A few weeks ago, the Kid and I grabbed a chance to go to Yosemite for a weekend trip. The afternoon we arrived, we drove over to Mono Lake and hiked from a trailhead by Black Point. No marked trail. We got to bushwhack (and the bushes whacked back).
We had a goal. One of our friends remembered finding fissures up here on her last visit. We found them again, and the adventure of looking for something, no trail, made for a very happy Kid. The Kid and friend were buzzed by a snow owl (“in summer!” said the Kid in amazement) cruising over them in a different fissure.
We ran down the black sand side of Black Point, switchbacking all the way. Looking back:
“Better than LegoLand!” said the Kid.
(We were sorely disappointed the next day. The Kid was sick, so he and I stayed in the cabin all day before driving back home.)