Yosemite. It means One Who Kills.
A lot of people wonder how do you do it? How do you travel around the world, take these pictures, go on so many trips? How do you afford it? How do you have the time? Well my friends let me tell you.
Like a homeless person.
Yosemite. My most recent mini vacation. I was fortunate enough to take a job interview in California, just a two hour drive from Yosemite, I hopped on the opportunity and got to procrastinating. No planning, no real research into the drive other than a quick google search of 'Pleasanton to Yosemite,' and of course it being the summer no weather outlook. Hot.
One day before my flight out to California (just a fortnight after booking the interview where again I was happily unemployed so no real speed bumps in my day) I got to hunting for a return flight. Low and behold they were expensive as f***. Deciding to skip the flight for now, because you know flights are always so cheap the day of, I looked at cars. Apparently something in San Francisco was going on and cars were hella expensive. I went ahead and anxiously searched before I bid a Priceline deal securing a ride for a mere $36 a day. Just $100 more than anticipated. My sister came through and got me a return flight with a 5-hour layover on her miles. God bless her, her over working is beneficial to us all. Ok one last bit to book, a hostel, the best way to meet hiking buddies. I found a decent looking cheap place in Mammoth. That's part of Yosemite I thought, it must be close.
Interview, check and completed. Car, check, I'm in it. Start drive to Yosemite.
"You are on the fastest route, and the route is clear, you should reach your destination in four hours and eleven minutes if you are willing to drive off cliffs and have no regard for life." The GPS said. Shit already this was longer than I expected, but I was on a mission. I had been to Yosemite for my 18th birthday with my family and it was an incredible trip, I was ready to return.
The drive meandered on through red cliffs on curves even Vin Diesel would have slowed on. (Can't say Paul Walker anymore can I?) I, with my rational fear of driving on cliffs, slowed and went through safely. I hadn't even considered the mountains on this drive. The sun was now set on my 5 hour journey and I didn't bring glasses on my trip. Apparently positive thinking doesn't solve vision problems, especially at night. #LifeFacts.
****************************************
Night has fallen, a loan blind girl drive the rickety Ford Fiesta, a car designed by Mattel, through burned forests and sheer-faced mountains, the full moon peeks around a crest and two headlights no brighter than a cell phone light her way. "Lost satellite" my GPS barks at me. I am lost, I am tired, and I cannot see shit. I pull off into what I assume is a housekeepers section of the park and go inside to ask for help. The men at the desk tell me I am still three hours from Mammoth, where my hostel is, and despite being named Housekeepers, they are actually a campground. Realizing I will probably drive off a cliff if I keep going, and I missed my turn by 15 miles, I ask if they have any availability. By all the miracles in the last summer of Yosemite, the USA's most popular park, at the cheapest place to stay, they have one site available.
"Do you need a sleeping bad?" The front desk man asks, who looks like Shaun White.
"No!" I say with burgeoning confidence at the thought of going to bed safely.
'What the hell' I think to myself? I didn't pack a sleeping bag. These are canvas tents but I may want covers.
"Ok, so you packed bed linens and blankets then?" The front desk man asks to ensure I won't freeze.
"Yes I'm all set" I said again. My brain screaming what the hell you moron, you have business clothes, a laptop, and hiking shorts. Why are you doing this?
Gollum replies 'because master doesn't like that we's have paid for now two sleeping spots. Master is annoyed at itselfs. Master doesn't want to spends more money. $112 for a campsite is enough.'
"Ok cool, the beds are those plastic mattresses and some people get grossed out at them."
"I'm not a germaphobe" Gollum replies laughing with the front desk man.
I go into my assigned canvas tent and look at the blue plastic bed staring back at me. I'm not touching this I think to myself. I look in my favorite backpack where I keep my emergency supplies and take out a poncho. It covers about four feet of the bed. I opt to protect my head from the hantavirus bed. This is all I have. I normally had an emergency blanket, but I used it a few months prior in Iceland. I wasn't freezing at all, I was sitting in my heated car, butt warmers on, with my friend, looking at the black sand of Vik. He had never used an emergency blanket before so I whipped it out and we got under it, entirely too hot. Now I regretted the wasted usage. I lay down on my crinkly bed and tred to sleep. Nope! This isn't going to work at all I realize, the plastic already sticking to every piece of my exposed body.
