We arrived in Yosemite via SR120 around 9a. We stopped at the Oak Flat station
there at the park entrance and picked up our Wilderness permits and a bear-proof
canister, now required for most overnight trips in Yosemite. Driving up to
Tuolumne Meadows, we enjoyed a late breakfast/early lunch as our
last meal
before hitting the trail. A bathroom break and water fill-up later, we were
at the
Cathedral Lakes TH and ready to go at 11a. It took a little more than
two hours for us to make the 3.5 mile journey to Cathedral Lakes with about a
thousand feet of climbing. The trail rises steeply at first, has gentle ups
and downs in the second section, followed by another steep section to the pass,
then a last downhill to the larger of the two lakes.
Along the way we had many
breaks, though none of them too long at my insistence, and of course there was
a good deal of complaints and questions about how far and how long we still
had to go. Sore legs, sore shoulders, blisters starting, and various other
small ailments combined to make them believe they were running some sort of
torture gauntlet. But they actually did better than I expected and made it all
in one piece.
The weather was deteriorating almost from the beginning. What started out as
mostly blue skies with some puffy clouds began to develop into darkening skies
as thunderstorms started to form. Just over the pass as we were hiking down to
the lake, thunder was heard in the distance and soon grew closer. Lightning lit
up nearby Tressider Peak to the oohs and aahs of the human observers. Just
before we reached an open meadow a lightning/thunder strike crashed overhead
and woke us from our complacency. We instinctively ducked our heads as we
heard the buzzing of the lightning around our ears. I looked back at the other
two and saw that they weren't overly frightened, but were looking to me for a
clue as to whether they should be. "Ok, maybe we won't walk through the meadow,
but rather follow
along the trees at the edge here." I explained that the trees
would act as lightning rods, better than three people standing alone in an open
meadow. Up ahead, we watched two figures run out of their tent and head for the
woods. "See? Those guys thought they had a pretty sweet campsite on that rock
slab overlooking the lake until they realized there're no trees around to
protect them from a thunderstorm."
The thunder and lightning abated, but the clouds covered the sky completely now
and it started to rain a bit. We hurriedly found a good campsite on the north
side of the lake and while the two boys huddled under some trees to keep out
of the rain as much as possible, I quickly set up their tent. They were eager
to get inside and warm up,
doing so as soon as I had the pads and sleeping bags
inside as well. In the meantime the rain had nearly stopped which meant I
didn't have to hide in a tent as well. I set up the
gas stove and made some
ramen for a late lunch to warm my charges. They enjoyed sipping their soup and
eating their noodles from the open flap in the tent. They chatted, did some
reading, and generally drove themselves to boredom after about an hour, while
I wandered about 
the lake, taking in
the sights and trying to see
if the weather was going to improve or get worse.
Emerging from their tent, they decided to try
swimming in the lake, even though
I suggested it would be much to cold to enjoy. How do
kids go from I'm-cold-let's-get-in-the-tent to alpine swimming in about an hour
anyway? But there they were, changed into swim suits, heading for the lake. I
followed them with the camera to capture the moment, curious to see if they'd
actually swim. They didn't. James at least got wet up to his waist, but Ryan
wasn't able to get past his knees. They wandered around various locals
thinking (wishing, rather) that it might be warmer in other places, to no avail.
So they gave up on that enterprise. Looking around for something else to do,
and being boys, 10yr-old ones at that, they hit upon knives. Not the Crocodile
Dundee type Bowie knifes that could kill tiger sharks, but your run of the mill
Swiss Army knives that present little danger to anyone aside from the user. I
gave them a short lesson that consisted almost entirely of showing them not to
carve towards their fingers and other body parts, then sat aside reading and
half watching from one eye as they 
went to work on their
whittling projects.
