How I Fell in Love With This Popular U.S. National Park During a Surprise Snowstorm

Travel will surprise you. That we know. The question is not if, but how. A wrong turn, a chance encounter, an unforeseen bout of weather — it’s often in these unplanned moments that the real meaningful magic happens. I was reminded of this in Bosnia, when a missed exit first led to panic, then to a detour to a hidden waterfall where we serendipitously spent the afternoon swimming in emerald-green waters. It nudged me again in Peru, when I lost my camera, but instead found lifelong friendship in a near-stranger. And then in Croatia, during an unexpectedly bumpy boat ride that brought us to a local fisherman who cooked us fresh fish in the middle of the ocean. The freer your expectations, the more open your mind, the richer the experience: I most recently relearned this lesson on a trip to California’s Yosemite National Park.

The Yosemite in my mind (and on my Instagram feed) was delightfully warm, summoning outdoor adventures with its waterfall-lined granite peaks and lush, wildflower-flecked meadows. In these snapshots, sunlight danced across the whole scene, illuminating the hulking Half Dome in one direction, the colossal El Capitan in the other. You could hike, bike, or rock climb for hours — no, days — and never tire of the views. But my dreams of exploring Yosemite the way I envisioned, summiting several sunny mountains in a day, started to slip away when, despite deliberate planning to visit in typically balmy October, the autumn forecast called for a surprise snowfall.

This was a good thing, the park ranger told us. At the time, drought-stricken California, which had been beset by wildfires just a few months prior to our fall 2021 visit, was parched, and so this was not only welcome, but necessary.

My husband and I arrived in Yosemite to somber clouds that eventually had us flipping on our windshield wipers to full speed. Freezing rain soon turned to delicate flakes, little by little carpeting the landscape, and the crowds I was warned about this time of year evaporated. But Yosemite is Yosemite. And it still pulled out all the stops, putting on an Eden-like show despite the weather and the fact that there were hardly any witnesses around to see it.

Where to Stay Near Yosemite National Park

At more than 747,000 acres, Yosemite is, well, big, and there are more than a handful of places to rest your muscles between outdoor pursuits. None are quite as exceptional, though, as Chateau du Sureau, a nine-acre storybook escape rising from the Sierra Nevada Mountains. Though this Relais & Chateaux property is just 16 miles from the park, you’ll be wondering whether you’ve landed in the south of France instead, thanks to its Provencal-style architecture (terra-cotta-tiled rooftops, a stone turret, whimsical gardens, and tall cypress trees). The inside is just as enchanting, with 10 romantic rooms featuring wood-burning fireplaces, canopy beds, and private balconies. There’s even a 2,000-square-foot, Parisian-style villa for an extra-secluded getaway.

A bit too brisk to make use of the peaceful outdoor pool during our visit, Chateau du Sureau is just as charming in the colder months, as evidenced by our evenings spent cozied up in the sumptuous communal living room, complete with a piano and chess. And after an active day in the park, there’s nothing like coming back to a meal at the fine-dining Elderberry House Restaurant, where culinary director Chris Flint (formerly of Eleven Madison Park) serves a menu of local, seasonal, and organic ingredients. Every detail, even down to the lack of a front desk, is there to make feel like you’ve entered your fairy-tale home away from home.

Drives and Hikes in Yosemite National Park

Driving into Yosemite Valley in the fall — even during a freak snowstorm — is like entering a daydream. The glowing golds and burnt oranges and rich plums — remnants of the waning season — somehow looked even more brilliant against the bright white of freshly fallen snow as we entered the Valley Loop, a highlights reel that hits many of the park’s hot spots — El Capitan, Half Dome, and Bridalveil Falls — in one go. Under normal circumstances, this road is crammed with cars; even getting to the entrance can take hours. And forget about finding a parking spot.

