The American Road Trip Part 2

This post is part 2 of my series recounting a time when travel was allowed. Find the first part here .

We drove for hours along the unnaturally straight arteries of the Nevada desert, through Death Valley, eventually bringing us to June Lake. It was there where we would be lodging for the six days we were to be in Yosemite National Park. Of course, what we didn't realise when we were planning the trip months before was that June Lake wasn't actually in Yosemite Valley...

After going for a brief walk down by the lake, we grabbed a few beers in town before calling it an evening. The morning brought with it sunshine and heat. We rose early trying to make the most of the day. We jumped in the Mustang and drove up Tioga Pass to enter the national park from the East Side. 

It took us 3 hours. 

Which with our anticipation at all-time highs this would have been unbearable. However, with Noir DJing and some of the most stunning scenery you could ask for the drive seemed to fly bye. You climb into the mountains ascending almost 7000 feet, winding your way through peaks, valleys, basins and, every now and again, if you are lucky, you get a beautiful clear water lake.

Arriving in Yosemite Valley, I was struck by multiple deja vus, constant memories of a place that both familiar and different (I had been initially to the national park when I was 14 on a family trip). We took a while to find parking but eventually stumbled across some at Curry Camp. Deciding we had taken too long to get sorted we decided against our original plan of a hike and instead chose to hire bikes to get around the valley floor. A friendly passerby suggested to go and look at some of the falls on the west side of the valley.

On the way, we stopped off at the visitors centre to grab some maps and hear some suggestions about which walks/hikes we should do the next day. Whilst talking to the park rangers we learnt about North Dome, the dome opposite Half Dome. Half Dome had loomed large, both above the valley, and at the forefront of my mind as a hiking challenge. However, with the time it would take to get to our lodgings and the start of the walk, the experience would be close to 24-hours long. Something that didn't quite gel with our desire to drink the night before.

We rode around the valley all afternoon, drinking in the sites and playing a meta-collectors game with the different waterfalls. As the shadows started to lengthen and the temperature drop, we made our way back to the centre of the valley to return the bikes. 

After we had returned the bike and made our way back to the car, we came across probably our most significant challenge of the entire trip... 

After we had slogged it back to the north end of the valley to get to the car, I decided that it was too hot to get in straight away, so therefore it would be a good idea to start the engine. I then turned on the air-conditioning to cool it down whilst we packed up everything in the back. Now, the car had two keys, but they were both locked together by a steel loop. Further, there was no requirement for the keys to be inserted in the car to make the car run. It sensed when they were present (something familiar in new cars now, but back then for us, in 2015, had been quite the quirky perk).

When I went to turn on the car and start the engine, I threw the keys into the middle console, where they ended up hanging out over the edge slightly. One key in the cup holder and the other dangling to the right. I thought nothing of it at the time and ultimately didn't realise that they had landed in such a way that the lock button had been pressed, locking the car doors...

Getting back out of the car, I shut my door and Noir had shut his; only the boot was open. We proceeded none the wiser, loading everything into the back, taking off our boots and stowing our rucksacks. 

What we came to realise about 30 seconds later when we tried to get into the car again was that the doors were locked. 

Eh Sam, did you lock the doors? 

No, why?

I can't get in.

What?

I can't get in. The doors are locked. 

The trunk was open, but the doors were locked. We could not get into the car. A car that was running, burning through precious fuel that we needed to be able to get back to the lodge.

We couldn't get in. We didn't have the keys. They were sitting pretty on the console.

There was a lot of cursing, a lot, a lot.

But time and money were literally being burnt in front of us. How could we get the keys out? How do we open the car? 

Is there anything we can do or will we have to call a specialist to open it? I take out my phone, suddenly remembering that in Yosemite, T-Mobile has no coverage, at all. That rules out making any phone calls.

Could we crawl through into the car through the boot? Nope, the seats wouldn't collapse.

Noire mimes throwing a brick at the window... Brick? Window? Not yet, there must be something else. 

A quick brainstorming session leads me to grab my penknife from my bag, a very lucky last-minute grab from the table that morning and sawing off a nearby tree branch. Using the knife, I strip it of all the sub-branches and leaves, leaving the main stem. It is about 9 feet long in total, going from about an inch in thickness to less than half a centimetre.

The idea was simple; we had to try and hook the keys, the steel loop holding the two of them together providing the perfect target, with the branch and drag them back through the car to the back seat. 

When trying to crawl through the back of the trunk, we had discovered that you could put an arm through the back seats, slipping between the leather. We were lucky there was no backboard.

So this is how it worked...

Whilst one of us threaded the branch carefully through the car back seats into the compartment, blind and sweating, bent double in the rear of the car, the other stood hands cupped to their face staring through the passenger window watching and shouting instructions.

Further, left. Up. Twist a bit—no the other way.

And so it was for about 30 minutes, getting relatively close but never close enough. It was hot, and our patience was wearing thin.

A couple who were in a large truck next to us had been watching for the last few minutes before the wife asked us what exactly we were doing. After explaining the problem to them, they had little hope in our plan and again suggested smashing a window and blaming it on "thief's". Having someone else suggest it made us pause to consider it... for only a second before we realised we, of course, hadn't purchased fully comprehensive insurance. It would be an expensive option. Their next suggestion was going to see if the bike rental store knew anyone that could help, or at least let us use their phone to call someone that could help.

Just before they left, wishing us good luck as they pulled out and drove off, the husband gave us what turned out to be our saving grace. A hook on some elastic, the sort you'd use to attach panniers to your bike and some masking tape. We thanked him profusely. 

Taping the hook to the end of the stick we had a new burst of hope.

Fifteen minutes later, with my head buried in the boot, I hear a shout from Noire. "STOP!" I stop immediately, calling back, "Yes!? What?". It turns out I was perfectly inline to put the hook through the steel loop. He tells me to twist the branch, slowly. I obey moving it a few millimetres at a time. Again a shout to stop brings me to a sudden halt. I'm sweating more than I thought possible at this point, from the heat of the valley floor, the temperature and strain of being half in and out of the boot and the question of whether we were ever going to make it home.

He tells me to start dragging the branch backwards slowly. Ever so slowly, moving them along the inside of the car. 

One foot. Two feet. Three feet. Four feet. Five feet. 

Now the tricky part, the seat edge, I tilt the branch as much as I dare, trying to angle it up, so it doesn't bump over the back. A dull thud greats my ears, muffled by the seat in front of me. Noire comes round, moving me out of the way, he reaches into the back, through the tiny gap and grabs the keys.

We jumped around and celebrated like idiots for a good 5 minutes, causing the family behind us, who we hadn't know but had been spectating for a good 15 minutes to laugh, clap and cheer at us! "Well done" they congratulated.

It was an upbeat drive back to June lake, even though it took us 3 hours. We were just happy we hadn't had to break the window or be stuck waiting around for hours as night fell for a mechanic.

That was our third day in the states.