California's autumn countryside.

A portion of the Silicon Valley could be seen from the top of the hills.

It was too cold in November and days were too short for any camping, but the skiing season had not begun yet, and we had been dawdling around. Having pondered various ideas where to go for a trip, we had eventually decided to stay as close as possible and hike Quicksilver, our nearest hill. And since we are rather soft and haven't hiked much lately, we left one car at the reservoir and took the other one up into a pass, thus making our trail lead mostly downhill.

A beautiful autumn day was surprisingly icy, and we were packing dawn jackets and vests, but they were comfortable on a walk like this. More precisely, we adults were comfortable — the kids kept whining and complaining until it was annoying. They only let go when we had spotted the reservoir again — seeing their destination had poured new strength into them, and they proceeded in needling each other on the way down. This made us think that their alleged tiredness wasn't as serious as they wanted us to believe. The only excuse we took seriously was Lisa's whimpering about her "boots aching" — and it had only been several weeks since she had hiked in them at Kirkwood with no problem.

When the following weekend failed again in delivering a November storm (which we await impatiently; after all we would like to get some snow at Kirkwood by Thanksgiving), a road-tripping withdrawal syndrome had befallen us instead, so Sid and I decided to spend the weekend in Yosemite. We don't like to go there on account of horrible overcrowding, but once every few years we fall for its lure. Especially since the children had not seen Glacier Point yet.

Our destination - reservoir dam.

Bridalveil Fall.

We reserved a hotel room in Mariposa (alas, everything's awfully expensive in these tourist-infested places) and set out on a Saturday morning. Having a quick lunch in Mariposa, we continued into the park. Bridalveil Fall surprised us in having any water at all — Central Valley on our way up seemed dried up like tinder. So our first stop was like by a guide-book (some people consider these about two hundred yards of a paved walkway a "hike" and bring professional Everest-conquering equipment) — and indeed, it was saturated by tourists.

Now that we committed ourselves to the popular sightseeing pattern, we also stopped at a parking lot near Wawona tunnel, to get the coveted snapshot of the whole Yosemite Valley (with and without the whole family, with and without the UFO, and so on). There was a huge sign at the Glacier Point Road turn-off, warning drivers about icy condition, which forced us to crawl amidst a queue of jittery, Sunday drivers. The air temperature dropped all the way to sixty (Fahrenheit) in spots, and yes, one could notice some remnants of snow in a few deeper ditches, but the road remained nice and dry. Well, we had to endure it, and our patience was rewarded in the form of the last parking spot at the Taft Point trailhead.

It was only about a mile to the cliff edge from the road, but you walk this one mile at 7,700 feet altitude. And since we got up in the morning at our approximate two hundred and eighty feet, we were huffing and puffing. The kids were probably doing a little better than we, adults, and Lisa marched in her new boots, thus eliminating a cause for complaints.

Actual Taft Point was as crowded as any downtown; fortunately for us, a noisy group of teenagers was just leaving, and we could shiver unaccompanied at the rail above a half-mile drop-off for a moment. Tom had perhaps for the first time clearly noticed that he's afraid of heights. We tried to explain that in this case it seemed to us quite appropriate, and helpful to the health and sanity of his parents. Certainly better than with Lisa, who lacks respect to any cliffs and whom we had to keep alerting not to run and jump near the edge.

El Capitan and Half Dome from Wawona tunnel.

Taft Point & El Cap.

On our way back we had to urge the kids forward a little bit — days are really short and we still wanted to see sunset from Glacier Point. We managed to park the car and reach the view point in time, with Half Dome properly illuminated. Tourists and photographers from all parts of the world come to Glacier Point to see this spectacle; and this time again we were able to fully experience the popularity of the location. There were the vocal, local dudes; Asians who pay no heed to your taking pictures and move to consume their snacks right in front of your lens; we even overheard our own mother-tongue — yet in form so seedy that only prepositions could be published. Naturally, the whole circus would accompany us in their respective cars on our way back into the Valley, but that's just another hassle you have to put up with in Yosemite.

