Have you ever been West? When I was in my early 30’s, I found adventure following along with someone else’s adventure. A friend of mine, Adam, (not his real name) invited me to go hiking in Yosemite National Park. He was going to climb Lost Arrow Spire, a singular piece of rock formation that juts out from the side of a mountain. The spire is exceptional because it sits adjacent to Upper Yosemite Falls, 125 ft out from the rock wall, and 1400 feet from the valley floor.
We, and a couple of other friends, drove to the backside of the falls, which by September, were no longer running, and after six miles of hiking through bear country, we arrived to a granite slab bout 20 yards from the spire. It’s also the same 20 yards until the 1400 ft sheer drop edge of the canyon wall.
We had packed light, there are no trash barrels in the wild, so you pack out what you pack in. We had packaged snacks and MRE’s–meal s ready to eat, and bottles of water to last the three-day stay. We brought only our sleeping bags, as there was no place to anchor a tent.
After set up and lunch, we went to have a look. Now, I have nearly fallen to my death on more than one occasion—stories for another time. However, when I approached the edge and peered over that cliff, a big wave of “Nope” came over me and I backed up a good ten feet or so, so I could calm my nerves and reset my fear factor back from, “Lord, don’t let me die today” to “I wonder what’s behind that door.” We spent the rest of the evening making a small fire and hanging our food to lessen the chance for a bear encounter.
The next morning, we awoke to a visitor—thankfully not a bear, but a deer that had wandered into our campsite. Again thankfully, the deer wandered out again after figuring out we had no food. Definitely something that will wake you up in a hurry.
We were quick to get up after that excitement, and after breakfast, Adam went with Carol to tackle the spire. That left Nick and me to explore the surrounding area for the afternoon. We were camped near Yosemite Falls and so decided to check it out. Turns out, because there is no runoff from the snow in September, the riverbed is mostly empty, except for some tide pools in the bedrock. Nick and I figured you don’t always get the chance to swim in a riverbed tide pool, just a mere 40-50 ft from a 1400 ft sheer cliff—so we took it. It was one of the coolest places I have ever swam-despite the possibility of being washed over the cliff should there be a flash flood. While the odds were low, they’re never zero.
We were taking a break, sunning ourselves on a rock/boulder, when we were greeted by another pair of hikers, coming from the opposite side of the riverbed, apparently with the same inclination to swim in a tide pool at the edge of an abyss. We spent the rest of the afternoon, just four strangers enjoying the sun and the water—on top of the world.
As usual, all good things must end, and we said goodbye to our tide pool companions, and made our way back to camp, where each shared our stories of adventure for the day. We settled in for our last night under the wonderous Milky Way, completely unobstructed and unhindered by the artificial light of man—just the blue-black velvet canvas of the Universe laid bare before us. A map of the cosmos used by thousands before us to chart and mark their place in the world. A map folded and unfolded by time—yet never a tear or fray.
One last clear blue morning. We had breakfast, broke down camp, completed a Foreign Object Debris (FOD) walk to make sure we weren’t leaving any trash behind, and then it was the six-mile trek back to the van and the ride back to civilization and real life.
The Falls are beautiful in the Spring, but to get this adventure, you have to visit in the fall. Otherwise, it could very likely be your last.
Cabinboy