Please read part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9 and part 10
It was heaven on Earth. Yes, it was my heaven.
The mountains rose above the horizon scraping the blue sky with their snow white peaks. Green trees decorated Mother Nature’s naked skin like how silk on a woman would enchant almost any man.
It was like a dream coming true.
I remember, as a kid I used to marvel at pictures printed in many periodicals, especially the one with the yellow frame. The pictures of gullies, of rivers, of mountains never failed to mesmerize me. Perhaps, this is one of the underlying reasons why I side with the green against the grey. It is the urge to see the beauty of the world left almost untouched by our fouled hands. It is the urge to save them from those hands so I and many others could savor it.
Call me selfish for wanting it the wilderness for myself or for the like-minded persons, like how John Muir was stamped by his rivals. But I am proud to be selfish because it is this selfishness that will save the world from destruction. It is this selfishness that will save us from the real selfish bad guys.
Now, instead of marveling God’s creation through third hand works, I was up high with the mighty Sierra Nevada conquering the eastern view. The joy of being up high in the mountains alone, being able to be personally in the pictures I had once seen before, to be at the places of beauty was immeasurable. It was the joy that helped me suppressed the hunger that was taunting me every now and then.
Never in the past had I imagined of being here at any moment. My life then was mundane. But at that particular moment, I was there. I was right there, dashing any past thoughts of impossibility.
And something came to my mind. The Alps, Sahara, Andes, Gobi. It must be possible but one thing stopped my train of thoughts. Borders. Countries. They offer restrictions on movement. The disdain of that restriction is another reason for me to support globalization – a method to dissolve those borders so not only capitals could be moved any where, so I could walk any walkable land under the blue sky. After all, there is only one sky. Why should there be so many lands?
By now, it was probably more than 24 hours since I had last consumed any nutrient. Considering how my muscles were aching, I started to realize how badly I needed to eat. I suppressed the hunger by filling my stomach with pure, unfiltered water.
The view to the scenic Sierra Nevada at this moment was blocked by the conifer trees as the trail veered from the river, passing thru the forest, heading towards the Meadows. The trail had also widened from about one or two to possibly five feet.
Several times, I went to the side to steal a breath and often times ended up robbing the whole air to sleep. While I was resting under a tree beside the now-dusty trail, the three Americans that I was initially racing with passed me by. They acknowledged me. Perhaps they knew that I was exhausted and gave me a word of comfort by saying “You are almost there”.
Apart from the knowledge that there was food at the end of the trail and the promise I made to Epol about catching up, these three hikers were another reason why I managed to go on. The thought of a friendly race was just hard to shake off. But once they were off my sight, I never saw them again.
Sometimes, it is amazing how a stranger could have a direct effect on oneself.
Sometimes, it is simply remarkable how memory could directly affect oneself. I’ve come to realize that I am taking too much time to finish this sort of travelogue. The first episode was first written in July 2003, a few days after leaving California on a jet plane. Six months later, I am still writing about it.
The fact is, I simply do not know and do not want to know when to end this recollection. I don’t want to end it because it just brings back a delightful experience to me whenever I try to write something of it. Ending it would be similar to murdering a close imaginary friend.
After the rest, the hike was uneventful until the trail actually hit the Tuolumne Meadows save one small stream that I had to cross. But When the end of the road was near, its arrival was brilliant. The forest gradually became thinner and finally gave up its territory to the low grasses. The altitude decreased slightly and there, the Meadows stretching as far as the eye could see.
Everything was flat and grass was everywhere. More importantly, it was the first sight of civilization in almost four days though admittedly, the sign of civilization was merely a paved road far across the green-yellowish Meadows. I saw nothing of as large as the settlements in White Wolf.
Confidently I hastened my pace, ignoring the thirst and hunger that plagued me. Minutes later, I saw a cabin and immediately got excited. Unluckily, that cabin was a museum and worse, it was closed. Nevertheless, the civilization of the Meadows was not far and so I strived for it. Along the way, I saw a variety of wildlife that I haven’t seen before. They were mammals, some were rodents with long body, but the prominent fauna was a kind of deer. I spotted a few of them running around happily from one point to another. Pity the camera was not with me.
