#tioga road

[hrsnowden]

Glacier Polish and Erratics - Tioga Road - Yosemite NP

Harry Snowden

#photographers on tumblr #pnw #film photography #analog photography #nikon fe #35mm #film #harry snowden #yosemite #tioga road

[rabbitcruiser]

Yosemite National Park, CA (No. 5)

The word Yosemite (derived from yohhe'meti, "they are killers" in Miwok) historically referred to the name that the Miwok gave to the Ahwahneechee People, the resident indigenous tribe.[16][17][18] Previously, the region had been called "Ahwahnee" ("big mouth") by its only indigenous inhabitants, the Ahwahneechee.[16] The term Yosemite in Miwok is easily confused with a similar term for "grizzly bear", and is still a common misconception.

In 1855, entrepreneur James Mason Hutchings, artist Thomas Ayres and two others were the first tourists to visit. Hutchings and Ayres were responsible for much of Yosemite's earliest publicity, writing articles and special issues about the valley. Ayres' style was detailed with exaggerated angularity. His works and written accounts were distributed nationally, and an exhibition of his drawings was held in New York City. Hutchings' publicity efforts between 1855 and 1860 increased tourism to Yosemite. Natives supported the growing tourism industry by working as laborers or maids. Later, they performed dances for tourists, acted as guides, and sold handcrafted goods, notably woven baskets. The Indian village and its peoples fascinated visitors, especially James Hutchings who advocated for Yosemite tourism. He and others considered the indigenous presence to be one of Yosemite's greatest attractions.

Source: Wikipedia

#Tioga Road #Yosemite National Park #Sierra Nevada #Mono County #geology #flora #California #summer 2022 #tourist attraction #landmark #landscape #countryside #USA #nature #forest #woods #fir #pine #rocks #travel #original photography #vacation #creek #Lembert Dome #granite #Mount Althuski #Unicorn Summit #Cathedral Peak #California State Route 120

[autotrails]

American Auto Trail-Susquehanna Trail (Sebring to Lambs Creek PA)

American Auto Trail-Susquehanna Trail (Sebring to Lambs Creek PA) https://youtu.be/G5Wl7eyWba8 This American auto trail explores north central Pennsylvania along the old route of the Susquehanna Trail, from Sebring to Mansfield and Lambs Creek.

View On WordPress

#4K #american history #Auto trail #Blossburg #Covington #driving video #Lambs Creek #Mansfield #pennsylvania #road travel #sebring #slow travel #Susquehanna #Tioga

[vintagecamping]

Clearing the roads on Tioga Pass for winter visitors. Yosemite National Park California

1955

#vintage camping #campfire light #yosemite national park #california #classic cars #tioga pass #winter camping #50s

[feverinfeveroutfic]

”pebble beach”

The escarpment of the Sierra Nevada Mountains hung within my sidelong view as we made our way along the watershed towards Mono Lake. It had been forever and a day since I had come up this way, especially whenever I came up to Yosemite with my parents and my brother, it was on the other side of the valley coming in from the Central Valley. I leaned back in the faded leather backseat with one arm up on the top, and I let my curls dangle down over my shoulder like one of the waterfalls over in the other valley. Eric and Lou were huddled down in the front seats as if they were a couple of bobsleigh pilots, even though it was a beautiful day there in the eastern Sierras.

“Have you even been on this road before?” Lou asked him at one point.

“What, Tioga Road?” Eric replied. “Yeah, a couple of times before. It’s a a rare occurrence, though, because it’s closed ten months out of the year.”

I hadn’t been on there since I was a kid, and back then, from what I recalled, things were pushing it. The middle of June and there were still pockets of snow around the cliffs, and Sonora was still closed to top it off as well.

All I told Lou was to not look down once we neared the peak of the pass. And it made better sense to me to be behind Eric all the way up. I was so relieved to be in that car with them, although I knew I would have to go back with Chuck as well as Joey

It was the middle of the day, with the sun beating down on my head and shoulders, and yet I could feel the cold of the mountains right before us like this gigantic wall of iron.

The highway wound down to a tight bend and we found ourselves in the small town of Lee Vining, complete with a view of Mono Lake: all I recalled of that lake was Mark Twain had written about it and I had no desire to head on down to the shoreline after that.

