Thrice On the Trail

November 11, 2013
Alder Creek Fall, Yosemite National Park
Total distance walked:  12 miles

Today I hiked the Alder Creek Fall trail in Yosemite National Park for the third time. One might assume it’s quite spectacular since I’ve done it thrice. What makes it unique to me is the solitude of the trail from beginning to end, and the abundant wildflowers that bloom in the spring. However, this being November, all I saw were a few withered white flowers.

Starting from the Wawona trailhead at 4,000 feet elevation, near the horse stables, the one-way six-mile trek to the falls is quite strenuous, ascending 2,500 feet up Turner Ridge. The path is lined with oak trees and manzanita.

The plant known as mountain misery, or bear clover, encroached on the trail from both sides, scraping our legs and leaving only a slender path to navigate. There were many sections of that pungently scented shrub to walk through.

The path wound through a charred stretch of woodland, where our feet shuffled through a dense layer of pine needles that cushioned the forest floor.

The burned trees often formed interesting shapes. Looking through an opening in one tree, I glimpsed additional scorched timber.

For the first three miles of trail, we were followed by tiny, pesky flies. They hovered around our heads and buzzed in our ears as we walked. Twice I inhaled one. Interestingly, they parted from us almost immediately at the halfway mark where two trails intersect, both leading to Alder Creek Fall.

The area along Turner Ridge must be bear territory. There was evidence of bears all along that section, at least ten piles of scat both old and fresh.

As I came around a bend, I saw Andrew standing still looking downhill. He said he had been there for six minutes watching three bears—two cubs and their mom. By the time I reached him, the mama bear was gone, and the cubs were shaking the branches of the tree as they climbed down to follow her. I heard them rustling about but didn’t see them.

The trail eventually leveled out onto the flat terrain that formerly served as the railroad bed for the Yosemite Lumber Company. Approaching the waterfall, we tread upon the grounds once crossed by trains.

Railroad ties and other remnants lined the path reminding us of the past.

Thinking of the past, the first time I hiked this trail I was alone and walked only three miles before turning back. On that trip, I found the top portion of a bear’s skull. When I returned six weeks later, it was gone.

The second time on this trail my husband Chris was with me. He dubbed it the goat trail because of the dusty, rocky, narrow, uphill climb during the first four miles. It didn’t help that we were each carrying a 28-pound backpack. We spent the night somewhere in the woods then walked to Alder Creek Fall and back the next day. Along the trail we found more unidentified bones.

On this trip, Andrew and I walked all twelve miles. As we approached the fall, concern grew with each dry tributary we passed—Mosquito Creek and Alder Creek—areas that normally held water. The pond that Chris and I saw, once home to water lilies, was also parched. Despite this, I remained hopeful that Alder Creek Fall would reward our strenuous hike with the sight of flowing water.

Getting closer, we should have begun to hear the crashing sound of water from its fall into Alder Creek. Alder Creek Fall is a rarely visited waterfall that drops 120 feet. We didn’t hear anything except our feet crunching through the leaves on the ground.

Eventually, without a sound, the fall came into view. A noiseless stream of water slipped down the rocks into the hidden creek.

We paused here for a well-deserved break after a three-hour uphill hike and enjoyed our lunch.

Following a brief rest, we made our way downhill. It was a two-hour trek, mixed with spurts of jogging to maintain pace with Andrew, before we finally reached the car. Pausing for a moment to catch my breath, I leaned against a tree, weary from the swift pace.

Exploring a trail across various seasons can be fascinating. However, it seems unlikely that I will embark on this particular hike for a fourth occasion. Each journey offered its own unique beauty and challenges, enriching my connection to nature. I look forward to new adventures discovering different trails and seeing the ever-changing landscapes.