When my Dad initially brought up the idea of backpacking through Yosemite, I didn’t take it all that seriously. I wasn’t sure how committed I would be because the idea of roughing it in the wilderness was never my idea of a good time. Eventually, though, things began to change. My dad reserved a few nights at a hotel just outside the park for all of us to stay after we backpacked through.

At this point, I had no choice but to commit. My dad had always wanted to take my sister & I backpacking in his favorite spot. He had been backpacking in Yosemite since the age of 14 (nearly 40 years!!) , and Touloumne Meadows is his favorite escape from reality.

As the dates came closer and closer, I knew there was no backing out. Thankfully, in March, during my trip through the African wilderness with Brad, I did get a little “roughing it” experience which including popping squats in the African jungle to relieve my bladder, missing entire meals, and light snacking in time of desperate hunger…. Not to mention, all those mosquitoes, which were actually worse in Yosemite.

Finally, it was prep time. We began plotting our course through the forest on our map, and shopping for our gear. We were doing back and forth trips to REI for footwear, backpacks, sleeping bags, and doing our best to take advantage of the periodic promotions to save as much as possible.

My dad kept making phone calls to the park rangers to find out about what trails were open and what was closed due to the record snowfall that they had been having last winter. He was sad to find out that the trails, Toulumne Meadows, and the roads leading to it were all closed. We had no choice but to reroute.

He kept reaching out to the rangers, in an attempt to plan our journey and to check on the snow levels… The problem was that with the record snow, our plan kept having to change. We had a loose plan to hike near Upper Merced Lake in the High Sierras, but knew that nothing would be final until we arrived.

Finally, the day was here. My dad and I headed to the airport, checked our backpacks, and brought along our carry-ons. We headed to our gate where we awaited the arrival of my sister, who was flying in from Charlotte earlier that morning & was heading on to Fresno with us. We were all tired, but also anxious to get there. We were ready to have a good time, and have a new adventure together.

When we got to Fresno, Erica (my sister) & I gathered the bags while my dad went on to collect the car. We had a red Dodge Durango that we loaded up with our gear before hitting the road. On our way out of the city we made a pit stop at Big 5 Sporting Goods where my dad picked up some fuel cans for our quick boil stoves & some emergency space blankets, just in case it rained at night (it didn’t) because we were sleeping under the stars. That's right... no tent.

We finally arrived at the park gates in the early afternoon where we paid the $40 park entrance fee, and then headed on to get our permit at the Wawona Visitors Center north of the south park entrance off of the 41. The office was a few miles up the road.

When we got there, we parked the car and all headed inside. My sister and I took turns wandering through looking at displays and keeping my dad company in the very short line. Finally, when it was our turn, we made our inquiry about getting a permit for an area around Upper Merced Lake, and thankfully, we had no issues. There was plenty of room for us in the backwoods. (You have to get permits to backpack throughout the national park, so I would advise to be checking on availability prior &/or have a backup plan.)

We all got back in the car and began our drive to our final stop, the Glacier Point lookout. I should point out, first, that the traffic in Yosemite in June is ridiculous. There were exstenively long lines of cars, and parking lots were packed. We were directed to the visitor shuttles originally, but when we explained that we were backpacking they forwarded us on to Glacier Point. When we got there, we began getting our gear in order. We changed into our hiking boots, and got our backpacks stuffed and organized with any possible necessity that we had. My sister and I made the mistake of using the bathroom before we began the journey. These bathrooms are one the most rank and disgusting things I have ever encountered. They don’t flush, are covered in every type of bodily excretion possible & smell so bad that it took all I had not to vomit all over the floor four times!!! So, in other words, if you can hold it I’d suggest a pop of a squat in the woods, ladies. It’s far more pleasant, believe it or not.

With that stinky experience behind us, we headed back to the car and got strapped into our backpacks which all weighed between 30-40 pounds. It was literally a physical burden. We made our way towards the lookout point where we snapped our starting photo in front of Half Dome & the falls. …and it was all downhill from there. …or so I thought.

The descent was pleasant. We were in the shade, the air was tepid, and I was in the company of two wonderful people with some of the most beautiful scenery that I have ever seen.

When we arrived at the Illilouette Creek, we all dropped our packs to cool off and fill up our water bottles. It felt so good to drop the weight for about 15 minutes. The great thing about the record snowfall is that rivers were rushing with freshly melted clean clear water. We didn’t need to filter or treat it. We just drank straight from the earth.

