Day 68 - Yosemite National Park, California

Things come from nowhere. As does this spontaneous little trip with Rachel, escaping San Francisco for two days, where I’ve been holding up for the past weeks for work. The bicycle was resting in the place I’m staying in Bernal Heights. We only carried a small back pack with food, sleeping bag and a mattress. Not even a tent - it was warm enough to sleep under the stars. One long walk up to the top of Yosemite Point, along steep cliffs and among ponderosa pines which smell like vanilla. We rested at cold river streams where we could wash off the dust and give our ankles time to breath. Our camp was shared with a black widow living in a dead tree, but we were both minding our own business. He was very hospitable, I hope we were not noisy or anything.

Yosemite draws a lot of tourists in summer but the area is so wide spread that you will always find places to be on your own. I missed hiking. Leaving the roads, even the trails, brings you to more special places and you need to be on foot for that. I don’t remember much of the ride. Basically my Spotify playlist drove us home, while I gazed out of the windows at the tall trees leaving Yosemite Valley, 350 kms back towards San Francisco, through dry river gorges, flat farm land and connecting towns. What a memorable ride could this have been on the bike. I would need 5 days for it. But instead of this it was just a few hours sitting in the car, sharing stories and listening to favourite music. I missed that too. And I already know I will miss it even more later.