On Wednesday night before the trip I went gear shopping. I was on a mission
to find non-cotton shirts and pants, a waterproof outer "shell", and some long
underware. This list proved a little difficult as most of the six stores I
visited had already "put away" their "winter clothes". I found a sporting
goods store with all their ski apparell on clearance sale. I was in luck!
Well, sort of, since what was left had been picked over rather considerably.
I left the store with about half my list checked off.
14 March
Thursday afternoon Boss Bill and I went to a mountaineering store so I could buy
the rest of what I needed (beyound what he was loaning me), and to rent
a backpack and ski equipment. Next we went to Boss Bill's house to pack our gear
and eat pizza, and then we headed out toward Yosemite in the Sierra Nevada
mountain range. After several hours of driving, we stopped at a hotel about
an hour from Yosemite and spent the nght there, so we could get a very early
start the next morning.
15 March
We arrived at the trail head and Boss Bill gave
me a quick lesson about skis. This is how you put on skis. This how you stand up.
This is how you fall down. This is how you get back up. This is how you go. "Okay,
but how do I turn?" Oh, that's an advanced lesson. For now, just fall down, point
the skis in the correct direction, and stand back up. "Oh." (Need I point out that
memories of Ray Conrad's Cotton Pickin' Ski Lift Tower Blues kept running through
my head?) So I donned my 40+ pound pack, and slid along the trail trying to follow
Boss Bill, and trying not to fall down too often. Boss Bill counted my falls.
Twenty-two in all, before we reached our campsite at Dewey Point, five miles out.
Once there, we proceeded to dig a snow cave. It took hours. Eventually it
was done, and had enough room for both
our sleeping bags and gear, but not enough head room to sit up.

[Title: "Entryway, Snow Cave I" ImageID: 544387_18 ]
But by the time it was completed, it had gotten quite dark, and I
was exhausted, dehydrated, and not feeling very good at all. (Note to self--
if this is altitude sickness, then I need to get into better shape.
And drink more water. And get more exercise. Oh, and stay warm when sleeping
on snow.) Plus my feet had gotten really cold. So I just bundled up in my
sleeping bag with a couple of bottles Boss Bill filled with hot water,
and tried to get warm. Time passed. Eventually I fell asleep.
16 March
The next morning we had a light breakfast, followed by a morning outing.

[Title: "Winter Sunrise in Yosemite" ImageID: 544387_19 ]
Then I crawled back into my sleeping bag to get warm again, took a nice nap,
and worked on my travel journal.
During this time Boss Bill decided to dig a better snow cave, and he did a fine
job of it. The new one had a submerged entry way, such that it dropped down
below the floor of the cave. And inside there was plenty of head room so we
could sit up in it while sitting in our sleeping bags. And he carved little
scallops in the walls for candles, creating "recessed lighting", as well as
carved out a spot for the stove, complete with its own little chimney. I
was quite impressed. We moved all our gear over to it, and then it was time
for dinner.

[Title: "Entryway, Snow Cave II" ImageID: 544387_20 ]
17 March
The next morning we had another light breakfast, took our time
waking up, and then packed up, and skied back to the truck. This time I
fell only once, but it was a "good" fall. By "good" I guess I mean "bad".
I was coming down a hill, doing a fine job balancing on the skis with the
pack on my back, when I hit the bottom and leaned too far forward. I fell
forward, head first into the snow. And about a half second after my hands
hit the snow, my pack, following rather closely behind me, since it was
attached to my back, arrived, slid up over my head, and ground my face into
the snow. Ouch! Then it took a little bit to get the pack off my head. Next
I had to wipe all the snow from my mouth, face, eyes, and glasses. Oh well,
at least I had only ONE of those falls. When we got back to the truck, we
had to dig it out from under 18 inches of new snow. So, I'm sure you're
wondering what I think of snow camping. Honestly, I think I don't like sleeping
in the snow. And I don't like getting very, very cold. But, given a little
time, and armed with my recent experience, I'd probably go again. But I think
I'd like to learn to ski first.
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