With packs back on we crossed the river over the bridge and proceeded on the trail. We made it up a couple of the switchbacks when we began to question our path. At this point, I was beginning to struggle. The uphill climb combined with the weight of my backpack was slowing me down immensely. We stopped to look over the map since the path seemed wrong. My dad & sister were in charge of directions while I was handling the photos. The general consensus was that we must have somehow missed our trail, so we headed back down to the river and crossed back over the bridge. We went one way, and then the other, but were surrounded by dead ends. My dad headed out to survey the land and search for the missing trail, but there was no sign. Our only option was to head back the same way we were going before.

So, we began to climb once again. It was exhausting, draining, and down right brutal, or as my dad just called it, “a bitch”. ..and it truly was. By the time we reached “the top” AKA Panorama Point, the lookout point that overlooks Yosemite Valley, I didn’t know how much further I could go, but I knew I had to keep going because we were nowhere near water. So after, calling our mom (I know, I can’t believe we had service either) and texting Brad, we put our packs back on and kept pushing ourselves forward, or should I say up? The views along the way were incredible. Being able to see Half Dome at sunset was truly a special moment for me.

The trail we were on was leading us straight for Nevada & Vernal Falls, which was not where we were wanting to go on day one. So when we came to a fork in the road, the map came out once more. Erica and my dad looked it over, and without certainty, mostly because of drinking water restrictions, we took the road less traveled. As we walked, we noticed a couple of spots that would make good campsites, but there was no water source. My sister went ahead to scout it out, and came back with the assumption of water ahead. We continued to trek forward with flashlights in hand because at this point we were in the dark. We found ourselves, quickly making our way back down the mountain in the dark, and slowly wandered back below the tree line. We were wandering through a "bear infested" forest in the dark. I was getting so frustrated and crashing fast. We still had not found water, and were at a complete loss. …on day 1.

I began to feel as though my body were going to give out, and knew I couldn’t keep going. We found a large clearing to call home for the night and setup camp. I’d like to say that we got it done quickly, but considering we all were exhausted, and we all felt somewhat sick, it took a little longer than planned. Armed with flashlights, we laid out our tarp, and sprawled out our gear. My dad took the initiative to start the fire, after all, he was the Yosemite expert. We gathered wood, and as he got it started I couldn’t help but stare since I felt I could barely move. I was so exhausted, in physical pain, and at this point my desires were food had vanished. All I wanted to do, all we all wanted to do, was sleep. We each took turns wandering off to relieve our bladders, and change into our sleepwear.

Once we were settled we all had two issues, a lack of desire for food, and a lack of water to cook our food. We were too concerned with the fact that we had not found water that the idea of wasting our current rations on a hot meal was unfathomable. We all settled on a small snack, and hit the hay.

As the fire began to fade, I struggled to sleep, I kept fading in and out. I was having severe pain in my chest and trouble breathing which I figure was severe muscle fatigue from my pack mixed with stress & anxiety. I couldn’t sleep and was so overwhelmed with emotion, thinking I might die in the wilderness on my first night (haha). I was ready to jump off a cliff to relieve the suffering, I knew I just needed my body to relax. As I sat there knowing that I was miles from civilization, had no way of calling for help, I did all that I could do: I stayed calm. I knew if I woke my dad or sister they would not be able to help me, so I took 3 Advil and a small sip of water, and stayed lying flat on my back, and stared up at the night sky focusing on monitoring my breathing. Within, 30 minutes I was finally asleep. Although, my painful & difficult symptoms subsided. My first night was rough. I got hardly any sleep. I kept thinking about the spiders getting into my sleeping bag, and was plagued by one pesky mosquito as the sun began to rise. It was just very uncomfortable.

I laid there as long as I could. My sister and dad finally woke up & were moving around before I could. We took our turns finding cover to use nature as a bathroom & change. We all agreed that cooking breakfast was still out of the option. We had to conserve water. We munched on some of our nuts and granola, and packed everything up. It was time to get back to the trail.

As we continued in the same direction from the night before, it wasn’t long before we ran into another backpacker. We had a very quick chat about how he hadn’t seen anyone in a while, and there was water ahead. We marched on through the forest with hope. Water.

When we reached the small creek, we all grabbed our “camp cups” , and filled up. We were basically chugging at this point. It was cold and incredibly refreshing. We were all so excited. The pep had been returned to our step.

