Sequoias, the Majestic Hotel, Jelly Bellys, and Family: A National Park Odyssey Days 24-25

Yosemite National Park to Durham, CA via the Jelly Belly Factory 

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Kinley and Knox stand in front of one of Yosemite's giant sequoias.

For our last full day in Yosemite, we wanted to see some more sequoias.  We’d seen them in Kings Canyon and Sequoia, of course, but we needed another fix.  And since Yosemite has a three groves, we decided to take a ranger-guided hike into one.  The Mariposa Grove was closed to visitors while we were there and another one requires a significant hike, so we drove to the Tuolumne Grove for the 10:00 program. 

We hiked about a mile down a relatively steep old logging road to get to the grove where Ranger Sierra and a small group of other visitors were congregating in the shadow of some thousand-year-old sequoias.  It was then that I noticed for the first time that the leather hat band and leather belt on a park ranger’s uniform are both decorated with sequoia pine cones! 

Ranger Sierra began our ranger talk in a spot where sequoias in all stages of development were evident.

Hundreds of potential sequoias lie in these pine cones.

This was one of the best ranger talks we participated in during our entire summer. Ranger Sierra pointed out sequoias in all stages – as mere pinecones, as little baby seedlings, as “teenagers”, in the prime of their lives, and fallen ones. They were just as grand and awe-inspiring in Yosemite as they had been in Sequoia and Kings Canyon.  The forty-five minutes flew by as our group followed the ranger through the grove, and then it was time for the steep climb back out. 

 

Ranger Sierra kneels to point out baby sequoias.

This seedling could live for the next 1800 years.

Josh cranes his neck to see the top of one of the massive trees while Ranger Sierra talks.

Back at the visitors’ center, the kids got their Junior Ranger badges.  Yosemite requires each potential Junior Ranger to pick up a bag of trash, and the kids had done the nasty job of collecting theirs at Lower Yosemite Falls the day before.  Yosemite thoughtfully provides both the bag and a plastic glove for the kids to use, and you aren’t required to prove that you actually did it at all. We took pictures, of course, but the ranger took our word for it.

Kinley gets rid of her bag of collected trash.

Knox looks awfully chipper for someone holding bags full of other people's waste.

Another unique part of the Junior Ranger process at Yosemite is that every new Junior Ranger gets to sign a huge ledger listing all of the people who’ve completed the program.  Our kids have earned many Junior Ranger badges all over the US, and we’d never seen anything like this before.  The ranger told the kids that many of the people who’ve signed this book over the years are now Senators and Representatives and CEOs.

 

Kinley and Knox get sworn in.

They also added their names to the Yosemite book of Junior Rangers.

Badges in hand, we were up for one last hike.  The Vernal Falls Trail is a paved trail that leads first to a bridge overlooking the falls and then on up to the top of the falls.  A sign at the bottom let us know that we probably hadn’t brought enough water to make the trip all the way to the top, so we decided to go to the bridge and see how we felt.  The climb was steep and it was hot, so the bridge was as far as we made it.  Watching the force of the massive amount of water as it surged under us as we stood on the bridge was enough to keep us from wading at the water’s edge, but there was also a warning sign in case the sight of the water wasn’t convincing.

 

The Vernal Falls footbridge was a good place to turn around and head back.

We had dinner reservations at the Majestic Hotel dining room (formerly the Awahnee), and after an aborted attempt to walk that ended with us wandering cluelessly around a nearby campground with the Awahnee nowhere in sight, we took the shuttle to the historic hotel.  We had a little time to look around the lobby before we were escorted into the cavernous dining room that seats 300.  Imagine a rustic, Southwest-themed Hogwarts, and you get a pretty good idea of what the room looked like.  Candelabra hung from the 34-foot ceilings and adorned every table.  Massive pine timbers made up the tresses of the vaulted roofline.  Granite pillars were positioned between floor-to-ceiling windows that afforded views of the surrounding scenery.  The alcove of windows at the end of the room was built to perfectly frame Yosemite Falls.  It was magical.

 

The dining room of the historic Majestic Hotel was like a rustic Hogwarts.

