aANDpAtoPia: From Mountaintops to Tufas

After the great Yosemite Detour of '09, we finally reach the mysterious Hodgdon Meadows (I'm not sure how to pronounce Hodgdon either). The check in booth was empty since it was well after midnight, and there were way too many papers with carious instructions taped to the closed window for my exhausted mind to bother reading. Unfortunately, one of the papers was a list of assigned site numbers for the late check-ins. I rolled past the booth after grabbing a site map and briefly glancing at a different paper that listed available sites. That list was rather long presumably because most people were better informed about the closing of Tioga Pass and had cancelld their reservations. I basically stopped at the first empty site and we groggily set up camp. Shortly we were passed out.

The next morning, I opened the tent and received a face full of ash. As my memory booted up I slowly drew the conclusion that we must be down-wind of the fire. We took down the tent and reloaded the car. Driving out of the campground was eerie, the thick smoke reducing visibility and tinting the light a golden color. We would later learn that the next closest campsite was actually closed because of its proximity to the fire.

It didn't take long to exit the smoke though, and soon the sky cleared up somewhat to reveal an overcast day. The road wound its way through the small peaks of the elevatated mountain plain (relative to the peaks in the valley) while to the south the back of the valley rim was visible. It was odd being more on their level as we had ascended several thousand feet the previous night. One vantage point was especially cool. A gnarled conifer of some kind, I suspect it was a younger sequoia, was literally rooted into the bare rock cliffs that decorate so much of the park. Even lichens have a hard time growing there, but the tree stood strong and sturdy.

Our drive also took us by way of many smaller mountain lakes with crystal clear water. We spent several minutes at this one, dubbed Tenaya Lake, before continuing.

Yosemite is apparently known as a famous rock climbing destination, and several rock climbers were visible from the road climbing the massive granite slabs.

We stopped for lunch in Tuolumne Meadows by a river of the same name. Rolling up some ham and cheese in tortillas, we walked along the bank until we found a nice spot alongside the river. The rocks in the stream were tinged red with iron oxide, and beautiful through the clear water. I imagine people from this area probably don't know what substance runs in our rivers and streams back home considering how every body of water out here is literally crystal clear. Either way we hung out for a bit enjoying the stream, then continued through the meadows and finally out of the park.

But the adventure didn't stop there. Just outside of Yosemite is the strange place known as Mono Lake. It was visible almost as soon as we exited the mountain pass leading out of Yosemite, with two prominent islands looming from its otherwise still mirror surface. Like something out of a nuclear-waste themed story, I turned down Test Station Road which very quickly turned from shotty asphalt to a washboard dirt road. Recalling the episode of Myth Busters where they prove that driving quickly over such roads actually reduces the amount of vibration, I eased the car up to a speedy 35 mph at which point the roughness of the ride actually did decrease a little. To my left, the strange lake sat, very different from the mountain lakes we had just exited. This lake was not surrounded by tall green trees and hills, but instead set in a bowl-like depression, surrounded by nearly white dirt obviously full of limestone, and short, brownish brush. We sped on, kicking up a lot of dust searching for some point of reference to orient ourselves.

Eventually we reached a paved road again and a sign pointing towards the lake which said "South Tufas." I made the turn and soon we were in a parking lot. Stepping out of the car revealed another stark difference from the mountains, namely that the air was much warmer and even slightly humid (though still arid compared to NJ). We found the 1 mi loop trail and set off towards the bank in search of the mysterious rock formations that decorate the lake known as tufas. These rock formations are strangely formed limestone deposits created by fresh water springs containing certain minerals bubbling up from the ground under the very saline lake. Over time, the level of the lake has receded to reveal the entirety of these white spires, some on land and some close to the banks. We inspected the bizarre rock formations, and found that as we approached the water line, the black sediment there would buzz and fly away. Upon closer inspection, we discovered that the entire shoreline was completely covered in small black flies. Several seagulls patrolled the area, occasionally opening their beaks and charging through the thick mat of flies in order to scrounge up a truly horrifying meal.

We also took a video of the flies if you want to disgust yourself. Warning, Pri took the video blair witch style.

CLIP OF SHORELINE FLIES
We completed the loop and returned to our car. A short drive later and we were at the visitor's center up above the lake where a few other tufas were visible. Also, there was a gigantic piece of obsidian there. I forget why exactly they had it on display, but I do recall feeling obligated to take a photo with it.

We then stopped at Mono Cone in the small town, because we had clearly earned some ice cream. I went all out with a root beer float which was awesome but made me feel sick for the rest of the day.