Dirtbagging in Yosemite

Bridalveil Falls

Tourists. The bane of all locals. It's a schizophrenic view of a necessary evil. On the one hand tourist arrive like a swarm of locust and spend money like a drunken sailor. They support the economy and keep services going. On the other hand they are like a kindergarten class at recess. Noisy individuals and groups running around all over the place without any sense of order, and above all they are always in the way. Much like the school bell for recess, tourist season in Yosemite starts Memorial day and the bell doesn't ring again until labor day. I started out as one of those tourists. Then I "Dirtbagged it", the colloquial term for unofficially living in the Park. I slept on the floor at a friend's house, I camped in the few free camping areas, I camped were you aren't supposed to, and during a couple rainstorms slept in the car. 2017 was a record year for snow in the mountains along the west coast and the Sierras had more than their fair share. In February I was eager to be a tourist in Yosemite. During the winter there is only one road into Yosemite that is plowed. Melting snow washed out that highway and like an anxious expected father in the maternity ward, I waited for the highway to open. Finally it did. Enter the tourist. Me. Like overnight house guests I overstayed my welcome. While only the valley was open, everyday I found something new to explore. Since it was the off season, there were more park employees and residents than tourists. I got to know park rangers. I met park employees and soon got hook ups for free food. I also was privy to such valuable information as to when and where gates to closed areas would be open. That let me venture out into those areas before the tourists.

The view from Glacier Point of Yosemite Falls.

As a dirtbagger I was in the loop. I could get my free pizza and talk with the employees at the same time. Since there were rarely anyone on the trails I would talk with the occasional lone soul I would see out there. Those hearty individuals were usually employees in the park. As the weather warmed and visitors started trickling in I needed to move to someplace besides the valley to hunt for places to photograph. While hiking down from Vernal Falls I met a guy who told me they were leaving the gate unlocked at the entrance to the road to Glacier Point. I drove my car along the partially plowed road to the top. I spent days crunching through ice and snow, camera in hand, exploring. Later they opened one road that led to the high country. Glacier point by now was open to tourist. Like a rat deserting a sinking ship I scurried up to the high country.

Yosemite's high country.

The high country was still under a blanket of snow but the road had finally been plowed. Donning crampons and carrying my ice ax I hiked up the mountainsides looking for a scenic shot. The views were incredible.

Tioga Pass.

With no one around the wildlife was out and easily approachable. The snowy trails revealed the tracks of many different creatures. Patches of meadows revealed themselves as I ventured further out.

A curious Marmot stares at the strange two legged creature wandering through his meadow.

A Mule Deer pauses for that paparazzi on the shore as he crosses a frigid stream.

As with all things there comes a time to move on. June was here and so were the tourist. Time to head to another place to hike and explore. I would return to continue Dirtbagging through Yosemite from time to time over the next year.