Yosemite, Sequoia And Death Valley
After four hectic days in San Francisco, Craig and I decided that it was time for a little P&Q. And so with a whole lot of aggressive homeless people chasing us out of of the Golden Gate City, we headed towards Yosemite National Park.
Before doing that however, we decided to try the wine country in California, also known as the Napa Valley. The same place that spawned the infamous phrase uttered by one, Carrie Bradshaw "If you get tired you take a Napa, you don't you go to Napa!". It was absolutely amazing. The Yarra Valley is stunning, but the Napa Valley is simply breathtaking. It was so picturesque - we went to the Domaine Chandon winery, and it was just beautiful. The scenery was stunning and the service at the winery was second to none. We also went to a winery that specialised in red wine known as the Franciscan Winery. Again, very pretty and just like the reds, my face went bright red after that!
After leaving the Napa Valley, we passed a couple of outlet malls. And man, do the Americans know how to do outlet malls! This is where I teach you how to get a designer wardrobe for under 2000 dollars (excluding your airfare to the US).
1. Hire a car.
2. Go to outlet mall.
The outlet mall that we went to had the standards: Calvin Klein, Levis, etc. But then the other one we went to had: Ralph Lauren, Burberry (!), Coach... I have never seen a Burberry Scarf for under a 100 bucks, but there it was!!! Again, the Americans know how to discount heavily, and this was sooo evident by the markdowns. And they're not factory seconds, but actual stuff that's a season behind. Craig bought a pair of Levi's for 50 AUD!
We then realised that we were way behind time if we were to make it to Yosemite before midnight, so we headed to Sacremento, California's state capital. It's a nice little town that also has an "Old Town" which has been done up to look like a Gold Rush town. Think Ballarat on steroids. After an amusing parking incident where I tried to parallel park on the wrong side of the road (it involved me getting out in a huff and Craig having to park the car... only to have the whole street laugh at me), we had a bit of a wonder. And after five minutes and an enormous ice cream cone later, we were on our way to Yosemite.
The drive was long. It was hard. It also involved me driving on ice and snow for the first time in pitch black darkness. The conversation in the car while I was driving went something like this:
Jon: "The road looks really dusty and that rock on the side of the road looks really shiny."
Craig: "Uh Jon. That would be snow on the side and ice on the road."
Jon: "Oh. That also explains why it's so cold."
Craig (rolling eyes): "Yes."
So after a very lonely stretch of road and fearing for our lives as we realised that we didn't have any chains, were driving on snow and quite often on the edge of a cliff, we arrived... at the wrong hotel.
"Oh no, you want Yosemite Lodge by the Falls. We're Yosemite Lodge."
CRAP.
So driving back through the ice and snow and into what could have been the great abyss off a cliff for all I knew, we finally arrived in the Yosemite Lodge by the Falls Hotel. And we fell asleep as soon as we arrived (after the warnings about the bears... remove all food from the car).
The next morning we woke up to what could only be described as a Winter Wonderland. It was simply marvellous. And we saw the big mother of a mountain that we drove down to get into the park! But the mountains were snow capped, the fields were snow capped, the hotel was snow capped and there were deer. But it was so amazing.
Craig booked us in for brunch at the Awahnee Hotel where the Queen and the Clintons stay when they're in Yosemite. The dining room was so grand, and after 5 trips to the buffet, I was ready to be rolled out into the snow to cool down. We went on a guided walk with the ranger (an absolute cack) which was great, if only had the woman from Venice stopped asking dumb questions such as:
"Do you get Dingoes here?" or my favourite: "Is this this mountain as tall as Ayers Rock?" One of those people that I wanted to secretly punch in the back of the head.
The next day we took a walk to the lower falls of Yosemite Valley. The water falls are amazing as when the water hits the rocks, it becomes ice. It was spectacular and again, breathtaking.
We then left Yosemite and headed off to Sequoia National Park.
Sequoia National Park is named for the enormous Sequoia trees that grow there. The park is home to the world's largest living tree, General Sherman (the volume is in the trunk, much like many American women). Let me say that I did not expect Sequoia to have more snow than Yosemite. Sequoia is at a higher elevation that Yosemite at 7000+ feet (2000+ metres), and hence had a lot more snow. The only problem being that the GPS didn't have the road that our hotel was on, it was basically keep driving and hope that we don't get eaten by a bear, or get frozen solid first. So after driving along the road hoping a magical turnoff would supposedly appear to our hotel, a snow capped sign finally jumped out at us pointing to our accommodation. YAY!!!
We checked into the very lovely Wuksachi Lodge (after yet another bear warning), with a very very lovely central lodge where reception, restaurant, bar and conference rooms were located. The room itself was lovely and very warm (we had a queen size bed as well as an extra sofa bed). The hotel was snow capped, and was so snowed in that little lane ways needed to be plowed to connect the central lodge with the rooms. So just imagine your window looking out over a snow capped forest... and hoping not to see a bear.
