The other side of the valley leads to High Country Again.
Crossing the valley floor we rise on the Pohono Trail through the forest to Glacier Point. The view is so stunning tourists are often found in the same pose – utterly astounded, mouth open, frozen in time…
High Country Again
Winter Ride to Glacier Point and Beyond
High Country Again
The high country above Yosemite Valley carries a crisp, winter bite, smelling of cold granite, pine resin, and the quiet promise of incoming snow. Sitting deep in a dark, oiled Wade saddle packed with a canvas bedroll, woolen slicker, and leather saddlebags, a rider feels the rhythmic, steady gait of a strong-boned golden palomino. Her thick winter coat catches a fine dusting of flakes, and her long, almost white mane whips lightly across her neck as a steady breeze pushes through the high red firs. Clad in heavy tapaderos, leather chaps, wool vest, silk wildrag, and a wide-brimmed felt hat, a seasoned rider moves with complete ease across this high, unforgiving terrain.
If you were to bring your own trail-seasoned horse to replicate this journey from the valley floor up to Glacier Point and onward into the High Sierras, the historic trails offer a magnificent, continuous stock-approved route. Ascending from the valley floor, stock riders utilize the Pohono Trail corridor coming up from the Wawona and Tunnel View staging areas to reach the south rim network. From there, the trail winds through the high red fir forests directly out onto the open granite perch of Glacier Point. Continuing eastward, you connect directly to the Panorama Trail. This stock-friendly route traverses the rim high above the Merced River gorge, passing directly above Illilouette Fall, rounding Panorama Cliff, and leading straight into Little Yosemite Valley, the John Muir Trail corridor, and the vast wilderness beyond.
High Country Again
Standing at the granite precipice of Glacier Point, the view opens up into a sweeping, breathtaking panorama that causes a genuine ache in your neck as you strain to take in the vertical immensity of creation. Directly across the gulf stands the colossal, sheer-cut face of Half Dome, its duster of fresh snow highlighting the dark, ancient grain of its stone. Down below, thousands of feet into the canyon floor, the Merced River winds like a dark ribbon through snow-powdered oaks and pines.
Looking northeast toward the upper canyon, the majestic back side of Half Dome looms above the misty gorges where Nevada Fall and Vernal Fall cascade over massive granite steps. From this high perch, you can peer directly down into the canyon toward the Mist Trail, where the roaring spray of the falling waters creates swirling, frozen plumes that catch the winter light. Farther along the rim, the profile of Liberty Cap and the towering walls of Mount Broderick stand as silent sentinels guarding the eastern gateway to the High Sierras.
Looking out across that vast, snow-dusted expanse of rock and sky, a deep, quiet truth settles in your chest. Up here, wrapped in wool and leather with only the sound of falling snow and the steady clink-clink of iron shoes against granite, the mind stretches past everyday burdens, touched by the intoxicating promise of living forever in raw, untamed freedom. Resting a hand on the saddle horn, you gently pat your golden mount’s neck, trace the line of the eastern trail past Nevada Fall, and give the high wilderness a quiet nod. That far country, waiting under the mountain wind, is tomorrow’s ride.
High Country Again
High Country Again
I am now so enticed by my own story I want it to continue even now. I wonder if I fall back on Yosemite and the Sierras so often out of familiarity or some subliminal message from mother calling me home. Next life?
Popi sends…
Other Random Thoughts: High Country
Can you see it?