Showing posts with label nature. Show all posts
Showing posts with label nature. Show all posts

Sunday, January 8, 2017

Blondie’s Reflections in Mirror Lake – Yosemite National Park

Blondie’s Reflections in Mirror Lake – Yosemite National Park June 2016


This past summer I took a break from the book writing and marketing journey and took my family on on another adventure of a lifetime exploring five national parks. Here is quick story about the first day we went to Yosemite National Park. If you'd like to keep up to date with my book journey follow my free newsletter full of updates and freebies here.

Late June, 2016

The mountain air was dry and crisp as we packed the car with our picnic. My husband, three kids, mother-in-law, sister- in-law, and I had been eager to explore another of our magnificent national parks. A few years ago we explored the wonders of Yellowstone together and had been truly a magical experience. See my two blogs here and here on that amazing trip. Okay, that is partly a lie. Six of us were giddy with excitement. My son was being dragged along for the experience. What he really wanted to do was stay in the cool, bug-free basement of the cabin we’d rented just outside of Yosemite and alternate studying science and playing games with his friends online.


We had jackets just in case the weather app lied again. A few days prior it promised cool temps at Sequoia National Park, but was a big fat lie. It was 90 degrees and we managed to hike with jeans carrying our jackets and sweating profusely. This time we wore shorts and tank tops expecting the heat despite the promised high of 62. In Yosemite Valley, a cartoon of a blazing sun and 97 degrees posted on the information center board told us what we had in store. We jumped on the shuttle to Mirror Lake Trail that was only two miles, just about the right length for Shorty to not completely suffer, with the added bonus of a cool lake at the midpoint to cool off.

The bus had standing room only but that wasn’t so bad until the second stop where a sardine can-esque scenario ensued. Poor little Shorty was smashed in the front with me. To our chagrin, an enormous man got on the bus squeezing in the last possible space right between us. It wasn’t too bad until he lifted his arm to hold onto the railing on the ceiling giving me a front and center view of something that still haunts me -- a glaring red rash and loads of armpit hair. I peeked around the fuzz and made a face at eight-year-old Shorty. She looked terrified. I couldn’t help but be grateful for the fact that it was the beginning of the day and the potential for fresher air was still at hand. The Scottish word ‘oxter’ rolled around in my mind endlessly until he got off the bus with gobs of other park-goers to allow us to sit in a diseased-armpit free zone.

At stop number seventeen we exited the bus and we joked about it being as crowded as Disney, not exactly what we had expected. One of us had the bright idea to wait a few minutes to let the hordes of people from the bus meander ahead as we enjoyed the gorgeousness of the giant white pines, and redwood lined path calling out to us. When most of the crowd was out of view, we started along the path following Tenaya Creek.  


About a mile uphill we came to a clearing with magnificent views of Half Dome and dozens of people swimming in a calmer area at the head of the creek. The water widened to a narrow lake with stunning mountain views all around. You know me, I was itching to get in that water. We shucked shoes and crossed a small stream to get to what used to be the middle of the lake, feet squishing in the ice-cold mud.



Years ago, they dredged the area to create a lake that would mirror the mountains, hence it’s name. As the years passed they made the choice to stop dredging and let nature take its course. Now it sports two small halves of a stream with an island in the middle. 

We waded across the water braving the bone-chilling temps with little Shorty thigh-deep complaining of how much it hurt her little bones. My ankles were screaming to get out of there but my mind told it to hush since the water was so refreshing. The two men folk wanted a longer walk so they walked around the lake, or so they said. Truth be told the boy didn’t want to wade through the water. We reunited with them about a half an hour later as they sloshed through lake. I recognized the steam coming out of my son’s ears and his hunched body language letting me know to tread carefully. He emerged from the water shoes still on his feet and a seething hatred for all things natural, despite his love of science. Turns out the path around the lake was blocked and they had no choice but to wade through the longest part of the lake.  


We made our way back down the path along a tree-lined road with the boy doing his best to swat every flying insect within a ten-foot radius of his delicate “I prefer the indoors” and “haven’t I been put through enough today” self. The rest of us were in heaven with the huge trees creating dappled shade (might I add desperately needed shade) and fresh air. Living in Dirtville, any trees are a welcome sight, but these were magnificent giants bigger than any trees I’d ever seen. My sister and mother in law, two very well-traveled ladies, were greatly enamored with the stunning views of sheer granite cliffs above us and occasional burned out forest as we walked.