Again, being boys, their project consisted of whittling spears with the intent of hunting birds when their weapons were sufficiently developed. A mother at this point might ask that they carve a sailboat or maybe just take the knives away, but I was thinking differently. Could they actually whittle a stick to a point? It's not as easy as it sounds, particularly if you pick a stick with too large a circumference. As I suspected, they hadn't the patience to whittle down to any more than a blunt end, but they could skin the outside of the stick down to the fresh white wood and make it look somewhat spear-like. Upon honing their weapons, they went off in search of prey. Here again Mom would probably interfere, but I figured the odds of them hitting anything with a small stick was close to zero, and if they somehow managed to injure or maim one of God's creatures they would probably feel terrible about it. A good lesson or parental misguidance? I'll leave that to the reader to decide. Of course it could all backfire on me in an orgy of blood-lust that I would then be compelled to quash, but fortunately it didn't come to that. They couldn't throw their 8-inch spears straight, and more often they would hit the side of a tree or get tangled in the brush. The birds were quite safe. So were the squirrels and lizards. After maybe 30 minutes of that, they came back tired and bored.
Next they tried fishing, but alas there were no fish. None that we could catch
anyway. We did see one or two jump to through the surface off in the distance,
but despite a great amount of bugs flying around the surface of the lake, there
appeared to be no fish interested in dinner. 
James
was fairly new at fishing
(despite his claim otherwise) and I spent much of the fishing time with him in
untangling lines. It wasn't all his fault because the pole he was using was a
bit finnicky and about half the mis-casts were likely to end in a tangled reel.
It seems probable that he won't be bugging his own dad to take him fishing any
time too soon. By 7p we had run through the repertoire of boyhood adventures
and they were hungry again. We had dinner followed by hot chocolate, but
unfortunately there are no open fires allowed in this area so we had to go
without a campfire. It wasn't quite 8p before the boys were back in the tent,
this time for the night.
They had planned to talk and then read by headlamps as it got dark, and I left
them to themselves and went off to bed in
my bivy sack. They chatted for a
short while, then it got quiet, then ten minutes later Ryan was unzipping the
tent, coming over (quietly sobbing) and said we needed to talk. It was a bit
confusing, but what I gathered had happened was that James had initially gotten
homesick and began to sob. Ryan, who has never gotten homesick as far as I
know, was confused by this, got upset that his friend was upset, and came over
to ask for some help. I got up and went over to talk to James. He was perfectly
rational, admitted to his homesickness, and his sobs were little more than a
whimper by now. He really missed his mom and dad, that was the crux.
And the trip was not
turning out like he had expected. That was probably true for the both of them,
and I'm the first to admit that an overcast sky is far gloomier and depressing
than sunny blue skies. But that couldn't be helped. I explained that we could
change our plans and didn't have to stay at the lake for the two nights as we
planned, but we should wait and see how things look in the morning. James agreed
there was nothing we could do about it now and we'd all just have to sleep on
it since it was impossible to consider hiking out at this late a time. Ryan got
back into the tent, I went back to my bivy, and not fifteen minutes later they
were both sound asleep.
Morning came and we got up at 7a when the light first began to filter down
through the trees. Everyone had slept quite soundly.
It had rained a bit a few hours earlier, so I didn't expect
blue skies when we got up. And so it was. The boys voted to hike out and find
a motel. The motel idea didn't really appeal to me, but I spent the time hiking
out to come up with a suitable alternative. We had breakfast, played around a
bit, packed up, and 
headed out around 9a.
The boys did much better on the 
hike out.
James thought the pack felt lighter and wondered if maybe they weren't getting
used to them. I think it was due to the fact that we were mostly going downhill
today as opposed to the previous one. There were beautiful
lupines along the
trail to admire, the weather was improving, and it was generally a very
pleasant hike out. A large
packtrain of some 12 mules came through, much to the
amazement of Ryan and James. We 
got back just before 11a,
by which time I had the alternatives ready for the boys.
The motel idea was out. The prime motivation for that was the TV likely to be found there, and I didn't really want to have that entertaining them and driving me crazy at the same time. I told them we could either head back home, no hard feelings at all, or we could head down to Yosemite Valley and get a tent cabin for a night or two. We discussed the available ammenties (pool, shower, pizza, cozy beds) and the requirements (they'd have to do some more hiking, sans pack). They chose to head for the Valley, and off we went.