Hour 39
Dear Diary, I don't know how long I've been here. The nights are long. It was near 90 today so why oh why is it cold now? My body freezes and all my belongings are thousands of miles away. I've laid a newspaper over my body, like I've seen homeless people do. It has provided some warmth, but the Park Paper is only two sheets, and I am mostly still uncovered. I have moved into the car to lay on the seat, but the hot wheels car is rather small and I can't stretch out. I look through my window and am astonished at the view. The full moon is in between the trees and despite my misery, I am taken by the beauty.
Hour 42
Diary, the night continues. I have pulled the seats down and am now residing in the trunk of the car. I can lay flat here, but it comes at a cost. It is so hard. I am cold. I have the windows cracked to regulate my air as I fear I could get stuck in the trunk. I am under my poncho and newspaper. I have grown accustomed to their lacking warmth and sticky discomfort.
Hour 82
The night is drawing to a close. I can't've gotten much sleep. My body chills come in waves. I huddle in the trunk. It traps some of the warmth. I can't help but let my mind roam at how awkward it would be to be found in this position. I pull the paper closer to my chest.
*************************************
I was up and out of my car at 6 am, ready to hike and figure out a life plan as clearly I had been failing myself.
I went to rebook my campsite realizing in the morning just how beautiful the area I stumbled upon was. I looked at the prices of the rental bags, just out of curiosity. One dollar. One fucking dollar to rent a sleeping bag, an item designed to keep you from shivering through the night. A gross mattress covering sheet? Seventy-five cents. I mean they were practically giving it away. I punch Gollum in the dick and rebook my tent then call to cancel my hostel, losing out on about $80. I also inquire about the sleeping bags having swallowed my pride with this new fresh-faced front desk man. They are out of sleeping bags now, of course they are, but I rent the bed cover for less than the cost of gum.
The day was wonderful, I did a long hike to Cathedral Lakes in the early morning before the heat or crowd. I was actually very excited for the heat to hit though.
And you may be thinking 'ah so it's over and her trip was good thereafter?' Wrong.
I went to the camp store determined to get myself a blanket or a sleeping bag. They were sold out of each, the only thing they had available was the Pendleton Parks collection blanket. A $300 blanket that I already own. I considered buying it heavily for about an hour recalling my previous evening, but determine that even if I bought it, I would feel uncomfortable using it again just imagining what germs the plastic mattress would infuse into the virgin wool. Instead I opted for the homeless approach yet again and bought a roll of paper towels and a sleeping bag liner that wasn't sold out, intending to insulate myself in my liner. I also managed to steal two towels from my campground and sleep more soundly, though still somewhat chilly, the second evening.
I would be leaving out a large part of my journey into homeless survival if I didn't mention I had taken to peeing inside of my canvas tent. It was on a concrete slab, and clearly no maid service came through in the ironically named campground. There was a large group of men who creeped by the bathroom around a campfire all day long. While I felt uncomfortable near them, in hindsight they could have been weirded out about the girl who kept crawling from a car trunk. But to avoid them, and truthfully out of a blooming lazy disregard for personal hygiene brought on by sleeping under newspapers, I began to pee in a corner of convenience in my tent. My mom still gives me grief for this.
The following morning I woke up early to take a shuttle I had booked to a one way hike. Panorama trail, the reason I wanted to return to Yosemite. I go to my car to drive to the pickup location. My keys I promise had materialized into my car in the night and locked themselves in. The gist of the frustrating morning was I had to wait over an hour to have my car unlocked for $150, I missed my morning shuttle without a chance for a refund of $25, and the rest were booked for the day, and I had to give up the hike I had wanted. Instead I drove to the top of the hike myself, a stunning look out point, and hiked half the trail leaving the untrodden path ahead of me to return to my car. The views again made the frustrations worth it. Being a crowded trail there was no place to hop off and pee without being seen, so having fully been beaten down, I stood atop a water fall, waded into a pool of cold water, and peed standing up, in my hiking shorts, imagining some child 1000 feet below frolicking around in the falls. I then howled like a wolf and trekked out. Back at the valley, I snuck into the shower facilities annoyed at the $5 fee and dried off with my remaining paper towels (as I had to return my real towels at check out). I drove and got lost back to San Francisco, slept in my car-house for several hours before my flight, again freezing, and flew home, but of course with a five-hour layover in between.
