In the (Yosemite) Valley
From the beginning of our travel planning, Phil made his ultimate destination known: he wanted to go to Yosemite National Park. For years we had watched stress-inducing documentaries like Free Solo, where we attempted to calm our rising blood pressure by reassuring ourselves that the man who climbed El Capitan in Yosemite with NO EQUIPMENT does in fact survive because he is in this documentary. Somehow, that knowledge did little to calm my nerves as I watched what could only be described as the most picturesque horror movie I had ever seen.
Apart from sweaty palms, the film did also gift me one thing: a desire to see the incredible sheer cliff face of El Cap. From the ground. You climbers do your thing, just please for the love use equipment.
After driving the winding roads into the Yosemite Valley, the trees opened to reveal heaven on earth: an emerald green valley surrounded by stark grey cliffs and plunging waterfalls. Not just a climber’s paradise, but a respite for all who come seeking a peaceful, undeveloped corner of the earth rich in resources and natural beauty.
Since we were arriving in spring, many of Yosemite’s remote corners were still shuttered due to snow, so we stuck to the main trails off the Yosemite Valley. We hiked close to Yosemite Falls and enjoyed a leisurely stroll through the lower part of the valley where we soaked up the views of Half Dome, Yosemite’s other famous structure shaped as the name suggests.
After a gorgeous day in the park, we made our way north for 3 solid hours on incredibly curvy roads that can give even the strongest of stomachs a touch of nausea. We finally tumbled out of the car & I kissed the ground (figuratively, didn’t the pandemic teach you anything?). Now it was time to hope & pray that we could find a campsite for the night. This was the first night that we had not booked anything…primarily because we waited too late & they were all first come first serve at Folsom Lake State Recreation Area in Folsom, CA.
Once we secured a campsite (& congratulated ourselves on avoiding the $8 fee we would have paid if we had been star students and booked in advance), it dawned on me that Folsom was an interesting name. Could it be that this town was the namesake for Folsom Prison Blues? With the limited cell signal I had, I typed into Google: Where is Folsom Prison?
Not only is Folsom Prison IN Folsom, CA, it is located right on the edge of Folsom Lake. Less than a mile from our campsite.
Bears AND escaped prisoners who shot-a-man-in-Reno-just-to-watch-him-die?!
Spoiler alert: Much like the star of Free Solo, we are here to tell the tale.