Yosemite

“What? What?” Ginny flailed as she tried to wake from a blissful, deep sleep.

“We talked about this last night,” she heard her brother say.

“What?” she asked again as she tried to pull her sleeping bag over her head.

“The stars are out,” Greg told her.

“Of course they are. It's the middle of the night.” She batted at his hand as he tried to unzip her sleeping bag.

“No, it's almost dawn. The weather's cleared and it's going to be a beautiful day. This is the day we've been waiting for. Now get up before I have to dump you on the floor. Dan's heating the water for breakfast.”

As consciousness returned, Ginny finally made sense of what he was saying. She grabbed her clothes from the foot of her bag and wiggled into them before she unzipped.

“It's freezing,” she shrieked. Where's my...Oh, thank you, honey,” she told her husband as he handed her a cup of coffee mocha. Dan knew that first cup would go a long way toward getting her moving.

“The temperature dropped fifteen degrees last night when the clouds cleared off. Stick your head outside and look up,” he suggested. “I love how brilliant the stars are when you get away from light pollution.”

Ginny, Dan, and Greg were staying in a tent cabin in Yosemite Valley. They had driven down from Seattle to spend their Christmas holiday cross country skiing and snow camping. However, the first day out, the snow was so wet and heavy that it hadn't been much fun. They had set up camp early, their two tents side by side. That night, Christmas Eve, it had stormed; lightning, thunder, strong winds and heavy snow. The works. In the morning they skied back to the Valley and spent Christmas day in a cabin, drying clothes and making new plans. Ginny also enjoyed a nice hot bath while the guys skied to Mirror Lake. Idiots, she thought.

Now, a few days later, was the day they had been hoping for. The storm fronts had passed, and they were going to be able see the spectacular scenery Ginny had been promising really did exist.

They were on the road before full light. Ginny was excited, thinking today Dan and Greg would see Yosemite in all its glory. Partway up the Glacier Point Road, as they approached a tunnel, she said, “Dan, it's a photo op. Pull over right now.”

Having been married for almost three years, he was familiar with that tone of voice and pulled into the viewpoint. Ginny grabbed her camera and jumped out.

“Greg, get your camera and come on. This is the perfect moment.”

The sun was high enough to break through between the peaks. The Valley floor, rimmed by high granite walls, lay in deep indigo shadows. Wisps of clouds drifting above the Valley turned pink as the sun shone through them. They watched El Capitan slowly emerge from the night like a Polaroid photograph coming into focus.

“Oh!” Greg exclaimed. “That's the Dawn Wall. First ascent wasn't long ago.”

“I hope you aren't planning on climbing it,” Ginny said, a little crease between her eyebrows.

“No, I'm not nearly good enough. And that's not the style of climbing I'm interested in, anyway,” he replied, giving her a little reassuring nudge.

Ginny quickly shot half a roll of film, trying to catch the play of changing light and color. Dan had the map out and tried to pick out the highlights of the Valley. Ginny waited patiently for Greg to finish taking photos with her old camera they had given him for Christmas. And waited less patiently. “For heaven's sake, how long is he going to take?” she asked Dan.

“You know he's a perfectionist, Gin. How long have you known him? You could have foreseen that this would happen.”

“Yeah, yeah. Give me the keys.”

“No, I don't think so. Go sit in the car and read your book.”

“Spoil sport. Come on Greg, time's up. We gotta get moving.”

As they were getting into the Scout, a Western Bluebird flew by, and Ginny just knew this was going to be a great day.

They drove to where the road was closed for the winter and parked in the snowplow turnaround. They would ski the closed road to Glacier Point. The winter birds were awake and singing. Looking up through the dark green branches overhead, the sky was a beautiful cerulean blue.

They deliberately under-dressed and were chilly when they started skiing. Although the air was cold, the exertion would soon warm them up. Dan and Greg took turns breaking trail. They skied down the middle of the road, staying out from under the trees as much as possible. Branches loaded with snow could dump their load and the weight, like a small avalanche, could kill a person. They had a friend who had died this way.