Somewhere in the middle of the open flat space in the high country, a stream ran through. There is also a spring named Soda Spring. The name of the spring is no coincident, it is naturally carbonated. As I would learned later, Epol actually drank the water from the well, thinking of the word Coca-Cola instead of the compound made out of one carbon atom fused with three oxygen molecules. Served him right for leaving me heartlessly behind. Hah!
As I was getting nearer to the end of the Meadows, I started to see metal lions, hearing metal roars from ahead. I saw cars parked along the road and for the first time, I was glad to actually hear the internal combustion engines roars that have caused so much trouble to the world. I tried to quicken my tempo even further but alas, with depleting energy, I could only go so fast. With my backpack becoming heavier, my hike was reduced to a crawl. Not literally of course.
It was well pass noon and the Sun was high. I could feel the heat burning my skin but at that time, my skin had already been burned. No way could it be burned more.
Each step meant one step closer toward a victory for physical self-determination. In my head, a small voice shouted “You did it!”
Or so it seemed.
As I was walking steadily toward the paved road where dozens of cars parked along the sides, I saw no building at all saved the cabin, which was a good mile or so behind. The dearth of human made structure made me to suspect something was wrong.
To be sure, I came up to a lovely couple and asked them where the visitor center is. And to my horror, it was another 2 or 3 miles down the road.
Life is a cruel joke, back in Yosemite in my case in particular. First it was the late delivery of the backpacks. Then it was the security checkup at Detroit. And then, it was the case of being alone high up in the mountains without food. And now, after all the sweated hard work, the silly strive and the sheer determination, at least two more miles had to be endured.
Life is cruel indeed. At that time, life was very cruel.
When I asked the question to the couple, my face must have had shown the fatigue I was suffering. Along with the sweat and burned skin, I was breathing heavily, at times it seemed that I was famishing for air.
A thank was all I could present them amid the huge discouragement.
Just as I was about to make my step for the visitor center located somewhere far, far away, the guy asked me whether I was okay. I replied yes, trying not to bother the couple’s holiday. Not two steps later, that guy’s girlfriend (or wife, I don’t know) asked “Are you sure?” I merely confirmed my first answer, while deeply touched by the couple’s concern.
After answering her, I thought I had heard the last of them. But bless their soul. About 30 or 40 steps later, the guy ran up to me and offer me water.
For crying out loud, he offered me water!
I must have had looked terrible, like a stranded tourist in the middle of the merciless Atacama. I laughed as loud as my weak stomach allowed and again politely declined his offer. Perhaps he thought I was really in awful state of which I was. Unsatisfied with all the no’s I had given him, he presented me an offer that I could not refuse – a ride to the visitor center in a car.
“A ride to the visitor center? I don’t wanna ruin your-” I stopped and think.
Fortunately for me, despite my growling stomach and weakening focus, my mind was still crawling faster than my mouth.
“Yes, that would help a lot.”
His girlfriend smiled upon my almost concurrent no and yes. Immediately, they led me to their vehicle, took my backpack off my back into the trunk and let me sit at the back leathered-seat. During this time, the stream of cool air from the car air conditioner swept passed my face and god, how ironic for me to savor it while being a green. It reminds of me of the environmentalist’s curse; like a winner’s curse, a guilt that could never go away.
We engaged in a conversation but most of the time, I was practically near drowsing. The two miles journey, what could be a two-hour hiked became a five-minute drive. You couldn’t imagine how thankful I was to the couple. They simply smiled upon seeing me being elated by their sincere service.
How the world would be a better place if everybody were them.
Upon dropping me off at the Tuolumne Meadows Visitor Center, we exchanged goodbye and wished luck to each other. Once they had left, I was standing alone there, knowing what I wanted to do next – lunch, or dinner however you want to look at it.