Onwards, we went in search of a deeper stream to fill our water bottles. Within about 30 minutes we had it. Sadly, there was no shade to keep the brutal sun off of us, but there was water. We tried to find the best place to setup our make-shift kitchen. We crossed the creek one way, and then back to the other side to a small clearing. It was perfect. There was a tree to prop our packs against, and a stream just a few feet away. We were dipping our cooling towels, and constantly filling our water bottles to hydrate, cook, and clean. Our dehydrated egg breakfast tasted soooooo good, and a hot meal was a welcome treat after the last 12 hours we had had.

We enjoyed the break to play and truly reset our bodies for the grueling journey that was ahead. Our goal was to try and make it to Upper Merced Lake. Little did we know we would never make it.

With breakfast devoured and cleaned up, we strapped back in to our packs and headed back to the trail. The sun was beating down on us hard. We all re-wet our cooling towels, and had them draped all around our necks and heads, a game changer. We made our way around Mount Starr King, and found ourselves reemerged in the forest.

As we trekked on, we found ourselves, walking across large fallen trees to get across raging rivers. My sister, had a hard time with this, and several times had to have my dad help her across. Oddly enough, crossing over dead trees above a raging river with 40 pounds on my back was nothing. I’d rather do it 100 times than endure day 1 again.

When we crossed Clark Creek , we stopped for a lunch break. Tuna with avocado & mustard on pita pockets. Let me tell you… It was one of the most delicious sandwiches of all time. I enjoyed it with a side of cheese filled Ritz Bitz & a fruity snack. We soaked our feet in the creek & cleaned up our mess once again. We all had been slightly revived, and had to face the reality that it was time to move on.

We geared back up & continued to press on. It wasn’t long before we came up on Red Creek. The water levels were quite high, and so we had to wander a bit to find a place to cross. Finally it happened. We had a short climb before we rose up into a clearing which overlooked the beautiful snow covered Buena Vista mountain range. We ran into a group of people out for a day hike (from their camp), and chatted for a little while about what each other had experienced thus far. Then Erica rigged her phone on a tree so we could take a group photo before we shuffled along. As we moved on rain clouds began to finally catch up with us. It started as a light drizzle and only picked up for a few minutes. The cool water was incredibly refreshing, but did also slow us down a bit.

Eventually we met up with Illilouette Creek again, but it was much more than that. It was a raging river. We had been trekking in the rain for a while now, but as we started moving further and further along the creek, the forest floor became more and more treacherous. There were many fallen trees that had yet to be cut through, there was rotting plant debris everywhere, and I had mosquitoes biting me through my pants. I was losing momentum fast, but knew I had to keep moving & keep up with my sister… especially my sister. My dad & I were feeling about the same physically on and off for the duration of the trip, my sister on the other hand was a lot like the energizer bunny until the final day. We all did our best to keep each other going. My sister wanted to keep pressing on to the lake, but my dad & I had to persuade her to our side. It wasn’t going to happen. Instead we found an incredible make-shift campsite with a great flat spot on the granite where we were able to set up between a creek and the river.

My bodies physical pain began to melt away as I slipped my feet out of my Merrils and into my Birkenstocks. That act alone had a sense of revival in it. We took turns heading down to the creek to wash up and do some light laundry, mostly socks. We got our camp set up, collected firewood, & then began preparing for dinner. We all pulled out our dishes and sporks, boiled the freshly collected water, and poured it over the dehydrated beef stroganoff. As we let it stew, we also boiled up some Lipton chicken noodle soup. We were so excited for our dinner. We were starving and ready to get comfortable. As we sat there, we saw a furry creature run from one end of the granite to the other and then vanish into the forest. It was one of two animals we had seen so far.

We enjoyed our dinner immensely. The temperature was dropping and so was the sun. My dad got the fire going, and we gathered around with s’mores necessities. Yes, I brought stuff for s'mores, and we ate them off of sticks! The sweet crunchy gooey goodness was overwhelming to my taste buds, I couldn’t eat much, but it was fun to roast marshmallows on a stick over a campfire under the glowing stars. It brings out the kid in you.

We each enjoyed tea while we finished up by the fire. Then we brushed our teeth, and were off to our sleeping bags. I was at peace watching the stars shoot across the sky above me while we laughed and enjoyed each other’s company from the comfort of our sleeping bags. (It will probably be one of the most memorable nights of my life.) As the fire died off in the distance, we drifted off to sleep one by one. It was the only night I slept the whole night through. I was at peace on that slab of granite.

