Stillness Reigns as U.S. Closes Yosemite

After hiking for 17 hours Sunday, to the top of Half Dome and back, there was no way Ed Jacoby would clear out of Yosemite Valley just because of a political snafu.

“Why should we suffer because the Democrats and Republicans can’t agree on the budget?” Jacoby asked Monday morning, packing his tent after a peaceful night with buddies in a nearly deserted Yosemite Valley.

By ignoring the closure of Yosemite campgrounds, Jacoby--a Navy pilot on exercises at Fallon Naval Air Station in Nevada--enjoyed a rare treat. His first visit to Yosemite was free of the noise and distraction of 6,000 other campers.

“We didn’t want to be seen so we sneaked in at about 10:30 and set up our tents by moonlight,” Jacoby said. “I expected a zoo, and here we are by ourselves.”

Other campers had left Sunday afternoon when rangers informed them that the federal government was shutting down non-essential services because of the budget stalemate in Washington.

By Sunday night, the park’s dozen campgrounds were virtually vacant. Hotels and motels run by concessioners remained open, but where children had played and hamburgers had sizzled on camp stoves, Monday there was just the singing of birds and the wash of wind through trees.

All park entrances and restrooms remained locked.

Ranger Fred Eschlepp said, however, that the park could reopen quickly--within 24 hours--after a budget accord is reached.

Rick Tyler, a Naval intelligence officer at Fallon, said he knew that all campers were supposed to vacate. But after a grueling day of hiking to the top of Yosemite’s premier landmark, he was not about to give up a quiet night under a full moon because of federal budget problems.

“I don’t care,” Tyler said. “I have a bad attitude about Congress.”

Across the valley, Barbara and Jim Bohn also spent the night, but they were legal. They are volunteer hosts in Upper Pines campgrounds.

In return for collecting tickets and watching over things, they get to stay in their campsite most of the year.

After a busy summer of tourists’ questions and problems--itself interrupted for a week when the valley was closed by wildfires--the Bohns found the peace unnerving.

“My husband said this morning he couldn’t sleep,” Barbara Bohn said. “It was too quiet.”

At the Lower River campground, hosts Jim and Vaunita Meehan also found the experience strange.

“It was kind of scary to look out there and not see any lights or campfires,” said Vaunita. “It’s also sad and makes you a bit angry--there could be people out there enjoying it.”