We had a fine time in Yosemite Valley. I was a bit surprised that it cost $94
for a tent cabin (I think they're a good deal cheaper by advanced reservations),
but the fun we had was worth it. We had pizza in
Curry Village, a long 
swim in the pool
(much warmer than the river), then had an afternoon hike to
Sierra Point. This was a bit of challenge as the trail to Sierra Point has been
abandoned for more than 30 years. It required some minor bushwhacking and
boulder hopping until we actually found the old trail, then made our way up the
ancient steps comprising much of the route. I had told them it would be a jungle
adventure in the vein of Indiana Jones, and in this they were not disappointed.
At one place
a rope has been placed by some kind soul to aide in climbing the
rock for a short section where the trail had been wiped out in a landslide.
They thought this was the best part.
It was a bit tougher than they had expected as the 
trail rises
more than
1,000ft above Happy Isle, but the views to be had were excellent. Under mostly
sunny skies we were able to see four of the five major waterfalls in Yosemite
Valley from one point, including 
Vernal, Nevada,
Ilillouette, and 
Yosemite
Falls. Directly below we could see people no bigger than ants going to and fro
on the trail to Vernal Falls. They tried shouting down to them, but the roar
of the Merced River drowned out all sounds they could make. The boys seemed
suitably impressed and even thanked me for taking them
when we finally got back down to Happy Isle.
The rest of the day consisted of showers, 
dinner
at the Curry cafeteria (which
was highlighted by a visit from a wayward
squirrel who came into the building
for dinner, completely unafraid of people milling about), chess and
reading in
the adjacent lodge, then the campfire program at the Curry Amphitheater,
though without any campfire, real or otherwise. For the second night in a row
they slept quite soundly, and I don't think it took either more than ten minutes
to fall asleep.
In the morning we had a quick breakfast in our tent, packed up the car, then
headed out for one last hike. The boys weren't too keen on this one to start,
but they soon warmed up to it. We took
the bus from Curry Village to Happy
Isle, then did the 3.5mi hike up to 
Vernal and
Nevada Falls. I told the boys
they got one point for every person they passed on the trail, and lost one for
every person that passed them. The goal was to end with a positive number. They
liked this game, though unknowingly it encouraged them to keep moving and take
only short breaks. They finished at +10 by the time we got to
the top of Nevada
Falls less than two hours later. The Mist Trail (the lower part of the trail to
Vernal Falls) was not as misty as usual, but it was a stunning sight. The
steep steps
slowed the boys down, but they were fascinated by the water, the falls,
the 
squirrels,
lizards, and other things that interest boys. They were
particularly impressed that we could see the railings for Sierra Point high
above the lower part of the trail since we knew just where to look -
a sight few visitors would even recognize,
and fewer had ever visited. This made them feel like part of select, secret
society, and quite proud, too. By the time we were heading back down, the sun
had begun to shine on Vernal Falls and we were treated to a swell
double rainbow
at the base of the falls. Cool. As another game, we counted the number
of people heading up the trail as we were
going down. This is one of the most
popular trails in the whole park, possibly the most popular, and there were
more than 500 people that we passed in the last two miles back to Happy Isle.
All in all, the boys enjoyed their time in Yosemite Valley more than they did the backpack trip in the High Country. While the weather played a role, I think the biggest factor was the number of ammenties and options available in the more civilized part of the park that appealed to them. That didn't surprise me of course - the appreciation of nature for its own sake doesn't happen overnight or with a single experience - it takes a lifetime as far as I can tell. I had been particularly observant of this as I watched the boys around Cathedral Lake the previous days. While I could sit and read, take a walk around the lake, or just enjoy the views from our campsite, the boys didn't see things the same way at all. They wanted to figure out how to interact with the environment and how to mold it to their imagination and playtime. Though the surrounding mountains, trees, and lakes were impressive, in their minds there was nothing more special about it than their own backyard - each was merely a backdrop for their own entertainment. That this area had been set aside by an act of Congress, declared Wilderness - free of human development for all time, had little meaning to them. That, I think, takes time. And we had a fine first step in that direction.