Workshop Canceled, Camera Packed:
The Fitness Zombie Chases Waterfalls in Yosemite Anyway
This week was supposed to be a victory lap—my reward for dragging this rotting corpse of a body back into semi-functional shape: a Yosemite Spring Waterfall Photography Workshop. Been dreaming of it for years. Last time I was in the valley? Twenty-one years ago. Rushed family trip. We missed more than we hit. This time, I was ready to shoot like a pro. Or at least lurch around pretending to.
Then the email hit. Workshop canceled. The instructor? Hospitalized. No guiding groups over slippery terrain with heavy lenses this week.
I looked at my wife. She looked at me.
“We’re going anyway,” she said.
Zombie growl of approval.
Planning with Brains (and ChatGPT)
There’s this photo—mist, granite, river reflections—you’ve probably seen it. I wanted to shoot that. But I had no clue where it was. Dropped the image into ChatGPT, and boom: Valley View, GPS coordinates, golden hour tips, trail info. Suddenly I’m building an itinerary, stitching together must-shoot spots and timing light like I actually know what I’m doing.
I packed every lens I own, charged every battery, and even set up the CamRanger 2 for slow-shutter field control. Cursed object, that thing. More on that later.
Prepared? Ha. I was undead and overprepared.
Day 1: Tunnel Vision and Cold Fries
We rolled in around noon, too early to check into the condo. So, straight to Tunnel View and Bridalveil Fall. Iconic. Cold. Moody. Beautiful. The kind of place that reminds you how small you are—and how heavy your camera bag is.
Dinner? Village Grill. My cheeseburger was about as warm as my hands—maybe colder. Wife’s Caesar salad had the structural integrity of cobwebs, and her garlic fries? Straight into the compost pile of broken dreams.
We bailed on Glacier Point for sunset. Thick, uninspired skies. Instead: music, warm socks, and gear sort. Zombie priorities.
Day 2: The Itinerary That Mostly Wasn’t
Alarm set for sunrise. Reality? Nope. Fog still hugging the valley like a clingy ghost. So we slow-rolled breakfast, made our way into the park, and tackled the list.
We hit everything except Bridalveil (already checked off) and Lower Yosemite Fall (noped out due to drizzle and low motivation). We had to loop the valley a few times—zombie navigation is a little wobbly—but we got there.
The moody weather? Honestly… epic. Clouds clawed their way around the cliffs, mist crept over the pines, and every shot felt like a scene from some apocalyptic fairytale. Chef’s kiss of the undead.
Valley View was the moment I’d been waiting for. Even if it wasn’t perfect, I lingered, soaking it in.
Found a quiet river bend for a silky slow-shutter shot. Pulled out the CamRanger 2. Fired it up. Nothing. Dead. Lifeless. Unresponsive. Like me before coffee. It powered up, but refused to connect to the camera. I spent 30 minutes troubleshooting before giving up. My growls scared off a squirrel.
Back to Valley View one last time before heading out. Fog thick enough to spoon. So we moved on. Glacier Point was first on our list for Day 3, but we figured we’d scout it out early—why not? We made it to within two miles of the top before the mountain said “nope.” Snow and hail came down so hard it looked like the world’s angriest snow globe. We turned around and headed back down before we needed chains and prayers.
Dinner? Well, let’s just say our lack of reservations caught up with us. Every decent spot was booked, and we weren’t about to drop apocalypse money on bad pasta. So it was back to the grocery store—grabbed a few supplies then retreated to the warmth of the condo for a zombie-cooked meal. Honestly? Not bad. Warm, quiet, and 100% reservation-free.
Day 3: Sunrise, Scenic Loops, and Fuel Tank Panic
Rolled out solo around 6 a.m.—my wife opted for a chill morning at the condo while I shuffled down to Yosemite Valley View, chasing that early glow. And let me tell you… it delivered. Clear skies, low golden sun, and the Merced flowing steady and strong. The light bounced off granite and water just right—no fog, no drama, just clean, honest beauty. I stayed longer than planned, because how do you walk away from a scene like that? Answer: you don’t. Not until your fingers remind you it’s still cold out.
Swung by Tunnel View on the way back for a few bonus frames. Yeah, it’s a classic postcard shot, but there’s a reason for that—it’s always got something to offer.
Back at the condo, we packed up. I’ve gotta say—Scenic Wonders did right by us. The kitchenette was modest but solid: stove, oven, fridge, microwave, coffee setup. We never even touched the TV, but the WiFi worked well enough to keep this zombie connected to the digital realm. No complaints.
After checkout, we made one last attempt at Glacier Point. Yesterday’s failed snow-hail run? Ancient history. Today? Blue skies, sun-kissed snow on the road edges, and just enough cloud for drama. It was crowded, but worth it. We wandered, we shot, we lingered.
On the way back to the mountain house, I tried to be good. I really did. But the sky was taunting me—blue with just a whisper of clouds. So yeah… we looped back to Valley View again. Couldn’t help myself. Totally worth it.
Mild panic when the fuel light came on and I couldn’t remember the last gas station. Thought I might end the trip with a long, shameful walk in hiking boots. But the anxiety was wasted—it all worked out fine.
Could I have used more sunrise and sunset light? Sure. But I’ll save that hunt for another season. Shorter days, longer shadows, and maybe—just maybe—a CamRanger that actually works.
Final-Final Thoughts
This trip wasn’t the workshop I planned. It didn’t give me perfect light or a flawless shot list. But it gave me something better:
- Time to create
- Time to move
- Time to remember why I started doing all this in the first place
It was also proof that the Fitness Zombie is more than just a metaphor. I hiked, squatted, climbed, and crept across granite and gravel, gear strapped to my back and a camera glued to my eye. I stayed fueled, stayed upright, and stayed out of the ER.
Still lurching. Still shooting.
Still stubborn.
Still moving.
I'm on a lifelong quest to find the perfect balance between strawberry smoothies and pizza slices. A self-proclaimed gym enthusiast who believes rest days are just as crucial as leg days—especially if they involve NASCAR racing. I lift weights, but only so I can justify my love for chocolate cake. When I'm not at the gym, you’ll find me riding dirt bikes or capturing the thrill of motorsport through my camera lens. Join me as I navigate the highs and lows of fitness, where progress is measured in reps, and cheat meals are a form of self-care.
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