Friday, September 10, 2010
Hwy 395: Yosemite National Park & the Alabama Hills
Yosemite National Park, one of California’s most revered hot spots, is a magical land of smooth granite domes, craggy peaks, mirrored lakes, spacious meadows for frolicking, and cute little pikas everywhere. The pikas have eluded me since early July when I was in the Sequoia National Forest. A pika would dart across the road or scurry up a tree, looking like a mouse/rabbit/chipmunk hybrid. My friends and I were obsessed with this creature, hounding rangers and locals for insight as to what this bundle of cuteness was, but nobody knew what we were talking about. I did not learn the name of this mystery animal until my trip to Yosemite, when it was pictured in all it’s cuteness in a pamphlet that we received when we entered the park. In fact, I had never even heard of a pika. Well, it’s pika madness in the Eastern Sierras. If I were an animal, I think I’d be a pika, and here’s why. 1) Pikas have big ears for their small frame. I have a big butt for my size. 2) It’s hard to tell just what kind of an animal a pika is. In 6th grade, my now best friend of nearly 20 years, used to stare at me inquisitively & incessantly. It would make me quite uncomfortable. When we became steady friends, I asked her why she was always staring at me. She replied that she was trying to figure out just what I was composed of. She thought I looked Black, Chinese, White. She couldn’t understand my clothes or my hair-do, both poverty’s doing I’m sure. (I did not have any style until about 15 years old.) Likewise, I’m sure my readers feel the same way sometimes – Crystal Lee looks like Cat Ballou today, Kelly Bundy yesterday, what is up with this gal’s style? I am comfortable being a pika. Having a diverse style allows me to better display different shades of my personality. Obviously, my clothing is not my only means of expression, but it’s probably the most fun mode.
The next day: Alabama Hills, Lone Pine
I felt like I stepped onto another planet or back in time to the prehistoric days, when I first beheld the Alabama Hills, just west of Lone Pine in Inyo County, CA. I was so happy to be with my erratically-shaped rock friends. I feel most at home in the forest or amongst big rocks. Pete is always admonishing me to be careful when I haphazardly jump and play all over rocks. I tell him not to worry because I would never fall off a rock, my calloused feet were made for such adventures!
Sierra Nevada in the background
run, pika, run.
well, friends, that's just about it for my Hwy 395 adventures. We explored more places than I've shown you, but I don't want to overwhelm you with pictures.
Ciao for now.