Michael

For me, special places are where your heart sings, you get a lump in your throat, your soul becomes peaceful and your mind becomes quiet. Everyone has a special place or two; a favorite park, a tree, a certain seashore, restaurant, etc. It doesn’t matter where the place it is. The point is that it affects you on so many levels that you are changed each time you go.

Yosemite National Park is my special place. I absolutely love the entire park, but there is one place that changes me every time I go. There are basically three ways to drive into the park; the northern, middle and southern route. California Hwy 120 is the northern road and the route I frequently take to enter Yosemite.

As I drive the winding roads through forests of Ponderosa Pine, Western Juniper and Jeffrey Pine, my anticipation level steadily increases as my car climbs elevation. I’ve been here so many times that I almost know every curve in the road, every granite rock outcropping and where the spectacular views can be found. The air is crisp up here above 6000 feet. The aromas of conifers touch the senses.

Very near the opening to Yosemite Valley, turning your head west as you drive, gives a view of an open area that dramatically drops off to the right. You can barely get a sense that a river is up ahead and has been working for thousands of years snaking its way through the granite. I’m very close now to my special place and my excitement level is off the scale.

Up ahead, the road turns to the left and immediately on the right is a scenic vista point with a parking area. This is the first moment you can see the valley from Hwy 120. No words make it from my mind to my vocal cords. I walk down the slight embankment towards the valley and then turn slightly to the right and in seconds I cannot see the parking lot at all.

I continue to slowly inch my way down. It becomes steeper with each step I take. I climb down a very sharp drop off. I’ve reached my special place; a small ledge that overlooks the Merced River rushing through the valley almost 2000 feet below me. All I can hear is the river and the wind. No cars. No other people around.

My mind is still. My heart has slowed down. My breath is barely noticeable while my eyes follow the river east up the valley towards El Capitan and Half Dome. I’m like a battery that needs re-charging. This special place gives me a charge that lasts for months. It’s like having years of therapy crammed into 30 minutes. I feel rejuvenated and my belief that all things are possible is renewed. I usually stay for about 30 minutes or so before I begin the long winding drive down to the valley floor.

I do thoroughly enjoy every trip to Yosemite, but that 30 minutes on the ledge changes me, renews me and makes me whole again.

Michael