After checking in, we decided to see the "Oldest Living Tree in the World", General Sherman. Given that we had a convertible (and despite the fact that it was about 0 degrees), we cruised on in with the top down. THANK GOD FOR HEATED SEATS! Surprisingly enough, with my butt toasting on the heated seats, I could not feel the cold at all.
Upon arriving at General Sherman, we saw a few other people milling around taking photos. And we came upon our favourite couple for the holiday. While we were taking photos of us and the tree, I noticed that there was a couple sitting nearby talking quite loudly. After snapping photos of Craig and him of me for a while, I suddenly heard in what I thought was a very New York accent:
"You guys want a photo together?"
And so it came to be that Marcos and Jamie Gonzalez became good friends of ours. After talking for a bit and comparing the US's welfare system (abysmal) to Australia's welfare system (less abysmal), discovering a mutual love of travel, and realising that we were staying at the same hotel, they soon figured that they'd never shake us off... and people who know us well, know what Craig's like (talks to anything that moves). At one point, Craig told me to go to the tree so he could take a long distance shot. So I ran to the tree (rather inelegantly in the deep snow) and waited. But then he got to talking again. And I waited. And waited. And waited. I pretty much almost decked him when I ran back to him.
That night at the Wuksachi, we had dinner with Marcos and Jamie and chatted into the wee hours of morning. Until we realised that we had to leave pretty close to the wee hours of morning to Death Valley, given that they'd closed a few of the roads off. So instead of taking a fairly direct road, we had to circumvent the national parks and take the long way in. Jamie and Marcos advice for Death Valley: Bring heaps of water.
So after a full breakfast (who serves a full serving of french toast with a breakfast wrap?!) and a fairly short sleep, we set off for the one of the driest, hottest places on Earth: Death Valley. Yes, and just like the name suggests, it really is a desert and it gets up to almost 52 degrees Celsius in the Summer. Literally hot enough to fry an egg on the road, except it'd be gritty and gross. But while driving to Death Valley, we had a rather scenic drive out of Sequoia; purchased three three litre bottles of water and passed through two cities that literally stank. We couldn't quite figure out what it was (and why the locals didn't notice it) - it could have been the sewerage, or the obese skanky sweat all around us... either way, Tulare and Bakersfield were not pleasant. And the fact that Craig got served a beef burrito at Carl's Junior Family Restaurant didn't help either. I can still taste the crap.
We pushed on. We filled up with petrol expecting no more petrol outlets in Death Valley. We headed into the Mojave Desert expecting to see nothing for ages... but there were more petrol stations than I could count on my fingers. After a slight hallucination and a nice windy drive into Death Valley in pitch black darkness. I too was beginning to see that I got all the "interesting" driving periods. And given that our hotel again wasn't in the GPS, and the address of the hotel was "Highway 40, Furnace Creek", we did get slightly worried driving after driving for a few hours in Death Valley itself. I couldn't have been happier when I finally saw the lights of the town in Furnace Creek, the only little township in the Death Valley National Park. I couldn't have been more disappointed to find however that the hotel receptionist had a full set of teeth and didn't look like the crypt keeper.
After a night at the Furnace Creek Ranch, it was time to head out to Vegas... but after one more adventure out in the wilderness (as if bear warnings and non-existent hotels weren't enough). It was time to head out to the legendary Area 51. The much mythicised Area 51 is actually a US Army Base in the state of Nevada. It was at this point I realised: WE WERE STILL IN CALIFORNIA. It was true what they said: You can ski in the morning and swim in the evening. Truly amazing.
Jamie and Marcos warned us about driving the Highway 375 in Nevada, also known as the Extraterrestrial highway. Named for its proximity to Area 51 and the numerous reported UFO sightings on the highway. At a certain time in the day, US aircraft will use cars along the freeway as target practice and purposely drive very low to the cars before shooting off. And if you get too close to Area 51, before you can say "Mulder and Scully" you will be surrounded by the military. So we decided on two things:
1) We would drive Highway 375 in the day time. As Craig put it: "If we were driving in the evening and I saw a light flashing, I would wee myself.
2) We would keep to the highway, thereby reducing the chances of the military approaching us.
After several miles on the extraterrestrial highway, we got a little bored. Where were the low flying planes that road signs kept warning us about? Where were the UFOs? All we saw were suicidal birds that flew out at you when you car approached (go figure), and several road signs dotted with bullet holes. Yes, bullet holes. The locals must be an riveting bunch.
In the middle of the highway, we stopped at the Ale-E-Inn hotel which stocked lots of alien paraphernalia. But when the locals don't really believe, it sort of spoils the fun. Although they were weird looking.
Further down the highway we passed the alien museum (shut), and proceeded to Vegas (open 24 hours). We were about 150 kilometers from Vegas when Craig and I noticed a rather bright glow just over the mountains. Oh my God. It WAS Vegas.
