Tromping to the beat of my trekking poles’ clickety-clack against trailside stones, I notice perched on a low boulder ten feet away a yellow-bellied marmot, slothful and only superficially interested in the approach of my dad and I. Nozzle pointed heavenward, sniffing our advance, the marmot scuttles under his rock as we pass, unhurried, only to reemerge as soon as we hike several paces beyond. Looks like a giant hamster coated in grizzled cinnamon with a gold spackle gut. I snap a picture.

Dad and I are on the fringes of Yosemite National Park’s backcountry above Chilnualna Falls, and we can’t find the lake for the life of us. Perhaps the rapidly melting groundcover snow from last night’s storm obscures a side trail. Maybe we’re distracted by magnificent lodgepole pines, dripping and stretching one hundred and twenty feet towards gray nimbus clouds speed racing like catamarans on an ocean of sky. It’s getting late, and I am in charge of crafting chili Frito boats for dinner with friends back at Summerdale Campground in Sierra National Forest. Time to head back.

Saturday Morning

Chilnualna Falls Trail, starting at 4,200 feet, embarks from Wiwona within a tunnel of California black oak whose gnarled hobgoblin shapes beckon the passersby into an enchanted realm. Lofty ponderosa pines and incense-cedars obscure all direct sunlight while the needle-strewn forest floor radiates warm browns, ambers, and reds. Within an eighth of a mile, the path leads up what seem to be the Stairs of Cirith Ungol with oversized granite hewn blocks scaling a crooked misty ascent. Chilnualna Creek’s unnamed bottomland cascades, worthy of their own destination trail, tumble 20 or 30 feet over gigantic granite slabs into small rock wall pools. Everything is leafy and damp.

I set a leisurely pace. Swaying, meandering switchbacks wind two thousand feet up Turner Ridge’s southern slope. Underneath the lower montane forest spreads a cushion of Woodwardia ferns and poison oak. The grade is steep as it zigzags over dozens of contour lines on our Tom Harrison Yosemite High Country map. Views over the Winona Valley below and the backcountry ridgeline above are hidden by conical treetops rising like swirls of lime meringue froyo. Occasional squaw currant clearings offer glimpses of dense evergreen jungle matting the Sierra Nevadas’ every pitch, every backbone, every gulch. After a tiring four and a half miles, the path leaves the mountainside shadows and half-moons towards Winona Dome’s granite facade.

Yosemite National Park

Yosemite National Park. What else is there to say? Almost 1,200 square miles of the Sierra Nevada’s most vibrant woodlands, granite whalebacks, dramatic ridgelines, and, of course, the world’s most marvelous valley are latticed by 800 miles of perfectly maintained trails. “Into this one mountain mansion Nature had gathered her choicest treasures, to draw her lovers into close and confiding communion with her” John Muir enthused in The Yosemite. He was right.

Despite such expansive dimensions, the park’s infrastructure and land host a burdensome four million visitors each year. Avoiding the hustle-bustle of the park’s many famous hikes can be challenging. If you find yourself visiting the park for a few days, after the de rigueur tour of the valley, the Chilnualna Falls Trail offers a far more secluded retreat near the park’s south entrance. It’s a Saturday in May, and Dad and I pass 30 or so fellow day hikers and a single group of four backpackers – peanuts compared to other day hikes within park boundaries. In the early hours of the morning, we have the mountain entirely to ourselves.

The Falls

A touch over one mile later, dad and I traipse over the last few hundred feet to a lookout over lower Chilnualna Falls. We listen to the caustic roar of springtime floodwaters falling three hundred and forty feet over two cataracts somewhere beneath us within a deep slit in the granite platform which acts as a funnel for terrific, warlike howls of plummeting water. Although a precarious perch would offer further views, neither of us is very fond of heights. We continue to the upper falls several hundred yards upstream.