Eric took to the next left turn and we were headed up Tioga Road. Those cold mountains stared down at us as if we were facing some kind of gods who were about to judge us; the brick lodge right after the turn-off felt like the last bit of comfort for a while.

The trees were thick and lush, and the hills guided us up along that road as if we were ascending into the sky above. I swore that I was the one climbing and not Eric, and it was times like that I wished that I was better at photography. We were passing by the Ansel Adams Wilderness in all its rugged glory: how I wished to look beyond the high spires of peaks and down into the glassy lake and that vast valley as well. Everything about that initial stint of the road only made me want to explore more.

Explore more, and of myself as well.

We made our way upwards, and all I could think about was what we could do once we got into Yosemite. All I knew was those three boys who called themselves Green Day were supposed to meet us there at the campground for the next week. I hoped that I wouldn’t have to sleep in the same tent with Chuck because I was enjoying the sun on my face and the views before me. Everything was so rugged and rough as if it had been left untouched this whole entire time.

I gazed out to the drop below the other side of the railing and I spotted the glassy lake at the very bottom. Even with the royalty in place and with the ring on my finger, I vowed to always be as soft as that water. As soft and tender as that glassy water.

My ears popped and Chuck from Florida burst into my mind. I wished he was there in the backseat with me and we could relish in the view together. Indeed, I peered over to the seat next to me and I pictured him there, those thick lush curls sprawled around his shoulders as if he had dunked his head into those lake waters down below and let the cool mountain air dry him off. Those eyes, as blue as the granite walls that surrounded us as we continued to ascend into the heavens.

I really believed that we were headed straight for another world, one that chilled down with each passing mile. Lou peered out the window to the cliffs on the other side of the road: I saw him visually swallow, and I knew that we must have been high up.

I shivered at the sight of everything outside of the car; Lou breathed on the window and made a peace sign in the condensation.

“Jesus,” Eric muttered as he switched on the heater. Our sweatshirts were packed in the trunk given it was warm down in the valley before we left, and yet something told me that I was going to be cuddled down in the safety of my own for the entire trip. I hunkered down in the seat: how I wished to be held close in a warm blanket right then.

The road kept going up into the mountains, and something ran through my mind that told me we were about to drive off the edge of the road at any given moment.

Now I understood as to why the pass was closed out of most of the year.

I peered out the window to the view down below us, the final glimpse out to the valley before we ducked away into the mountains themselves, the last glimpse back to that glassy oasis down below and the final moment of paradise before we persisted into the craggy mountains before us.

I rubbed my upper arms with my hands. If nothing else, I hoped that Eric would have a horse blanket there in the backseat, not just for myself but for him and Lou, too, and the three of us could huddle down together.

Eric himself glimpsed into the rear-view mirror for a look at me.

“You warm enough back there, Alex?” he called back to me.

“I have got this persistent chill up my spine right now,” I told him.

“Yeah, we do, too. I hope we level out here soon—”

We rounded a bend and beheld the view of the vast canyon, still capped with snow from the blizzards of the winter before. The trees decorated the landscape as if they were made of chocolate and powdered sugar; on my side of the road was a steep drop into the abyss. My head spun and my ears popped; I turned my attention to Eric right as he rubbed his temple with one hand.

We passed a sign that read eleven thousand feet, and I could feel my fingers and toes tingling. Lou ran his fingers through his hair and breathed a bit harder than usual. I peered out the window to the towering peak on the right side of the road.

The road peaked at a crest and then dipped down a bit: I spotted what appeared to be a toll booth for the entrance fee into Yosemite up ahead, complete with three other cars in line there. I was just eager to be on the other side of the pass down in the valley again. We must have reached the top at some point if we hadn’t already. The mountain peaks surrounded us like a series of meringue peaks: for a moment, I believed that we had entered the land of all things sweet and decadent.

When we reached the booth, I took off my sunglasses and rubbed my eyes.

“Ninety-nine hundred feet, just shy of the century-century mark,” Lou remarked. “And I swore we were there just a few minutes ago.”

“I feel it,” Eric told him as he continuously massaged his temple.

“Yeah, I do, too,” I added; my head would not stop spinning. “Helps that we’re basically coming up from sea level.” All I wanted to do was lay down and cuddle, and it didn’t help matters that the line seemed to inch along the pavement. I leaned forward and rested my elbows on either top of the seat before me; Eric leaned over the rim of the steering wheel and kept his fingers on his temple. He peered over his sunglasses at me.

