This time was a bit unusual in that a bunch of chaperones brought their significant others or kids (myself included), so that the adult total far exceeded the usual grown-up to kid ratio. I was going to use aliases, but since half the teachers had the last initial "S" and one of them would probably prefer not to be known as "Mr. Special Ed" (although he may well deserve it), we'll just go with first names.
Our usual crew is me, John (the trip organizer and leader), and my good friends Chris and Tom. Chris brought his wife and two kids, and Tom brought his sweetie Heidi. The newbies were seasoned math teacher Karla (who brought her two sons), amazing Spanish teacher Liz (who roomed with us in our tent), Joel the young ceramics teacher and his girlfriend Katie, new math teacher Michelle, and special ed Bob.
We got out of town with no incidents, but otherwise, the beginning of the trip was somewhat inauspicious. Our usual lunch stop was chain-linked off, so we stopped elsewhere. (In other news, Oakdale fast food restaurants have still not heard of vegetarians.*)
Then we mostly caravanned to the park entrance, where we mostly turned into our campground (it's immediately after the entrance). Two vans, however, did not arrive at the campground. We don't get cell reception there, so we pretty much just had to wait. About 90 minutes later, they both showed up separately, having gotten a pleasant tour of the park (and finally having asked for directions).
After we got our campsite set up, we let the kids play volleyball for a bit and confabbed. Then we rounded everyone up to hike to Mercer Grove. Mercer Grove almost always has a little snow on the ground, usually off to the side of the trail so that it's walkable, yet the kids can throw snowballs. That's what it was like Sunday. I think our failing here was that our usual crew is so comfortable with our habits that we sort of rely on them and assume others will fall in line. For example, Chris is a very fast walker, so generally the rule (unspoken, unfortunately) is that no one gets in front of him. Well, a group got in front of him. And they got to Merced Grove. And they looked around at the giant sequoias and apparently thought, "well, there's nothing here, so this can't be it" and marched forward to find the mythical and perhaps man-made thing at the end of the trail.
It's a long trail, folks. They weren't the only ones who made a wrong turn, despite a GATE being up across the fork that some of the kids took (like, really?), but at least someone caught that group and yelled to them before they went too far. In any case, the upshot was that eventually the group that took off ahead realized that it didn't feel like they'd been on a one-mile hike, and so they turned around and came back the two miles, for a round-trip of four miles. They were exhausted, but at least the rest of us had already gotten dinner on.
That night they walked in the dark to the meadow, where they enjoyed the moon and stars, and I got the kids to bed. One student apparently forgot his backpack, so a few adults went back to the meadow with him to get it, and everyone had gone to bed when they came back, so it was so dark and quiet they took a wrong turn, because they didn't detect our camp!
It was very cold that night, somewhere in the low 40s, I'd guess. I actually had a hard time sleeping, but the kids were okay (except little miss I-can't-use-pit-toilets).
It wasn't as bad as it sounds, but it got better on Monday, when we got our breakfasts and lunches, then got ready for a hike up Vernal Falls and Nevada Falls via the beautiful Mist Trail. We showed the kids how to get to Curry Village, which was our meeting point, and how to take the shuttle, and we gave them the basics of what we would do that day. We try to get everyone through the first (hot, uphill) .8 mile trail to the bridge to see the waterfall. Then we have had a few people turn back and not climb the (wet, steep) stairs to the top of Vernal Falls. Usually, about half the group heads down from there and the other half attempts Nevada Falls. As kids peel off at the various points, adults accompany them back to the meeting point, and then we take them to the Visitors Center.
I ended up having a kid who couldn't handle the first section of the trail. We got almost to the bridge, but the loose gravel with a long drop on the side made him too anxious. Frankly, I was hot and lugging one kid and one backpack, and periodically yelling at another kid to be respectful of other people on the trail, so I was ready to go down. We waited in Curry Village for quite a while until the next group of kids came, then enjoyed the air conditioned shuttle (and the funny, very Northern English accents on some girls who couldn't remember the name of their hotel**) and the exhibits around the Visitors Center.
