Yosemite

I couldn’t believe my eyes

In a recent blog I wrote about the Grand Canyon and the power of water to shape a landscape. However, all the geographers and penguins amongst you will know that there is something even more powerful than water – ice. If you want to undertake some serious earthmoving, just call Glaciers R Us. Nowhere, and I mean nowhere, is this more powerfully illustrated than Yosemite National Park in California. If you are ever in San Francisco, take a break from the gay bars and hippy watching and take a trip to Yosemite.

When it comes to glacially formed landscapes, we in New Zealand are pretty schooled up. Whether it’s gazing down onto lake Wakatipu from the Queenstown gondola, or swatting sand flies in Fiordland (why isn’t it spelled Fjordland?), us kiwis are very familiar with what glaciers are capable of. Namely, producing scenery more spectacular than a Dame Edna hairdo. Palmerston North could do well to hire a glacier for a couple of thousand years.

Having been impressed by the beauty of our glacial landscapes, I figured I was well prepared to look at Yosemite through ‘we have this at home’ eyes. Certainly the drive into the park entrance gave little clue of what was to come.

I won’t bore you with the ‘first you see this, then you see that’, or this waterfall is called Bridal Veil (aren’t they all), or the names of the various peaks and knobby bits. No, I will leave the details for you to discover when you visit – and visit you must. Yosemite, and I don’t say this lightly, is the most dramatic and powerful landscape I have ever seen.

Let me elaborate.

By my own assessment, New Zealand’s South Island landscape is incredible. Most winters I stand at the top of the Cardrona ski field and bask in the most spectacular mountain views imaginable. The skiing is just the excuse to get up there. While other skiers are temporarily distracted by my bright yellow plastic raincoat (there does seem to be a correlation between clothing style and skiing skill – need I say more about my skiing ability), they too are clearly blown away by a mountain landscape that makes skiing seem as silly as a pair of short trousers.

Where I’m going with this, is that as kiwis we are well qualified to judge the quality of mountain landscapes. It is within this context that I judge Yosemite. If you asked me for an opinion on a desert landscape, I’d have to say ‘looks pretty good to me but the only desert I’ve ever seen is Palmerston North’s city square’. Therefore, I will leave desert assessments to Australians who despite wanting to cook dead animals at every opportunity, know a thing or two about vast oceans of sand.

Anyway, back to Yosemite. It’s like this. I stood on the Yosemite valley floor on a broad open meadow, edged by conifer and black oak forest interspersed with blossoming dogwood. They in turn flanked by sheer granite cliffs rising majestically straight to heaven, waterfalls delightfully dancing top to toe. I was in it, I was part of it. It enveloped me like a pleasant dream. I was completely surrounded, and I say this with sincerity, surrounded by the most beautiful, powerful, perfect landscape I have ever seen.

Well, not quite perfect. Unfortunately, the valley floor contains lodges, visitor centres, roads, and of course cars – lots of them. But to tell you the truth, man’s unfortunate intrusion didn’t detract from my mountain experience. This is a landscape that, unless you have no soul, simply blows you away.

So there you have it. One man’s opinion, one man’s number one ranking. One man who has seen enough.

Richard Alexander Bain
self confessed mountain man