Before I visited the place, I had heard of the Sequoia National Park several times throughout my…read morelife and all these mentions amounted to me believing one large fact: that the place was a sprawling, maybe never ending, sea of deep forest pageantry. And do not get me wrong, the place is in fact miles and miles and cubic centimeters of forest as commonly imagined. It had tall trees, meadows, dirt paths with twigs and shrubs all around and views so expansive the word majestic comes to mind. But after walking the same scenery for hours the beauty in green became a dull brown motif. Wood sprites might have heard my words or seen my unimpressed and tired face because Sequoia stopped being a forest of trees and green and it started to become a land of different weathers that not only gave me new challenges and vistas to experience but it also gave me beauty I had to endure.
As I saw my friend Denise walk into a spherical cloud of fog, I realized that this place oscillated between being both proof of nature's magic and her jagged disposition. The fog seemed like a portal to Avalon where Pulk waited with prose, but it was also a reminder of all the sailors and drivers lost when the thickness of mist impairs good visual choices. The fog sphere was seen after Denise and I walked for hours, uphill, to see Morro Rock. As we walked up, we first passed mist that seem to have broken from a cloud. This was a sensational moment. She and. had both skydove but this is the first time where we felt like we walked through cloud veils, insetad of zooming past them with the hope of gravitiy abandon. I do not think I will ever re-feel the sensation of walking on cloud air, literally.
She and I got separated. I thought I could follow the signs. But the signs were tricksters. As I walked toward the museum I saw a sign that said this way to Crescent Meadow. I did not see a sign that said this way to Crescent Meadow (pointing to the left) and this way to the Museum (pointing ahead). I assumed that because I no longer saw signs assuring me that I was on the right path, I must have gotten into the wrong one. I share this as the biggest piece of advice that I wish to give: Stay the trail, despite not having signs of reassurance that you are still in the right direction. The signs, and my broken internal compass, are both valid reasons as to why I eventually left the designated path and got lost. Like legit lost in the wilderness of Sequoia. I was not in an episode of Naked and Afraid but I did feel scared, disoriented and like I would not see my life tomorrow. Before I got to this point of panic, I arrived at a bluff of a white mountain that saw me greet miles of green pines that streched as far as the eye could see. It was a Rocky-like-triumph moment, except that I had to drag myself, as I sat, down this white mountain, but that was my survival experience that I am proud to have endured. After sliding down, I searched for paths that seemed walked on before, and found several that I had to follow and eliminae. I climbed over trees by hugging their fallen bark, and almost lost my shoe. I continued and eventually found a path and others humans. I was save for now. I got lost again but this time my survival was quicker as I walked down to the road. Rangers told me that I was not able to ride in the truck after I explained I was scared and unable to find my way twice. One of them told me to follow the road and eventually I would hit the museum. I did just that and I found my friend Denise waiting in the museum. After hugs laced with relief, she and I continued our trek to Sherman.
But we got hit by rain. I had a hoodie. She did not. Her face looked beautiful covered with the remains of heavy rain. We walked and the sleet followed. We were wet, damp, and we were scared. What could be next? We could not find our path to Sherman. We waved people down, hoping that someone would take us to our car near Sherman. Eventually, we met Chester and he let us both into his car. The snow now was falling hard. She and I did not expect snow. We did not expect white to fall from the sky not when we were promised green on top of green all around. We got to the car and she drove in Snow for the first time. It was both scary and and beuatiful. I imagined that I was in snow caped mountains seeing frozen giants walk around. The night was gray. The monsters were there. She worried about us not having snow tired but still we drove down the snow covered pines, in a pilgramage to safety. Before we left the park we saw mist contrasted in the dark of the knight. It was a spooky evening, yes, the one that frames scary stories. But for us the night mist was further proof that Sequoia offers weather that is cyclical within a day. With space from the experience, I am only happythat I visited the place and was ensconsed by its many seasons. And, grateful that I survived the beauty of it all.