We went back to camp first and started dinner. Everyone else drifted back a few at a time, and we all enjoyed dinner, (especially Lochlan, who thinks cantaloupe is the best thing ever) then some more volleyball, and as the kids cleaned up, Chris and Tom busted out a guitar and Beatles songbook, so naturally I joined them around the fire. We sang for quite a while before calling the kids to gather around (at 8, dusk), and when we did, the mood was sort of already set by our singing. The kids sang Spongebob's "Campfire Song Song" (lyrics: C-A-M-P-F-I-R-E-S-O-N-G SONG!), then a few songs they knew from Spanish class (with prodding from their maestra, but enthusiastically), then some pop songs. It was one of the best campfire circles I've been a part of in years. Sometimes the kids are reluctant to sing, but this group was really into it. At 9, I went to tuck Zadie in. Lochlan was asleep in my lap, so I got up carefully, asked for a hand down off the logs, took about one step in the direction of the tent, and fell wildly, prodigiously, profoundly, fast, and ass-over-teakettle. I dropped the baby. Actually -- he flew out of my arms.
It was awful. I'm still not sure what happened. I know I tripped over the campfire grill ring, but it all happened so fast, and I scrambled up so fast to get the baby, that I didn't really take stock of where I was. I think what happened is this: my night vision failed me because the dark ring was the same color as the dark ground. I must have caught my foot on one side of the ring, gone flying forward, and caught my thigh on the other side and landed in the fire pit (luckily, the cold one, not the one we'd been cooking in!). Someone (I don't even know who) came rushing over to help me, and asked if I wanted her to pick up the baby. No! No! I've got him! He was crying, but didn't look hurt. I think he sort of left my hands at the very last bit of my trajectory, meaning he only fell a foot or so. But my thigh was burning. I think it might have been Karla helping me, and I told her I just needed to check, just needed to make sure I hadn't been burned (at this point, I wasn't sure I hadn't fallen into the recently-used fire pit). My thigh felt like it was on fire, but a visual check of my jeans showed no evidence of that, so I eventually stopped panicking and limped back to the tent.
Why, you may be wondering, as my husband did, didn't I have a lantern? Well, Zadie had wanted both the lanterns. Plus, when I went to the fire, my hands were full (I had the baby, a jug of water, and a chair). Plus, I have generally good night vision. Plus, the tent would be all lit up, and therefore easy to find! Ah, fuck it, I was wrong. I should have put a flashlight in my pocket. I was wrong, and I screwed up, and I got hurt***. And I almost hurt the baby.
The ride home the next day was uneventful, and we got In N Out, a rare treat (and apparently Manteca has heard of vegetarians), and we were home by 2!
It was lovely weather, the kids were delightful (both mine and my students), and I'm so glad I have been able to be part of this trip off and on for ten years! Yosemite is amazing.
*The menu offers an egg, cheese, and meat biscuit. I ask for it without the meat. "So... just the biscuit then?" Well, uh, no? Also, dear employees of the Oakdale Burger King -- I apologize for trying to get my coffee in my own mug. That was wrong of me, I see that now, and I can't imagine the depths of confusion I caused. My bad.
** "I don't know, it's something like Honolulu. Just tell the shuttle driver 'The Honolulu.'" I whispered to her that it was probably the Ahwanee. I love Northern English accents -- the vowels are so flat and long they sound like they're from Texas or something if you don't catch what they're saying.
*** This bruise is so, so nasty. I have been injured a time or two, and this is the worst bruise I've ever had, including the time my ass hit a rock while body-surfing a class-3 river. It's the size of the heel of my hand to the tip of my middle finger in both directions, it's visibly swollen, and the swollen tissue is so -- forgive me -- distended that it moves on its own and shakes a little when I walk. It is very painful, and it doesn't surprise me at all to think that I thought I was on fire when it happened.
When he had gnawed this down to the rind, I tried to take it away to give him another piece, and he gave me angry Spock eyebrows. He has made it clear that to fail to provide him with more cantaloupe would be criminal.
