i just want to go back to the sunny forest

I have officially started to write my thesis.

Doesn't that sound mysteriously academic and intimidating?

[photos from fieldwork]

yosemite

 

While I was out in the field this summer

(field: -noun, the mystical place where physical scientists conduct their research in the off-season)

we took a weekend off to roadtrip down to Yosemite National Park.

Yes, this place is as glorious as it looks in pictures.

(although the pictures never show the hordes and hordes of tourists and vacationers, but what do you expect from one of the most famous parks in the world)

The park itself is massive, but the most well-known and photographed part is the valley, where the Merced River has cut through the granite outcrops and meanders through meadows and woods.

There are endless trails to explore, but since we were limited to only one full day, my glory-seeking guys made the master plan to hike Half Dome. Fifteen miles, 4800 ft elevation gain, no biggie. HA. 

I am so happy to have had the chance to be conditioned for this hike (the previous six weeks of daily high elevation hiking allowed us to make it in less than half the recommended time..woo!)

It was one of the most amazing experiences of my life, but definitely the hardest physical challenge I have ever experienced.

We took the Mist Trail, which passes by Vernal Falls and Nevada Falls. 

The mist is not so welcome when you are headed up in the chilly dawn air, but by the time we were heading down in the heat of the day the thought of making it back to the mist was probably the only thing keeping me going!

 This is Vernal Falls. The trail is mainly an enormous staircase cut into the sheer granite, going around and up over the falls.

 Nevada Falls, the second waterfall on the mist trail. By the time we reached this point the sun was coming up over the mountains and making rainbows in the mist.

 

[just looking at this picture makes my legs ache]

Most of the trail goes through the woods and is gorgeous, until you reach the final ascent of death up the bare rock. My legs were falling off my body after 7+miles of huge granite stairs. To be honest, there were parts where it felt kind of like Frodo's death march to Mt. Doom.

BUT the views are worth it!

 Once you reach the flat sub-dome area, you are greeted with this:

HALF DOME!!! dundundunnnnnn
 Yes, those are people. Climbing up the cables to get to the top of the dome.

Confession: by this point I was dizzy from the sun, my legs were dead beyond any point of death they had ever experienced, and all I wanted to do was collapse and inhale a pb and Nutella sandwich.

So I didn't attempt the cables, and I do NOT regret that decision. I don't think another couple hundred feet make the view any different.

It's kind of scary how they let anyone climb up to the top, regardless of age or physical ability!

 I can't wait to go back to Yosemite and camp for at least a week or two to explore the other trails and parts of the park. I can see myself hiking Half Dome again, but it is not one of those things where you forget about the pain when it is said and done and are left with only the exhilarating memories. I definitely am going to have to let a little more time pass before I destroy that mountain again. 

the hiking profession

[view from the top of Mt. Rose, NV]

One of the best parts about hiking every single day for field work (aka literally bush-whacking through steep high elevation backcountry wilderness) is that you are pre-conditioned to tackle whatever gorgeous mountain you choose on days off. 

Our first big hike adventure was Mt. Rose on the Nevada side between the lake and Reno. 

The elevation at the top is 10,700-something feet, the third tallest mountain in the basin, but you start at 8,000-something feet so the total elevation gain isn't too extreme. Actually most of the trail is a pretty gradual incline until you get near the very top, where it is tight switchbacks that pretty much go straight up the rocks and you feel like your leg muscles are being ripped off your body and you can't possibly make it one more step even though the peak is still out of sight, but hey. That part is easily forgotten for views like these.

[Reno from almost 11,000 feet]

The only trees that can survive on these steep rocky slopes are scraggly twisted lodgepole pines. I always wondered why the latin name for lodgepole is Pinus contorta, since they usually grow straight, tall and the opposite of contorted like, well, lodgepoles, but then we saw them in their high altitude habitat.

Oh and in CA there are gazillions of super fit old people. I saw more old people out running and hiking than young people. Like, a super tan and ripped 70 year old man wearing spandex zoomed past us, trail running UP Mt. Rose. It is over 11 miles round trip. Psycho.

So basically, hike Mt. Rose if you get a chance.

Not until July though because there is tons of snow on the trail before then (although it is very fun to slide down). 

life in the woods

So I spent the last two months camping in the woods on the west shore of Lake Tahoe in a tent, and it was awesome.  California is definitely THE place to be if you are living outside for extended periods of time... dry weather, endless sunshine, minimal bugs, giant trees, hiking galore.  Coming back to the steambath of Illinois in full swing summer has been quite the shock to my poor abused body. 

I am still not sick of camping, although I am glad to be finished with shoving all food and toiletries into a small steel bear box.

le bear box

[this was taken as we were packing to leave. now imagine box chock full of a week's worth of groceries for 4 guys/2 girls. a stressful organizational nightmare]

The importance of the bear box was impressed upon us our very first night, as we woke up to find our neighbor's car windows smashed in from a curious bear investigating her empty toiletry bag on the passenger seat.  In the midwest, we have campground and park racoons. In the Tahoe basin they have campground black bears. Harmless if unprovoked, but very very annoying.  We had a running tally of about a bear a week passing through our campsite. 

I will admit that it is also nice to have unlimited showers and access to a full kitchen again. 

We woke up every day with the first light and caws of the divebombing motorcycle gang-like shrub jays and went to bed with the sun, and spent all day in remnant old growth forest on the sides of mountains measuring giant pine and fir trees like these

I ate mass quantities of delicacies such as granola bars, bagels, Nutella, m&m trailmix, mac n cheese, and chili.  The only things from that list that still sound edible are granola bars and Nutella. Ok mayyybe just Nutella.

Except for one weekend in which we vacationed from hiking and camping by driving to Yosemite to (what else??) hike and camp, we did all our work in areas around the lake, which sits right in the vertex of the angle between California and Nevada.  It is ridiculously gorgeous, blue, ice cold and completely empty in June, but full of speedboats, sailboats and yachts during the (much warmer) vacation season in July.

  Beaches+Mountains in one location=happyhappy Anna

It's almost too good to be true, except that you can really only own decent property if you are a multimillionaire.  Luckily there are several really nice lakeside state parks to camp in.  We stayed in Sugar Pine Point State Park, which used to be the vacation home of rich Victorians. The historic mansion and beach are now open to the public.  If by chance you are ever planning a camping trip to Tahoe, I would definitely recommend this park, as well as D.L. Bliss and Emerald Bay which are down the road. 

My number one tip for long-term camping: Invest in a quality air mattress. It makes all the difference.