It wasn’t long ago that outside Yosemite Valley, you could expect to nearly have the park to yourself in October. I remember several fall trips to the top of Cathedral Peak where I was almost alone. Nevertheless, I enjoy the park this time of year. Things are quieter than mid-summer, and there is something special about the lazy feel of autumn days against such a powerful landscape.
Maybe sixteen years ago, my son Drew and I backpacked into Young Lakes, a lovely spot about six miles out of Tuolumne Meadows. On that occasion and one other, I had tried to climb Mt. Conness and failed. With Drew, we simply went to the wrong mountain; 12,057-foot White Mountain, not far away. Another time, on a quick trip up from my sea level home, I simply didn’t have the poop. Despite my 64 years, I hoped Conness would be within my trudging range this time.
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I made it to Conness with very little whining and barely a tear shed. My entry in the summit register was the only one that day. Among the three Young Lakes or going up and down Mt. Conness, every sight took my breath away.