DAY ELEVEN, part one: Yosemite National Park, CA to South Lake Tahoe, CA

DAY ELEVEN, part one: Yosemite National Park, CA to South Lake Tahoe, CA


Anxious to get ahead of any pending snow, morning came early. By 6:30 we were rolling in the RV, still in our pajamas, willing to stop to change and make breakfast once the kids woke up. After carefully planning and reprogramming our trip, I started the computer and Microsoft Streets and Trips once again would not work. What a colossal waste of money. I’d rather have a nice GPS and a road map than deal with this again.

The road we followed out of the park stayed along the valley floor. As I frantically tried to find the program the Microsoft lady e-mailed to me, service kept dropping. When it did work, it was slower than molasses in January. I was pretty certain I remembered the first couple legs of the route, so we pressed forward.

The sporadic service also made it impossible to reach the road conditions hotline. So as we moved ever forward, I literally had no idea if it was going to be the right direction after all. Not a very good feeling, especially for a planner like me.

Route 140 paralleled the Merced River, and the views of the water tumbling over rocks and curving around mountains did quite a bit to sooth my nerves. We stopped to take pictures of another beautiful waterfall prior to exiting the park. Further down the road, signs warned of a detour ahead. Thankfully the detour simply took you over the river then back again in less than a mile. Once safely on the other side of the river we could see the reason for the road closure and detour: an enormous rock slide had completely devoured a stretch of the road. So I guess the “Watch for Falling Rocks” signs weren’t just decorative.

Beautiful little rock outcroppings and tiny waterfalls peppered the landscape outside of my window. IT reminded me of when I was a kid and we would drive from Jacksonville up to St. Louis through Tennessee. My sisters and I didn’t have the benefit of cell phones, movies, and internet, so we would look out the windows at the pretty scenery. I remember Jeanette and I particularly loved it if we saw a frozen waterfall. I found myself feeling like a kid again. Pretty cool.

We pulled into Mariposa, and after being woken up at 6 to “get a head start,” then sitting in a parking lot while the kids and John ate, and spending 3 hours and 2 phone calls to India trying to fix our GPS program I’d had it. I left the computer and the RV as the “fix” from Microsoft to download for its predicted 30 minutes, and I walked around town. I found a Free Mason cemetery, and went in the gates to walk in the peace of the surrounding mountains in a place I was certain no one could disturb me.

Have you ever stood somewhere, and it was so peaceful you could hear the wings of the bird as they flapped above you? It is surreal. I stood looking at grave markers for World War II veterans, all with names you just don’t hear anymore. I came across the markers for a family that had lost both of their daughters within a 3-week stretch in 1889, at the ages of 3 and 11. A good walk and some alone time, coupled with the right find can do wonders to bring things back into perspective.

I walked back to the RV only to find that after 20 minutes, 0% of the “fix” had downloaded. John found the password for the local hotel’s internet, and we moved forward. Program saved, just none of the changes I had made. As John pumped gas, I re-fixed it. Again. If any of you ever buys Microsoft Streets and Trips, I will beat you with your own fist.

The ride up 49 was very twisting, turning, remote, beautiful, and scary. We passed through old mining towns like Chinese Camp and Jameson, that were so small if you blinked you’d most certainly miss them. The town of Angel Camp proudly boasted it was home of the jumping frogs and the county fair’s frog jumping contest. I had no intention of stopping in that town!

When we finally made it to 50 we turned eastward. There were no signs of road closures or mandatory chain conditions. The road was very clean, but the rain at our 3000 foot elevation most certainly meant snow at route 50’s 7500 foot elevation ahead. We climbed and climbed and the roads stayed clean, but the snow on the sides got deeper and deeper. At one point, is was up past the side-view windows of the RV!

We descended into Lake Tahoe, and the low clouds and general greyness shrouded its beauty completely. I wasn’t even able to get a single picture of it, sadly. The snow and the mountains are gorgeous, but all the rocking and turning and the fear I have of heights is doing a major number on my stomach. Ugh.