A Simple Hug Gone Wrong

I was recently harassed when I was out of town visiting my daughter, Dawn. While she was at work and I was walking around downtown, I was harassed by a homeless man. He started by asking for a hug. I thought it couldn't do any harm, and I felt sorry for him, so I obliged. Then it got weird. He started reciting strange apologetic statements in my ear, as if to make amends for a past wrongdoing. I was startled by this, and tried move away, but he wouldn't let go of me. He kept calling me his angel and telling me that he was in love with me. Somehow I convinced him to go inside the nearest grocery store, where I wrestled free and got help. Security was called, and the police escorted me out of there. I have a small bruise on my arm from his grip.

I used to think, because I'm not a young, hot woman, that I wouldn't be a target for this type of act. But today I see things differently. Harassment isn't about desire. It's about power, and lack of self control mixed in with a little bit of crazy. There is nothing normal or logical attached to the behavior, because it is not rational. A normal person wouldn't even consider it.  When I reflect on what happened today, it doesn't sit well with me that a simple hug could turn into something so violating and unreasonable. All I remember today is how awful it was. The memory of scent is the most powerful.  His breath reeked of booze, and his body odor, like his grip, was strong. I think the man was arrested for drunk and disorderly behavior. 

Horse Critique

As we continued our journey around what was the shady side of Mirror Lake, we started encountering more people headed towards us. The obvious presence of horses was becoming more and more annoying, to the point that we actually considered going back the way we came. Because people were headed toward us, we assumed it would get better.  It did not. I am still uncertain which was worse: The plethora of novice riders that followed in a line through our path, or the droppings that we encountered before and after we had to stop to let them pass.  

When we finally reached the end of the horse trail, to say we were relieved would be an understatement. The air was fresh again. We were free from the stench!  The pavement became a welcome space where we no longer had to focus on our foot placement. Ironically, we noticed an older Golden Retriever eliminate near the side of the road, where thankfully, the owner was picking up after the animal. Why anyone would have been coming toward us on that particular trail still puzzles me, and I continue to question - How can there be no environmental impact from these trail rides?  

I can understand how the National Park system would want to provide experiences for folks to enjoy when visiting, however, it is my view that this practice of taking tourists out on horseback is a little like when people were allowed to feed the bears. These types of excursions, ones that involve human acts that work against nature, are a mistake. At Yosemite, there is a careful balance between what will be allowed so that humans may enjoy the park, and what will be prohibited, both to keep humans safe, and to conserve the natural habitat of the wildlife there.  I believe allowing the horseback/mule rides would be better considered as one of the activities that hinder their goal of conservancy, and I hope someday the non-profit that makes these sorts of decisions comes to the exact same conclusion.

Mirror Lake on Foot

It was difficult to leave the incredible rock climber sighting area, but we both felt compelled to continue our journey to Mirror Lake on foot. Our goal was to go around the lake in a counter clockwise direction, and once we got to the foot path that led us away from the pavement.  Once we got down a little way the path, we realized we would be sharing the trail with others, but it wasn't as crowded as the first time.  We chose to take an upland route through what is called The Cemetery for a bit more privacy.  We also wanted to be upland so we could see the correct path that would lead us around since we hadn't found it the first time.

When we finally reached Mirror Lake, we were alone.  I was inspired by the Ansel Adams photo I had purchased the day before, and I desired to take a photo of the place from the same vantage point as a comparison.  I didn't have to search long and this time snapped what I thought (and still think) was the prettiest photo from the trip.  I imagined Ansel Adams with his box camera taking photos, and wished for the millionth time that I had better than an iPhone 3 to take photos.  Here is the result.

At some point it was becoming evident that horses had been on this trail, and like trackers we followed their hoof prints to the rim of the lake.  The horse tracks lead us to a private gravel beach that was shallow enough to pass through.  Feeling adventurous, we decided to cross through the cool glassy water to the other side.  We took off our shoes, and waded our way across the gravel floor at the shallowest part of the lake.  We felt invigorated once on the other side where we sat and rested - taking in the beauty that surrounded us.  I felt awash with what John Muir must have felt when he first discovered that Yosemite could restore the soul.

A Small Plank

It was our last morning in Yosemite, and even though we knew it was far too late to sight a bear, I was still curious about why that trail leading to Vernal Falls was so darned crowded. I posed this question to our new friend, “Do you have any idea why there were so many hikers headed out this morning on the trail to Vernal Falls?”

He explained that the trail leading to Vernal Falls, was one of many other destinations, namely, the trailhead hike to Half Dome. He added that hikers need a permit to make that trek, and said that it took about 8-10 hours round trip. My “aha” light bulb went off.  His explanation was satisfying to hear. I thanked him and queried about how he came to live here in the Yosemite Valley. He offered up more information from that question than I had expected. He said that he came to Yosemite to live, leaving Chicago many years ago. But it was the way he disclosed his age that charmed me the most. “I’m 3 quarters and 4 pennies,” he said with a devilish grin.

As he got up from the patio table to go back to work, I felt like I had made a new friend – one that I would truly want to meet up with again. We waved to him from the beginning of the trail he had so expertly pointed out to us, and we walked into the forest, thankful for the shade, the good company, and the brisk valley air. We meandered on a dirt path through a parking lot, past the North Pines Campground (which was fairly empty), and along a paved footpath that we weren’t allowed to use when we were on the bikes. There were towering Sequoia’s on both sides with occasional openings that allowed us to view the granite rock formations on our left.  

Our conversation, like our hike, was simple and uncomplicated. But at one point I had to stop and point out what looked like a foot long plank attached to the side of a massive column embedded in the rock. It was nestled in an opening to the left of shortest tree we could see. Brad pulled out his binoculars to get a better look, “I think it’s a rock climber,” he mumbled handing them to me. I looked closely at the “plank.” It WAS a rock climber! Upon closer inspection with the binoculars, it looked like he was standing or kneeling on a red hammock that was attached on the opposite side of a towering rock column. I handed the binoculars back to Brad, who noticed another climber above him, while I snapped a photo of the gutsy duo.

Washington Column, Yosemite Valley

Close-up of the Rock Climbers