Category: Travels

Shortly after we booked our flight and were still just beginning to plan our activities for this trip, I saw the episode of Oprah where she and Gayle drove across the country to camp in a national park. They were clearly out of their comfort zone, but ultimately came to the conclusion that it was worth it to experience a place so beautiful. The episode ended with Oprah urging her viewers to visit this place for themselves. Later that night while discussing the upcoming trip, I found myself saying to Justin, “Oprah says we should go to Yosemite.” And instead of mocking me for blindly obeying Oprah, he said, “Let’s do it!”

The adventure began with uncertainty. The record snowfall in the region meant that our entrance to the park wouldn’t open for the season until two days before we planned to drive through. Due to the scheduling of our events in southern California later in the week, if there were any delays in clearing the snow, we wouldn’t have time to stop at the park at all. So when we drove past the roadside sign that blinked ‘Tiago Pass Open’, we were pretty excited. As we began the steep ascent into the mountains, I made Justin stop the car. We weren’t even officially in the park yet, and I was already amazed by the view.

Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Yosemite National Park! 

Even as summer set in, Ellery Lake was just starting to thaw. It was really bizarre to stand among snow and ice in a tee shirt and be perfectly warm. 

All of the melting snow meant that seasonal waterfalls formed everywhere, including some down the side of the mountain that dumped their water into the narrow roads that led through the park.

The water eventually found its way to the rivers and flowed with force. Signs were posted to remind visitors to respect Mother Nature’s power and stay out of the potentially dangerous rapids.

One particularly breathtaking spot was Olmsted Point. We wandered around here for over an hour, taking in the views and the fresh air. (Full disclosure, I got a little sun burned too. It didn’t occur to me, until it was too late, that at the high elevation I would need more sunscreen than I usually use.)

This little guy was a yellow-bellied marmot, which are a cousin of groundhogs. We saw at least a dozen of them scurrying around on the rocks and they were adorable. Cute as they were and tempting as it was, it’s against federal law to feed or touch them or any animal in a national park, so I had to settle for a few photos. Fortunately, he didn’t mind posing at all!

We moved on to find another amazing waterfall.

As we were on our way out of the park for the evening, we stopped in one last meadow to have a look around, and this beautiful young buck walked up to join us. He kept an eye on us until we got back in the car, and then continued on his way.

When we returned in the morning, we were headed down into the famous Yosemite Valley for the day and stopped for a photo at the entrance of the park. 

The first place we visited was Bridalveil Fall. Unless you wanted to get absolutely drenched, this was about as close as you could get. And even at this distance, some spray managed to drift through on the breeze. Justin decided to be brave, get soaked and walk all the way up the path to the viewing station at the bottom of the waterfall. I stayed dry while checking out the river in the forest.

We enjoyed a picnic lunch at Sentinel Beach where we had a great view of Yosemite Falls. The waterfalls empty into the Merced River, which had overflowed it’s banks and flooded the nearby trails. Apparently, this happens every year during the winter melt.

Without question, the star of the valley is El Capitan, a granite giant towering nearly 3600 feet above the valley floor. In Yosemite, this mountain is king of the mountains.

This wide shot of the valley is the most famous view in Yosemite – El Capitan with Bridalveil Fall across the way and Half Dome in the distance. This is the scene that sparked the desire to protect and preserve this land, which eventually led to the creation of the National Park Service. Thanks John Muir! We all owe you big time!

We went exploring around the base of El Capitan, and took a couple photos to show how our height compared to that of the mountain.

We found a few signs that indicated the directions for trails to other locations nearby, so we set off on what we thought was a trail to Inspiration Point. After climbing around the difficult terrain on the side of the mountain, hitting numerous dead ends and being forced to turn around, I started to think that maybe we had lost the trail. Justin insisted that we absolutely had not lost the trail, it just wasn’t a well traveled one. I maintained that it shouldn’t be this difficult to navigate if it really were a trail, and that we should just give up and go back. He reminded me that he knows a bit more about hiking than I do, after all, he’s hiked on four continents and I haven’t.

We went back and forth, both in conversation and in our attempts to locate and stay on the trail that we may or may not have been on for about a half hour. Finally, I told him to sit down, smile for the camera and follow me out of the woods because I was done searching for the trail. So here we are admitting defeat to the forest. You won, Yosemite, you won… this time.

