I knew that to some that was a foolish and insensitive question to ask, and that I should make my priority being at my wife's side throughout her pregnancy. But for Shelby things had been pretty smooth, and her doctors continued to affirm that she looked right on track for her due date and both she and the baby were doing extremely well. Plus, Shelby didn't have a problem with it, so why should I?
The answer: "Sure, that's fine. Just don't do it two weeks after that." The light couldn't look greener. With that, it was time to finalize my first winter backpacking trip.
The crew? Same as before - myself, Dan and Gabe. The destination? Snow Creek trail out of Yosemite Valley. Our plan was to hike out of the valley and spend our first night near the Snow Creek foot bridge, and just see what conditions were like. It was March, and depending on snow levels, we could do a day hike to Mount Watkins, or if things were clear, we could try to get through to the Yosemite Falls trail.
Snow Creek to Yosemite Falls at EveryTrail
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Quick Stats
Trailhead: Snow Creek Trail
Route: Mirror Lake to Snow Creek to Yosemite Point to Yosemite Valley via Yosemite Falls
Distance: ~17 mi
Elevation Gain: ~3,800 ft
Highest Elevation: ~7,800 ft
Day 1 - Yosemite Valley to Snow Creek
Once in the Valley, our first stop was the Valley Visitor Center, where we got our permits and a chance to ask questions. We learned that so far, no one had passed from Snow Creek to Yosemite Falls this season, so whether or not it was passable was unknown. The Snow Creek trail itself was clear of snow, but in the high country there would be snow, especially on any north-facing slopes. Confident that we could at least get to Snow Creek for an overnight, we left optimistic.
We piled into the truck, and took a short drive over to the trailhead parking past Curry Village. In the parking lot we began the familiar pre-trip routine of changing shoes, finalizing our packs, deciding what we need to leave behind, and making sure someone has the car keys in a place where they won't get lost for three days in the wilderness.
Once we were loaded up, it was off towards the trailhead. Right away I noticed that winter backpacking meant a much heavier pack, although that was to be expected. Between the snowshoes, an extra sleeping pad, and the additional layers of clothing, my pack felt like my mom had been in charge of deciding what to bring. There was no doubt that this was going to be a slow, and at times probably painful, trip.
During this day-one climb there were two essential resources that I maximized in order to get myself to the top, being as out-of-shape as I was: salami, and Power Berries. I'm sure you've heard of salami, but perhaps you haven't heard of Power Berries. Harvested from secret gardens of the ancient greeks, preserved using quart-sized carbonite chambers, and blessed by the great oracle Trader Jose himself, these chocolate-covered non-fruit pureed acai berry thingys are absolutely delicious and semi-resilient against the melting powers of the sun. And for us, they became known as "morale boosters," because they just kept us going mentally, and they really are that tasty. And really, this hike was one of those trails where you just take your breaks as needed, take your time, and focus on moving yourself to the top. We could enjoy the views later, we just needed to get the switchbacks behind us. And oh by the way, there's over 100 of them.
Once we did reach the top, it was time to find our campsite. A friend had clued me in on where to look, and we soon found a nice area with a fire ring, just a short walk from the perfect view of Half Dome, Basket Dome, and Mount Watkins. I remember thinking that in all reality, the hike we had just completed really wasn't all that bad for what it had earned us. Not counting the walk to the trailhead, in about 3 miles we made it to a pretty secluded ridge (only one other group was in the vicinity), with arguably the best view of Half Dome to be found in the park, a roaring creek running by before cascading into the valley, and great campsites to be had. It was absolutely perfect.
That evening, once we were convinced we had gotten every photo that we could, we enjoyed an early dinner and went to bed as it got dark. While it isn't uncommon for me to do that while backpacking, on this trip it was intentional because we knew that it would get cold. And man did it get cold. I had brought on this trip my usual sleeping bag and self inflating pad, but I also added a foam pad beneath that to really minimize heat loss to the ground. But even with that addition and multiple layers on, I was the coldest I have ever been in a tent. I knew that this trip would be a stretch for my bag, which really is barely a 3-season bag, but at the time i didn't have another option. All I could do was accept the fact that it was going to be a long night and wait for the sun to warm me up in the morning.
Day 2 - Snow Creek to Yosemite Point
When the sun finally did rise the next morning, I was more than ready for some hot chocolate. And after that, breakfast was a new experiment: couscous.
But this wasn't some creative breakfast couscous with nuts or cinnamon or anything like that, this was just some boxed garlic chicken flavor couscous taking the place of my oatmeal that I had come to dread because I was so tired of it (see previous trip reports). And while it was different and new - it just wasn't breakfast. And I know you're thinking that any idiot would have known that chicken and garlic flavor isn't breakfast material, but it wasn't the flavor. Something about the pure carbohydratey-ness just didn't sit right on the trail. Maybe it's the altitude, maybe it's the way I cooked it, or maybe it's just me - but I was foiled again by Breakfast.Anyway, our trail that day would be a new type of adventure for me. As I mentioned at the beginning, we didn't have an exact plan for the second day of our trip, we just had options. So that morning we surveyed our surroundings and came to a consensus on our goal for the day, which ended up being the top of Yosemite Falls. We had a whole day ahead of us, and knew we could go a ways in the morning and still turn around if we needed to. But we all had our snowshoes at the ready, and didn't expect to have too many problems. The one question that would have to be answered would be water levels, because we know there could be some creek crossings involved to get to Yosemite Falls.