The next morning, my sister was the first up. She started the fire, and made sure we got moving. I finally had a full night sleep and slept like a baby. I did not want to crawl out of my sleeping bag despite the fact that my air mattress had deflated. Clearly, my body was able to relax enough after all of the exhausting experiences I had put it through in the previous 48 hours. The temperature had been just right to allow me to sleep comfortably without being too hot or cold. However, freeing myself from the clutches of the sleeping bag was a different story. The early morning air was chilly. I was bundled up in sweat pants, wool socks & my fleece pull over. I slipped on my Birkenstocks and found a quiet place to use as a bathroom.

We readied our small quick boilers to make some breakfast, tea and coffee. At this point, the dehydrated food was starting to wear on us. It wasn’t quite as satisfying as it was before, but our bodies needed the fuel for the day. We started packing up our gear, and as we sat on the tarp doing so a critter appeared from the forest, a marmot. It was scavenging for food, and wasn’t too concerned with getting close to us which seemed odd. In this area, it was doubtful that they interacted with humans regularly, which is why it was surprising that it was easily within 10 feet of us, sniffing around our open bear vaults, hoping to snag a prize. Slightly skittish, it kept a close eye on us. If it thought we were getting to close, it would skedaddle. A little while later, we watched it sifting through the ashes of our exhausted fire, where we had dumped our breakfast scraps, and the area next to it where we had washed our dishes out with water. That marmot ate every tiny morsel that it could get its tiny marmot lips on which was next to nothing. Off in the distance, we noticed a second marmot. It’s possible they were tag teaming our camp for food.

Finally, we were all dressed and packed. ..but our journey was different this time. I had removed the day pack that came with my back pack and filled it with our essentials. We hid our backpacks (without the bear vaults) back behind a large rock in the forest & left our bear vaults out on the main rock behind a boulder. We didn’t want to risk a bear getting into our packs while we were away, and we didn’t want to risk other backpackers getting into our bags, so everything was hidden.

We set off on our journey. We headed further back into the wilderness in search of Upper Merced Lake. We climbed over large granite rock faces with the tiniest trickles of water flowing down, along the rushing rapids of Illilouette Creek, and through the marshy forest floor. Nothing had prepared us for the wilderness we were wandering into. The forest floor was in such shambles that it was almost unbearable to walk through. Between the amount of bugs, decaying debris & the lack of crossing points for the river, we were tempted to give up the journey. …but we didn’t. We headed down river a ways and found a large fallen tree that spanned from one side to the other. Mind you, it was close to 30 feet across. We each took a turn crossing. My sister lead the charge in trying to find our way back toward the trail. We were basically in a free climb through very rough terrain, but eventually met back up with the trail. We followed it for as long as we could, but it wasn’t long before we lost it and were back on our own again.

All we had to navigate with was nature, and that wasn’t much help. The theory is that because of the large amounts of snow melt passing through the area, the trails were basically gone. We had no way of finding it. Our only option was to wing it. We were crossing stream after stream and over log after log, jumping from rock to rock, trudging over snow banks, and eventually found ourselves climbing up the side of mountain wall made entirely of granite.. Steep granite that was at times slippery. There were a couple close calls. We had come so far, and it seemed like we were continually losing hope, but for some reason we also held onto the hope, saying “we have to be close” & “we’ve come so far”. We were all feeling it, but we kept going. Eventually, we ended up on top of a mountain top… or close to the top of the mountain. We stood across from Red Peak on the edge of the Buena Vista Crest. The views were incredible You could see for miles. We could see where we came from (around Mount Starr King) over the last couple days. It was truly incredible. We found a shady spot under a juniper tree and snacked on our sustenance, nuts & stuff. We were all hungry.

We had a long journey still ahead of us, so with no lake at our feet, just a tiny murky pond tucked in the crest, we knew it was time to head back down. We quickly made our way down the granite mountain side, navigating our way over and around large boulders while hoping not to misstep. Before we knew it, we were back in the tree line. We navigated our way back through the marshlands, trying to find our way across streams and river. We would go one way, and then back the other. It was challenging terrain that we were all incredibly thankful to get out of. There were many mosquitoes that were constantly pestering us, and we just wanted to be free and clear.