So how do I do all these amazing trips? Apparently not well, but it's a hell of a story.
Like a homeless person.
Yosemite. My most recent mini vacation. I was fortunate enough to take a job interview in California, just a two hour drive from Yosemite, I hopped on the opportunity and got to procrastinating. No planning, no real research into the drive other than a quick google search of 'Pleasanton to Yosemite,' and of course it being the summer no weather outlook. Hot.
One day before my flight out to California (just a fortnight after booking the interview where again I was happily unemployed so no real speed bumps in my day) I got to hunting for a return flight. Low and behold they were expensive as f***. Deciding to skip the flight for now, because you know flights are always so cheap the day of, I looked at cars. Apparently something in San Francisco was going on and cars were hella expensive. I went ahead and anxiously searched before I bid a Priceline deal securing a ride for a mere $36 a day. Just $100 more than anticipated. My sister came through and got me a return flight with a 5-hour layover on her miles. God bless her, her over working is beneficial to us all. Ok one last bit to book, a hostel, the best way to meet hiking buddies. I found a decent looking cheap place in Mammoth. That's part of Yosemite I thought, it must be close.
Interview, check and completed. Car, check, I'm in it. Start drive to Yosemite.
"You are on the fastest route, and the route is clear, you should reach your destination in four hours and eleven minutes if you are willing to drive off cliffs and have no regard for life." The GPS said. Shit already this was longer than I expected, but I was on a mission. I had been to Yosemite for my 18th birthday with my family and it was an incredible trip, I was ready to return.
The drive meandered on through red cliffs on curves even Vin Diesel would have slowed on. (Can't say Paul Walker anymore can I?) I, with my rational fear of driving on cliffs, slowed and went through safely. I hadn't even considered the mountains on this drive. The sun was now set on my 5 hour journey and I didn't bring glasses on my trip. Apparently positive thinking doesn't solve vision problems, especially at night. #LifeFacts.
****************************************
Night has fallen, a loan blind girl drive the rickety Ford Fiesta, a car designed by Mattel, through burned forests and sheer-faced mountains, the full moon peeks around a crest and two headlights no brighter than a cell phone light her way. "Lost satellite" my GPS barks at me. I am lost, I am tired, and I cannot see shit. I pull off into what I assume is a housekeepers section of the park and go inside to ask for help. The men at the desk tell me I am still three hours from Mammoth, where my hostel is, and despite being named Housekeepers, they are actually a campground. Realizing I will probably drive off a cliff if I keep going, and I missed my turn by 15 miles, I ask if they have any availability. By all the miracles in the last summer of Yosemite, the USA's most popular park, at the cheapest place to stay, they have one site available.
"Do you need a sleeping bad?" The front desk man asks, who looks like Shaun White.
"No!" I say with burgeoning confidence at the thought of going to bed safely.
'What the hell' I think to myself? I didn't pack a sleeping bag. These are canvas tents but I may want covers.
"Ok, so you packed bed linens and blankets then?" The front desk man asks to ensure I won't freeze.
"Yes I'm all set" I said again. My brain screaming what the hell you moron, you have business clothes, a laptop, and hiking shorts. Why are you doing this?
Gollum replies 'because master doesn't like that we's have paid for now two sleeping spots. Master is annoyed at itselfs. Master doesn't want to spends more money. $112 for a campsite is enough.'
"Ok cool, the beds are those plastic mattresses and some people get grossed out at them."
"I'm not a germaphobe" Gollum replies laughing with the front desk man.
I go into my assigned canvas tent and look at the blue plastic bed staring back at me. I'm not touching this I think to myself. I look in my favorite backpack where I keep my emergency supplies and take out a poncho. It covers about four feet of the bed. I opt to protect my head from the hantavirus bed. This is all I have. I normally had an emergency blanket, but I used it a few months prior in Iceland. I wasn't freezing at all, I was sitting in my heated car, butt warmers on, with my friend, looking at the black sand of Vik. He had never used an emergency blanket before so I whipped it out and we got under it, entirely too hot. Now I regretted the wasted usage. I lay down on my crinkly bed and tred to sleep. Nope! This isn't going to work at all I realize, the plastic already sticking to every piece of my exposed body.
