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To enjoy Sierra bliss head up into snow country for some fun
IT’S SNOW TIME IN THE 209
sonoa pass may
DENNIS WYATT/209 Living The scenery while hiking north of Sonora Pass in mid-May.

 

I had moved to Manteca the previous year.

It was my first trip to Yosemite National Park that wasn’t on a bicycle crossing Tioga Pass at 9,943 feet. 

Gary Pogue — who I spent a lot of time cycling with — convinced me I was missing out on something even more fun than pedaling a 15-pound racing bicycle with 700cc tires up grueling climbs such as Geiger Grade to Virginia City, Mt. Rose Highway out of Incline Village., or heading up Tioga Pass from Lee Vining.

What I was missing out on was cross-county skiing.

And since I now lived 2½ hours away from Yosemite I’d be crazy not to give it a try.

I clearly wasn’t wild about the idea.

I’m not exactly coordinated. And given some of the people I’ve know who got injured downhill skiing I had no desire to see how good by hospitalization coverage was with Blue Cross.

Gary somehow managed to convince me. He scheduled a weekend and I rented cross-country skis at the Ski Chalet in Stockton.

Our goal that fateful snow-covered late January day was Glacier Point.

It was a 21-mile round trip from Badger Pass Ski resort now known simply known as Yosemite Ski Area. Either which way, it is the oldest ski resort in California and one of only three ski areas with lifts in a national park.

First, though, Gary thought a short warm-up trip to the tunnel tree in Tuolumne Grove near Crane Flat was in order.

Did I mention I had never been on any type of skis before?

A young foal trying to stand up for the first time was less wobbly than I was.

I’ll admit when I got moving it was faster than hiking. But with hiking I didn’t feel as if it as going to do a face plant or end up slamming butt first into the ground at any second.

When we reached the “dead giant” — a giant sequoia that is 29 feet at the base and had a tunnel cut through it in 1878 — Gary suggested we ski through it.

There were a group of skiers and hikers sitting near the base.

I took one look at it and said no way.

Gary saw an easy thrill. I saw myself as a great story for the strangers to tell family and friends about the uncoordinated guy who tried to ski through a tree and ended up slamming into it.

I also noticed what I thought was iced over snow on the other side.

Gary said he was going to go ahead if I didn’t.

The strangers got up and moved away.

Gary skied through and ended up unceremoniously on his keister.

Smartphones were invented way too late.

 After that we headed toward Badger Pass.

Gary tried to build up my confidence by noting the trail to Glacier Point was essentially well-groomed by other skiers given it was popular and was on top of the Glacier Point Road.

To this day I don’t know what he was thinking — or me for that matter.

He assumed because I could do 100-mile bike rides on back-to-back days that somehow it would translate with being able to not just go 21 miles round trip on skis without ever having skied but to gain 1,300 feet along the way in elevation.

I wasn’t having much fun. Freely translated I was constantly in fear of falling down.

I believe I voiced my concern if I was so unsure of myself going uphill the last thing I wanted to do was be on skis coming downhill.

It  was kind of academic because it was becoming clear to me I was going to have as heart attack if I kept trying to ski uphill.

So, Gary decide we could so some “wilderness” skiing.

Let’s cut to the chase.

Even though I was smart enough to know about icy areas on the north side of trees that don’t get as much sun when it comes to fallen snow, I was blissfully unaware of the fact there are often air pockets around trees that have snow around their base especially on the south side.

To this day I’m sure Gary did what I’m about to describe on purpose.

He told me to follow him. I did.

We kept moving past trees until he got what he wanted — my sinking into the snow with two skis strapped to my feet.

The reason I know that he had this planned was as I sunk he whipped out his camera.

I believe I sank at least three or so feet.

I vowed to one  day get even.

I still owe him one which is why I’m sure he’s not likely to take me up on an offer to go snow hiking out of Sonora Pass in midspring  any time soon.

I never got into skiing per se not because of my trip to Yosemite with Gary. It has more to do with the fact I dislike putting on tire chains as much as I dislike getting a letter from the IRS informing me I’m the lucky winner of a full-scale tax audit.

That said, I love hiking in  the snow.

In years when Mother Nature cooperates and the roads have opened, I head to Yosemite Valley in  early spring and hike up to the southern rim to make my way through snow that is still several feet deep using crampons and hiking poles.

And some of the best times I’ve had is hiking above 10,000 feet in the eastern Sierra in early summer in stretches of snow that is still several feet deep.

Several years ago, hiking to Paiute Pass I came into heavy snow that last eighth of a  mile below the 11,423-foot pass that obscured the trail.

I lost my footing and had to use a snow ax to stop my descent.

It was the first time actually using a snow ax. Rest assured after I bought the snow ax from REI I watched a YouTube instructional video a good two dozen times mimicking the correct procedures so it was etched in my memory.

I had gone downhill about 200 feet stopping a good 150 feet of so from a pretty significant drop off.

I managed to remain calm the entire time.

Clearly it was a much more serious situation than my aborted assault on Glacier Point with Gary. But that first time — and last time — on skis still terrifies me to think about .

That said, there is nothing to compare with the solitude of Yosemite’s grandeur draped in snow  or that of the Sierra.

Yosemite is a great place to ski, snow-shoe or just hang out in the valley taking in the world famous granite draped in snow during the winter.

 

To contact Dennis Wyatt, email dwyatt@mantecabulletin.com