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fresno and yosemite I left the house at six in the morning and headed north for Fresno. Both Trish and Joann had warned me about the fog near Fresno, but the area called the Grapevine still took me by surprise. Trish had described it as a big hill, but that didn't quite prepare me for what I was confronted with when I left Los Angeles. As I exited Los Angeles the ground started to rise and so did my concern. Where was I going? There were signs instructing me to turn off my air conditioner for the next six miles to prevent overheating. Then there were signs saying I could get water for my radiator. Trucks were to gear down and drive in the far right hand lane only. The only real signs of civilization was the road I was on and the warning signs next to it. Somehow I had been transported to the hills of MASH with no helicopters in sight. I started to think how did people cross these hills a century ago. Then I started to wonder why they would try to do such a thing. Maybe they didn't cross these hills, but wandered further south to get to the ocean. All of these things as well as visions of vultures crossed my mind as I drove on and on listening to bad morning radio. Then the law of what goes up must come down came into effect. I was hurtling down out of the hills at about seventy five to eighty miles an hour with very little effort on my part. The acceleraor wasn't needed. Gravity was propelling me forward and I was just along for the ride. I am sure that I could have achieved higher speeds if I didn't brake every so often. Soon I was back on level ground and headed toward Bakersfield. Fresno was still hours away and I didn't know what to expect next on my trip. Trish was right about the fog. It made its appearance about an hour south of Fresno. Soon I was moving along at about sixty miles an hour wondering when the fog would lift and why so many people behind me thought that I knew where I was going. No one would pass me, but they would follow me. Trish and I had decided ahead of time that we would go to Yosemite. So after a quick lunch and tour of Fresno we were off. We talked as I drove and Trish would point out some of the highlights along the way. Despite the awkwardness of having just met I thought that we got along pretty well in the car. Silence would be very noticeable inside a car, but we managed to keep up a steady stream of conversation. Gradually the landscape started to rise once again and turn off lanes became quite frequent. I had no idea how far away Yosemite was from Fresno, but I kept on driving. Finally we entered the park and then we really started to climb. My ears would pop as I drove from four thousand feet to six thousand feet with very little between my car and the edge of the cliff. I asked Trish if the curb was there so when you heard the bump you knew that you were going over the edge. Then at last we reached our destination. El Capitan was in our sight and Trish demonstrated the proper tourist pointing technique. You'll have to take my word on this point, because I had forgotten to bring a camera along with me. I guess if I had been thinking I could have gotten one of those disposable cameras, but I didn't. At least I have my genuine map of Yosemite National Park handed to me in exchange for twenty dollars when I entered the park. After a worthy amount of gawking we got back inside the car and headed for the sacred gift store. Once we were there we found such valuables as the coveted Yosemite shot glass and a raccoon puppet. I was almost overwhelmed by the treasures there. There were key chains, t-shirts, postcards and even Yosemite mouse pads. Sadly I couldn't bring myself to purchase any of these fine products. Then we got back in the car and started the drive back to Fresno as it grew dark. My newly acquired mountain driving skills lulled Trish to sleep as we plummeted down the road with the setting sun blinding me every so often. Soon we were back in the fair city of Fresno where we ate supper, lingered in Tower Records and rented some movies.
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