There were places where the branches met overhead and Ginny liked to hold back and try to get pictures of them skiing through the tunnels. Then she'd rush to catch up. It was a long way, ten miles, and Greg was carrying some of her emergency gear to lighten her load and quicken the pace. She didn't want to dawdle and slow them down.

They stopped occasionally to listen to a bird call or look at animal tracks. There were several types of woodpeckers that wintered over, and they could hear their calls and hammering as they searched for food in dead tree trunks. Deer and rabbit tracks were plentiful. A bright red splotch in the snow under the trees required a closer look and Greg suggested a coyote had dined on a rabbit. Dan had never seen a fox in the wild and was hoping against hope that maybe today would be his lucky day. Ginny was hoping to see a porcupine. Greg said he wanted to see a wolverine, but they all knew he was just whistling in the wind. Wolverines were the most elusive animals in the park.

When they arrived at Glacier Point, the entire Valley was laid out three thousand feet below them. They stood quietly, looking up and down the Valley, absorbing the beauty. The interplay of light and shadow across the snowy landscape was mesmerizing. El Capitan to the west, Half Dome to the east, and Yosemite Falls at the midpoint.

Ginny had seen it before, spring, summer, and fall, but not in winter. The emerald and chartreuse greens of the meadows, the deep dark needles of the pines, the sparkling ripples of the Merced River, the flaming leaves of fall; all the color was gone. The winter palette was stark white and all the shades of gray and black. Today it looked like a black and white photo by Ansel Adams, deserving to be hung in a museum.

An enormous black raven flew below them, calling in its loud raspy voice; the hypnotic spell was broken.

“Ginny,” Dan said, “you're shivering. “Move back from the edge and I'll get your down parka out of your pack.” She realized she had been standing still so long the icy draft moving up the rock face had chilled her to the bone.

As soon as she had her warm clothes on, Ginny began stomping out a rectangular area a little back from the edge and out of the breeze. They spread the silver ground tarp and tossed down their insulated sitting pads. Thrusting the tails of their skis into the snow created back rests. Dan set up the hiking stove and they had hot soup with their salami and peanut M&Ms. High calorie food was just what they needed to stay warm.

Grey jays flew about in the branches overhead but were too shy to come down and eat the little tidbits they tossed onto the snow. Greg elbowed Ginny and said, “Don't move, just turn your head slowly. There's a rabbit just under the big pine on the left.”

Following his directions, she looked, waiting patiently, until movement caught her eye. The rabbit's winter coat was white, and the camouflage was near perfect.

After packing up, they returned to the point to enjoy the spectacular view and take a few more photos. The highlights and shadows had shifted as the sun moved west. “Liquid rock and solid water,” Ginny said quietly.

“What'd you say?” Dan asked.

“I took a geology class at Foothills College when I was living in San Francisco. Yosemite was created by magma pushing up into weak areas. Liquid rock, you know. Then the tectonic plates thrust those cooled rock cores upward. Along came wind and water to erode the covering soil, and glaciers to sculpt, grinding and polishing. One hundred million years and this is the masterpiece laid before us. Cool, huh?”

The winter sun was low in the sky when they started back and they knew it would set before they reached the car. If the sky stayed clear they would ski by moonlight. If the clouds moved in early, their head lamps would light the way.

Dan and Greg traded the lead more frequently as they tired. Ginny concentrated on smooth, efficient strides. She loved the Shhhh, Shhhh her skis made in the quiet evening. Most of the birds had gone to bed, but occasionally they heard an owl call. The ice crystals glinted like diamonds in the moonlight. I've skied into a Disney cartoon, she thought. Maybe the bunny we saw at lunch was Thumper in his winter coat. Maybe the geologists are wrong. Maybe Yosemite was created with the wave of a magic wand. Several wands and several waves.

The moonlight flickered through the black branches overhead and her mind drifted to the magnificent trees they had visited in Mariposa Grove yesterday.

Greg, with map and compass in hand, had been their tour guide as they spent the day skiing among the Giant Sequoias. Even if she hadn't known that these were some of the biggest, oldest trees on earth she would have felt their gravitas. She could almost feel their individual personalities.

