John Muir passed away 100 years ago today. In my love, appreciation, respect, admiration, and slowly-progressing emulation of him, I thought I'd bring back this post from my second day of an unexpected trip to Yosemite- a place that wouldn't exist without his endless efforts to protect its beauty.
Our second night in Yosemite, a ranger came by to tell us that we’re awesome and doing a great job keeping our camp clean and fire under control, oh and also that there was a bear in the camp. I was in heaven. She ended up sticking around and talking with us, and said we should totally head up to the high country and check out May Lake. I fell in love with mountain high country my first time on the train through Montana, then rekindled that love a few months back in Colorado.
The next day we were up and hiking on solid rock past the scraggliest possible trees. The trail leads you right to this amazing, impossibly clear lake nestled below Mt. Hoffman, and recon began for prime hammock vibes. May Lake is definitely a place I’ll return to, not because the trail to the top of Mt. Hoffman (the tallest peak in the park) looks amazing but also because of the insane cabin tent village nearby, where every tent comes with a wood stove. Again, I love high country.
Although I’m really into spending all day on a mountain in a hammock next to a snow-melt lake, eventually I got antsy. When we first went by an unmarked trail on the way up I made a quick detour and saw the beginning of a pretty good view. Coaxing everyone else out of their hammocks was difficult, but holy crap what a reward. This view was almost too much to handle, and after sitting in awe for a few minutes we headed back to Hammockville for a chilly swim.
Ultimately we decided that up here was the best spot to watch the sky turn dark, so we packed up and headed to the rock ledge to watch the show.