The dining room was built in 1927, and was originally planned to seat 1000.  During construction, the decision was made to downsize, but the kitchen was already too complete to be changed.  Thus, the kitchen is actually larger than the dining room itself and could easily accommodate the staff and equipment needed to feed 1000.

The roasted cauliflower appetizer was our favorite.

Our favorite dish by far was the roasted cauliflower appetizer with curried yogurt sauce.  It was divine, and the addition of purple cauliflower made it appealing to look at as well as to eat.  We also ordered the grilled salmon with white bean ragout and the prime rib with caramelized onions and whipped potatoes while Knox got the kids’ ravioli.  We’ve tried to just order a kid’s menu item for Knox and then split two entrees among the rest of us when eating at nice places on this trip, and most of our servers haven’t seemed to get too irritated about it.  For dessert, we had the Majestic Skillet Cookie, a warm chocolate chip cookie cooked in a cast iron skillet and topped with vanilla ice cream and salted caramel sauce.  It was the perfect ending.

Before heading back to the shuttle, we stopped off in the sweet shop to grab some homemade doughnuts for the next morning’s breakfast.  As we left, I took a moment to dream about staying a night or two at this magical place with its lobby filled with Native American rugs, trophy bison, comfy leather sofas, massive fireplaces, and luxuriously rustic furniture.  And then headed back to our Cabin Without Bathroom, still dreaming all the way.

The next morning, (after hiking to the bath house), we packed up our gear to head to a family celebration in Durham, CA.  Josh’s aunt and uncle would be celebrating forty years of marriage, and we were excited to get to be there for the festivities.  On the way, we stopped in Fairfield at the Jelly Belly Factory for a tour.  We had stopped at this same factory in 2001 with baby Kinley on our way to visit Josh’s aunt and uncle, and we were anxious to share the experience with both kids.  The tour is free and includes a bag of Jelly Bellys and a hat (it is an actual factory, after all, so visitors have to cover their hair to meet regulations).

 

Jelly Bellys are the best!

Things we learned:

*The Jelly Belly company uses real fruit juices and purees in many of their beans.

*The mold used to form the beans isn’t a permanent mold.  It’s just a tray full of cornstarch with little bean-shaped indentations in it made by a machine. 

*Jelly Belly has a new factory in Thailand.

*Twelve pounds of Jelly Belly Belly Flops (the imperfect ones that they sell for a discount) is a reasonable purchase.

*The ratio of matcha-flavored beans to other flavors is far out of proportion in the bags of Belly Flops.  So if you love this flavor, we can hook you up.

*The three most popular flavors are buttered popcorn, very cherry, and black licorice.

*The blueberry Jelly Belly was created specifically for the second inauguration of President Ronald Reagan.  The company already made very cherry and coconut, but they needed a blue bean.

*President Reagan’s favorite Jelly Belly flavor was black licorice.

*President Reagan gave out crystal jars of the red, white, and blue beans all throughout his presidency as gifts.

*Jelly Belly employs a full-time artist-in-residence to create Jelly Belly art.

 

Millions of colorful Jelly Bellys rest before being packaged.

Before being added to variety packs, the Jelly Bellys are sorted onto this conveyor belt.

Knox poses next to a Jelly Belly portrait of the candy company's most famous fan.

A copy of a thank-you letter from The Gipper himself

Equipped with enough Belly Flops to feed an army, we continued on our way to meet up with family for dinner.  Josh’s Aunt Nancy and Uncle Larry own a huge almond orchard and were hosting us in their sprawling, art-filled ranch home for supper.  When we arrived, we were welcomed with hugs and an impressive spread of Southern-with-a-splash-of-Californian foods including ham, mac & cheese, salad, green beans, potatoes, and watermelon.  The food was delicious, but just being with family was the best part.  Later, the kids played in the sparkling pool while the rest of us talked and laughed. 

 

Family time around the pool

Let me just take a moment to gush about this home and Aunt Nancy’s impeccable taste.  This is easily my favorite ranch home on the planet, and I bask in its homey feel and beautiful décor each time we visit.  It is designed so that it wraps around the pool area, so both the master bedroom and guest room have lovely views and doors leading to the beautifully-landscaped garden and pool area.  A redwood grove stands sentinel over a shaded picnic area while fruit and almond trees beckon just outside the fence.  Inside, works by Calder, Picasso, and (my favorite) Wayne Thiebaud as well as countless other artists adorn the walls.  Exquisite pices of art glass by Orient & Flume and David Smallhouse perch precariously on tables and countertops, but the toddlers and preschoolers in the family play nearby, uninhibited, without ever touching a single precious piece.  I love it all and treasure each time that Aunt Nancy pulls me aside to tell me about a new piece in her collection.

