Theme Park

I first went to Yosemite as a child. It was August 1. It snowed. We saw a bear.

I would probably appreciate the trails next to the hostel as much. But, like a kid in Anaheim who has not seen Disneyland, I am compelled to see Yosemite. I could take the bus, which costs $10, or I could drive, which also costs $10. The bus does not operate between 10:30 a.m. and 3 p.m. I drive.

When I get to the gate, a smiling ranger informs me that the price is now $20 for seven days, not $10 for one day. I am here. I pay my E Ticket, and I silently curse the privatization of public land. You say, Yosemite is public land? I say, there is a lot of public that can't afford the admission fee. For example, note the homeless in San Francisco, and ask yourself if they are welcome. What would happen if a city tried to relocate homeless here?

I imagine that if the ticket taking function of rangers was eliminated, they could save expenses in the middle of February, when most of the roads are closed, and hardly anyone is here. The politicians buy off the politically organized older population with "lifetime golden eagle passes, " and then transform public property into outdoor I-Max movie theaters for SUV drivers.

I notice a speed trap behind a hill. The limit is posted at 25 mph. Because of the scenic view, in peak season, there might be gawking, I suppose. But, with a gentle downhill slope, no traffic and no pedestrians, it feels like a much faster road. No problem, though. I've slowed down a bit. I have not passed a single car and am not approaching traffic. Nonetheless, the trooper follows me. I assume he is making sure that I am alert enough to notice him. He tailgates for a quarter mile. I wish he would just pass.

Instead, he flashes the siren lights. I pull over, give him insurance paperwork, registration and driver's license, and say very close to nothing. (He does not need to hear the rant about admission charges that is still in my head.) He will point out that the speed limit is 25 mph, smile, and urge me to drive safely.

Instead, he writes a ticket, for going faster than I was actually going, and asks, "Have you been using drugs?" ("No, but you have," I respond in my head.)

The ranger is having a bad day. His wife thinks less of him than I do, and she probably just left him, I imagine. Then he tells me, "I knocked one mph off of the actual speed."

After a long pause, he gives me a look like I should say something. I ask, "When is the court date?"

Not far from "Visitor Center Plaza, I find the Disneyland/Yosemite version of U.S. District Court, where rangers testify against indigent out-of-towners. A Wilfred Brimley or Bob Keeshan character standing behind a counter tells me they get drunk drivers and people who parachute off cliffs in addition to the poorly parked. "No serious crimes, today," he informs. "I've gotten a speeding ticket, too," he adds.

I hike around the park, look at waterfalls, and notice cameras everywhere. Strategically positioned rocks serve the function of Disney's walking cartoon characters. Yosemite is a great place to watch parents take pictures of rock climbing children.

However, the trails next to the hostel are more scenic than the A-ticket of "Mirror Lake," and in just two hours, I travel all of the open roads in off-season Yosemite. l will give it one more chance tomorrow. Then, Tuesday, I will donate five days of the seven day pass to some other hosteller, preferably one with children, who will appreciate it more. Does going to Yosemite and taking pictures of children feel like a duty? Parents think to themselves, "Checked that one off, now lets do the vaccinations?"

Brushed my teeth. Check.
Filled the gas tank. Check.
Went to Yosemite. Check.
Saw the waterfalls. Check.
How am I supposed to pay? Check.

I cool off over night, and give the park a second chance. I hike to lower Yosemite Falls, which I had somehow missed the day before. I ride the shuttle bus. (It just goes around and around a tiny area that I have already walked.) I see more of the same, until I find a road to Highway 120, with views below. As I leave the park, in a more relaxed mood, I tell a ranger that I enjoyed the upper roads most. She responds,"This is a police state, when you're in the park," and echos, "I've gotten a ticket, too."


Eagle Scouts at Yosemite

Signs to follow, rules to read
Ladies with sticks to help along paths
Rocks to climb, scenery to soak in
Paradise for Eagle Scouts

Putz around the roads, take turnouts (Tisk. Tisk.)
Faster cars flash past
Diesel busses choke children (cough, cough)
In a tight three mile loop for sight checker-offers
Tourist Town, Stop 1, Stop 2..., Stop 20
An elementary school, with elderly, as well

Look down at those ant people
From the high road or the other side of the valley
Watch coyotes,
Climb unmarked trails
Boundaries do not confine clouds, spirit, imagination

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People come from all over the world to see the fifth tallest waterfall, so, yes, you should go, too. Preferably, go in the off-season, when the park is less crowded. Bring children. Have fun. Then, go to Disneyland.