This is the second part of a two-part trip report from this month's visit to Yosemite National Park.

Hetch Hetchy

Saturday morning, after a quick breakfast from Degnan's (Deg muffins!), we drove for an hour to the Hetch Hetchy region of Yosemite. It was my first time visiting this part of the park and I was eager to explore.

We parked at the end of Hetch Hetchy road, which terminates in a loop bordering the O'Shaugnessy Dam -- a giant wall of concrete holding in a massive body of water. Halfway down the dam face, a spectacular stream of water plunged into the Poopenaut Valley¹ and Tuolumne River below. It was a sight to behold.

We crossed the dam and entered a tunnel, which seemed cool for the first hundred feet until it became so dark, I couldn't see where I was stepping. But as everyone knows, when one sense is hampered, the other senses compensate. With my loss of sight came enhanced hearing, and my ears quickly told me where I was stepping: in giant water puddles. A few hundred feet later, I emerged from the tunnel, wet boots and all.

Waterfalls

Two-and-a-half-miles later, we were at Wapama Falls. It was an easy, yet stressful hike. The trail had only a slight incline and required little effort to travel, which is why so many people were traveling it. It felt more like a pilgrimage than a hike -- not as bad as the herd of people that shuffle to Yosemite Falls or Vernal Falls, but bad enough to be annoying.

Wapama Falls was powerful and beautiful. The water thundered down, crashed on the rocks, and soaked everybody crossing the wood-planked bridges near its base.

At this point, M, whose leg had been bothering her again, returned to the car while I continued towards Rancheria Falls, 3.75 miles beyond Wapama. Since most people seemed satisfied to end their visit at the first waterfall, this length of trail was empty.

After ten minutes of brisk walking, I encountered six hikers halted in the middle of the trail, looking at something through the trees, towards the reservoir.

"Bear," said one of the hikers.

I peered through the branches and leaves and barely made out something furry and bear-shaped huddled near a tree trunk.

"It's best we stick together," said another of the hikers. Since this was my first bear spotting, this sounded like a good idea. I waited for somebody to take the first step, but everybody seemed paralyzed, so I took the lead, trying to slow my pace so the others wouldn't fall too far behind.

This worked for five minutes. Every minute after that, the others began to drift further behind. Fifteen minutes later, nobody was behind me. I dawdled -- stopping to drink water, eat snacks, check my bootlaces, photograph the reservoir, but it did no good. The others were gone.

On a day with better weather, I might have waited for them, but the skies were gray and growing grayer, and I wasn't keen on hiking in the rain, so after checking my bootlaces for the sixth time, I decided to keep going.

I soon came upon the wide cascades of Rancheria Falls.

I was looking for a way to get closer to the waterfall when it began drizzling. I took this as a sign to start my return hike.

Half a mile from Rancheria, I encountered the hikers who had mysteriously disappeared.

"We were worried about you," said yet another of the hikers. Before I could speak, they were already around the bend, which leads me to believe they weren't as worried about me as they claimed to be.

On the way back to the valley, M and I stopped by the Evergreen Lodge for a bathroom break and some coffee. As we were leaving, the light rain became a heavy downpour, making the drive back pure misery.

Helicopters

Safely back at Housekeeping Camp, we showered and had our Mountain House meals for dinner (re-hydrated gourmet!). The sound of raindrops on our canvas roof soon let up, but was quickly replaced by the sound of spinning propellers. For the next few hours, it seemed as though there was a helicopter constantly in the air.

On our way over to Yosemite Village, we stopped by the Ahwahnee Meadow to photograph Half Dome.

That's when we saw the helicopter and Yosemite Search & Rescue on the edge of the meadow. We didn't know what was going on at the time, but when we got home, we learned that what we had seen was the rescue operation for the hikers stranded on Half Dome after a man had slipped from the cables and fallen to his death earlier that afternoon.

A Good Night

We ended the day on a high note at Degnan's Loft, where we met up with Theresa and Tom, whom I met on Twitter (@simplytheresa and @tomagain, respectively), and who live in and work in/from Yosemite. I dread calling it a tweet-up, so I won't. Instead, I'll just say it was a blast meeting them in person and hanging out that evening.

A Mosquito

The next morning, after another quick Deg muffin breakfast, we made our usual stop at the Ahwahnee, where I managed to get my first and last mosquito bite of the trip. The mosquito, by the way, immediately spit out my blood when it discovered I wasn't a registered guest at the four-star hotel.

After dragging our feet for as long as we could, we reluctantly left the park for home.

You can see more photos from the trip on Flickr.

¹ Yes, I snicker every time I say or type Poopenaut Valley because I have the maturity of an eight-year-old (an eight-year-old who uses footnotes and parentheses).