“I can’t remember the last time I had vertigo like this,” I confessed.

“My head is just pounding,” he told me.

“You know, I’ve heard Viagra helps with altitude sickness,” Lou informed us, who looked to be the only one not affected by it, but his skin had washed out to the same color as a sheet. He let out a low whistle, and he turned his attention back to the road before us.

“I’ve heard that, too,” I said with a few quick breaths. “Let’s ask the ranger about it.”

We inched ahead and Eric rolled down the window: the cold swept over us, and all I wanted was my sweater and a blanket. I held still as I tried to not think about my head spinning. The first thing I would do, once we reached the valley floor, was find something to eat and then feel the spray from the waterfall on my face.

We inched ahead to the toll booth where we were greeted by the ranger, an older gentleman with these big black leather gloves much like the ones Lou wore sometimes for his drumming.

“Do you have anything for altitude sickness?” Eric asked him as he paid the fee; it was right then I noticed he sounded more out of breath than usual. “All three of us aren’t doing too well.”

“Uh, yeah! I’ve got some pain pills in here with me, and things to help with blood pressure. I’ll suggest drinking more water and eating more, too, especially if you’re going to come back this way or hang around the mountain peaks here for a while.”

“Can do,” I said with a shake of my head, and my head spun even more.

“Keep the window rolled up until you reach the valley floor, too,” he advised us. “Staying warm will keep your blood flowing. But if you boys are desperate—” And he turned back into the booth for something.

“Yeah, I worry especially because I’m driving,” Eric told him, and the man handed him a small bottle of aspirin and a little white box, and I could already see those little blue pills inside.

“You fellas be safe up here for us all, okay?”

“Always,” Lou assured him.

“Yeah, thank you,” I called out to him.

“Thank you so much,” Eric added as he held the bottle and the box in his lap: he darted ahead to the first bend in the road just so we could take our medicine.

“Alex, you got any water?” he asked me as he rolled up the window; almost immediately, it warmed up again in there.

“Plenty.”

Eric opened the box for us, although I had a feeling that the pain pills would help us just as easy. But the next thing I knew, I was taking a blue pill. Eric and Lou did as well.

We drank our water down, and then Eric ran his fingers through his jet-black hair.

“Okay, where’s our campground at?” he asked us.

“It’s coming up here, isn’t it?” Lou recalled, still out of breath.

“I wrote it down…” Eric reached over to the glove box for something, and I peered back into the very back of the car for anything to keep myself warm.

“Yeah, Tuolomne Meadows,” he informed us. “I think it’s coming up here in a few minutes.” He closed the door, and I caught the sound of hesitation up there in the front seat. “What’re you looking for, brother?”

“Me?” I asked him as I turned back around, and my head spun some more. “Do you have a blanket in here or something?”

“In the trunk, yeah. Would you like it?”

“Please. I am just freezing back here.”

Eric kindly picked out the big heavy horse blanket for me, to which I wrapped it around my body once we got moving again. The spinning in my head persisted a bit as we made our way along the road more towards the meadow in question. The trees were so thick and lush, and most of them still blanketed with snow. I spotted the hulking silhouette of Half Dome off in the distance, and I knew that once we got down into the valley floor, our heads wouldn’t be hammering so much.

I thought about what the ranger had told us in that we had to eat more to keep the feeling of the altitude in check. Indeed, I was feeling hungry as the road dipped down and gently meandered with the coldest-looking river I had ever seen in my life. In fact, something told me that I could eat enough for three people right then.

I wanted to eat once we reached our campsite, and I hoped that those three boys had beat us to the punchline there because it was all I could think about. I had no idea if it was the altitude or not but for a moment, I believed I was seeing things. The fact the mountains resembled to meringue, the chocolate look of the trees, the fact that I was hungry… this was a far more potent high than any joint that I had ever touched in seventh grade.

The trees thinned out and we were met with the vast meadow in question, with the thick, lush grass interspersed with such cold, glassy waters. The sun shone down on us without a cloud to obscure anything: even with it being cold, the sunshine made everything so bright and crystal clear.

