I vaguely remembered as I was hiking yesterday evening back to the Glen Aulin camping area that the bus from Tuolomne Meadows to the valley floor was an early bus and only ran once a day. This recollection was from a telephone conversation I had last week with Bono and Nightingale who had used a series of buses to leave the trail to get to Reno.
So I got up at 5:15 am and quietly packed up all my gear. The surrounding campers were all still in their slumber as I hiked through the campsites to retrieve my food from the bear boxes. I quickly downed a breakfast bar and hiked out to the main entrance of the camping area. Crossing the bridge over the river, I turned onto the PCT to begin the six mile hike back to Tuolomne Meadows. I didn't get very far, maybe 20 steps, when I realized someone behind me was yelling for me to stop. Before I could even turn around my thought was that it was the ranger wanting to see if I had a bear canister. But I was wrong.
Instead, I was greeted by a Search and Rescue team member as I hiked back to the bridge crossing. He asked me if I could help him with any information on a sick hiker. Oh boy. I commented that I had seen the helicopter yesterday evening and thought that they had rescued the guy. He responded that they couldn't spot his tarp tent from the air and gave up trying to find him. My heart sunk and immediately I had a sick feeling in my stomach. So I proceeded with giving this SAR guy all the information I had on the hiker, including what time yesterday I passed him, what the other hikers reported to me, and what I didn't know about the hiker. It became evident to me as we talked that the team of three had hiked to the Glen Aulin site during the night but didn't have good information about where the hiker was in relation to Glen Aulin.
So I gave the search and rescue team a detailed description of the trail for the next eight miles and described the exact point where the sick hiker should be located if he hadn't moved since yesterday afternoon. Then I mentioned that I had an epi-pin with me and asked if they carry them. I was shocked at the response. The SAR guy told me that the National Parks don't allow them to carry epinephrine in the parks because they aren't medical EMT's. Wow. So if someone needs that kind of attention in a National Park, they are out of luck until the SAR guys get the person out of the park to a medical facility or to an EMT. So I asked the guy if he wanted to take my Epi with him. He summoned the SAR leader and they discussed it with me. We agreed that the sick hiker could administer the Epi to himself if he was conscious and needed to use it. So they took my Epi with them and took my address information to return it if they don't have to use it in the rescue. They thanked me for the information, told me that the helicopter was en route to meet them, and began their 8 mile hike to Virginia Canyon.
I began my hike the other direction, now replaying the whole scenario from yesterday again and kicking myself for not staying back with the sick hiker. At the very least I could have flagged down the helicopter yesterday evening when it was trying to locate him. I began to reflect on the fact that I didn't feel guilty about my decision, but that I felt I made a bad decision by not offering to help and treat the hiker. That's why I wanted to get the Wilderness First Aid certification in the first place....to help when the need was there in the backcountry.
So I kept reflecting as I hiked those six miles. They were beautiful miles and I really enjoyed seeing them without the accompanying rain and hail and lightning I had experienced just a day and a half before coming the other way. My feet hurt as I hiked and I knew I had made one good decision to return instead of pressing on through the wilderness. I reached Tuolomne Meadows store around 8:30 am and immediately saw Sisyphus and Todd at the picnic table next to the bus stop. They were equally surprised to see me and quickly I gave them an update on my decision to turn around. They asked me about Craig Smith a.k.a. Cypress, the sick hiker. I gave them the rundown on my experiences and my conversation with the Search and Rescue team early this morning. It was then that I learned the hiker was a northbound thru-hiker. That made me feel even worse for some reason....one of my own...and I didn't help him...what if it had been me instead of him. Anyway, I have to live with my decision and will learn from it.
I checked with Todd who seemed to know a lot about the bus schedule....he said the bus to get me to the valley didn't run until 6:30 pm tonight. So I called Eric and Ashley to give them an update on my condition and to see if they could help me figure out the best way to get back to Portland. They both jumped on the Internet and started looking at options. We agreed I would call them back in about 30 minutes so they could have time to study and figure out the best plan of attack to get me to my west coast home.
Thirty minutes later I stood in line for the pay phone. I finally got my turn and called Eric and Ashley back. We talked about all the options and agreed it would be best for me not to try to hitch back to the east toward Lee Vining and then to hitch north to Reno. The better option appeared to be going west toward Yosemite Valley then to get to Modesto, CA to catch a direct late afternoon flight to Portland. We discussed another option that involved getting to Yosemite Valley then using a variety of means of transportation to get me to Portland from there. So we agreed I would try to get to Modesto and would call to give them updates of my progress.
I needed a sign! I was in a National Park, a place where hitchhiking is absolutely forbidden and the consequences include jail time. Todd and Sisyphus were very helpful, giving me the rundown on the bus that could take me this afternoon at 2:30 pm to Yosemite Valley...too late to get down to Modesto if I used that option. The guys pointed me to the back of the store where they said cardboard boxes were broken down for recycling. I retrieved one and got out my Sharpie to make a sign to hold up on the side of the road. I made a "Modesto" sign. After visiting for several minutes with Sisyphus, Todd, Luke, Molly, Hans, and other hikers who had by now all gathered by the picnic table, I walked over to the road to begin the work to try and get a ride down to the Yosemite Valley area.
I stood with the sign for awhile and didn't get any response from the cars passing by. After thinking about it for a few minutes, I realized that Modesto was too far a destination for people to understand where I was trying to get to, so I returned to the back of the store to get another piece of cardboard. This time I made a sign that said "Y Valley". My hiking friends were still at the picnic table so I chatted again for a few minutes before returning to the road. Again I stood with my sign extended for a long time. Finally a young couple that had passed me turned around and came back to give me a ride. They moved lots of stuff from the back seat to the trunk to make room for me and my pack. I climbed in and we began the 40 mile drive across Yosemite National Park to the Yosemite Valley area. Adam and his girlfriend (I can't remember her name) were from Salt Lake City and had driven 10 hours out to Yosemite to do a week of camping and exploring in the Park. They were nice folks....had the country music blaring, so we didn't talk a whole lot, but the ride was great to have and Adam did a great job paying attention to the curvy road as the miles went by.
