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Tuesday, October 9, 2012


October 9, 2012

I just spent the most amazing weekend in Yosemite National Park with some of the best people in Los Angeles.  Some really great friends met up with me at the campsite on Friday night.  First, I had to stop at the mountain store to pick up supplies.  I remember being shocked as soon as I left the city and made a stop.  I forgot… Hill People!  As I may have mentioned before, I am from South Carolina.  We have our share of rednecks and hill people; I just wasn’t expecting them so far from the south.  Apparently, every mountain town across the US has them.  I’ve been living in cities way too long.  But there is a difference between the rednecks that I grew up with and the hill people that I ran into.  The rednecks that I’m referring to are not the ones that dress up in white cloaks or hate people indiscriminately.  They may not be the most educated or classy, but they’re good people.  The hill people up Yosemite way struck me a little different.  They were very skeptical and untrusting.  I'm sure they see their fair share of tourists and people from all over, and let's face it, people are idiots.  So, I may have had some of that same air about me when I approached.  
When I entered the market, there were two cashiers: one older lady with white hair and another woman with bad teeth.  I walked in with a big smile and looked them both in the eye, like my momma taught me, and gave a proper greeting.  I asked a few questions about supplies and they were quick to get rid of me, no time for chitchat.  At home in small towns, people always have time to chew the fat, especially if it’s their place of business and you’re a customer.  Anyway, I pay it no mind and get to shopping.  Being out of my element and running behind schedule, I had to go back to the checkout three times.  No biggie, it’s not like there was a line to wait for.  But nonetheless, on the third time with the same cashier and she had no sense of humor about it at all.  I seemed to think it was kind of funny and my silent smile tried to say it all.  This time, I was buying the beer.  She asks for my ID and I oblige.  She gives it a good hard look, and then looks at me.  She says, “it doesn’t look like you”.  Taken aback, I wasn’t sure if she was serious.  She was, and didn’t look like she was going to back down.  Here it is minutes from closing time, dark outside, I have to set up camp, and this woman is giving me grief about my ID.   “Well, I’m 31.  There’s no way around that.”  She ultimately scans it and I’m on my way.
After securing some bacon, fruit, bread, marshmallows, and of course beer, I arrived at about 9pm.  The nighttime did not scare me away from setting up camp like it did with the two parties that showed up early next morning.  Tim’s car showed up carrying four at 3am.  Nicky and Alex get there an hour later.  Somehow, sleeping in the car was ok for six people.  I woke in the middle of the night expecting them, but not expecting them to be sound asleep.  Now before I admit to being a dick, I just woke up, I have not slept a whole lot in a couple of days, and my senses were playing tricks on me.  What I thought was happening, was that Nicky and Alex just rolled up and everyone was making their “hellos”.  I got some warm clothes on and unzipped my door and faced the cold.  While crossing camp, it was pitch black, freezing cold, and quiet as a dead mouse.  I saw the second car had arrived and I wanted to welcome them.  I shined my light through the window and didn’t see anything.  Then, for some reason, I started rocking the car back and forth.  In simultaneous laughter and regret, I must have scared the shit out of them.  They couldn’t tell that it was me and in a waking panic didn’t know what to do.  As Alex put it the next day, “We were thinking, it must be Matt. It has to be!  But it clearly isn’t!” 
Oh well, lesson learned… maybe. 
The rest of the weekend we were “Action Packed!”  We explored Yosemite Valley by day and partied all night.  There were seven of us total and not a single bit of negativity the entire time.  The Yosemite Valley is beautiful.  We were given glorious days to run around and adventure.  We hiked mountains, searched for waterfalls that have already dried up (it’s late in the season), and picnicked in the forest.  Back at camp, we made a bunch of food, maybe too much.  We didn’t even use the three red peppers that Tim bought (what were you thinking:).   The nighttime opened up and left us abusing our brains, burning wood, and telling ghost stories.  Not the scary classic ones, more like the rants from Kevin about how ghosts don’t pay taxes anymore and are freeloaders on the rest of us and all operate on Dragon years.  You had to be there.
They all left Sunday after a hike through the Sequoia trail and left me for one final night.  It was a really sad ‘goodbye’.  Tim's car left first.  It was sad.  Kristina, Tara, and Kevin all rode back with him, and I'll have fond memories of them all.  I had said goodbye to Nicky and Alex in Los Angeles, but this time was for real.  I knew that I was going to meet them in Yosemite and now that it's over, our time quickly becomes the past.  Great times!  Good Friends!  I’m going to miss all of you!  Maybe see you in Austin?
Now back to San Francisco to wait for my friggin' camera.

Here is a link to Nicky's photos of Yosemite: 

This is totally real!

1 comment:

  1. "Is it just me or are all the shadows red?" ~Matt, Yosemite 2012