We stopped for lunch back in the village after another crowded shuttle ride, but absent offensive body parts in my face (thank God) and spent some time in the air-conditioned Ansel Adams museum and other stores. The hardier folks in our group (and more nature loving) went on another hike as my beautiful darlings ate ice cream in the cool bug-free zone.

I sipped on coffee and discussed twitter pages of the politicians running for President with my son, who critiqued their worthiness on twitter. His analysis: Some were more genuine than others, and one definitely had a staff member do all the social media posts. At least I could talk to him without the incessant question of ‘couldn’t we walk faster’ or ‘when are we going home’ inserted every other sentence. The poor boy was just not cut out for the rest of his nature-loving family. He should have raised by a pack of nerds.  

After buying Shorty a cute stuffed black bear at the grocery store we made our way out of the park snapping pictures of Half Dome, El Capitan, and the enormous cliffs. About a half hour out of the park it was 105 and ridiculously hot. Our rental home was down a long dirt road deep in the woods where the devastating effects of the 5-year drought and an infestation of a beetle that targeted smaller pine trees left as many brown trees as green ones. The boy immediately retired to the cool solitude of the basement to recover from his torturous day out in one of the most spectacular National Parks our country has to offer. The rest of us retired to make dinner with cold white wine in the delicious air conditioned upstairs to make dinner and talk of our adventures of the day.



I counted my blessings to be surrounded by family in such a spectacular place in the world. How was I so lucky to be able to afford this vacation and the love of such amazing people? I hoped my kids would realize what a unique adventure they had just experienced and maybe even bring their kids here someday. I felt sorry for the people who were raised by a pack of nerds and never venture out to experience such stunning nature and, despite the crowds, a national treasure.


Please see my post about the Petrified Forest National Park here, Blondie in the Crystal Forest for more of our amazing California vacation soon. If you like my writing feel free to check out my books here. 

Thursday, October 11, 2012

Blondie in the Pond -- Winning




Blondie in the Pond 
Listen to ‘Blondie in the Pond’ on Audioboo

I am sitting here in my wet bathing suit waiting for my turn in the shower after an amazing water filled day. We're in Maine for a week with our best friends and collective kids -- three boys and two girls.

Today we went for a picnic at Lily Pond just south of Bar Harbor, or as the locals say 'Bah ha-bah.' After a short walk down a wooded path we found the long expanse of the pond stretched before us -- all 3/4 mile of pristine Maine beauty. Not a single house was in site, nor any man made structure. Simply trees, rocks, and water -- glorious water.

Lily Pond, near Bar Harbor, Maine
My four year old daughter, Shorty, and my friend's three kids wasted no time getting in the water. My son hesitated on shore not sure if he wanted to get his feet wet. Was he related to me? Clearly he did not inherit my love of water. The fourteen year old identical twins were throwing a ball to Shorty and their sister, a 10 year old water bug.

The adults arranged all the paraphernalia on the beach -- chairs, blankets, snacks, and gear for the canoe. I stood there marveling at the view before me -- I had to get my feet in the water. I dumped everything I carried, kicked off my flip flops and squished through the muddy debris strewn bank.
I wiggled my toes in the water. Was it warm enough for me to swim? Warmer than the ocean but not as toasty as my southern roots would have liked. The sun was shining, the air was seventy-five degrees . . . it was possible.

I wiggled my toes in the water.
As I debated I noticed Michael and Cassie, my friend's kids already about 1/4 mile away swimming across the lake. I could see their blue and white life jackets in contrast to the dark water. A pang of jealousy hit me. I wanted to be neck deep in the pond.

Ian, the other twin, was eyeing his brother not wanting to be outdone. "Hey, do you want to swim across with me?" I asked.

His face lit up. "Yes." Including that exchange he'd said maybe four words to me the entire vacation. It was all I needed because I knew no other adult was able do the mile and a half swim. I was his only hope for catching his brother and 'winning' yet another competition.

