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them and into their abandoned seats, eager to change into
drier clothes.

Riders might be on the way to photograph Glacier
Point or simply on the way to one of the grocery stores to
pick up some granola for breakfast. It was on one such
grocery run that I met Todd, a drunken, middle-aged
man with a lazy eye who attempted to steal the Sun Chips
from my grocery bag. After finding out where I was from,
Todd informed me that I was quite lucky to be in
Yosemite because he'd been to Maryland once and all the
Inner Harbor had to offer was a dry sandwich. Todd told
me to never have kids because then I could spend all that
money on myself and go to Yosemite three times like he
had.

When his stop came, he was led by the arm off the bus
by his sober and embarrassed boyfriend. On the stairs,
Todd turned all the way around and yelled to me,
"Remember! Maryland: a dry sandwich! Find me on
Facebook!"

An older man squeezed by him and took the seat he
emptied. He stared out the window with pursed lips, snow
shoes in hand, meditative and absorbed in thought.

The view surrounding Yosemite Valley has the power
to draw even the most lighthearted of visitors into a state
of reflection. John Muir was one of the first to detail the
beauty and haunting power of the mountains. Much like
my class, he made his first visit to Yosemite by travelling
north from San Francisco in 1868. After a weeklong visit,
he returned for a season to work as a shepherd, and
eventually built his own permanent residence near the
Yosemite River. The cabin featured an open section where
the river tumbled through so that Muir could constantly
enjoy the trickling sound of running water.

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