We arrived at the Inn at the Pinnacles late Thursday afternoon. Our plan was to use the Inn, which is on the west side of the park, as our base. We’d explore the east side on Friday, the west on Saturday. We’d get to see the High Peaks from both sides. By evening, ground fog filled the valley. No worries. The Inn was well above that blanket of soft, fluffy cotton.
Different views of the High Peaks
The following morning, we left our lofty perch and drove down into the valley. For most of the trip, we were in the fog. That changed as we climbed in elevation and by the time we were on the east side of Pinnacles National Park, the fog was long gone. The big surprise was yet to come.
Saturday morning dawned at the Inn, and we found ourselves in a thick, soupy mess. We prepared to explore the west side of the park, hoping that by the time we climbed to over 2,000 feet, we’d again be above the gray. We quickly discovered that the fog still clung to the landscape even at higher elevations. At this point, we were sure that our journey to the west side was doomed to an eerie world in which wisps of fog drifted between the trees.
Timing is everything
Not to be deterred, we went to the visitor center and took Prewett Trail, which was supposed to have a magnificent view of the High Peaks. Since we were sure that, thanks to the fog, we’d never see the peaks, I shot whatever nature photos I could. And then it happened. The fog slowly crawled back towards the valley. Patches of blue appeared overhead. The patches grew until we could make out the ghostly silhouettes of mountains in the distance. We stood, transfixed, as a bland world of gray and clingy moisture gave way to bright blue skies and warming sun. And somehow, we were the only ones there to witness those magnificent peaks emerge from the fog. It was a privilege I won’t soon forget.
Did you see last week’s entry? You can find it at Auckland’s Fukuoka Garden and Lakeside Park. Click here to view more Friday Morning Post entries, or you can follow me on Instagram.