Billie Joe, Mike, and Tré had already checked into their reservation and pitched a tent for themselves at a spot, one nestled between the trees and near a small waterfall. I peered behind us to the towering mountain which bestowed the waterfall: my head proceeded to spin once again, but at least I had something to balance me.

The spray from the waterfall touched me on the side of the face: it made me think of all the heat waves over the Bay Area as a kid, and I would stand in front of a swamp cooler; this was the damp feeling of that on steroids.

The smell of pine surrounded the three of us like a veil, and I tilted my head back to feel the afternoon sun and the spray of the falls on my face. All I knew was we had to return to camp soon enough to put up our tents and then eat a bunch of food to keep the sickness away, that is if we saw those three boys up at the top of the waterfall.

And then I realized we had taken Viagra once we had entered the park.

“Alex?” Eric breathed right into my ear over the noise of the waterfall. I turned to face him and the hooded look to his eyes. I really believed that I was hallucinating right then, hallucinating from the hunger, the altitude, and the rush of blood straight to my head.

“You wanna take a walk with me?” he offered me. “Take a walk and look for something to eat?”

“Isn’t there a pie stand or two right on the other side of the trees here?” I asked him.

“There’s a pie stand and a market,” he added as he nudged a lock of hair behind my ear. “We’ll come back and surprise those three dudes with all the goods we’ve picked up.”

“Let’s get two blackberry, two pecan, two apple, three cherry, three blueberry, a chocolate, a lemon, and a peach,” I suggested. “I dunno about you but I could literally eat a pie and a cake right now.”

“A pie and a cake, and you wouldn’t be able to fit into the sleeping bag,” he quipped as he ran his hand down my belly. I peered up to the scraggly dogwood trees and pearly white birches that surrounded us: I had no memory of how we got there to that particular spot in the trees, right by the river and the waterfall, but he was touching me, and he was coming close to me, and I was leaning my back to the birch behind me.

“Eric… are you feeling what I’m feeling right now?” I asked him with a rubbing of my forehead with my temples. It reminded me of the times I would get high and I had the strangest euphoria every time the paper hit my tongue.

“Headache and vertigo from being so high up and intense hunger from that and the fact we haven’t eaten since we left this morning? You bet your booty that’s what it is.”

“No, I mean… the fact the ranger gave us Viagra for the altitude.”

He showed me his tongue before he crammed it into my mouth.

We were hallucinating and horny, and I had no idea about him but I had no restraint whatsoever. I put my arms up over my head as he reached down my pants to feel me. I could feel that I was already hard, harder than I had ever been, as hard as the cold stony mountains all around us.

“Eric—” I gasped from the feeling. “Eric—what if they hear us?”

“They won’t hear us,” he assured me with a breath of a whisper right into my ear. “They won’t hear us here down by the waterfall.”

“What if they see us?” I choked out again.

“We’re way down here, and they’re way up there,” he assured me again, that time with a grasp onto my fat one. He held onto me for a brief moment before he rubbed up against me. He was as big as I had ever felt before, and I had nothing to hold me back, either.

We were doing it outside, and I had not a care in the world about it. We were doing it outside, and I could feel everything. I could feel everything even with my head lost in the realm of the altitude. We were going to have a bunch of pie and curl up under the blanket and the sleeping bag afterwards, but we had the blue pills to take care of at first. Blue pills like little pebbles that led us to that nook in the trees.

I ran my fingers through his black hair, and I treated him to a tongue lashing and a groan right into his ear. His lips on my neck. His tongue in my ear. Our flesh against itself. One of us was going to come first.

The spray from the waterfall and the veil of the birches protected us from any onlookers. I leaned my head back against the tree trunk again as he sank in deep, as deep as he could go with me. I realized he was getting me right in the prostate as well as grinding up against me.

I parted my lips and let out a low moan, one that buried itself under the roar of the waterfall. Those three boys were going to be in for a treat of sorts should they descend from the towers behind us. But Eric twirled his fingers around the locks of hair at the back of my head and slithered his tongue into my mouth to finish the job.

“Let’s get down to it again when we get the tent set up,” I whispered into his ear right then.

“You got it, big boy,” Eric whispered to me; he reached down and touched me again, and he showed me a little smirk. “You wanna get down with Lou, too?”

“May as well,” I said in a broken voice. “You’re still hard as stone, too.”