At the split of two highways, 140 and 120, Adam and his girlfriend dropped me off at a gas station, the only civilization in the last 40 miles of driving. Still inside the National Park, I knew that I would have to use the Modesto sign to get the next ride down into the valley. I went inside the crowded gas station to get a soda then hiked out to the highway split to begin my quest to get a ride out of Yosemite. Immediately it was obvious this was going to be a difficult ride to obtain. It was late on a Saturday morning and all the traffic was flowing into the Park, there weren't many cars leaving to get out of the Park! At first I stood with the backpack on. It was HOT and I was in the sun and eventually I dropped the pack. After an hour of standing, I finally succumbed to the heat and sat down on the curbside with my sign prominently held beside me and next to the pack.
There were basically three kinds of cars passing me by. There were the convertibles with the midlife crisis folks passing by with their second spouses by their side. Then there were the family vacationers with the car loaded with kids and all their stuff. And finally there were the service vehicles that bring goods to or from the park or keep it tidy and clean. And none of them was going to stop to pick me up to drive me the 85 miles to Modesto. After an hour and a half I gave up. I returned to the gas station and called Eric and Ashley again on the pay phone. Now my goal was to get a ride all the way down to Yosemite Valley to the Yosemite Lodge where at 4:15 pm I could catch an Amtrak bus out.
So I needed another sign as I had already discarded my "Y Valley" sign in the recycling container at the gas station. I poked around the outside of the building. Being in bear country, there was nothing left outside. No dumpster to look inside. No waste containers not bear or rabbit proof. My only hope was to get help from the two busy cashiers inside. And they were inundated with dozens of tourists lined up buying gas and convenience store items. Then I spied some large boxes with toilet paper and paper towels in the room adjacent to the convenience store and next to the men's and women's restrooms. The boxes were stored up high. Ignoring the tourists around me waiting for the restrooms, I reached up for one and brought it down. Got out the pocket knife. I cut one of the flaps of the large box off and returned it to the storage location. I was back in business! The sharpie came out from my pack and I made the sign.
I returned to the highway split, this time on the other side. It was on a bad curve and I knew no one would want to stop there to pick me up. So I hiked a half mile to a better spot with a turnout and some sunshine so they could read my sign. I stood for a half hour as hundreds and hundreds of tourist cars drove by. It wasn't going so well. All I needed was a pickup truck where I could climb in the back! Voila! A red pickup with a couple in the front and two children in the back seat pulled over. They told me to climb into the back of the truck. I told them thanks and that I was trying to get to the lodge. Their tag was an Arizona plate. I climbed in and off we went, 16 miles down to the Yosemite Valley.
The drive was gorgeous and I had stellar views of the cliffs as we proceeded. Half Dome, El Capitan, Bridal Falls, Yosemite Falls....I could see all of them from my viewpoint in the back of the truck. When we reached Y. Valley, there were thousands of cars and tourists crawling all over the place. We got stuck in traffic and finally got close to a stop sign where I could see a large sign pointing right to Y. Valley village and left to the Yosemite lodge. I yelled up to the front and confirmed that they were going to turn right, not left. Since traffic wasn't moving, I hopped out and thanked them for the ride then hiked up to the intersection and turned left to go to the lodge...I'm sure I would have beaten them to the lodge on foot if they had tried to drive there.
It was about a mile walk in 100 degree heat to get to the lodge. I called Ashley while walking to let her know I made it successfully with time to spare. She made a bus/train reservation for me. I had a late lunch at the lodge and located the bus stop for the Amtrak ride out of Yosemite Valley. Then I stayed inside away from the heat until 4 pm, giving myself 15 minutes to wait outside for the bus.
It was on time, and despite the thousands of tourists around, had room on the bus for me and a family of five from Ireland who wanted to ride as well. Off to Merced we went. It took two hours to get to the Amtrak train station there. We offloaded and I went inside to pay for the bus ride and to retrieve my train ticket. Soon I was on an Amtrak train from Merced to Stockton. The train was on time but had to pull over to let trains go by the other way and we were a few minutes late to Stockton. It was now 8:15 pm. I got off the train in Stockton and onto another bus to take me to Sacramento. We got to Sacramento's Amtrak station around 9:20 pm. From there I hailed a cab who took me to the Sacramento airport hotel. At 9:50 pm I checked into the hotel. I was a tired hiker! The plan is to catch a 9:30 am Southwest airlines plane tomorrow morning to Portland.
What a day! Hiking, hitching, buses, trains, cab rides, and a plane next. I was able to hike six miles for free, hitch 56 miles for free, ride 85 miles on the first bus, ride 75 miles on the train, and ride another 50 miles on a bus...all for $41.00, then take a cab ride 10 miles which cost $35.00! You might be able to to tell I'm still not a taxi fan!!! They're too expensive!
The ride from Yosemite to Merced was beautiful, passing through golden foothills then miles of peach trees, corn, soybeans, and vineyards. Merced and Stockton and Sacramento were places I wouldn't want to live. Hot, flat, smog laced, and not the most beautiful areas I've seen in California. And I've seen a lot of it now! More to come....when the foot heals completely "I'LL BE BACK!!!, as the governator of California proclaimed in his Terminator movies.
Thanks again to my wonderful trail angels Ashley and Eric for being my travel coordinators on the fly!