I grabbed my goggles and steeled myself for the plunge in the cold water. His brother and sister were almost out of sight in the distance, just two small dots in the pond. They didn't know we were coming. I got to the point of no return where your bathing suit is still dry and you've not committed to anything yet. Surely if the 10 year old could swim in this icy water so could I. 

"You're coming right?" Ian asked with a tone of panic in his teenage voice.

In reply I dove in the cold water trying not to to scream like a little girl in a haunted house. After a few minutes of panting I warmed up and settled into the swim. "What if we saw a moose drinking on shore?" He asked."That would be so cool."

"Hopefully we won't see a bear." I am a strong swimmer but no match for a bear, especially if I had to protect Ian in the process. Rather a funny thought since Ian was four inches taller and outweighed me by a good twenty pounds.

This critter could ruin the whole day. Could I out swim it? 
I marveled at the eye level view of the pond surrounded by gorgeous trees on all sides. We continued to swim with Ian excitedly talking about the high school cross country team he was trying out for and his other summer plans. He probably said more words to me on this swim than he had in the 14 years I had known him.

About a half hour into our swim our friends showed up in the canoe. "How are you doing? Do you want to get in the canoe?" His mom asked Ian.

"No. I'm great." He was slightly out of breath but swam with gusto.

Shorty was in the boat too. "Hi Mom." She gave me a tentative high five.

My son looked at me like I'd lost my mind. "Hi Mom. Exactly why are you doing this?"

I laughed and marveled at how different we were. "Because it's amazing. Why don't you jump in and join us?" 

He had spent every second with the boys since our arrival in Maine, but this was one adventure he was going to pass on. "You couldn't pay me enough." He was right. It was just not his thing.

Ian's mom OK'd our progress so we continued on our quest. Our prey was in sight now. Close enough to hear, but not to make out what they were saying. They stuck out of the water with their life jackets making more work for them. The two reached the end of the lake and began swimming towards us and after about ten minutes they passed us. We kept our cool and casually said hello not letting on about the secret race.

After an hour and twenty minutes we were 1/4 mile from where we started and the two kids were about 100 yards ahead. I looked at Ian assessing his reserve. He was a strong swimmer and seemed to have a lot left in him. He reminded me of a race horse waiting for the jockey to let him loose for the finish. Just a few words to release him and win today's round of the endless competition with his brother. "Do you think we can catch him?" I asked.

He reminded me of a race horse waiting for the jockey to let him
loose for the finish.
Clear blue eyes stared back at me. "Go for it! I said. It was on like Donkey Kong with Ian's determination fueling him. His brother, used to their competition, was not going to make it easy for him. But for the moment Ian had the element of surprise.

I pulled my goggles down over my eyes and followed him in a sprint switching to freestyle for speed. I felt the adrenaline kicking in allowing me to push harder despite the hour plus in the water.
It wasn't long until Michael saw Ian splashing towards him and realized he was about to be ambushed. He tried to pull off the life jacket but it took too long. He abandoned it and began sprinting despite the bulk. Another ten minutes and the boys were battling it out near shore.

A few bystanders moved aside and watched them finish the race. Ian beat Michael by a few feet just before the shoreline. Both boys fell to the grass out of breath. Cassie followed close behind and I joined her. Ian looked at his watch. It took Cassie and Michael two hours to leisurely swim the mile and a half. Ian and I conquered Lily Pond in an hour and a half.

The race was on!
The boys talked excitedly as we picnicked on the grassy bank. Shorty hugged me glad to see me again and the canoers told us of their adventures. My son was happy to have the boys back on dry land and on his turf again.

Ian may have won the race but nobody enjoyed the experience more than I did. My thirst for big beautiful trees, and my heaven on earth of being in the water was quenched for the day. Tomorrow we're heading to Cadillac Mountain where the boys' competition will continue and this race will be forgotten. I, however, will cherish this memory for years pulling it out and caressing it as needed through the long cold winter. It will also serve to dampen my torment when I have to return to dirtville at the end of this vacation with no decent body of water for hundreds of miles. I may have finished last in the race but I am without a doubt the winner! 


If you like these Maine pictures check out a few more here: http://fineartamerica.com/profiles/kj-waters.html.


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When I'm not working on Stealing Time you can find me on my social media at the links below. I hope to have my novel completed by spring 2013 with book two close behind.