I like opportunities to stand face to face with living history and be humbled and amazed, so when Justin’s mom and step-dad suggested spending the day at Ancient Bristlecone Pine Forest, it didn’t take too much effort to convince me that it would be a neat place to visit. At nearly 5,000 years old, these are the oldest trees on Earth.

The coffee mug I bought in the gift shop describes them more eloquently than I ever could: “Standing as ancient sentinels high atop the White Mountains of the Inyo National Forest, the Great Basin Bristlecone Pines rank as the oldest trees in the world. Living for thousands of years, these gnarled, twisted ancients have achieved immense scientific and cultural importance by providing the wood that helped to recalibrate the radiocarbon dating process.”

When the pyramids were built in ancient Egypt, these trees growing in California were already two thousand years old. With that piece of trivia and my mind sufficiently blown, we set off on a hike through history. 

At just over four miles, the Methuselah Trail is not for the faint of heart. Situated at an elevation of 10,000 feet above sea level, the first challenge is catching and keeping your breath. Then there’s the fact that it’s not exactly a wide or paved walkway – it’s just a narrow, dirt path winding up and down the steep hills through the mountains. And then there’s the creatures you might encounter… poisonous spiders, snakes, scorpions and maybe even some bears. Taking all of this into consideration, we still decided to take the trek and I’m so glad we did because it was worth every grueling minute!

Several species of pine trees grow in the forest, and the Bristlecone is named for it’s spiky pine cones.

We made frequent stops to catch our breath and set up the tripod for photos.

Somewhere along the trail sits Methuselah – it’s not just the oldest tree in the forest, it’s believed to be the oldest living thing on planet Earth. To protect it from vandalism, Methuselah is unmarked in the forest, but we felt this tree was a strong contender for the title.

Unlike the California redwoods, the Bristlecone Pines don’t grow very tall, but what they lack in height, they make up for with incredible texture and fascinating patterns in their wood.

I loved the way the sunlight filtered the trees, so I had to have a shot of us in this spot.

At the last place where we stopped to rest, we pulled out the tripod for a group shot. Here’s Justin, myself, Bill (Justin’s step-dad) and Joann (Justin’s mom) just before we completed the trail. See that cane Joann has? It’s actually a walking stick intended to make noise when it strikes the ground and scare away rattlesnakes. We didn’t see any on our hike, so I guess it worked!

While riding along in the rental car on our way into California to meet up with his mom and step-dad in the Sierra Nevada mountains, Justin made an impromptu decision to take us through Death Valley National Park. He had visited it before and insisted that it was well worth the detour to spend the afternoon checking it out. Death Valley has the honor of being both the hottest location and holding the lowest elevation of any point in North America. And with the allure of some interesting geological oddities to photograph, I was fired up to go exploring!

We entered the park at an elevation of around 800 feet above sea level, the same elevation as our native Ann Arbor. That elevation quickly dropped, and we watched the numbers tick away on a GPS device as we drove. It was like a New Year’s Eve countdown as we neared sea level, with a few horn honks and cheers when we arrived. From that moment on, it was literally all downhill from there!

The first place we stopped to have a look around was called the Devils Cornfield. They look to me like tumbleweeds, before they’ve started to tumble.

Then we moved on to the Mesquite Flat Sand Dunes – a beautiful, graceful and ever-changing intrigue in the harsh desert. When I first saw the dunes, I couldn’t wait to run all the way out there and play in the sand. That feeling fled when I got out of the car and actually felt the sand. To say it was hot doesn’t say enough… It was burning, baking, blistering hot! It was seriously like walking on tiny hot coals. So we didn’t stay very long…

When we stopped to wander through Mosaic Canyon, it suddenly occurred to me that since we were now in California, we were in an area of frequent earthquake activity. So I asked Justin how far we were from the fault line. “How do you think the mountains were formed?”, was his oh-so-comforting reply.

The next stop was the Devils Golf Course – a series of strange salt formations left behind by a long since evaporated lake. We pretended it was the surface of Mars, held a ceremony for our ‘landing’ and took our shuttle crew photo.

We had to stop at Badwater Basin, if only to say we visited the point of lowest elevation. At 282 feet below sea level, the air is thick, the heat is dizzying and then there’s the water… The high salt content and nasty appearance of this pool led to it earning the name of Badwater. Though it isn’t safe for humans, there are a few plants and animals that thrive in the soupy liquid.

