Old Grandad and a New Treasure

No, Old Grandad isn't a bottle of booze, although I think I remember a brand of whiskey by that name or something similar. Old Grandad is a tree, a Giant Sequoia, allegedly, although during our hike in the hinterlands of Nelder Grove Gail and I couldn't exactly identify which tree it is.

Gail is a hiking buddy I met several years ago the first time I hiked with the Sierra Club. We've been friends ever since, and in 2006 she even accompanied me on a journey back to Riverton, Wyoming, to visit my then-100 year-old aunt Bessie and my cousins Linda and Carolyn. She's a great pal. I don't get to see nearly enough of her because our schedules don't seem to mesh that often since she moved to Ponderosa Basin and I to YLP.

I love hiking with her. She's way more experienced than I, having accomplished some of the significant hikes in Yosemite, such as Cloud's Rest and Merced Lake.

She and I conquered the trail to the top of Yosemite Falls together. We were hiking with some of the hotshots from the Sierra Club, and they left the two of us in the dust. It may just be a faulty memory, but of all the hikes I've ever done, Yosemite Falls remains the most challenging. It's a 3-mile (one way) slog up stone steps and switchbacks, and if you're on the trail late enough in the day, you're hiking with the heat of the sun beating down on you. Without Gail to offer me encouragement (and vice versa),  I would never have made it to the top. She says the same. The hike features some incredible views of Yosemite Valley. I'm glad I did it but don't ever plan to do it again.

We also hiked Half Dome together, although she elected not to climb the cables. (I did.) For that hike we took the long way, departing from and returning to Glacier Point. We started at 7:30 a.m. and reached the car that night at 11:00 p.m.. trekking up from Illilouette Falls with flashlights and headlamps.

When Gail suggested we hike today, Labor Day, she thought we might head to Kings Canyon for a favorite walk in Redwood Canyon. The long drive didn't appeal to me, and I tried every way I could think of to talk myself out of the hike. (Too hot, too much to do, want just one more day at home, etc., etc., etc.) I'm glad to say I never hit on the magic excuse. Friend Virginia mentioned that she'd never done the walk at Nelder Grove's Shadow of the Giants, a very easy trail, so I hit on a brainstorm. Why not do that? Gail was just as happy not to make the long drive to Redwood Canyon but thought we needed more of a workout than Shadow of the Giants--and by that time we knew Virginia wouldn't be going along. We decided on the trail to the Grandad and the Kids, 6 miles round trip. She'd walked it before; I hadn't.

The hike begins just outside the Nelder Grove Campground, The weather was mild, in the high 70's when we started, at an elevation of 5,000 ft or so. The trail winds gently upward through a forest of Ponderosas, Incense Cedars and the occasional Giant Sequoia. Although patches of the trail are in sun, most of the way we were shaded by forest cover.

It was simply the perfect hike for a perfect day. Leaving the car at 9:30 a.m., we walked at a leisurely pace and reached the trees labeled as the Clothespin, the Kiowa, the Hawksworth and Old Grandad a bit before noon. We took a spur trail off to the left just beyond the Hawksworth based on the sign that pointed to Old Grandad, but we never could identify that tree.

No matter.


We delighted in the massive trees we visited, the long-distance view of the Tenaya Lodge and the wail of the Yosemite Mountain Sugar Pine Railroad as we munched on a bit of lunch. We even discovered a small cluster of Indian Paintbrush blooming in the shadow of the Hawksworth, last remnants of spring/summer wildflowers.














It always amazes me that I see things on the way back that I miss on the trek up the trail. At the point where the trail crossed Nelder Creek (just a trickle right now), Gail spotted Pacific Dogwood trees with their colorful seedpods, and a Western Sister butterfly played on a log in front of us.

We got back to the car at around 2:30 p.m. As we approached the parking lot, we were congratulating ourselves on a hike so solitary that we hadn't seen another soul all day--when a man and woman appeared in front of us. We chatted with them for a few minutes and discovered that they, like us, were locals and that they, too, like me, had never hiked this trail. We took time to encourage them onward and upward.

This is a trail I want to explore again in spring when the snow melts. It has to be even more spectacular with dogwoods in bloom.

What is this?