Yosemite Travel Log Pre Travel and Day 1

 Before the Backpack Begins

In March, it hit me: the window for outdoor adventures with my kids might be starting to close. I do not believe it will end abruptly when my oldest graduates from high school or when my middle son earns his Eagle Scout rank.  But I know the ease of planning spontaneous hikes, camping trips, and backpacking weekends, something we’d done for the past twelve years, will start to fade unless I make a deliberate effort to keep those experiences alive.

Years ago, my aunt and uncle offered advice that stuck with me: When your kids are getting older, aim for big adventures—fantastic, bold trips—and they’ll likely want to join, even as they begin to step into adulthood. These kinds of trips can be expensive, but they don’t have to be. I began to wonder—could I combine a moonshot adventure with one of my own bucket-list dreams? That’s when it dawned on me: backpacking Yosemite.

I had camped in Yosemite a handful of times and done plenty of day hikes, but I knew that to truly experience its grandeur, we needed to shoulder our packs and head into the backcountry. That kind of opportunity, I hoped, would entice my sons to come along.

Unfortunately it was already March—far too late for prime summer backcountry permits. I turned to Recreation.gov, fingers crossed, and sure enough, options were slim. Most permits were already claimed, and the few that remained would not accommodate a larger group of friends or another parent. I’d have to take what I could get.

I knew I wanted to hike just above the valley floor, but beyond that, I was open. Then I found it: a trailhead that started in Yosemite Valley, fit our group size, matched my vacation schedule—but it just so happened to be one of the park’s most demanding routes. Snow Creek Trail, in two short miles the trail would gain nearly 3,000 feet of elevation.  While the trail checked a lot of boxes, it would not be an easy start.

With the trail selected, I had work to do in order  to complete such a challenging route. I joined a gym and began training on local hikes with significant elevation gains. Once I had our core group committed, I started ramping up our backpacking prep—testing my gear, breaking in my boots, and pushing my cardio with a few challenging outings alongside our Boy Scout troop. We were getting ready—not just for a trail, but for a memory we’d carry long after the packs came off.

T-Minus Two Days to Trailhead

A few days before our backpacking trip, the other dad, Edgar, suggested a great idea: let’s head up to Mammoth early and acclimate. So just before our adventure our group was off.

Our group? Two dads, two college guys, and four high school seniors—basically, two seasoned hikers and a pack of high-energy young adults. It was the perfect mix of experience and enthusiasm.

We set off from Southern California, road-tripping north toward the mountains. Naturally, we made a stop in Bishop at the legendary Erick Schat’s Bakkery, a century-old institution known for its sandwiches and Dutch oven breads. The boys were in their element—laughing, swapping stories, downing towering sandwiches, and releasing some of that buzzing, pre-trip adrenaline.

After lunch, we pushed on to Mammoth. As I pulled up to the condo, my phone buzzed. Edgar texted—his car’s check engine light had come on, and he would be making a quick stop at an auto parts store in town to have it checked. A few minutes later came another update: the car had overheated just before the Mammoth turnoff, about 15 minutes from where we were staying.

I immediately left to pick up the boys he was driving, ferried them to the condo, and headed back out to meet him at the car. We waited for the tow truck, then followed it all the way back to a mechanic in Bishop—just before they closed for the weekend. With limited options his wife would have to coordinate repairs from home while we disappeared into the backcountry.

Meanwhile, we needed a new plan. We booked Edgar a YART bus ticket, and I volunteered to carry the rest—literally. Seven boys, full gear, all crammed into my car. It wasn’t glamorous, but it would work.

That night, we carb-loaded in style: pasta, Italian sausage, and enough food to fuel a small army. I poured a glass of wine and watched as the boys devoured plate after plate, laughter echoing through the condo. Bellies full and spirits high, I turned in for the night, while they stayed up late, playing poker and savoring the calm before the climb.

T-Minus One Day

The next morning started early. I dropped Edgar off at the bus stop for his ride into the valley, and began our drive toward Yosemite. With each mile along Highway 120, the anticipation in the car grew. We stopped at Ogdens overlook, stepping out to take in the sweeping Sierra views.

By the time we reached Curry Village, the valley was already sweltering, flirting with 100 degrees. Our canvas tent cabins wouldn’t be ready for another four hours, so we set about checking in for our wilderness permits and grabbed lunch while we waited for Edgar to arrive.

As we sat in the AC of Deegans Deli, sipping cold drinks and poking at sandwiches, the energy was palpable. The boys were ancy with excitement—nervous, eager, ready—but the heat did a good job of slowing things down and reminding us that this adventure wouldn’t come easy.