We found a Chinese restaurant in Mariposa and subsequently fell back into our hotel. To our chagrin, some pre-pubescent teams were being accommodated there as well; the hotel lacked soundproofing and our night was colorful. Another Yosemite hassle. Fortunately, breakfast worked out great, i.e. we had succeeded in arriving there ahead of all the aforementioned teams, thus Tom was able to seize his waffle after only a three-minute wait, instead of a half-hour queue.

By nine o'clock we were on the road again, but it is awfully far everywhere you go in Yosemite. We had entered the park and proceeded on Tioga Road until I started to worry that we got lost. The fact that the helpful rangers had removed all signs and markings with names of parking spots, campgrounds and trails, did not help either. This stretch of the road features a boring, unchanging forest, so you cannot catch your eye on any landmarks. At least the trailheads were mostly empty, and the otherwise busy parking lot at Porcupine Creek sported altogether four cars, which was very pleasant contrast to the Saturday crowds.

Carol and kids with El Cap.

Half Dome.

The start of the trail was a bit less pleasant — we ran on a forest road down a sun-filled slope in only a moment — suddenly reaching snow on the banks of a half-frozen creek. The trail consisted of re-frozen, trodden snow mush, and walking it was a bit risky, especially in sections featuring steep up or down-hill. Naturally the kids rejoiced, trying to slide on the ice, but we were somewhat more apprehensive.

I was personally quite disenchanted — this hike was my idea, for I had been to North Dome with other girls two years ago, I had liked it a lot and now I wanted to take our family to this awesome view-point — yet now it looked like we would have to abandon our attempt for general impassibility of the terrain, having driven here through the park for two hours. Fortunately as soon as we emerged from the northern side to the first hill, sun did its job and we found ourselves in a beautiful autumn grove, where snow was cowardly hiding under the fluffiest trees. And since noon had come, we ate our lunch in one of the sunny spots.

Further down we reached our first view point, where our offspring could scale some boulders and release some more energy — followed up by an uphill hike, again under snow and ice — and then we had arrived at our main stop, Indian Rock. This outcropping proudly features the only natural arch in Yosemite, and offers a view to Half Dome. Our whole family liked it so much that I did not have to defend my desire to endeavor a bit farther, toward North Dome. We did not take it all the way to its tip, ending a stone's throw above it (yes, North Dome is below the trail), on Indian Ridge, which gives you the feeling you are observing the theater of Half Dome from the first row.

A view point on our way to Indian Rock.

Lisa & Hippo on Indian Rock.

Before we finished supplementing our crew spirits with M&M's and drinks, and exhausted all picture-taking opportunities, the Big Sandy Ledge started showing up on the face of Half Dome. Whenever the sun reaches the North Face, it's highest time to think of returning. Having tested it on myself twice already that this warning must be seriously heeded, we started back at once. We made it just in time to the car, there wasn't space to drive to Olmstead Point as we would have reached it after sunset. And besides, we had seen Half Dome during this weekend from two sides already.

It was a very nice trip, the kids having enjoyed the Sunday hike without complaints. Comparing it to the tantrums thrown on the previous weekend for mere four and half miles, it's good news. Apparently they need practicing (although, in Lisa's case, fitting boots helped, too). And it did not hurt adapting to seven thousand feet during a rather mild walk on Saturday.

Thus we met our athletic goals and could fully focus on culture again. Lisa's theater play arrived to a finale, i.e. the phase of dress rehearsals and several performances. I think that at the beginning the whole class had disappointed Lisa a little, and only distribution of costumes started giving the whole affair a better shape. I had come to the dress rehearsal with my camera — the theater company had secured a professional (read: over-priced) photographer for taking costume pictures, and a professional videotaping (again — I would possibly shell out thirty-five dollars for a DVD, if Lisa were cast in a major role, instead of three cameos). Thus the last rehearsal was the only free opportunity to take a picture of a fully costumed, participating child.