On our way back to our main crossing log, we stopped off at the raging rapids plummeting over the small waterfall. We grabbed a couple of photos, and then it was back to trekking. It truly was trekking. The floor was treacherous. The goal was not to misstep… not to scrape your leg… not to walk into a large spider web… because there is no way to call for help should something be broken, you fall into the rushing freezing river, or better yet, you’re unconscious or dead. WooHoo!!!!

Finally after weaving our bodies over and under fallen trees, we followed the river quite a ways. There was concern we had passed our crossing-log. We didn’t it was just a little further ahead. My sister led the way, I followed, and then my dad. We were making our way back quickly. We kept going. I kept swatting away mosquitoes and we searched for the trail we had lost hours ago. Within minutes, we were back on track. We hustled our way back to our packs, grabbed our gear, and headed to the opposite side of the river, on a clearing just down the way from where we slept. We found a great spot where the water was shallow & the raging water slowed to a safe pace allowing us to wade in slowly and soak our aching feet, refill our water, and clean our dishes. We set up for lunch which was a mix of snacks, tuna, and whatever else we felt like. We were famished, and downed our lunch quickly in between soaking our feet on the shallow granite shore of the rushing river, as we tried our best to regain our energy.

Once again, it was time to put our hiking shoes back on & strap into our Gregory backpacks. We filled our water bottles & headed back the way we came to the North West. We knew exactly where we were going to camp, just on the south side of Clark Creek where we had eaten lunch the day before. We pushed ourselves hard that afternoon. It was a lot easier to make the journey without the rain, fatigue, and inclines. We were moving quick when we came face to face with a dear on the path and watched it until it pranced off. Once again, I didn’t have my camera out and ready which was disappointing, but it was okay. I enjoyed a beautiful & serene moment while wondering how long it would last & how close could we get before it left us.

In the last 24 hours we had seen more wildlife than people and we were okay with that. It was great to have a break from people, an opportunity to truly connect with nature. We came to the intense river crossing once again, and waited as my sister kept stalling her crossing. I couldn’t take it anymore. I cut the line and went first. My dad helped her across, and we finished out our trek for the day. Finally, early that evening we reached our campground, found what seemed to be the clearest spot, and did our best to make it even clearer by shifting small rocks & moving the bigger rocks over by the already built fire ring. We laid our tarp for the last time and strategically placed our sleeping bag, my dad & I at opposite ends, and my little sister in the middle. Everything was laid out as we wanted it. Our pillows were placed at the top of sleeping bags which laid on our inflatable mats. The knives laid by head and the tarp was lined with a border of Off! (the bug spray). Our backpacks were propped up against the adjacent tree, and our bear vaults sat by the fire ring.

We took turns by the river washing up and changing our clothes into our sleeping gear. The water was freezing, but it felt good to wash away the sweat. When we were ready we wandered the campground to gather firewood. My sister took charge of the fire while my dad took some time to rest. She became very proud of her ability to start fires on this trip, but this one wasn’t taking off the way she hoped. We were all involved. …naturally, my dad was the one who got it going.

With the fire burning, it was dinner time. We opened up our bear vaults & sifted through the food. It was Chili Mac night. We lit up the quick boilers and heated the correct amount of water for two packs of food. We let it sit until it was ready and split it up amongst the three of us. The only problem was… none of us had much of an appetite. Two days of grueling activity and dehydrated food are just hard on the body & on the digestive system. We all ate as much as we could, but then decided it was time to clean up. We dumped the remaining food into the fire, rinsed the food bags & stuck them in our ziplocs , then my dad and I washed the bowls a little ways away, and we all reconvened by the fire. As the sun was setting we had a lot of fun talking and taking group photos. We drank tea & tried to relax.

Once again, it wasn’t even completely dark when we nuzzled into our sleeping bags, but it felt good. It was cold that night, and for whatever reason I was struggling to sleep. In fact, I barely slept (my tea was probably caffeinated, haha). I was so cold. Sleeping without socks this night was a mistake. However, it was the only night that I got my air mattress pad to stay inflated the entire night, so that was a win. As I laid there frigid, tossing and turning, I kept trying to sleep. It felt impossible. I couldn’t shake the concern for bears and spiders as I laid there cold and almost shivering. Looking back, I wish I had made an effort to find my socks, but in the moment it felt far to overwhelming in the cold darkness.

