Brett and I used to love hiking together. Then his knees quit working and my feet started screaming so we pretty much quit. Brett now has two bionic knees and I have wonderful inserts in my shoes. In the past year, we've started going on short hikes together. While we were in Yosemite, we decided to tackle the mist trail, which leads to Vernal Falls. Our plan was to go as far as the footbridge, which gives you a view of the falls in the distance. The climb is pretty steep but not too long to get to that point. We stopped on the bridge, admired the view, caught our breath and waited for our heart rate to return to normal... and then we kept going.
At the junction of the mist trail and the John Muir Trail we veered right and headed towards Nevada falls. We put our heads down and made our way up the switchbacks. One, two, three... a look at each other, a smile ... four, five, six ... glancing up, the sheer face of the cliff rising above the last switch back ... seven, eight ... legs like rubber, we hit the top and the trail started to level off. Then we hit ice.
We turned around. I tried to walk on it a bit, but it was slick and slippery and I almost fell. I sat on my butt and slid back down the trail to Brett. And we headed down.
At the trail junction, we turned back onto the mist trail and continued up towards Vernal Falls.
We got fairly close, but didn't climb the stairs carved into the granite.
I took a picture and we headed back down.
We hiked almost six miles. SIX MILES! And it was a steep six miles. Brett's knees were a bit sore and our feet were screaming by the time we got back to the car, but we were thrilled with ourselves.
This morning we left right after breakfast. A storm was coming in and we didn't want to be caught in the snow. We barely made it out. The snow was falling thick and fast, the road obscured and cars on the shoulders -- either giving up or sliding there. We managed to get through (gotta love a Subaru).
We stopped at a couple wineries on the way home and were gifted with a gorgeous sunset when we left Cooper Vineyards.
Back home, Chris had tucked the horses in the barn. Brett went to the neighbors to fetch Kersey while I got the wood stove going. It was 48F in the house; in the 30s with slushy ice on the ground outside.