May Lake: Yosemite Backpacking
Every time we ventured into Yosemite, we stuck to the dog friendly trails within Yosemite Valley for Boo. Since last year, we have been itching to go deeper into the landscape. To hike for days, to camp, to soak up its dramatic terrain.
As I lay partially asleep one Saturday night, Jamie decided to check for any last minute Wilderness Permits into the park. It is, after all, peak time to go, and some people get these Permits through a lottery six months in advance. Luckily for us, they release the remaining permits 7 days before, and as Jamie searched their system and I began to snore, she secured a two day permit to backpack in the Yosemite High Sierra.
High Sierra Lakes are 9,000 + elevation, cool and wet, in comparison to the hot summer in the Valley. It was a last minute trip, but we have never hiked in the High Sierra, and it turned out to be exactly what we wanted: a stone slab with a view. May Lake was the trail we registered for, and Mount Hoffman was the steep hike from the lake to see Yosemite in 360 glory.
The camping grounds were within a mile of the trailhead, which made life very easy at that elevation. We hiked to the lake and set up camp, packed up our lunch and went up Mount Hoffman. Completely out of breath, we found oxygen in the view. Half Dome rose above the valleys like a church spire does a village - with the same religious emotions associated. Our treat at the end of our hike was a dip in May Lake. The water was cold, but you felt baptized by becoming one with the water, the moss, and the dancing dragonflies above your head.
Chip monks scrambled in the trees and along the trails, and at night the big dipper felt within arms reach. Mount Hoffman was reflected in the still lake waters, and Jamie spent an hour taking in the stars from the hammock.
Our second day hiking was along the lake and base of Mount Hoffman. Jamie jumped in the lake once more, and we ended the day by packing up our tent. By this time we had run out of water and means of making water drinkable. We hiked back to our car excited to find an old western saloon outside of Yosemite to grab food that wasn’t labeled with “just add water.” In Groveland we ordered deep fried asparagus and beef stew, and I drank Sprite as if it had come from the Fountain of Youth.
It was our first off the cuff, hastily planned Yosemite backpacking trip, and we are now hooked. Who knows what weekends will bring when they are just around the bend.