#kinktober #kink tumblr #kink tag #kinktober list #kinktober prompts #kinktober 2024 #kinktober all year #fanfic #fanfiction #testament #testament fanfic #testament band #like blood from a stone fanfic #like blood from a stone #alex skolnick #eric peterson #louie clemente #smut #smut writing #smut warning #writing #text #also on ao3

[inkymink]

Cold morning in Yosemite: Tioga Pass Road toward Mount Hoffman. Yosemite National Park, California. 11 Nov 2018.

#inkymink photo #tioga pass #mount hoffman #yosemite

[vancouverislandtotoronto2023]

Day 8, Sat June 3, Lodi to Pleasanton to Yosemite/Carson Pass to Mammoth Lakes 566 km

Started my day with an espresso at Don + Ginny's in Lodi, then took back roads (12 + 160) to Rio Vista and Pleasanton to visit Mike and Lou. For much of the route, I thought I was back home in the Niagara Fruit Belt as I was surrounded by cherries, grapes, strawberries, and nectarines.

Mke had ordered me a quad lock for my new phone, so I was able to hook it back up to the bike. Separation anxiety problem solved.

Mike and Lou also helped me plot a route through Yosemite. Tioga (120) was closed, and Sonora (108) was closed, so I had to head north all the way to Carson Pass (88/89) to get through. As you climb to 8,000 ft., the cherry and walnut trees hidden behind oleander hedges fall away and are replaced by ranches, snow lined roads and snow capped mountains and beautiful mountain rivers, and lakes. On the way, I passed Lake Tahoe as I headed to Mammoth Lakes, the ski town (elev 7,881 ft ) at the foot of Mammoth Ski Resort.

[out-of-control]

HOME

words: 936

warnings:

summary: Jim heads north.

Bitter gas station coffee. Black, three sugars. He puts the cup down in its nook, but it doesn't sit straight. He lifts it again, reaching in, and pulls out jangling metal. Two keys, neither of them his. Not anymore.

Turning them over between his fingers, he slips the ring holding the pair together over his index, and something cracks. His arms give away under the weight of the dam he's been shaking to hold up for the past 108 miles, and the tears come all at once. He fists both hands in his hair, slumping over the steering wheel.

This is the hardest drive Jim has ever taken.

—

I-280 heading west, over the Passaic river. Past the Cathedral Basilica of the Sacred Heart, and moving up, for what feels like an eternity, the city staring holes through him in the rearview as his shitty old car pushes itself hard enough for Jim to think he might just never make it out of this place. It finally slips out of view when he crests the hill, horizon opening up to present to what feels like the whole world to him. 

I-280 into I-80, Parsippany water tower, over the Delaware water gap- hugging the glittering river below the cliff the road traces. Through the toll, into Pennsylvania, 80 becoming 380 becoming 81 north, the aptly named Endless Mountains, moving onto New York. I-86. NY-17 west. He makes it to Owego before the sun beats him to the finish line. Exit 64. Deep Well Motel, 189 miles from Newark.

—

Jim lies there prone, in the foreign bed, staring blankly at the stucco ceiling for hours with his arms sprawled out at his sides. He can’t sleep. He knew he wouldn’t be able to. He’s exhausted, he’s broken, and he’s spent.

He wonders where he can score in a place like this. He wishes he had the foresight to bring something, whether to numb or send him up the wall or bring him someplace else entirely. He’d take anything from the long list of substances he’s subscribed to in a moment like this. He’s a drug addict lying on his back in an Owego motel room. He stands. He steps out the door.

—

Deep Well Motel to Tioga Cemetery, half a mile. Jim meanders through the headstones, reading every name, every date, calculating how long they had to try and figure it all out. 67 years. 71 years. 13 years. He wonders how many lives they each managed to live. Tioga Cemetery to Susquehanna river, three quarters of a mile, past the Sunrise Motel.

Standing there, staring over the black river, the breast pocket of his army-green jacket chirps at him over the white noise of the water. He doesn’t want to look at it, but he does anyway. Jim reaches in and fishes out his little black phone, flipping it open to look at the number. He stops breathing. His brain short circuits, blank except to take tally of every ring, counting how many second chances it sings at him. How many it taunts him with. Seventh chance. Eighth chance. He knows that he won’t get a tenth. Ninth chance. He answers.

The reception is poor, but he recognizes the voice, even through the slurred diction. “Baby, it’s me, I’m sorry.”

