Into the Mystic

I grew up as a valley kid — at the foot of the Sierra. But that didn't mean that the distant murmur of the sea didn't also call me.

The mountains or the sea?

Coming home to the Sur means that you don't have to choose. And maybe that's why many of us have landed here.

From Olmsted Point.Even so, not even the Sur has this clean a sweep of glaciated stone.

Tuolumne MeadowsWhen I was 18 in the valley, the rest of the valley was 18, too. Cutoffs, t-shirt, and Chuck Taylors were the uniform. (And even a couple of those were optional.)

Late one summer night, at one of those valley parties by the river that consisted of beer, the uniform (worn or not), water-immersions, and maybe triple-digit temperatures even at midnight, someone had the big idea that a handful of us should head to Yosemite.

Which meant wide-awake, non-stop conversation and Van Morrison all the way.

When the sun came up that morning, I found myself at the foot of Yosemite Falls.

Half Dome.How many moments does it really take to form whom you will turn out to be?

Ventana Wilderness Alliance president Tom Hopkins.They say that you can't go home again.

But is that really true? Aren't we always going home? And don't we always know just where that home might really be?