Over the years of adventuring, I’ve come across a handful of
“warning signs”. Such as the following
sign posted at the start of a canyoneering route in White Canyon, southern
Utah.
Yes, people have died in that
canyon. People have also died getting
out of the bathtub. Yes, the potential
for danger* was present throughout the entire canyoneering route, yet being
smart adults, we exited unscathed.
*(nominal dangers such as: flooded sections
filled with debris (think Star Wars trash compactor), upright log blocking path
(created a loop step out of webbing that we had brought, so we could hoist
ourselves up and over), and as the photo shows, one log holding back A LOT of
debris) |
| Just a nominal danger.... |
Yesterday, I went hiking to the top of Yosemite falls and along
the way I was warned about the potential for “rock fall”. Yup, a rock could crash down upon me. I see rocks littering the roadways quite
often. Alas, I again exited unscathed.
 |
| Upper Yosemite Falls and Half Dome |
 |
| The reward for hiking up dozens, DOZENS, of switchbacks |
But alas, this Sunday morning I thought I’d entertain a gentle
stroll to the Merced Grove of Sequoia trees.
Of course, at the trailhead I was greeted by the following sign (dated April 2013):
Well, too late, I drove a ways to get here and had imagined
myself sitting beneath a Sequoia tree reading passages from John Muir’s “The
Yosemite”. I immediately found a weapon
(I mean hiking stick) and in my mind ran through scenarios of how I would come
out victorious against a mountain lion.
As I was hiking alone with my mind, off to the races went
the imagination, and my senses heightened exponentially. Mtn. lion? No, a squirrel running across a
log, a flutter on the forest floor, just a bird. Why are there flies buzzing
here? Begin the search for a dead animal stashed in the above tree limbs! Begin
formulating a plan to descend from a 100 some foot Ponderosa Pine. Good thing
the bark has lots of texture aka foot and hand holds! I did make it to the
grove of Sequoia trees, but heard something moving along the forest floor that
I couldn’t discern, so 180* I went, keeping an eye over my shoulder.
After passing a man heading into the grove, I relaxed a bit
knowing that there was another human along the trail. I managed to relax enough
to take out the binoculars and pause to see a Winter wren, pileated and downy woodpecker, Dark-eyed junco (Oregon
population), and listen to the ethereal call of the hermit thrush. Did I learn my lesson about hiking alone,
striding past signs warning about mountain lions? Well, in the words of John Muir, “But in the face of Yosemite scenery
cautious remonstrance is vain; under its spell one’s body seems to go where it
likes with a will over which we seem to have scarce any control.” -The Yosemite
