It rained every day since I had arrived. I had been hanging around Yosemite Valley for a week, not quite fitting in with the usual crowds of climbers and tourists. I’m a photographer and backpacker, seemingly ending up in the wrong place at the wrong time - the weather made for tricky shooting and even tougher trails. But I love the valley, and I couldn’t be dissuaded from sticking around, especially because there were rumors of snow in the forecast. If you’ve ever seen Yosemite in the snow, you’ll know why I stuck around.
The snow came, and quickly - the first night over a foot fell. The valley was quiet and muted. The light caught the fat flakes as they made their way down through the giant Ponderosa pines and piled up all around. The silence didn’t last long, and soon streams of cars made their way up the pass carrying everyone from around to get a glimpse of El Capitain dusted with snow. I decided this would be the perfect chance to get out into the backcountry and see how much snow I could track down.
I stopped by the ranger station to get permits and a bear canister then took off to the trailhead. Most of the lower elevation snow had melted by the time I set foot on the trail, but I caught up to it pretty quickly. I had gotten a late start and so I was also losing light too. But I pushed on, and soon I was walking thigh deep in the dry Sierra powder, I hadn’t even thought to bring snowshoes. The views opened up all around me as I got higher above the valley, and sights seldom seen with snow were all around me.
As the evening closed in, I tracked down my spot for the night. I hadn’t made it as far as I was hoping, so I settled for a spot tucked above the valley but back up in the trees. I stomped out a spot for my tent and set up camp then headed off to take a few photos. The light caught the snow and lit everything up golden, then pink as the sun went down over the valley. One of the best sunsets I’ve seen to this day. I heated up my dinner of chili and bread and enjoyed it’s warmth as I watched the last bit of color and light fade from the sky. I filled my Nalgene with hot water and tucked it into my Zenbivy for extra warmth, and then off to bed. I slept like a baby.
The morning brought more soft colors as the sun came up. And cold. It had dropped to around 15 degrees at my elevation. I pulled the boots out of my bag and put them on, and then made breakfast and coffee. I took my morning slowly then headed down into the valley.
About The Author: Mason Strehl is an avid outdoor adventurer and photographer based in Washington state. When he's not handling media here at Zenbivy, you can find him hiking in the backcountry, climbing peaks, or surfing. He has logged over 500 nights in a Zenbivy in almost every condition imaginable.
Whether you've been a long-time supporter of Zenbivy or you're new to the community, we appreciate you being here and joining our peaceful little rebellion against traditional outdoor gear. We’ve got several exciting new plans for 2023 and we figured it’s only fair we give you a little sneak peek at what’s to come...
We’re firm believers in comfort. However, we also understand that lightweight gear is essential for backpackers. So, our quilts are light… but they’re not the lightest. Here’s what makes our quilts slightly heavier than other backpacking quilts on the market, and why those features are not only intentional but worth the weight.
Traditional quilts typically have a strap system to keep the quilt on the mattress. These straps are not only constricting but also drafty, letting cold air in at the gaps between the attachment points when the straps inevitably twist and spin. The Fast Sheet easily solves these problems!