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Author: Luisa Vargas

An Adventure in Yosemite

por Anthony Monterroza

This place was nothing short of jaw dropping beauty from the moment my vehicle’s tires rolled onto the frozen roads of Yosemite National Park. The sounds of ice crunching beneath my tires filled the air as I rolled my windows down to breathe in the unbelievably fresh air that the forest was projecting.

My car glided into a snow-covered parking lot and backed up with with ease into my spot. I noticed my eyes could not move quick enough to take in and process every bit of intense detail that was being projected by the world before me. I was feeling a sense of freedom I had never felt before.

As I stomped my way across frozen bridges and slippery roads I passed several roaring streams, flowing strong from the literal tons of snow that the present winter has brought. I was in basic waterproof hiking boots and sweatpants along with a thermal, t-shirt, and windbreaker jacket to tie it all together. In my backpack I had water, camera, tripod, trail mix, and a weatherproof speaker to keep me going along my journey. Needless to say I was not much prepared for my trip at all and if it wasn’t for my driving passion to find adventure and create my own personal journey to self-growth, I would not have gone far before turning back after a few hours of basic walking and leaving to sit within my hotel room.

I began my ascent upwards towards the famous Half Dome trail, stopping multiple times to gaze in bewilderment at the profound landscapes that presented themselves at every clearing that was along my path. I was slipping profusely on the frozen rock and dirt as the trail began to slope with the steady rising elevation. The walkway had a thin layer of ice over the top of it which made falling on my ass inevitable and constant. It took me two hours before I found the trail to be secure enough to walk with my camera hanging around my neck and not worry about my tumbling and landing on it. I was cold, exhausted, and thirsty, yet I had been having the most fun in the entirety of my life.

I took a quick water break and pushed forward another hour, kicking my way through piles of freshly laid snow until ultimately being met with yet another unrealistic spectacle that mother nature herself had hidden away within the confines of her mountains. I froze and stood gazing in amazement as I took it all in. The very chill that ran up my spine as I breathed deeply through my nostrils is still imprinted in my memory today. The sound of a few distant roaring waterfalls complemented the scents of wet pine trees and earth very well as the sight of my dreams sat directly in front of me. I took my pictures, strapped into my backpack, and hurried towards the first waterfall.

There it is. The first waterfall. I tasted the crisp mist as it rose off of the rocks lying at the bottom of which it cascaded upon. It was truly a landscape to behold and take a much-needed break at. My muscles ached as I hydrated but all the sensation that the thrill of exploration had brought into my very being silenced whatever resistance my body was trying to show me. I walked to the edge and peered over it and saw at least 200+ feet between myself and the ground. I hung my legs over the edge and thought of absolutely nothing as I watched the movie that life was playing for me. Time passed and eventually, I had to move on from this beloved position to continue onward throughout a frozen Yosemite.

“The sound of a few distant roaring waterfalls complemented the scents of wet pine trees and earth very well as the sight of my dreams sat directly in front of me.”

Anthony Monterroza

After enjoying the moment messing around in the snow and fooling around in the icy water I dragged on up the mountain that sat behind the first waterfall. At this point exhausted and carrying less than half the water I had started with, I found myself taking more and more breaks as I climbed. I had arrived at the top probably no more than 90 minutes later to a little clearing with a shack that sat at the top and a sign to the right of it with multiple distances to different viewpoints of the park etched onto the surface. I know Half Dome was less than 5 miles away but can not remember the exact distance. I could only recall seeing that “Little Yosemite” was 1.2 miles away. I then turned from the sign and went forth towards the top of a waterfall that poured into and fed the first one. I walked until the path had ended seeing nothing but deeply layered snow in front of me and decided to go further anyways seeing the views tease me just around the corner. I took one step, bam, my leg instantly sank a good three feet deep into the white abyss and cold snow started to fill my boot. I shrugged it off and repeated with my other leg. Forty-three icy leaps later and I came to a little bridge that sat at the top of the falls. I leaned over and spent the next five minutes puking from exhaustion. Shaking, I picked up my camera and took some photos then sat back and tried to enjoy the final view of this forever memorable hike as I hydrated and ate. Before me sat the entire valley of Yosemite, its snow-blanketed powdery mountains peered back at me as my mind seemed to welcome the vision with two arms wide open. I was dumbfounded in every sense of the word and proud that I had gotten so far on my first actual hike throughout Yosemite.

I packed my gear up and descended from the mountains spending every second of that walk remembering every smell, sound, detail, taste that I could. When I arrived at my car I got out of every piece of clothing I originally started in and changed into some shorts and a sweatshirt then hopped in and instantly cranked the heater. Twenty minutes of shivering and heating up my engine and I was finally good to go, ultimately ending my escapade with a heated car and month’s worth of adventure.