With wide-open spaces coming at a premium in recent times, America’s national parks — Yosemite included — had been seeing record visitor numbers — but not that day. There was no traffic, no need to jockey for a tourist-free view. And so, we slowed things down. We pulled off at nearly every viewpoint — not just stopping, but lingering. We stood more than 20 minutes in just one spot, watching the misty, low-hanging clouds dip, first revealing Half Dome’s crown, then parting entirely to show its full haughty form. We would come to see this very popular view again the following day under clear, bright skies, when the weather called for 60 degrees, but this time was different: We had it to ourselves.

Later that afternoon, as we stood huddled together under the cover of one umbrella, staring up at the humbling waterfalls, a park ranger came over and said, “You’re lucky. You can see the waterfalls today — they’re usually dry this time of year.” Lucky, I thought, laughing at first. But we were — not just to be here, but to witness something somewhat rare.

The next morning, we rose at 6 a.m. as sunny skies were on the agenda. By sunrise, the warmth of the sun had bested the snow, leaving behind grassy lawns in place of layers of white, as if the haze of yesterday were all just a dream. Taking advantage of the mild weather, we decided to head out for a hike, and there are many to choose from — short and long, demanding and downright easy, and happy mediums between both — but all beautiful.

There’s the one-mile walk to Lower Yosemite Falls for a quick but gorgeous view; the Upper Yosemite Falls hike, on the other hand, is a nearly eight-mile round-trip endeavor with a 2,700-foot elevation gain. Mesmerizing sequoias catapulting into the sky await at Mariposa Grove, while the Mist Trail to Vernal Falls is a three-mile round-trip journey with another stunning vantage point of the park. My favorite, though, was the Four-mile Trail, a steep, almost 10-mile round-trip slog that culminates at Glacier Point, showing off spectacular lookouts to many of the park’s most famous landmarks: Yosemite Valley, El Capitan, Yosemite Falls (the tallest in North America), and eventually, Half Dome.

But despite the clear forecast, the day wasn’t without its surprises. Walking in single file, the trek started in spring-like conditions: mossy boulders, ponderosa pines, and even some flowers leading the way. We had heard this path offered some of the best vistas in the park, and it didn’t take long for the Cathedral Rocks and El Capitan to frame each end of our gaze. The views only grew in grandness with each stride, persuading us to pause every time the trees opened to reveal another spectacular scene.

As we ascended, we noticed the first trace of snow, acknowledging it, but forging ahead nonetheless — the trail was still open to hikers, after all. Of course, the higher we climbed, the deeper things got, and soon, we were cutting through steep switchbacks clobbered in several inches of powder. Those blooms we had stumbled upon just an hour ago were nowhere to be seen; no signs of life to be found. This was completely unfamiliar from what I had seen in photos. Plus, just below, the sun was shining, with temps teetering above 60 degrees. We trudged the rest of the way, our conversation breaking off till we could hear nothing other than the sound of our own breathing and the wet crunch of our boots on the packed trail. Yes, it was tough, but the sweeping scenery, especially at the summit, complete stillness, and absence of others was something special. Once again, there was beauty in the unpredictable.

Before leaving the park that afternoon, we drove to the Tunnel View, another knockout just beyond the Wawona Tunnel on Highway 41. Though not as strenuous to reach (you simply park at one of the lots and walk over), this panoramic viewpoint is one of the most photographed in the park, and it’s not hard to see why: Yosemite Valley, Half Dome, El Capitan, Yosemite Falls, and Bridalveil Falls are all within eyeshot. And because of the fall snowstorm that had, at first, left us disappointed, our view was even more unique — we saw all four seasons at once. There were snowcapped peaks beckoning the distance, lingering summer wildflowers sprinkled about, gushing waterfalls creating a spring-like mist, and fall foliage lacing the whole scene. Turns out, surrendering our expectations of what was supposed to be, what I had seen in photos or heard from other travelers, opened us to enjoy a different (and perhaps even more magical) experience. And come to think of it, aren’t these fortuitous, chance encounters what travel is all about?