When the tents were finally ready, the boys made a beeline for the showers, knowing it would be their last for a while. That evening, we had a relaxed dinner together—burgers, rice bowls, sodas, and chicken wings. The boys’ tent cabins were surrounded by a group of teens about their age, also on a Yosemite trip. Judging by the grins, our crew didn’t mind the company.

I turned in early, laying out my gear carefully for the morning departure. As I lay on a lone flat sheet, the air still warm and heavy, I put on some music and drifted off—grateful, excited, and just a little nervous. Tomorrow, the trail will begin.

Day 1 – The Wall

I wish I could say I slept well, but between the nervous energy, what I swear was a rodent chewing somewhere nearby, and some inexplicable 4:00 a.m. screaming, it was a rough night. By 5:30 a.m., the boys were knocking at my door, I was to wake them at that time. The group of co-eds camping near us had apparently risen early for a sunrise hike—which, suddenly, made their proximity far less appealing to the teenage members of our group.

We made our way into the village for final preparations: water bottles filled, coffee secured, and some mediocre sausage sandwiches heated up for breakfast. I loaded the gear into my car and dropped the it off at the trailhead, as they made the short walk in. After parking, I rejoined them, we took our obligatory “Day One” photo, hoisted our packs, and hit the trail by 7:00 a.m.

The first day was billed as the toughest—over 4,000 feet of elevation gain, with a particularly brutal stretch we came to call The Wall. As we reached the Snow Creek trailhead, the mosquitoes were out in full force. Boys scrambled to don their bug nets while I waited for our eighth member to arrive. The moment I saw him, I urged the group to get moving—motion, I hoped, would keep the bugs at bay.

The Snow Creek Trail doesn’t ease you in. It’s a south-to-southeast-facing ascent, meaning full sun almost immediately, and the trail launches straight into over 100 switchbacks. Rangers had advised aiming for a pace of one mile per hour would be quick—and I took that to heart. We hit The Wall about 45 minutes after we set off from the trailhead.

The hike is not all struggle and sweat. As you climb the granite walls, you’re rewarded with panoramic views—from angles of Yosemite Valley that rarely make it into guidebooks.

Though exposed in places, the trail winds through generous stretches of pine and cedar, with patches of shade that become small sanctuaries. I aimed for ten switchbacks between breaks, but if I’m being honest, it ended up being more like “every shaded rock that could support my pack.” I tore through my snacks and nearly drained my water. My eldest son raced ahead and, while I couldn’t match his pace, I was proud of my own 2-hour-and-15-minute climb to the top.

When I reached Snow Creek, I was officially out of water and ready to rest. I kicked off my boots, soaked my feet in the icy creek, and began filtering water. My son was already there, resting in the shade beneath a tree. Over the next two hours, the rest of our group trickled in—along with two recent high school grads from Ohio on a senior trip. We chatted, went over maps and routes, and watched the boys recover in the creekside shade.

After a good rest, we hiked—mercifully without packs—to the overlook. At just over 6,600 feet, the vista offered a unique and stunning angle across Yosemite Valley. The view alone made The Wall worth it. We took pictures, lounged in the shade, and soaked in the accomplishment before heading back to refill our bottles, grab our gear, and continue on.

While the mileage ahead was modest—just two more miles—our bodies had other plans. The combination of heat, fatigue, and a sudden absence of adrenaline turned a one-hour hike into a grueling two-to-three-hour uphill grind. Some of the boys were dragging, and one gratefully handed off his pack for the final quarter mile. To top it off, the seasonal creek near camp was too shallow to filter, so we had to backtrack nearly a quarter mile to find a suitable water source.

As we set up camp and began preparing dinner, a sharp CRACK rang out. Everyone turned. A blur of black and brown streaked right past our kitchen area. Some swore they saw three bears, others two—but either way, there was no doubt that a bear (or bears) had caught wind of the spam sizzling on the pan.

Though we finished our dinner, it was clear our initial camp layout wasn’t ideal, we relocated. Bear bins went one direction, and our tents a solid 100–200 feet away.

A small group hiked out again to gather and clean up water supplies while the rest settled in. By the time they returned—what felt like an hour later—my middle son had already set up the tent for himself and his brother and was sound asleep. In fact, most of the boys were out cold, thoroughly exhausted from a challenging but unforgettable day.

Day 1 Stats: 7.5 miles hiked, 4,535 elevation gained