01.14.08
A Walk Along The Rim
The job was good medicine, but Armen would feel even better with cash in his pocket. Inconveniently, his paycheck would be deposited directly to his bank account, so he’d need to take a bus up to the Valley to get his hands on it. When he got to the bank, he couldn’t remember his PIN, so he bought a couple cans of soda and decided to walk home. Not wishing to walk the narrow, bus-stuffed highway, he opted to hike home by way of the north rim.
He caught a shuttle from the Village to the Lodge, and hiked up to the rim from there. The dry season was well under way, and the black oaks and manzanita had begun their long, slow roast. As he ascended the south-facing wall, his boots slipped a little with every step on the eroded granite. He’d stop occasionally to inhale the aroma of slowly burning vegetation.
Above the falls, the route turned up Eagle Peak Creek, passed behind Eagle Peak, and then crossed Eagle Creek. So many eagles on the map; he looked upward to check the sky. It occurred to him that the cliffs of Yosemite’s sunny side must be a great habitat for buteos. The thermals must be incredible, he thought, and the visibility for predation—unsurpassed.
Where the trail passed El Capitan, he turned off trail, over the summit to the rim, where he sat down to soak up some sun. While gazing over the massive granite cliff, he eyed a pair of turkey vultures soaring upward on an afternoon thermal. Their wings teetered nervously as if they were each on a high wire. He lay back on the stone floor, and played his best possum. He watched the soaring vultures through the shield of his eyelashes. He thought of his sister Cindy, how she so loved to play possum for vultures, and how she’d made such an art—or religion—of it. He let himself drift off to sleep for a moment.
He returned to the trail, and proceeded west behind Fireplace Bluffs and the Cascades to Foresta, a pleasant, shaded, residential community above the canyon. “Foresta” was an appropriate name for the place, but not for long. He wound down the road to the falls as night fell, and continued to tromp blindly down into the canyon. His feet began to ache. At one point, the white stripe of a skunk bounced out in front of him. Rather than running off into the bushes alongside the road, it proceeded to lead Armen down the dark road; an unwelcome guide in the dark. Together, they crept around yet another Eagle Peak—the one that stands above the community of El Portal. Armen managed to get to his cabin without stumbling over his escort.
© 2008 Dan J. Jensen