These trees felt so special some of them had been given names, such as the three-thousand-year-old Grizzly Giant and the Bachelor and Three Graces. The bark, so rough and deeply textured, was reddish brown splotched with white from the storm. Touching the Grizzly Giant, tipping her head back as far as she could without her skis slipping out from under her, Ginny felt like a tiny little pica. People are insignificant here. The trees rule, she thought.

Ginny returned to the present as she caught up with Dan. They skied together, enjoying the beautiful night, the deep black sky sprinkled with stars. An owl startled them as it glided quietly over their heads. A cry in the distance made Ginny whisper, “Cougar.”

“Do you think?” Dan asked.

“I hope so. Wouldn't that be just perfect?” she answered.

The moment was broken by Greg shouting something from further up the trail.

Ginny shook her head. “How will I see a cougar if he's going to be so noisy?”

“I'll go see what he wants,” Dan replied. He quickened his stride and disappeared around a curve, leaving Ginny alone. “Hey, Greg,” he said when he’d reached his brother-in-law, “What's up? We couldn't understand what you said.”

“I just said we're almost back. I'm going on ahead to warm up the Scout and scrape the ice off the windows.”

Dan turned back toward Ginny. “Okay, I'll go back and ski with…”

Crack! A sharp noise echoed off the hillsides, splitting the quiet. Rocks rumbled and crashed in the cold night air. A great whoosh and the sound of splintering wood followed. A split second, and Dan and Greg were racing back down the trail.

“Ginny! Ginny!” they screamed, but there was no answer. All they could hear were rocks bouncing into the valley below.

As they rounded the curve their route was blocked by a giant tree laying across the road, its massive root system on the hillside above and its top disappearing into darkness below.

“No!” screamed Dan. “No!”

“Dan, take a breath,” said Greg. “You can see where our tracks are covered by snow. Take the basket off your pole and start probing. There isn't much snow on top of our tracks, so you don't have to go deep. Move more toward the valley; she would have been swept that way. I'm going to the other side.”

Greg had been removing his skis as he calmly gave Dan instructions. He crawled under the trunk where it was suspended by the hillside. He knew they only had a matter of minutes to find Ginny alive.

“Ginny,” he bellowed, listening for a response, cursing silently. “Ginny!” He fought frantically through the thick branches, probing. The beam of his head lamp flashed off metal and he saw her ski pole. Lunging, pushing his way through the branches, he yanked on the pole, but it didn't pull free. “Ginny!” He dug down and found her gloved hand. “Dan, she's here. Get over here. Help me.”

Frantically digging, they quickly reached her face. She had managed to cross her arms and form an air pocket so she could breathe. Dan ripped off his glove and held the back of his hand in front of her nose and mouth. He felt her warm breath and sobbed with relief.

“Okay, good, that's good,” Greg said, his voice shaking. “Now let's get her out. First thing to do is warm her up.” Carefully digging and checking for injuries, they extricated Ginny from the debris. Greg unpacked the emergency equipment, quickly slipping an insulating pad and sleeping bag into the bivvy bag. They slipped Ginny into the sleeping bag and Greg instructed Dan to take off his outer clothes and get in beside her. He took off his own jacket and placed it with Dan's over the sleeping bag. Setting up the stove, he heated a pan of water and slipped the thermos in with them.

“I'm skiing out and going for help. It'll take several hours, so don't worry. She's alive, she's tough, she'll be okay.” Come on, little sister. You can do it, he thought to himself.

Dan unzipped Ginny's jackets and fleece shirt so his body heat could reach her skin. He held her tightly and pleaded with her, please, please, please, over and over. His heart nearly stopped when he realized her shivering had diminished. He checked her pulse, and the beat was strong and steady. He felt the tension in his muscles ease as the fear ebbed.

He thought about the first time he met her, a friend of a friend; and hoping they weren't too good of friends. Their first date, a Warren Miller ski movie, of course. He thought of so many wonderful moments and slowly relaxed enough to sleep as the hours passed and dawn drew near. He woke with a start, adrenaline flooding his system. Ginny had her face against his chest, rubbing her cheek back and forth.

“Ah, Ginny. I was so scared,” he whispered.

“Me, too, but I knew you would find me. I knew that.” She sighed as they lay in each other’s arms, waiting for Greg and the new day.

Author: Laura Nicol