Day 1: Oooh, Devil’s Postpile! Amazing columnar basalt formations! Interpretive signs! Nerd heaven! *GACK* ALTITUDE! Please allow me to quietly perish.
Day 3: I’M ALLLLIVE! YAAAAY! And I love the rocky bleak alpine zone and I saw a marmot and they look like chubby puppy-rodents and we are camping underneath pink glaciers! Oh. Where did the skin on my heels go?
Day 4: Hobbit Day, in which we sleep late, eat five meals, and take all day to wander out of a flat flat canyon. Would hobbits roast marshmallows in as farewell to hiking buddies? Probably.
Day 5: GRRR CLIMBING CATHEDRAL PASS MAKE MIRIAM STRONG. Thirteen miles is nothing to STRONG MIRIAM. I give the Colombia Finger the finger! We collapse at 4 PM. Bubo the Blister is born on Eric’s left big toe (and it covers ALL of his left big toe), soon to be joined by Bubette on his right big toe.
Day 6: Second Skin (so many thanks to taod) temporarily keeps Bubo and Bubette at bay. We ditch our packs and frolic up Half Dome, chortling as we pass endless lines of day hikers. We clamber up the cables and (as Jives put it) play Jenga with our lives. We frolic back down. Where are our packs? SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT. We find the packs scattered across a hillside, side pockets clawed up and bear barrels tossed about. No losses except minor pack damage. We marvel at incredible bear boldness, realize that Yosemite bears truly are in a class of their own. Hike down to Little Yosemite campsite, more frolicking in gorgeous clear Merced River.
Day 7: Second Skin stretched to limit. I think I see bone through heel, Eric thinks he sees alien baby in Bubo. We hike out to Happy Isles, past thousands and thousands of day hikers going the other way. Nevada and Vernal Falls very pretty, tourists very confused by our packs and general stench, we are glad people are engaging with nature but wonder why they all have to do it in the very same place.