Yosemite - Thursday, April 23rd through Saturday, April 25th

Thursday, April 23rd

I woke up and starting squawking for help because there was a strange man in the room! He was buff, balding, and didn’t look like anyone I had ever met. John and Julie calmed me down by telling me it was their brother, Scott. Apparently, he arrived around midnight. I wouldn’t know; I was sound asleep. He looked like he would snap my neck with one twist of his hands, so I kept my eye on him. It’s always the newcomer that you have to watch out for. The morning was spent showing Scott the sights of Yosemite. We walked through Yosemite village, stopping at the museums and stores along the way. It was very leisurely. There weren’t a whole lot of people in the park, so it was kind of nice not having to squeeze my way through the throngs. It was nothing like the Grand Canyon – that place was packed! After a leisurely time in the village, we all headed back to our room for lunch. Oh, sure … Scott gets lunch, but again I get nothing! I tried to make a mad dash for the door, but John stuffed me in his pocket. As much as I struggled, I couldn’t break through of pocket-jail. I was captured and could do nothing about it. At least he let me see where we were going. After watching them eat lunch and fill up their water bottles, I found out we were going on a hike. Up to the top of a waterfall. How crazy is that? But we boarded the shuttle to the stop for the Vernal Falls trail. And what a fun trail it was! Thankfully, I didn’t have to do the walking, because it was all up hill. John kept up with his brother and sister to about the footbridge at the bottom of the waterfall. Hey, didn’t Julie take a picture of us at that spot? Where’s the picture? (Note from John: I’ll add it later. Don’t get your feathers ruffled!). It was after this spot that the strength and overall health took over for Julie and Scott. John tried his best to stay with them, but once he got to the rocky steps beside the waterfall, all misty and wet and cold and steep, he lost track of his siblings. I thought for sure he was going to give up, but he persevered onward, even though he was one false step towards certain death. It was kind of exhilarating, knowing that we could be dead (either by drowning or a broken neck, it a matter of moments. But soon we were at the top of the waterfall. We rounded a crest of the trail and there it was: the river rushed over the edge, creating the Vernal Waterfall. And there were Scott and Julie, standing up and ready to return. John promptly told them to sit down and chill out while he enjoyed the view. He even had me enjoy the view looking down from the waterfall. Dangling over the fence that separated the drop from him, I was tempted to peck his hand and then fly off into the horizon. But wasn’t sure if the mist would throw off my aerodynamics and instead plunge me into the pool down below, so I refrained. But my poultry instincts almost kicked in. After a time of chilling out at the top of the waterfall, we headed back down the trail. Talk about a test of courage! Before, we were walking up the waterfall, not knowing how far down it was. Now we were walking down it, see the depth and magnitude of it unfold before our eyes. Again, I was glad I wasn’t walking. I had a nice view, though. Once the trio made it to the shuttle, they headed to the pizzeria for dinner. Again, nothing. I think I saw a Sierra Club member at the next table; before I could alert him to the horrid conditions they were putting me in, we left. Tomorrow was the last day in Yosemite, so they had planned on getting up early. Me, I was going to plot their impending doom. Or sleep. Whichever comes first.

Friday, April 24th

Today is our last day in Yosemite. The plan is to do some sightseeing in the morning, return the rental car to the Fresno airport, and then have Scott drive us to Reno, where we will stay the night and fly from tomorrow morning. Got that? Good. And away we go. First stop: Yosemite Falls. The day was much cooler than the rest of the week by about 20 degrees. I was starting to chicken bumps, it was so chilly. Did they offer me a scarf or a cloth to keep warm? Of course not! They proceeded to put on their sweatshirts and then headed down the trail. At least I was somewhat warm in John’s pant’s pocket. As disgusting as that sounds, it wasn’t too bad. And I didn’t get wet from all of the spray that was soaking the rest of them. We did our loop and then headed out towards the park’s entrance/exit. They stopped at another waterfall (Bridalveil Falls) for a quick pic in the rain, and then went up the road. Another stop for a picture with the Yosemite Valley behind them (how many pictures do they need? And was I in any of them? Of course not), and then they headed to the Grant Grove of Sequoia Trees. I had already seen them, so I stayed in the car while John and Julie showed Scott around. Apparently, he had never seen the trees before! They headed back into their cars (me with Scott, Julie with the rental) and then headed to Fresno. Julie returned the car, Scott picked her up, and then we began the long trek towards Reno. First, we had to go through the valley. Fields as far as the eye could. If only I could get out and see what kind of food I could eat … But no, we were on a mission to get to Reno before sundown. Apparently, Scott didn’t want to be driving in the mountains at dark. Up through Donner Pass (where I prayed there wasn’t a lost party of gold prospectors) and then down towards Reno. It was getting towards dusk, so all of the casinos were lit up and blinking their names. Personally, I was exhausted from this trip out west and was ready to go home. Show me to my bed and I’ll hit the hay. Scott pulled into his driveway, introduced us to his sick roommate John (hopefully he doesn’t want any fresh chicken noodle soup) and then we went to sleep. We had to be up bright and early the next morning to get to the airport and check in. I slept peacefully, knowing that a great meal was awaiting me when I got home (hopefully at the Clarks – they feed me well!)

Saturday, April 25th

Well, our vacation is finally over. We’re almost in Bloomington, and what an exciting day it was! First, we woke up and got us some breakfast. Rather, the “humans” did. Again, nothing for me. We move so much that I’m having a difficult time finding a local PETA chapter. But once we get to Bloomington, I’m lodging a complaint for inhumane treatment of me! They finished their dinner, the brother dropped off John and Julie at the airport, we made it through security in Reno, and boarded our plane to Denver. No snow here today; just sunny skies and a 2 hour layover. Time to chill out and relax before we go home to Peoria. Then we boarded the plane to Peoria, of which I got my own seat! Finally! Some respect! Of course, Julie got me in trouble with the stewardess, so I had to be on my best behavior. When we landed in Peoria, the stewardess bid me farewell. I thanked her for a lovely trip. Better be on her good side; you never know when she’ll be my stewardess again! We gathered up our gear, got into the car, and almost made it home when John had a “Home Alone” moment! “Oh my God! I left my camera on the plane!” Julie turned around to go back to the airport, got a speeding ticket en route, and dropped John off at the terminal. He came back 15 minutes later without a camera. Apparently, no one turned it in. I sort of feel sorry for him. All of those pictures (some of them of me) gone; all he has is his memory, which is sketchy at best. At least Julie took some pictures. Which I’m SURE John will post soon. Right, John? Right? Anyway, the trip out West was amazing and fun and hot and cold and strenuous and wet and breathtaking and steep and exhilarating and exhausting and necessary. I love getting back to nature; being stuck in an apartment all day really makes me appreciate the great outdoors. I can’t wait for next trip. Hopefully I don’t make it into any of Paula Deen’s recipes!