Anthony Monterroza was a lover of all things outdoors.

His proud and loving mother, Tina-Marie, shared this story that Anthony wrote when he was 20 years old, following his winter adventure in Yosemite in 2017, motivated by “his great passion for the great outdoors.” As she celebrates Anthony’s life together with family and friends on May 8th, 2021, she hopes that his writing and images will inspire more people from Latino communities to explore our beautiful world.

Un Mar De Colores “One Ocean Touches All Shores”

por Mario Ordóñez-Calderón

The ocean is one of the biggest connectors we as humans have on this planet. An experience in the sea in any capacity can have an enormous impact- it has the power to embrace and humble, calm and empower. My love and understanding for the ocean came later in life. It was through the art of surfing that my perspective shifted, and I no longer viewed the ocean shore as the great divider but instead as the beginning of exploration and connection.

Learning to surf was every bit as challenging as it was exciting. Navigating crowds, learning how to read the waves, and understanding tides were all part of that process. Not to mention, fifteen stitches from a wipeout gone wrong can mentally and physically leave its mark. I kept paddling out despite the growing pains, becoming addicted to all the sensations that came with surfing. I loved the way my first duck dive into the cold water left me feeling cleansed of all stresses, the deep tranquility I found while sitting out in the line up and the flow state while cruising down the open face of a wave. Learning to surf helped me learn more about myself. I gained not only self-clarity, but also a community of fellow surfers who shared my passions in and out of the water.

“I recognized that I was lucky enough to have a friend already immersed in surf culture to help me feel comfortable out in the water. It was this reflection that prompted me to question how I could return that favor for other multicultural youth with a similar upbringing as mine”.

Mario Ordóñez-Calderón

I remember the moment when the idea of sharing my passion for surfing with others sparked. Two years ago, while loading up the car to surf I’d see my Guatemalan neighbor’s kids playing out front or getting ready for school. As I drove away to the beach –less than a mile down the street– I looked back through the rear view mirror and saw kids that reminded me of myself in my youth. I began to wonder why it was that I never saw that family heading to the beach.

This subtle observation sparked within me a series of questions to try and understand why I didn’t see more Latinos out in the water, even though the Latino population in San Diegos were so large. As I reflected on my own experience, I recognized that I was lucky enough to have a friend already immersed in surf culture to help me feel comfortable out in the water. It was this reflection that prompted me to question how I could return that favor for other multicultural youth with a similar upbringing as mine.

From that blossomed Un Mar De Colores. We are a nonprofit organization that bridges the socioeconomic gap in surfing by providing free surf lessons to children of color and underserved youth. The mission is simple: share the ocean, diversify the lineup, and inspire youth. We create a space that offers a safe, relevant, and inclusive presence within communities and neighborhoods that have historically not received equitable opportunities to experience the ocean and use their voice.

We want to drive home the message that the ocean does not discriminate, it welcomes all and provides a ‘sense of place’ no matter an individual’s circumstance or color. We hosted our first Surf Fiestas in the Summer of 2020 and have been working closely with a young group of local North County kids since. We choose to go deep with a select group of 10-15 kids under the age of 12 offering them one-on-one mentorship with primarily BIPOC surfers. A key element of Un Mar De Colores is the constant effort to inspire passion and purpose through play, encouraging participants to find direction in the world through the things that bring them joy. We truly believe something as simple as catching a wave has the opportunity to teach a child their greatest life lessons.

UMDC’s second (and just as important) mission is providing visibility into an already existing rich culture of people of color within the surfing community. Our media initiative called #RepresentationMatters highlights surfers/watermen/waterwomen of multicultural backgrounds in order to show the beauty of diversity in the ocean community. We strongly believe that representation in media has a powerful impact, and is a key component in the success of multicultural youth involvement and dedication to understand the ocean as their space, too. #RepresentationMatters has truly given us the ability to inspire through art. Most recently, we collaborated with Patagonia Cardiff and Santa Barbara based artist DJ Javier to create a mural called “The Beach is For All” on the side of their storefront. Un Mar De Colores is just as proud about our art scholarships in which we grant funding to several BIPOC artists throughout the year in order for them to create ocean/surf inspired art. Whether it be a painting, a surf film, or an illustration- we see the importance of promoting the connection between art, surf, and diversity.

Un Mar De Colores has been taking shape strongly over the past half a year, and it’s all thanks to the ongoing community support. It takes a village to change culture and cultivate a more inclusive surfing community for posterity, and as a non-profit we’ve gotten as far as we have because of the continuous support from our volunteers, friends/familia, and donors. At the end of the day, I’m filled with gratitude with the ability to have a positive ripple effect in the lives of others. The ocean gave me a sense of belonging. Living a life so interconnected with it has opened doors for me in just about every aspect of my life. Passing that along to others is a cherry on top. I’m looking forward to continuing to share this passion as we start to move things along for our 2021 program.

