Mariposa to Napa

It is only 6:00 a.m. and we can already hear traffic outside the Mariposa Lodge on CA-140 on its way into Yosemite National Park.  It is cool outside, birds are singing in the trees, and I actually hear a rooster crowing somewhere in the distance as I do my morning Tai Chi under the shade of a tree in the parking lot.  What a relief it is to be here in the cool mountains again after so many days in the barren deserts.

We get an early start and have the top down as we follow the Merced River up the long, winding road into the Park, a little like the Cullasaja River gorge here in Highlands but the peaks all around are much taller.  This has to be one of the most beautiful places to drive on earth!  Each curve brings into view another mountaintop, covered in dense conifers, and we keep stopping and gazing in awe.

Into the Park itself, and we are surrounded by tall redwoods. 

 
Before long the well-known shape of El Capitan comes into view - Tut-tok-a-nul-la as the Native Americans called it.

Walking among these tall trees and surrounded by these massive peaks, we feel as if we are in a cathedral; everywhere, there are families walking in these aisles, and there is a kind of respectful hush as we climb up to the the lower falls.

This cross-section of a redwood tree had its rings labelled, and it dated back to the time of the Battle of Hastings in 1066.  Half-way back to the birth of Christ! - that's a quantity of time that is hard to grasp.

There is a post office here, too, and it has some unusually fine woodworking inside.  Talented craftsmen constructed many of these buildings!  I could spend an entire summer in this Park and never want to leave - here is where I would mail my postcards.

We ate a picnic lunch outside and I noticed that nearly everyone around us was from another country - Germans, French, Japanese.  There was almost nobody who spoke English.  This place is truly an international destination. 

This loud little fellow was there, too, looking for a handout.

We spotted some bird-watchers (long binoculars around their necks, notebooks in hand) who did speak English, and they had just in turn spotted a pileated woodpecker.  "Is that a blue jay?" I innocently asked, and was told that it was a Steller's Jay "Not a scrub jay, or those blue jays they have back East."  We spotted, too, this doe and her fawn, quietly grazing along the path; some visitors had walked past and not even seen them.

We could have stayed here all day, worshiping in this cathedral, but our voyage continued and we were due in Napa that night so we reluctantly got back on the road. 

There is some beautiful country in this part of the world, not just in the Park itself - we drove north through the little towns of Coulterville, and then west through the city of Stockton.  High plains, rolling meadows, giving way to more fruit and nut trees on the way, and melons out in the fields ready to harvest, and those big signs about the drought again.  As we neared Napa, we saw a big cloud of smoke off to the west, and fire engines were screaming down the road; I never did find anything on the news about this apparent wildfire, but the response was swift - everyone pulled off the road respectfully to make way for the fire equipment. 

Our hotel in Napa was very nice! - the Napa Valley Ivy Premier, immediately next door to a great Italian restaurant, Il Posto Trattoria, where they made us feel at home just as they seem to do in every Italian restaurant we have ever visited.