A splash of tomato soup escapes from my cup as I stab at a submerged cracker. It hits the rug on the floor of our van. I look at it for a bit and then decide not to clean it up. It really makes no difference to just leave it there, a dark red stain barely to be seen on a multi-colored throw rug that is already caked in the week’s worth of dirt and grime on this climbing trip in Yosemite. A stain barely to be seen amongst the mess of shirts, pants, coats, mittens and hats strung up in every possible place suitable for hanging stuff, and even places not suitable for hanging stuff, like where the kids’ stinky socks are currently draped across the front dash. A winter storm settled in over the Valley yesterday and dumped a good 4 or more inches of snow overnight. On our November trips, we always come prepared with our plastic tote box of winter gear (boots, snow pants, etc.), and end up never needing to use it. This trip though we left the tote at home cause, well, it’s April. Late April! Tote or no tote though, the kids ran out into the white stuff immediately upon waking. Within seconds they had hiked up their pajama bottoms to their knees, slipped into their sandals, threw on their hoodies and grabbed their gloves. Out they went to play. That lasted about 10 minutes. Then they came in to dress more seriously (or, is it smartly?) for snow play. This time putting on long underwear, jeans, sweaters, socks, sneakers, gloves and hats. Silas wore his puffy. Ivan did not. They stayed out for about 3 hours, indulging in all the classic snow play activities such as snowman making, fort making, snowball fighting, wrestling and rolling like dogs, and finally joining a morning walk with Paul and I. The entire landscape around us was covered in the heavy thick white stuff, from the Valley floor, to the little ledges and trees on the shear rock faces, on up to the high country occasionally peaking out from swift moving clouds. The river and waterfalls were roaring, and everywhere we looked a new waterfall never seen before presented itself, thin trickling ribbons to full on gushers. With every step we risked getting dumped on by a pine branch losing it’s snow load in the steadily warming temps – the kids of course trying to instigate the trees into dumping their loads prematurely, by throwing snowballs at the teetering clumps, or jumping up to wack a branch. They laugh hysterically when they get dumped on. And then up the anti by slamming their feet down onto slush piles so that it sprays themselves and anyone within a 10 foot radius around them. They’re soaked to the skin already, so what difference does it make to get wetter? It makes absolutely no difference. Just like this splash of tomato soup now on the rug in the van that I have decided not to clean up.
posted by ARR
This entry (Permalink) was posted on Friday, April 22nd, 2022 at 7:47 pm and is filed under Bouldering, Yosemite-California. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response , or trackback from your own site.