In addition to being a surfer and co-founder of Un Mar de Colores, Mario is a mountaineer, bikepacker, and much more. Get to know him through Cycle of Ancestry, a short film about Mario’s cultural heritage and love for the outdoors.

Mapping Migraciones: From the Tropics to the Tundra | Sandhill Crane

por Leslie Gonzalez Everett

The migration of many Puerto Ricans to the US mainland, particularly to the Northeast and to Florida, follows well-established patterns. My Father, like many Puerto Ricans, came to New York City in search of work and opportunity in the post-WWII era. He migrated and settled in the Bronx alongside his brothers and sisters and their families. He began to build his life like many Puerto Ricans, working in a factory and becoming a part of the growing community in the barrios of New York. They would travel back and forth, indeed like migratory birds, to visit the island and spend time with family and come back to the lives and community they were building in the city.

It was during one of these migratory trips to Puerto Rico that my father met my mother, and soon they began migrating together. All throughout my childhood, yearly like clockwork when summer rolled around, we would pack our bags and take flight from New Jersey to San Juan to spend time with family. We would land at my Abuelita’s house and spend two- weeks going house to house, or house to beach visiting with all my Tios, Tias, Primos, y Primas. We ate and played our way across the island and made the most wonderful memories year after year.

When I was twelve years old, my parents decided to move to Florida. We settled in Central Florida, again following a tried-and-true migratory pattern, landing near family in an area that had a very robust Puerto Rican community. The migration pattern to and from Puerto Rico on an almost yearly basis would continue into my high school years.

It was not until I met my husband, James (a Floridian since birth), married, and began a family of my own that the near yearly migrations to Puerto Rico stopped. We created our nest in Central Florida, close to my parents and raised our son in the same town where my husband was born and grew up. Like many young families, the funds for yearly trips were scarce, and the focus of our efforts became raising our son, working and the everyday routine of life. It was not until our son, Jimmy, had graduated from college that we would abandon our now-empty Central Florida nest, in search of something new.

With our nest empty, as our son joined the Peace Corps and began his service in Colombia, James and I decided that it was time for us to go on an adventure of our own. So, in a move that is still heralded by friends and family in Florida as being Loco/Crazy, we left our career jobs, packed up our camper and decided to head west to Yellowstone country. The mountains were calling, and so we went. We traveled across the country to come live and work in Yellowstone National Park. It was (and continues to be) the adventure of a lifetime, a new migration west.

We lived inside the park for two summers working seasonally, and then relocated to Montana as Yellowstone and Big Sky Country worked its magic on us. I have never experienced a landscape so wild and majestic, and so vasty different from the flatlands of Florida or the tropics of Puerto Rico. How can it be that I find myself in a place where my soul feels at home, and yet I am so clearly a foreigner? To put it in context, the estimated Puerto Rican population in Montana and Wyoming COMBINED is less than 3200! I can’t find gandules, platanos and bacalao without driving for miles and miles (if then!) and forget about pasteles.

Yet here I am living my best post empty-nest life, enjoying a natural world like no other in the lower forty-eight with flora and fauna that I never thought of coexisting with. Grizzly bears, mountain lions, bison, elk, mule deer frequent the area where I now live. Nature surrounds me; It challenges me with new experiences and comforts me with its familiar patterns.

Every year I look forward to springtime. Spring brings many familiar “faces” to the landscape, robins, white pelicans, and others each following their own migratory pattern that brings them here. But my favorite is the Sandhill Crane. Their presence is comforting and familiar. I will always remember the first time I saw a Sandhill Crane in Yellowstone NP, they arrived shortly after we did to the park’s interior. A small group landed in Hayden Valley and I was mesmerized, thinking “I wonder if they made the trip from Florida, like us”?

In Central Florida Sandhill Cranes are everywhere and when I see them arrive in Montana, they always make me smile. I feel that (like me) they look somewhat out of place and yet perfectly at home. Their gangly tropical appearance that is akin to a flamingo always looks mismatched to me against the rugged snow-capped Rocky Mountains, particularly in early spring. Yet, crown held high and wings out, they strut across the landscape slowly and deliberately making their nests, making their home.

Leslie Gonzalez Everett lives in Paradise Valley (Emigrant), Montana with her husband James and rescue dog, Buddy. She enjoys wildlife watching, hiking, kayaking, and trying to make arroz con gandules like her Mami and Abuela (which is still a work in progress). Leslie is the former Chief Administrator of the official non-profit partner for Yellowstone National Park.