Jim’s lungs kick back in, taking an unsteady breath. His brain still hasn’t caught up, though. A weak “Hey,” is the best he manages.

The voice barely seems to register his response, almost immediately tumbling over itself to say something thick and indistinct. 

“Jax,” Jim says, feeling like every particle in his body is about to break its molecular bonds and go spinning off into space. “I can’t hear–”

“Come home,” the voice says, clearer but no less broken. “I love you, please come home. Please come home.” More indistinct noises that Jim now feels with sick certainty are the sounds of a man weeping over the phone.

Jim reflexively holds it out a few inches away from his ear, pressing the back of his other hand against his lips. He can’t help it, the tears he long thought he’d spent well up in his eyes one more time. Even muffled, Jim can hear Jax’s misery over the phone, and he knows that he did this. It’s always his fault with these things. And even in this state, even this far away, Jax has him figured out enough to know everything he does and doesn’t wanna hear at the same time. “I’m sorry,” he chokes out, bringing the phone back.

“Come home,” Jax whispers through a sob. It seems to be all he can say. “Just come home.”

Jim balls a fist in his shirt, against his chest. “Jax, I can’t-” he starts, and his voice cracks. He coughs it out, throat still raw from the crying fits that have plagued him since he told Jax he was leaving in the first place. “Jax I can’t come home because I fucking love you, okay?” he spits out, and instantly shuts the phone. He walks a small curve as he shakes his head and arms out, overtaken by the sudden release from the full-body tension that was strangling him, swallowing him whole. Back towards the water, he grips the cellphone tight until his knuckles turn white. Jim pivots on his heel, whipping his left arm towards the Susquehanna river with everything he has left, collapsing onto his hands and knees in the gravel from the follow-through. His head hangs, looking down at his curled palms pressed hard into the sharp little stones. His fingers stay clasped around the phone.

—

#words

[2022-504-aureliadebae]

Famous State Highways in California

For the development of my videos/GIFs, I thought it would be a good idea to look at the most famous roads within California. I thought this could be useful as I could use them to showcase Barlow's numbers within my animations.

Tioga Pass (State Route 120) - 74 miles from lee Vining to Yosemite valley.

Highway 395 - 557 miles from Victorville to the Nevada border, East of Tahoe.

Route 66 - 315 miles from Needles to Santa Monica. Has a lot of historical stops along the way

Interstate 15 (road to Vegas, Mimics apart of Route 66) - 315 miles from Needles to Santa Monica.

Highway 101 - 805 miles from Los Angeles to the Oregon border

Interstate 5 - 769 miles from Mexico to the Oregon border.

Highway 99 - 424 miles from I-5 near Bakersfield to Red Bluff.

These would be some good interstates and highways to include in my design as they are well-known and recognisable as apart of California's transit landscape.

#grad504 #barlow #state highways

[thorsenmark]

Memories of Autumn in the Sierra Nevada Mountains by Mark Stevens Via Flickr: While at a roadside pullout along Tioga Road with a view looking to the southwest to a nearby forest with trees starting to show Autumn colors. Composing the image was then a matter of finding a grouping of trees that worked a pattern across the mountainside. I later worked with control points in DxO PhotoLab 5 and then made some adjustments to bring out the contrast, saturation and brightness I wanted for the final image.

#Along Roadside #Azimuth 227 #California and Oregon Road Trip #Cloudy #Dana Area #Day 4 #DxO PhotoLab 5 Edited #Forest #Forest Landscape #Hillside of Trees #Landscape #Landscape - Scenery #Looking SW #Mostly Cloudy #Mountainside #Nature #Nikon D850 #No People #Off Side of Road #Outside #Overcast #Pacific Ranges #Project365 #Ridge #Ridgeline #Ridges #Ritter Range-East Yosemite #Roadside Pulloff #Rolling Hillsides #Scenics - Nature

[hrsnowden]

Tenaya Lake - Yosemite National Park - California

Harry Snowden

#photographers on tumblr #california #pnw #Sierra Nevada #yosemite #tioga road #alpine lakes #original photography #bw film #Yashica Mat 124G #6x6 #120mm

[rabbitcruiser]

Massive

What do you think about my pic?        

