Wilderness Travel in Yosemite 2018: Of Fire and Thunderstorms (Pt. II)

Vogelsang Trail, Yosemite National Park, July 23, 2018.

(This is the second part in a three part series. Read Part I Here)

I'm attracted to older, decaying, dying and dead trees. The fascination began as a youth when first seeing a leaf skeleton. Who knew leaves had bones! When I first hiked in the Sierras in my early twenties, it was the twisted remnants of the Foxtail Pines and hardy weather worn cedars that drew me. They have so much more character than their healthy younger relatives!

It was late July for this trip, which is springtime at the higher elevations of the Sierra Nevadas. At about 9,200 feet, the forest was familiar: mixed conifer with granite boulders and grasses. Occasional patches of color dotted the trail as chipmunks scurried about doing their business. The last of the humans had passed--it was about 5:00 P.M. and I still had about three miles to my first night's camp at Vogelsang.

The gray sky coupled with the smoke from the Ferguson Fire didn't lend itself to crisp clear photos, but did offer muted lighting, revealing more subtle characteristics of the forest. Since my pace was still quite slow--the pack still weighed about 40 pounds  and my lungs were still wrestling with elevation and smoke--I took in the sights, noticing interesting angles, lighting or composition and shot a photograph here and there. I still rested often.

The angry sky stamped its feet here and there and within a mile, large drops pelted the ground again. This time, feeling a little more seasoned, rather than sheltering in place, I leaned my backpack down under a large cedar and rested against another. The trees' thick canopy held the moisture at bay and I pulled out the camera, giggling, and shot some video footage of the oversized rain to share with Jim. It's exciting to be in a storm!

Vogelsang Trail, Yosemite National Park, July 23, 2018

CRRRUUUMMMPPPPBBBBBBCCccccrrrrrraaaaaaaaaccccccckkkkk!!!!

Whoa!!!

I guess confidently laughing and giggling during a storm just invites a  intensely humbling response from Mother Nature!

The drops gave way to hail and pelted and bounced off the now wet ground. The temperature suddenly dropped and the wind whipped up. Shoot! I was still in my hiking sandals and shorts. The trees reached their saturation point, now leaking water as the lightening got brighter and thunder louder.

I pulled out the footprint/tarp and swiftly tied it up in some smaller neighboring trees. Underneath was a large granite boulder--perfect for sitting, if I weren't too scared to touch it now because of the warning.

Hugging the south side of Johnson Peak, the Vogelsang trail is at the base of a literal mountain of granite--the exact thing the ranger cautioned me about. Huddled under the tarp where the granite boulder took up most of the space, I sat wavering back and forth crouched on my tippy-toes, shivering from fright and cold and making sure to not touch the boulder.

CRRRUUUMMMPPPPBBBBBBCCccccrrrrrraaaaaaaaaccccccckkkkk!!!!

Holy S&%*!!!

The lightening was BRIGHT! I saw the lightening while crouched face down! "Oh shit!"

The rumbling spilled through the canyon and valley, bouncing off and rolling down Johnson Peak and roaring through my body. Roaring. Through. My. Shivering. Quaking. Body. "Oh my God! Oh my God!"

This was it. My mind reeled for a solution. There was absolutely. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing I could do. I was as sheltered in place as I could possibly be.

The roiling thunder uprooted the whole landscape. The ground shook beneath me. Living in an area where we experience earthquakes on an almost weekly basis, were in not for the excruciatingly ear-splitting rumble that followed, I would have guaranteed it was an earthquake.

What was the time ratio of thunder to lightening for gauging distance? Five seconds for every mile? One second for every five miles? Let's see, one, two, three---BRRRRAAACCCCCKKKK! Whoa! At this point it didn't matter. It was here and I was right underneath it!

My body spontaneously shuddered and quaked, my senses were alert and mindful awareness of the predicament strong and clear.

The light shot just above me on the peak--maybe three hundred meters away. "Oh shit! Oh shit! Here it comes!" I cried as I covered my ears. The long explosion ripped and rippled through the air.

"OOOOKKKAAAYYYYY God, I get it!!!! I get it!!! I'm nothing! I'm nothing in comparison to You!!!"

(To be continued....)

~JoAnn Saccato, MA, is a mindfulness teacher, life coach, author and consultant. She is the author of Companioning the Sacred Journey: A Guide to Creating a Compassionate Container for Your Spiritual Practice and Mindful and Intentional Living: A Path to Peace Clarity and Freedom.

Mindfulness is a popular health and wellness practice based on purposefully paying kind, non-judgmental attention to direct experience. It is a scientifically proven approach that helps reduce stress and stress-related illnesses, increase focus and attention, decrease incidences of and relapses with depression, reduce anxiety, reduce relapses in addiction, and aids in sleep and digestive disorders. It has also been shown to increase well being, life satisfaction and happiness, as well as improved social relationships.

You can reach JoAnn at JoAnn@MindfulAndIntentionalLiving.com . To follow her and receive a free guided loving kindness meditation and webinar to help you sleep better, visit: www.MindfulAndIntentionalLiving.com