Preface: This is a reminder to myself that this blog is for me to write about what I’ve been doing and feeling, even if my writing style isn’t the best. I think one of the barriers that keeps me from posting here is feeling like I’m not expressing myself the right way, or that people coming across this blog will find it boring. But, hey, not writing anything is worse than putting out “rough drafts,” so just do it! Not everyone is a naturally great story-teller; some people need practice more than others. You should hear me try to retell a joke or a funny story to my friends…
Now that that’s out of the way, I can finish writing about my Yosemite trip! In a previous post, I wrote that I tend to jump in water when the chance presents itself, which is true, but another true thing about me is that I’m sometimes afraid of water. I remember snorkeling in Hawaii on a family vacation at age 13, only to freak out and run/swim back to shore when the water got deeper than 5 feet and I started seeing these giant rocks everywhere. My greatest fear is basically being stranded in the ocean with all that depth and darkness below me.
In Yosemite, this little phobia kicked in when my boyfriend and I were attempting to float down the Merced river in inflatable rafts. We lasted for about a quarter of a mile. Number one: I could not steer for the life of me and ended up tying my raft to his. Number two: it was too shallow (the recommended raft launch point was a more downstream) so our butts kept scraping against the riverbed rocks. Also, there were logs in the water that I would’ve had trouble dodging if we had actually gone far enough to be able to hit them. After getting stuck on a rock for the 3rd or 4th time, we got out and walked to shore, dragging our rafts along. Unfortunately, all we brought were flip flops, so we hobbled barefoot across the uneven, rocky riverbed nearly twisting our ankles with every step. When we got to land, I wanted to kiss the ground and vow never to leave again – but instead, we fought our way through some trees and scurried through someone’s campsite to get back to the main road.
I didn’t feel much like going back in the river after that. I’m sure I’ll try rafting again in a future visit, but I was perfectly content to keep my feet planted on the ground for the rest of the day.
Half Dome story to come!