We had a detour yesterday. We were having a grand time seeing the sights, reading historical pages and wandering through museums as we drove south on the historic Gold Rush Highway 49 from Eldorado County down through Sonora and toward the south entrance of Yosemite, until we spied a man, several trucks and a big sign that said, “Highway 49 is Closed.” Well now, there weren’t a whole lot of choices except to head east onto Highway 120 that traversed the far western ridges of Yosemite. I asked the kind gent if 120 was open all the way through the park. He wasn’t sure but it was a beautiful road, he offered. Beautiful, yes, but can I get through the park? I don’t know, he reiterated, but it’s a beautiful drive. We took the detour instead of turning around. Deep in our recesses it felt okay. There were torrential rains in the previous days and roads were washed out all over California, but to double the trouble, the mountain roads were still chalked full of ice and snow. We drove. And it was amazing. We climbed and climbed until finally stopping at the town of Groveland. There was a coffee shop and a restroom, so we relaxed a moment and asked the young barista of the road conditions. I don’t know if it’s open all the way, she shared, but this town was underwater a couple of days ago. Okay. Mind you, we did listen to the AM radio and station 1610 for road updates and they said nothing of anything we had already ran into, so we didn’t go there again. Around and around the foothills and finally the park entrance. The road was open! Actually, we never deviated from our laughter, our gathering of scenery memories, or our confidence that all would be okay. The energy was positive and proved correct. Into Yosemite, a first for both of us. Fire scared terrain was the theme from fires in 1990 and again in 2009 but through the clearings we had great shots of snow-capped mountains and suddenly we were driving among the snow drifts and towering redwoods. Mountains of snow along the road, and glimpses of the 
famous Half Dome, El Capitan, and Bridalveil Falls did not disappoint. Through Wawona and the south entrance and into Fish Camp we found our lodge cabin surrounded by more towering redwoods. We moved the table in front of the fireplace, broke out the cribbage board and stirred a martini. Life was good. Life is about detours and being confident of uncharted pathways.
Detour
March 27, 2018
stewert james
The Author
An author with a story. Living in a quiet Northern Michigan community, nestled into a serene Lake Michigan bay, James writes to the rhythms of current events mixed with romanticism and experience that can only be found by living the same adventures. Whether it’s a provocative story line or blog, this website will certainly take you beyond the keyboard.
Nice writing! You put me right there in the car with you, and I enjoyed the ride.