After a pleasant evening, warmly embraced in familial love, we snuggled down in our comfy bed in the guest room, ready to visit park number 13 the next day.

What Not to Do on the 4th of July: A National Parks Odyssey Day 23

Yosemite National Park

Our family hasn’t been in the United States for a 4^th of July since 2009.  And this year was only the third year in Knox’s lifetime that we were in the US for the holiday.  He doesn’t remember ever having a traditional 4^th of July.  In fact, last year while doing mission work in Brazil, we mentioned something about sparklers, and he didn’t know what they were.  So this year, since we were going to be in the good old US of A for Independence Day, I wanted to be sure to do something, well, really 4^th-of-July-ish.

 

This is the only picture I have from July 4th, 2009.  And it turns out that Josh and I weren't in the country then, either.  We were on a no-kids trip to the Virgin Islands.  So I haven't been in the US for the 4th since 2007.  In this picture, Knox is watching the parade in Fort Thomas, KY with his grandparents.

To be honest, I had actually forgotten that the 4^th of July would be happening while we were on this trip because I’ve grown so unaccustomed to thinking about it during our summers.  So when I finally connected the dots a week or so into our journey, I Googled “July 4^th events at Yosemite” to find out what the park system would be doing to honor the occasion.  I was disappointed to find that the park had nothing – zero, nada -- online about the holiday.  (Once we arrived in Yosemite, we saw fliers for several holiday events in the park – a talent show, a hoedown, a sing-along – but none of them were listed anywhere online, a fact I was sure to point out to park officials.)  The best I could find online two weeks ahead was an outdoor buffet that I managed to book at a resort outside the park.  The information on the website promised traditional 4^th of July food and entertainment, minus the fireworks, of course, since the park prohibits them and the resort shares park boundaries.  But still, we had reservations for red, white, and blue fun.

We woke up excited to celebrate our nation’s birthday in one of its most beautiful places.  The problem was, we had forgotten how packed state and national parks are for the 4th.  The shuttles were packed, the visitors’ center was mobbed, and the trails were overwhelmed with people.  To make things worse, I made the mistake of checking my Facebook feed using the free wifi at the Half Dome Village lounge and found myself frustrated by all of the posts criticizing and condemning our country and emphasizing its many mistakes.  People were griping about fireworks and politics and the admittedly horrible things that America has done from its settlement until today.  And these posts weren’t from my many friends from other countries, mind you.  They were from my fellow Americans.  Americans who clearly hadn’t spent eight summers in foreign countries while the rest of their friends and family celebrated with cookouts and watermelon and flag-shaped desserts and trips to the lake.  And it put me in a seriously foul mood.  Here I was, actually getting to spend an Independence Day in my very own country for the first time in eight years, and all I felt was angry.

Until I looked around me.

I was surrounded by immigrants and foreign visitors.  I could hear numerous languages.  I could see evidence in clothing choices of multiple cultures.  Here I was, visiting a place of stunning natural beauty that was only protected because of our clearly-imperfect national government, and who was here with me?  People from all over the planet.  And guess what many of them were wearing.

Wait for it.

Old Navy Fourth of July t-shirts.  Droves of them.  Entire families were wearing them.  Over their saris.  Over their salwar kameezes.  Under their hijabs.  They even sported American flag sunglasses.  Proudly.  And, to be fair, these people could all have been fifth generation American citizens.  I didn’t make them produce their passports.  But still.  They were wearing things emblazoned with the symbols of an imperfect country, whether it was their home country or not.  And it made me feel better.

When I first asked to take this family's picture, they were VERY hesitant.  But when I explained that they were the perfect representation of the spirit of the 4th of July, the patriarch (on the far left) gave his enthusiastic consent.  Notice both the Old Navy tee and the American flag sunglasses.

