At least the count is even

I went to Yosemite last year rather well schooled in the innate stupidity of homo turistus. I was pretty much brought up in the business and had at least collateral acquaintance with it for the first half of my life. It was, then, no surprise to learn that, as of late August last year, motorists had killed 13 or so bears that season. It was also no shock to see happy campers dodging past fences and "keep out" signs to dip in their overheated bodies into the 55 degree water of pools just a few yards upstream of waterfalls 100 or more feet high. That was at the end of a parching hot summer, even by Sierras standards, that had lowered flow rates and raised water temperatures throughout the valley. These show Vernal Falls from top and bottom at its most benign. (There were people swimming within 50 meters of the top of the fall.)
















Eleven months later, the Sierras haven't yet disgorged the snowmelt of one of the worst winters in a century. Skiing has slowed or stopped not so much due to lack of opportunity as sheer ennui: I have that from the offspring. She also reported that her group's attempt on Mount Whitney on Memorial Day was turned back by blizzard conditions, near-zero temperatures and a selection of routes that varied from near-vertical to vertical: something like Nordwand set in California.

All this means the waters of Yosemite are enthralling to look at this year, but at their malevolent best at disposing of h. turistus. Thus we hear today that this season's death toll due to Yosemite drownings has risen to six. It appears (surprise!) that tourist negligence was the chief factor in these deaths.

The news sent me to the Park's Web site for a tally of another sort. This year to July 9, motorists in Yosemite have killed six bears. There must be a sort of ursine schadenfreude in the notion that the score is now tied.

(Mr. Hobbes tweets to ask, "now who's the jackass?")