A sign perched high in the mountainside above the parking lot noted where sea level was and provided an eerie reminder of how far down we’d gone.

When we started out on the long walk along the salt flat, we had no idea how hot and miserable this walk would be. The 110 degree air temperature hadn’t really affected us much all day, but that changed with this walk. The sunlight reflected off all of the salt and the heat just hung in the thick air. When we turned back, we had an interesting perspective. See that tiny white speck in the center of the photo? That’s the sea level sign above the parking lot. It blew our minds.

Although it was oppressively hot, it was pretty cool. The salt reminded me of the moon, craters and all.

To complete our day in the desert park, we took a drive through Artist’s Palette. The mineral deposits in the mountains create a rainbow of color when lit by the sinking sun. I was fascinated by the way the light made the desert holly seem to glow. It was amazing to see such incredible beauty in such a punishing environment.

For our first full day of vacation, and our only full day in Vegas, I arranged for us to see a side of Sin City that most tourists probably don’t even know exists. Just beyond the end of the Strip and just before you enter the downtown district of the city lies a hidden playground of Vegas history affectionately called the Neon Boneyard. In a nutshell, it’s where the old hotel and casino signs from the Strip go to retire or just rest for a while until someone decides to restore them. Financed through donations, the non-profit Neon Museum offers guided tours where the stories and history of the signs are told. They also allow private access for photo and video sessions, which was our purpose for visiting…

The Boneyard is just a photographer’s dream come true – that’s the only way to describe it! The old, broken, rusted signs are bursting with character and they almost audibly beg to have a camera pointed at them. Stepping close to examine their detail, you feel as though the spirit of Old Vegas is a living being and the ghosts of Frank Sinatra and Sammy Davis, Jr. are standing next to you. It’s humbling and awe-inspiring. At least, that’s how I felt. And knowing that we had the place all to ourselves for an hour was the cherry on the sundae!

With the assistance of a tripod and a wireless shutter remote, I was able to photograph this session and be a subject in it. Not an easy thing to do, mind you, but the results are so worth all the effort! Take a look!

One of the challenges of shooting a session that you’re also a subject in on a breezy day is that no one is there to tell you that the wind has blown your dress up and your lining is showing. Another one is when you’re delayed from capturing the shot you want because your boyfriend cannot stop giggling.

A Neon Museum employee came over to let us know when we had five minutes left in our hour. She noticed the sign we were posed with and told us that it had originally been part of the Moulin Rouge hotel. When it came to live at the Boneyard, they reworked the Rouge so it appeared to spell “Love” instead. 

For our big finish, we decided to do a little twirl and take a big bow.

I definitely recommend putting this place on your Las Vegas sight-seeing list! We liked it so much we even plan to come back the next time we’re in town and take the official Boneyard tour to hear the stories of these amazing signs.

Like a school kid, I’d been looking forward to my summer vacation since February. We booked our flight to Vegas on a Sunday afternoon while yet another blizzard blew through the Midwest. Knowing that the trip was on the horizon got me through the countless hours I spent shoveling snow this past winter. It seemed to take forever, but finally, our departure day arrived and we were on our way!

I’m always really excited to watch my bag being loaded onto the plane because, well, it means my bag is being loaded onto the right plane. Look! It’s the hot pink one in front! There it goes!

About ten minutes before our section began boarding, we decided to kick off our vacation with a celebratory beer. We knew we didn’t have a lot of time, so of course we ordered the largest size available and drank as fast as we could. Afterwards, I stood at the gate feeling a little light-headed and wondering if I was seeing things. So I leaned over and asked Justin, “Am I cuckoo or is that a bird hopping across the floor?” He confirmed that no, I wasn’t crazy and yes, that was a bird scurrying through the McNamara terminal. I guess even if you have wings, sometimes you feel like letting someone else do the flying.

Taken from an electronic-device-usage-friendly 33,000 feet, the clouds cleared as the night moved in and the almost full moon rose over the wing.

Viva Las Vegas! I’m not much of a gambler, but I get a kick out of the fact that you can play a few rounds of video poker before you’ve even grabbed your bag from luggage claim. On our way into town, I managed to get a shot of the famous Las Vegas sign through the windshield of our moving rental car. And no, I wasn’t driving.

Just a thought, but maybe they call it Sin City because of all the so-good-but-so-bad-for-you food. Who needs casinos when you can get a slice of pizza in New York and chase it with a crepe from Paris?