The next morning, we all slowly woke up. But, of course, my sister was the first up, eager to start the fire. We all gathered around for our last breakfast. A mix of random things from our vaults. We didn’t even bother with trying to eat the freeze-dried stuff, we could barely stomach the thought of it. We all had uneasy stomachs & a long journey back to the Yosemite village area, so we went light.

After we had our eclectic breakfasts, we headed back over to our sleep spot & started packing up. Within 20 minutes we were ready for the final leg of our great excursion. We made sure our fire was out, and headed back across the river in the direction we came barely more than a day before.

The final leg was rough. It was hot, we were tired, had uneasy stomachs, and were all ready to drop our packs for good. We were sluggish but pushing our hardest to make it through. We took a different route than we had before, and it was paying off. It was a little shorter, but a good chunk of it was in the hot sun. We had our last water fill in a small creek near the back of Kings Peak, and pressed on. We went up and over & found ourselves at the lookout point facing the back of Half Dome near the falls. We were so excited. We finally had cellphone reception to call my mom to let her know where we were and where to meet us.

We thought we were almost done. My dad had made it sound as if we would be down and out within 30 minutes, but it took us at least 2 hours, maybe 3. Honestly, I think the end may have been the worst part simply because of the amount of tourists that we came into contact with. First we headed down a long paved trail that took us from the lookout point down to Nevada Falls. This part wasn't too bad because it seems fewer people decide to go past Vernal Falls. We then had to cross the bridge over Nevada Falls to begin our next decent down steep rock steps. Thankfully, the traffic was still mild.

We continued down and along the given path until we hit flatter ground and the next bridge where we also found the crowds.... We continued on the trail which was a little tricky to find at first because the large space was packed with sunbathers and families. We made it to the railed in stairway down which was incredibly steep. The further down we got the more people we were coming into contact with. Here we were walking along massive water falls on rock steps that were completely lined with tourists that half the time didn’t seem to be fully paying attention. After over 72 hours in the wild without a real shower, sweating, drinking river water, and not having a hot fresh meal, the last thing you want to deal with is mobs of people who could care less about about your sleep depravity, aching feet, and bruised torso. #respectthebackpackers Its hard to slow your momentum on your downward climb of massive rock steps, so it’s incredibly frustrating when you have people just coming out of nowhere right in front of you.

When we reached the south side of Vernal falls, we were soaked. Vernal Falls is the one you have to look for! It was like my encounter with Vic Falls. There was so much snow last winter that the snow melt was now raging over the cliffs and was drenching every person that was bold enough to pass through. It was 100% unexpected, and although it wasn’t ideal, I still sort of enjoyed the cool down and the little bit of peace that it brought to my soul. …but then came the traffic jam. The rest of the way down had the largest amount of traffic, at one point there was a small mob where it seemed no one could move. It’s how I imagine a New York department store during Black Friday. …awful. Finally, we made it to flatter grounds, but it just kept going. The paved trail just kept going. It was cloudy & damp, my poor dad was lagging behind, and my sister was really worn out. I was on my second wind with the thought of being done. We all just wanted to reach the end.

When we did cross the final bridge and made it to the road, we headed to the bus stop where the line to get on seemed a mile long. We called my mom & found out that there was no way for her to get to us. We came to the realization that the only way this was going to work was for us to take the bus into the village & meet her. However, the traffic in the area was so dense that buses were not running on time, were taking alternate routes, avoiding stops & doing whatever they could to keep things moving as efficiently as possible. I think just our bus ride took nearly 40 minutes, and it wasn’t the most enjoyable. We all got separate seats and I was freezing as I sat next to a stranger in my damp clothes looking and possibly smelling like a trainwreck. Haha. We stayed in constant contact with my mom, and rearranged our plans in an attempt to meet sooner. Finally, it worked out. We got off the bus with our packs and headed her direction. We got into her rental car, where she greeted us with cups of chili, soups, salad & drinks… She had literally read my mind in some magical mom way because earlier that day we had all been talking about what we were wanting to eat… mine was a salad. Thanks, Mom!

Our day still wasn’t over though. We had to drive back up to the Glacier Point Lookout in order to get the other rental car. It was probably another hour and a half of driving before we ever got back to the hotel. It’s safe to say that shower was one of the best of all time.

...to be continued

ISSUE 42: Yosemite National Park, CA 2017 (The Backpacking Issue)