check out the old State Penitentiary (aka Wyoming Frontier Prison). It was nifty, albeit closed, and it was interesting to read about the history of the institution. It was completed in 1901, which seems recent, but as a New Englander, I often lose sight of the fact that the West was still very much a frontier at the turn of the last century.

Downtown Rawlins, WY

Wyoming Frontier Prison, Rawlins

We took a hard left at Rawlins and ascended further onto the plateau between low mountain ranges. The roads got icy, visibility dropped to next-to-nothing, and blowing snow recreated Antarctic conditions to an astonishing degree. All while the sky above, when it appeared, remained blissfully blue.

Clouds envelope mountains under a blue sky on the plateau

Just a short while (literally, 10 minutes) later...

Accompanied as we were by numerous trucks, the drive was thoroughly harrowing and mentally taxing—at the time, that was probably the longest I'd ever unbrokenly concentrated on anything—and we didn't get to see much of Wyoming because of the conditions. But as we passed Lusk and headed into South Dakota, the sky and the road cleared, and the remainder of the drive was a pleasure.

We swung up through Wind Cave National Park, where we stopped at the visitor center only to determined they were closing for the day (it was after 4:00 pm at this point and, on an unrelated note, still below zero), so we scheduled a cave tour for the next morning and we carried on our way up past the yet-uncompleted Crazy Horse Memorial, which, while intriguing, was a bit expensive for our tastes. It also appeared and felt much more commercial than I think it should have and was overall somewhat disappointing. We continued through Hill City and up to Rapid City, where we found a hotel and deposited our belongings. The proprietor recommended to us the Firehouse Brewing Company as a place to whet our collective whistles, so we found our way downtown to the pleasant themed establishment. The beer was quite good and the food was definitely satisfactory, and, it being a Sunday evening, the place was relatively uncrowded. We stayed for a while and chatted briefly with the bartender before heading back to the hotel and resting up.

Day 12. Miles 5,515 – 6,383: Rapid City, SD to Iowa City, IA

We checked out and made it to Wind Cave, so named because of its ‘breathing’ to equalize internal and atmospheric air pressure, in time for our scheduled tour. Because we were the only ones present, we got an extended tour from the guide, a young, knowledgeable geologist. We learned all about the history of the cave, some of the mineralization taking place, the impressive boxwork features, and the continued process of exploration (in which Matt and I both swore to come back and participate) in the 140-mile cave (currently, placing it at the densest and 6^th longest in the world). I bought a woefully outdated cave map for inspiration, hoping that eventually I’ll get far beyond the 1.5 miles or so we explored on the tour.

Wind Cave has some of the most extensive boxwork deposits in the world. These features are formed when host rock (limestone or dolomite) erodes away and leaves more resistant calcite vein deposits.

We chatted with the rangers on duty for a while. The day was quite quiet in terms of visitors, presumably because it was a very cold Monday. Soon enough we were on our way. We didn't see any bison (another well-known feature of the park) on the natural prairie on our way out, but we did get to drive through the Black Hills and buzz Mount Rushmore, which I found a little unimpressive—the level of skill it would have taken is quite incredible, but I just thought it would be… bigger.

Another granite batholith! Oh, and those face things...

We headed back to Rapid City and then headed east, stopping briefly at Wall Drug before heading just a short ways into Badlands National Park. We encountered a wolf in the grasslands who didn't seem too bothered by us.

A wolf warily eyed us before deciding we weren't worth the time 

Suddenly, out of the prairie rose a complex series of buttes and pinnacles. We came to a small parking lot with some informational signs, where we hopped out and hiked a short trail up onto and around the hoodoos. The setting sun provided a beautiful backdrop against the loosely cemented fluvial sedimentary features, and I think I almost broke one trying to get a picture from up high.

Sun sets on the resistant sand and mudstones at Badlands National Park

We turned around and headed back for the freeway, where we remained until we were too tired to go on and we found a hotel somewhere in Iowa.

Day 13. Miles 6,383 – 6,920

We woke up late and headed for home, figuring we only had 8 hours of driving ahead of us. We didn’t account for the fact that a pretty massive winter storm had hit Indiana over the previous two days and their entire highway department appeared to have decided to take that time to go on vacation.

We hit ice on the roads just a few miles into Indiana. At first it was manageable, but the closer we got to Indianapolis, the worse the roads became. We were driving on inches of solid ice, much of it very smooth. We were traveling at 25-35 mph and hoping that the trucks buzzing by at 45 didn’t lose control and crash into us. I was trying my best to keep the steering wheel perfectly steady, because the slightest movement sent us drifting. We passed by at least 5 accidents in progress and counted upwards of 40 cars and trucks on our side of the highway between Veedersburg and Crawfordsville. There was color-coded tape on the mirrors of crashed vehicles, clearly indicating that nobody was coming out here with a tow truck until this stuff cleared up. We didn’t see a single snow plow, salt spreader, or other winter service vehicle, and it got so bad that we decided to get off the highway and try our luck on backroads in the hope that driving on less consolidated snow/ice would be much better than driving on the solid, compacted ice on the highway.

It was. We navigated route 32 between I-74 and I-65 and it was much more comfortable. There were still 4-6 inches on the road, but it was softer and the traffic was much lighter. There were some frightening moments when we had to negotiate some gentle hills, but relatively speaking, that segment was rather pleasant.

Eventually, however, we had to find the highway again and head toward Indianapolis. I-65 was ever so slightly better than I-74, but it was still a thoroughly unfortunate experience. After we passed through Indianapolis and found I-70, we saw salt spreaders—three of them, driving in a flying V and spraying the road. We tailed them for a little while, just for the sake of not having to concentrate so heavily, but the road cleared a bit and we navigated around them. Soon, of course, we were back to solid ice, but it was patchy now rather than continuous. Oddly enough, as we got to Richmond, IN (right next to the border of OH), the road began to clear in earnest. We stopped for some dinner and drove back to Columbus with ease, arriving after nearly 12 hours on the road, the majority of which, it seemed, were spent in Indiana. Just another example of how, given the chance, the Midwest will grab hold of you and resist all your efforts to release yourself.

The End

Notes

Somewhere in my calculations, I've misplaced 300 miles. According to the odometer, the whole trip was 7,219.2 miles. Some time, when I'm feeling motivated, I’ll find the rest of them.

I find this style of travel incredibly frustrating. Don't get me wrong—I had a blast, and it was fantastic being able to see so many things and go so many places. I was lucky enough to be on the road exploring for over 300 hours straight. But I can't tell you how many things I added to, rather than subtracted from, my mental bucket list. I've been to the Grand Canyon, yes, but now I want to go and backpack to the bottom. I’ve seen the Painted Desert, but now I want to spend a few days or weeks just exploring it. I've gotten the tiniest taste of some of the best wine country in the world.

This is the same way I feel about museums. Whenever I visit big cities with good museums, I only ever have time to go through them in hour or two increments. I went through the Metropolitan Museum of Art and the American Natural History Museum in two hours each. I went through the Field Museum in one hour, and I went through the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston in 45 minutes.

There is so much to see and learn that these lengths of time are never enough. This is why I prefer to move around a lot and live in different places rather than simply visit them. I realize I can’t have my way all the time, and I've accepted this, but this basic problem is a driving factor in my life goals. I crave information and experience, and I will continue to seek it.

Thanks for reading!

~Andrew