Behind the arch.

Half Dome peeking through the arch.

The rehearsal was fascinating — I just cannot comprehend what magic could the two lady directors use to harness some forty children into a functional performance. The little actors mostly knew who should show up and when, and what to say; there was a surprising quiet behind the scene, and everything seemed quite professional (at least in comparison to various school pageants).

The number of performances eventually delivered shocked me. There was one full-length on Thursday, two abridged ones (featuring only musical songs) during regular school hours on Friday, followed by two full features back-to-back on Friday night. I was also taken aback by the fact that a paid ticket was required, but if you consider that kids received costumes, there were props, stage, lighting and sound of the theater hall (a.k.a. school cafeteria), so I guess I had no reason to be surprised. In the end we split our attendance; Tom and I went on Thursday, and Hippo attended the late Friday show, taking Lisa back home afterwards.

I admit right away that the whole piece had not registered with me. A musical play, Hillville, Mother Goose Country, is based on American/English nursery rhymes and songs. There's no connection to the stuff I imbibed as a Czech child growing up in a completely different culture. I could start reciting fragments of kiddie rhymes of my childhood and unless you share my heritage, it would probably leave you utterly clueless. Thus we had to take all performances at their face value.

Lisa played one of the smart-mouthed, disobedient sheep belonging to a person named Bo Peep, known by her inability of keeping the flock together. Her next cameo was a snake inside a nightmare of Miss Muffett — who's supposed to be afraid of spiders, but in this version she freaks out over just about everything. For some, to me somewhat disconnected, reason the play features a group of soldiers in one moment, who wash their feet in basins, and that was Lisa's third role. The rest of the play includes three consecutive fires, apparently so that the chorus line Fire, Fire, Fire can be properly recycled. If you add chorus scenes to Lisa's cameos, she had enjoyed a considerable fraction of the whole show on the stage. I find it great; actually even the smallest children with some extremely simple roles got to participate in the plot regularly, which is probably the reason for the incredible order and quiet behind the scenes.

Lisa played a smart-mouthed sheep.

Closing scene of the musical.

The actors were taking their roles very seriously and actually had memorized most of the text. Sometimes they would lose track or immersion, ending in mumbled whispers. Mumbling was perhaps the hardest problem for me — not only was the musical about things I of which I have no idea, but this way I could often not parse the language a given person was using, and all sense was lost for me. The fact that the performance was amplified, helped a little, but it was not enough for a hoarse-voiced hero. During the show which I had attended, one of the little mice on the stage got so distracted that she began shoving other mice, spinning and jumping, until she missed a step on the edge of stairs and crashed more or less head-first into the auditorium. Since she ended up unhurt, it was rather humorous.

Lisa managed to execute her roles perfectly — in some sections she carried the entire chorus song (for she knew all the words, not because she would sing such a good tune — poor thing, she probably inherited her mother's musical ear), and I thought that her acted gestures looked in her case relatively natural and not like a marionette being jerked by the lines. Her own most impressive experience was having a MAKE-UP applied. The director had recommended to make the actor's faces up a bit before the show, so that the harsh lighting wouldn't turn their faces into fuzzy dumplings. This was OK, but I myself had used make-up about three times within the last thirteen years (including the occasion of my own wedding). I consider it a personal achievement that I had actually found a few remnants of powder and eye shadows. Tom had ruined it a bit by responding negatively to Lisa's excited question whether he noticed anything different (after having admired herself sufficiently in the mirror). Thus I had to console my daughter that it is quite normal that men don't notice these things, and it signifies instead that her make-up is just RIGHT, since it's not obvious she had applied it.

The theater group is planning to rehearse another school play in the spring; Lisa's quite sure she wants to act again, and even Tom is considering. Yay, another successful after-school activity! The only thing I don't know is how Santa Claus is going to deal with Lisa's Christmas list. Make-up is on the top line...