The view of rushing snowmelt drainage plunging 50 feet over broken granite shelves instigates us to stop for a snack of peanut butter-filled pretzels and H2O. Something about waterfalls captivates man’s imagination, his instinct to worship. Spigotless roiling water flooding downwards displays unswerving continuity through time, an invitation to think deep thoughts about past and future, entrancing like a campfire’s curling auburn flames. If waterfalls elicit awe, than Yosemite is a temple, perhaps the most magnificent temple, nature offers to inspire contemplation about our lot as humans. Dad and I are transfixed by the grinding power of water against granite, the torrent’s thunderous self-applause, the rainbow-clad spray above an invitingly placid pool. I am trivial next to such breathtaking phenomena. I can sit here forever and just look. I think deep thoughts.

The Lake

With plenty of energy left, we decide to continue upwards and hike towards a lake at 8,300 feet about five miles further. Clambering over a granite rim above the falls, we hug Chilnualna Creek’s headwaters. A puffy layer of mist hovers over the diamond white snow like a frizzy hairdo or like nighttime fairies sowing the forest floor with pixy dust. The towering canopy of evenly spaced sugar and lodgepole pines filters the morning’s sunlight into soft emerald beams which dance with every ripple of the wind through snowy boughs. Electric green lichens slather massive tree trunks curving 15 feet in circumference. The claustrophobic stillness of the woods, excepting the crunch of our boots against the icy footpath, is surreal, and I feel like I am entering someone else’s wintery dream world. The scene is pure magic.

The path gradually climbs upwards, crosses, and then leaves the creek, but we are never far from running water. We tiptoe over an unnamed effluent and twist around the southern base of Buena Vista Peak. Sunshine is obscured by a persistent layer of gray clouds which we penetrate as we gain elevation until, over lunch in a quiet waterlogged meadow, we watch fogbanks whirl around us, obscuring the marsh and forest in hazy walls of wet. It’s frigid, and the weather looks sure to get worse.

“Where’s that lake?” Dad wonders out loud. “I think we must have passed it,” I surmise, watching the vapor somersault through trees. “We’re probably closer to Crescent Lake by now.” I want to tramp forward endlessly, meeting and knowing every special feature in this place on a first name basis. I never want to go back. I’m bewitched, ready to live out my days as a washed up hermit hiding in the depths of the Yosemite high country. So much to see. So much to learn. Dragging my thoughts back into reality, I mumble out loud, “We better turn around.” Dad agrees.

Need to Know

Information

Distance: 11.2 miles round trip to upper Chilnualna Falls, 4-6 hours. Trails: Well maintained and plainly marked. Elevation: 2,240 feet cumulative gain to upper Chilnualna Falls. Permits are not required for day hikes. More information can be found at the National Park Service’s website.

Getting There

From San Diego, take I-5 north and fork onto CA-99 on north side of Grapevine near Bakersfield. Take CA-41 north through Fresno and continue into Yosemite. Expect seven hours to reach the park’s south entrance, two more hours to reach Yosemite Valley on a windy mountain road. Alternative routes through the desert and Tehachapi Pass are preferable to LA’s dismal traffic jams.

Best Time to Go

Depending on the year and snowpack, the waterfalls are usually blasting from May until June, making for magnificent views. Otherwise, like all over the Sierra, the weather is typically best in August and September…although the falls are lower then.

Maps and Books

Tom Harrison maps are indispensable for all California hiking excursions. A family-run affair, Tom and his wife only create and publish maps of the best California hiking areas. They are beautifully informative and almost deceptively easy to interpret and follow. I heartily recommend using the Tom Harrison Yosemite High Country Map. National Geographic also offers their Trails Illustrated Yosemite Day Hikes map. As far as books go, John Muir's The Yosemite is as good a tour guide to Yosemite as can be hoped for. Day Hiking Yosemite National Park also offers information on shorter hikes in the park, as well as Best Easy Day Hikes: Yosemite National Park, with Hiking Yosemite National Park offering further information.

Editor's Note: This article originally appeared in Issue 25 of TrailGroove Magazine. You can read the original article here for additional photos and content.