Shouldering the Pack

I crawled reluctantly out of my sleeping bag as the sun was just creeping over the granite domes of Yosemite National Park and checked my watch. "5:30 AM." I said out loud to myself as if I was waking someone else up. I know that the earlier I wake up in Yosemite the more mileage I can get in before I have to start fighting the 20,000 people coming up the trail that decided all at once to come see the beautiful sights of Yosemite. How could I blame them. The views are spectacular and you can get a huge juicy burger at the trail head concession stand after a long days hike. Who wouldn't want to hike in Yosemite.
It takes me a little longer to get packed up the earlier I wake up, but before long I shoulder my pack, grab my morning breakfast bar, and saunter stiffly down the trail picking up speed as my muscles loosen and warm up. After an hour of hiking I round the corner out of a beautiful meadow and the aroma of hashbrowns and eggs hits me like I just stepped into IHOP at the height of the morning rush. I also hear voices. Off to my right is Sunrise High Sierra Camp and they are rollin out the meal wagon for all the overnight day hikers who've forked over the green to be catered to in the backcountry. I walk up the granite cut steps to the camp and proceed to fill my waterbottle from the spigot while watching patagonia ladened Californians and Europeans sip their morning coffee that was brought in on mule back. I am slightly jealous that Juan Valdez didn't bring me my coffee this morning and I find myself devising a secret plan to steal some breakfast from these wealthy mountain goers by sneaking around the back and trying to look like I am a paying customer. My water bottle overfills onto my hand and I come back to reality as the ice cold liquid runs over my wrist. Are these people missing out on a whole different experience in the backcountry? I don't know, I couldn't really say because everyones comfort level differs. I chatted with a woman for a minute and learned that she enjoys the Sierras, just not the sleeping on the ground thing. Before I made any stupid moves to snag one of the luscious donuts that were sitting out, down the steps I went and back onto the trail.
Two hours later I was standing atop of Clouds Rest Peak. The view of Yosemite National Park was absolutely breathtaking. You could see almost all of the major mountains in the park. Coming down, as I got lower and lower the crowds grew thicker and I had bad thoughts remembering getting lost at Disneyland when I was 6. I raced down to Yosemite Valley on the paved trails and after a quick jump in the Merced River to cool off I got on the YART transit system down to Merced, CA. I'm pretty tired of hiking. After almost 400 miles it starts to not be super fun anymore. I've met a lot of people who are dead set on getting to Canada, but I realized that I can't make it at my current pace before the snow hits. Time for a new plan. See you in Oregon.