Packed and ready, we set out on the trail. And from here, there isn't a whole lot for me to say about the trail itself because what stands out to me about this day, and this trip, is the experience of snowshoeing in the backcountry. While we started and finished the day in our normal shoes, the majority of our time was spent in snowshoes, making our own path through the woods, trying to avoid too many elevation changes, and enjoying the experience of blazing a trail through snow that I'm used to post-holing in. Yes it was tiring work, especially after a terrible night's sleep, but there was plenty of downhill to enjoy and more Morale Boosters and salami to keep me moving. And what topped it off was the suspicion that no one had yet gone along this route so far in this season, and there was no certainty that we would get all the way through. We always had in our back pocket the option of turning around so there was no feeling of danger, just the pure excitement of not knowing what challenges were ahead and if we would make it beyond them.
Eventually, the blissful walk in our gravity-defying snowshoes brought us to one of those challenges and we found ourselves faced with a roaring creek and no obvious method to cross it. As we scanned the banks for a place to cross, I became acutely aware of the fact that the most common killer of visitors to Yosemite (to my knowledge) are its streams, rivers, and waterfalls. My dad, as a pastor, has done funerals for people who fell to their death near places like Vernal falls because they didn't respect the dangers. I also remembered that the demographic most likely to die in the wilderness are men in their late twenties because they have an "invincibility complex." So there we were, three males between the ages of 25 and 30 about to attempt a creek crossing in the middle of March when waters were almost at their highest. Wonderful. No, the creek didn't look deep enough or strong enough to sweep us away, and death didn't seem likely even if things did go south, but some statistics just shouldn't be tested.
A little ways up stream, Dan spotted a place we might be able to cross. It was a snow bridge partially supported by logs and debris that had somewhat of a promising look, somewhat of a dangerous look.
"I'll go first, since I'm the lightest," Dan said.
It made sense, but at the same time nobody wants to wish that position on a friend. "Do you want to leave your pack and have us throw it across?"
"Yeah, lets do that."
Dan let down his pack, and approached the edge. First he had to get down a steep snow bank about 8 to 10 feet before attempting the bridge. He stepped over with his snowshoes and poles, and found himself sliding toward the bottom.
My breath stopped for a moment. Thankfully, his slide halted at the bridge, still on solid ground.
I think at this point Gabe and I offered some really encouraging support like, "Dan, just don't die." We're really great friends - obviously, he's lucky to have us.
Dan proceeded across the bridge, taking his time and testing the ground ahead of him with his trekking pole. Several minutes and some awkward steps later, he was across safely.
Next was my turn. I lowered Dan's pack down the slope first, then followed his example by going for a slide. I tossed Dan his pack, and approached the bridge without too much worry. I simply followed his footsteps, quite literally, and got the the other side without much issue.
Next was Gabe, who was both the heaviest member of our company and the one with an uncanny ability to end up in bad and awkward situations that only he seems to have the fortune of encountering. He could probably write a blog of his own devoted entirely to his bad luck (including stories of unexpected drunk bed-mates joining him in his hospital bed after his appendectomy). He made it through the slide and onto the bridge without issue. But just past the midway point of the bridge, with snowshoes on, Gabe post holed down to his thigh in the snow.
"Gabe, you alright?" He hadn't gone anywhere yet so we weren't quite panicking.
"Yeah."
"You want one of us to come out there?"
"No, that'd just be more weight out here."
I don't remember exactly how he did it, but after some struggling he made it up and off that bridge on his own. And we avoided adding our number to the statistics.
After a short rest, we moved on from the creek. From there it wasn't far to our destination, and we soon found ourselves at Yosemite Point, right above the flowing waters of Yosemite Creek. As evening came on, we made camp not too far from the trail, melting snow for our water, and starting a fire to warm us up and dry out some of our clothes. During dinner, I attempted to heat-dry my soaking-wet socks, and ended up burning a hole in one of them. That was my cue to get ready for bed. Luckily, that night I was able to stay warm by wearing all the clothes I had brought, and I slept like a baby compared to the night before.
Day 3 - Yosemite Point to Yosemite Valley
Our last day involved getting down to Yosemite Falls and following the Yosemite Falls Trail down to the valley floor. This was a familiar trek to me, but I don't know if I had ever done it with the falls flowing as strong as it was that day. At the top, the creek was absolutely roaring as it poured over the edge, rainbows faintly appearing in the spray as the water made its way down the granite wall of the valley, landing in a winter-formed snow cone at the base. We took several opportunities to admire the falls, going to the lookout at the top, and snapping pictures frequently on our way down. It was a great hike to close the book on a memorable weekend.
As we ended our trip, I was reminded of the responsibilities waiting back home. Hopefully Shelby was still pregnant (thankfully I would find out that she was). With my thirst for a backpacking excursion now temporarily quenched, I realized how fortunate I am to have a wife that would let me take a trip like that given the circumstances. And now it was time for me to focus on the home stretch of the bigger adventure as we looked to our baby's due date. In a little over a month I would be a dad...
I realized I had forgotten to ask a question for the doctor: "how old does a baby have to be before it can go backpacking?" I guess we'll find out.
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