Hour 39
Dear Diary, I don't know how long I've been here. The nights are long. It was near 90 today so why oh why is it cold now? My body freezes and all my belongings are thousands of miles away. I've laid a newspaper over my body, like I've seen homeless people do. It has provided some warmth, but the Park Paper is only two sheets, and I am mostly still uncovered. I have moved into the car to lay on the seat, but the hot wheels car is rather small and I can't stretch out. I look through my window and am astonished at the view. The full moon is in between the trees and despite my misery, I am taken by the beauty.
Hour 42
Diary, the night continues. I have pulled the seats down and am now residing in the trunk of the car. I can lay flat here, but it comes at a cost. It is so hard. I am cold. I have the windows cracked to regulate my air as I fear I could get stuck in the trunk. I am under my poncho and newspaper. I have grown accustomed to their lacking warmth and sticky discomfort.
Hour 82
The night is drawing to a close. I can't've gotten much sleep. My body chills come in waves. I huddle in the trunk. It traps some of the warmth. I can't help but let my mind roam at how awkward it would be to be found in this position. I pull the paper closer to my chest.
*************************************
I was up and out of my car at 6 am, ready to hike and figure out a life plan as clearly I had been failing myself.
I went to rebook my campsite realizing in the morning just how beautiful the area I stumbled upon was. I looked at the prices of the rental bags, just out of curiosity. One dollar. One fucking dollar to rent a sleeping bag, an item designed to keep you from shivering through the night. A gross mattress covering sheet? Seventy-five cents. I mean they were practically giving it away. I punch Gollum in the dick and rebook my tent then call to cancel my hostel, losing out on about $80. I also inquire about the sleeping bags having swallowed my pride with this new fresh-faced front desk man. They are out of sleeping bags now, of course they are, but I rent the bed cover for less than the cost of gum.
The day was wonderful, I did a long hike to Cathedral Lakes in the early morning before the heat or crowd. I was actually very excited for the heat to hit though.
And you may be thinking 'ah so it's over and her trip was good thereafter?' Wrong.
I went to the camp store determined to get myself a blanket or a sleeping bag. They were sold out of each, the only thing they had available was the Pendleton Parks collection blanket. A $300 blanket that I already own. I considered buying it heavily for about an hour recalling my previous evening, but determine that even if I bought it, I would feel uncomfortable using it again just imagining what germs the plastic mattress would infuse into the virgin wool. Instead I opted for the homeless approach yet again and bought a roll of paper towels and a sleeping bag liner that wasn't sold out, intending to insulate myself in my liner. I also managed to steal two towels from my campground and sleep more soundly, though still somewhat chilly, the second evening.
I would be leaving out a large part of my journey into homeless survival if I didn't mention I had taken to peeing inside of my canvas tent. It was on a concrete slab, and clearly no maid service came through in the ironically named campground. There was a large group of men who creeped by the bathroom around a campfire all day long. While I felt uncomfortable near them, in hindsight they could have been weirded out about the girl who kept crawling from a car trunk. But to avoid them, and truthfully out of a blooming lazy disregard for personal hygiene brought on by sleeping under newspapers, I began to pee in a corner of convenience in my tent. My mom still gives me grief for this.
The following morning I woke up early to take a shuttle I had booked to a one way hike. Panorama trail, the reason I wanted to return to Yosemite. I go to my car to drive to the pickup location. My keys I promise had materialized into my car in the night and locked themselves in. The gist of the frustrating morning was I had to wait over an hour to have my car unlocked for $150, I missed my morning shuttle without a chance for a refund of $25, and the rest were booked for the day, and I had to give up the hike I had wanted. Instead I drove to the top of the hike myself, a stunning look out point, and hiked half the trail leaving the untrodden path ahead of me to return to my car. The views again made the frustrations worth it. Being a crowded trail there was no place to hop off and pee without being seen, so having fully been beaten down, I stood atop a water fall, waded into a pool of cold water, and peed standing up, in my hiking shorts, imagining some child 1000 feet below frolicking around in the falls. I then howled like a wolf and trekked out. Back at the valley, I snuck into the shower facilities annoyed at the $5 fee and dried off with my remaining paper towels (as I had to return my real towels at check out). I drove and got lost back to San Francisco, slept in my car-house for several hours before my flight, again freezing, and flew home, but of course with a five-hour layover in between.
So how do I do all these amazing trips? Apparently not well, but it's a hell of a story.
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