#Yosemite National Park #Olmsted Point #Sierra Nevada #mountains #USA #summer 2022 #landscape #countryside #Tioga Pass Road #Tenaya Lake #woods #forest #flora #original photography #California #travel #vacation #photo of the day #What do you think about my pic? #granite #tourist attraction #landmark

[brookstonalmanac]

Events 11.14 (before 1970)

332 BC – Alexander the Great is crowned pharaoh of Egypt. 1680 – German astronomer Gottfried Kirch discovers the Great Comet of 1680, the first comet to be discovered by telescope. 1770 – James Bruce discovers what he believes to be the source of the Nile. 1812 – Napoleonic Wars: At the Battle of Smoliani, French Marshals Victor and Oudinot are defeated by the Russians under General Peter Wittgenstein. 1851 – Moby-Dick, a novel by Herman Melville, is published in the USA. 1889 – Pioneering female journalist Nellie Bly (aka Elizabeth Cochrane) begins a successful attempt to travel around the world in less than 80 days. She completes the trip in 72 days. 1910 – Aviator Eugene Burton Ely performs the first takeoff from a ship in Hampton Roads, Virginia, taking off from a makeshift deck on the USS Birmingham in a Curtiss pusher. 1914 – The Joensuu City Hall, designed by Eliel Saarinen, was inaugurated in Joensuu, Finland. 1918 – The Provisional National Assembly of the new republic of Czechoslovakia meets to devise a constitution. 1920 – Pesäpallo, the Finnish version of baseball developed by Lauri Pihkala, is played for the first time at Kaisaniemi Park in Helsinki. 1921 – The Communist Party of Spain is founded, and issues the first edition of Mundo obrero. 1922 – The British Broadcasting Company begins radio service in the United Kingdom. 1938 – The Lions Gate Bridge, connecting Vancouver to the North Shore region, opens to traffic. 1940 – World War II: In England, Coventry is heavily bombed by German Luftwaffe bombers. Coventry Cathedral is almost completely destroyed. 1941 – World War II: The aircraft carrier HMS Ark Royal sinks due to torpedo damage from the German submarine U-81 sustained on November 13. 1941 – World War II: German troops, aided by local auxiliaries, murder nine thousand residents of the Słonim Ghetto in a single day. 1952 – The New Musical Express publishes the first regular UK Singles Chart. 1957 – The "Apalachin meeting" in rural Tioga County in upstate New York is raided by law enforcement; many high-level Mafia figures are arrested while trying to flee. 1960 – Ruby Bridges becomes the first black child to attend an all-white elementary school in Louisiana. 1965 – Vietnam War: The Battle of Ia Drang begins: The first major engagement between regular American and North Vietnamese forces. 1967 – The Congress of Colombia, in commemoration of the 150th anniversary of the death of Policarpa Salavarrieta, declares this day as "Day of the Colombian Woman". 1967 – American physicist Theodore Maiman is given a patent for his ruby laser systems, the world's first laser. 1969 – Apollo program: NASA launches Apollo 12, the second crewed mission to the surface of the Moon.

#Events

[susanhaley1111]

Yosemite to Newberry Springs, CA 380 miles

We decided to go the longer route going west for a bit than going via Tioga Pass, which is 10 ,000 ft. This was a good decision. The route only had a short patch of narrow road. California has signs asking slow traffic to pull over to let others pass. Great idea.

We got a late start as Dana found a screw in a truck tire. He found a tire shop, and they patched it for only $20. The shop looked very busy.

We left at 11:30 and got here at 8:30, in the pitch dark. A very nice young women still met us and got us settled. The park is right on I 40 but the noise does not bother us.

We saw Joshua trees along the road. We are near that park. We are not too far from Death Valley, and we are in the Mojave Desert. The temperature was 90 when we got here and is 76 this morning.

We are headed to Flagstaff today, which is 320 miles.

[dopescissorscashwagon]

Tioga road is OPEN!! Oh, I needed this. Happiness is above treeline. Today in Yosemite

By Beth Pratt 📸

#Beth Pratt #Yosemite #California #Amazing #Beautiful #Nature #Travel #USA #Adventure

[denverworksheet]

Tioga Road reopening in Yosemite's high country after extra-long snow closure

The beloved scenic roadway, which also serves as the national park's eastern entry point, will open Saturday after months of being smothered with snow and ice.

from California https://ift.tt/7WZqYhc