These people came to this country – in spite of its faults – because there is beauty here.  They aren’t here because we’ve got it all figured out.  Or because they like it here better than they like their own country.  Or because our government makes all the right choices.  They came to see the beauty here for themselves.  And while they were here, they wanted to celebrate with us.  And they unashamedly wore their red, white, and blue on American Independence Day.

I know this one isn't an Old Navy one, but I promise there were dozens.  And they weren't on WASP-ish people.

And I was proud.  And moved.  And vindicated.

Some Americans act as if we have a corner on the frustration-with-our-government market.  And to them I’d say, you need to get out more.  Talk to Brazilians.  They are so frustrated that many of them are far beyond feeling any sort of hope for their country.  But does that stop them from singing their national anthem at the top of their voices during a World Cup match?  Does it stop them from proudly sporting flip-flops and t-shirts emblazoned with their national flag?  Does it stop them from genuinely loving their homeland?  Nope.

All countries are flawed.  Because countries are made up of people.  And people are flawed.  And it is possible to love your country while being frustrated with its policies.

Here’s the thing.  I try to give people I know a little more leeway on their birthday.  When a friend experiences unfortunate circumstances, I empathize.  But if something unfortunate happens on her birthday?  Well, that’s even worse.  In fact, most of us try to be nice to our friends and family on their birthdays.  So I just think it’s bad form to criticize America on her birthday.  You want to point out all the ways she’s not yet evolved to the point you (and I) want her to be?  You’ve got 364 other days to do it.  But on July 4^th, I just want to be grateful. 

For things like national parks (which the US invented, by the way).  For wide open spaces.  For barbecue.  For jazz.  For Broadway.  For squirrels. (Foreigners get really excited about seeing squirrels.)  For drinkable tap water. (You think it’s only third world countries that have unsafe tap water?  You’re wrong.)  For recycling.  (You think all developed nations recycle?  Nope.)  For entrepreneurship.  (You think anyone in any country can start a business if they have the skills and the finances?  Wrong again.) For not having to pay for a virtual private network in order to check my email.  (My spring break trip made me grateful for that one.)  For Senators and Representatives who don’t always vote with their party.  (Ask the Australians the last time that a Member of Parliament did that in their country.)  Did I mention national parks?

That evening, we had a great time celebrating our country.  We drove to Tenaya Resort, ate good food, practiced archery (OK, not a typical 4^th of July activity, but fun nonetheless), participated in a sing-along, and made s’mores.  We met some new people and basked in the American-ness of the whole thing.  It wasn’t exactly the Independence Day traditions of my youth, but it satisfied my craving for an American celebration in my own country on July 4^th.

Knox and Kinley aim for the target.

Knox roasts his marshmallow to perfection.

Not sure why he needed sunglasses to make a s'more, but there it is.

Dinner included barbecue, chili, and baked potatoes.  The decor was super festive, too!

Family picture!

Knox sang  on stage with the band!

And then on the way back to our little cabin in Yosemite Valley, we pulled over just before dark to check out a lovely little meadow trail.  There wasn’t another soul on the trail, so we sang every single patriotic song we could possibly come up with.  At the top of our lungs.  Even when we couldn’t remember the words.  (Who has all the words to “This Is My Country” memorized anyway?  It’s impressive enough that we knew the chorus.)  But we knocked it out of the park with “America, the Beautiful,” “My Country ‘Tis of Thee,” “You’re a Grand Ole Flag,” “God Bless America,” and “This Land is Your Land.”  We even made a brief foray into all the state songs we could think of as we drove back to the Yosemite Valley.  We sang and laughed and made fun of each other for messing up the words. 

And we felt connected.  Connected to our families celebrating elsewhere in more traditional ways.  Connected to each other.  Connected to our homeland.  And connected to all those families from who-knows-where who were proudly wearing their American flag t-shirts in one of the most beautiful places in the world. 

And it felt good.  And it reminded me of what NOT to do on the 4^th of July.

1)    Don’t check Facebook unless other people’s complaints don’t bother you.

2)    Don’t plan to be in a national park unless you LOVE crowds.
3)    Don’t worry about not remembering all the words.  Sing loud and proud.  Maybe in an Old Navy 4^th of July t-shirt.