Yosemite: Day 4

At 1 AM I woke up suddenly to the sound of thunder, the great white whale—a rock slide. I opened the door and looked up at the sky, nothing but stars. Then I heard the rocks hit the ground—the same sound as when you throw a large rock against another large rock but a 100 times louder and bone shaking. I figured I should wake everyone up and run for the meadow, but then the thunder stopped. Fearing that Moby Dick had just dived down for a minute and would soon resurface to finish me off, I waited. But I heard nothing but the rumble of the waterfalls.


After several minutes I went back inside my cabin and went back to sleep. I figured if Yosemite wanted to crush me like a grape, I wasn't going to be able to stop it. Plus when they found me, I would have a large flat smile on my face.


I woke up 5 hours later, un-mauled and un-crushed, ready to seize the final day at Yosemite. After breakfast, a facebook post and telling everyone in the group my bear story, Mike confirmed he had heard the rock slide too. My nickname had also changed now from “John Muir” to “Get, Bear, Get.”

We walked with our gear down the road toward Mirror Lake, yet another place Ansel had stood. Mike stopped to tell a story, but said later he was just waiting for the light. Ralph and I found an interesting tree to shoot as we all waited.

As we walked along the river leading to Mirror Lake, I saw a mossy tree trunk in the water I wanted to shoot, but Mike said not yet. After 5 more minutes of walking he turned us loose and I ran back to shoot the tree.

We wandered around Mirror Lake shooting the reflections, as Ansel had, trying to come up with something different. I asked Mike if he had any suggestions, he said, “No.” I guess the lessons were over—he wanted us to find it ourselves.

After what seemed like a short time shooting, Mike said we needed to head back to camp and pack. No one wanted to leave, but Mike knew how to get me moving. He began to hit my tripod with a stick, shaking it and ruining the shot. I pressed the timer again, pretending to walk away, Mike realized what I was doing too late and I got the shot.

I walked back to camp, stopping every now and then to try and take a shot before Mike started hitting my tripod.


We packed, loaded the car and drove to Yosemite Lodge for our farewell lunch. We ate and talked of hikes, John Muir, bears and of course Ansel. When it was time to say goodbye, everyone shook hands except for the one woman in the group, Eileen, who gave everyone a hug. Mike went to shake my hand, but I pulled him in for a bro hug. He seemed a little surprised but went with it.

After buying a few souvenirs and the DVD of post cards Mike had referred to the whole trip, we headed to the car, taking in the great view of Yosemite Falls that the lodge affords. Sorry for the cell phone picture, the gear was stored in the car.

Ralph said we should shoot our way out of Yosemite, which sounded about right to me. We stopped at El Capitan to shoot a ribbon of a waterfall and some rock climbers. Yosemite is rock climbing heaven. I felt that Scott and Ralph wanted to stay as much as I did, but we had a 4 hour drive to San Francisco and a plane to catch. 

Right before we entered the tunnel that had revealed the Valley 3 days earlier, we stopped for one last shot. The light was terrible but it didn't matter, it was like the last picture of a loved one who you had no idea when you'd see again.


As we drove out of the park, I once again got misty behind my polarized wrap around shades. I knew soon I would have cell signal again and tried to think of a FB post to sum up how I was feeling.


I wanted to thank Leslie and Sara for encouraging me to go and I wanted to thank all my friends who were with me in spirit. I wanted to thank Yosemite for not killing me as I flew too close to the sun, I wanted to thank Ralph and Scott for coming with me, I wanted to thank Mike and I wanted to thank the group of photographers who shared this trip of a lifetime. I guess I was feeling pretty thankful.

But then I remembered Mike's first lesson. The way to carve an elephant from a bar of soap is to remove everything that isn't the elephant. Then I had it: 


“Todd Jackson is leaving Yosemite. Thanks John and Ansel for re-inspiring this 10 year old boy.”