It was a beautiful day, and I was headed home … or so I thought … from a fruitful shoot on the eastern side of the Sierra Nevada Mountains in northern California. (Here are two of the many photographs I took there, one overlooking Mono Lake, the other peering into an old, vacant barn near the village of Lee Vining – yes, that’s the actual name.)               No matter which route I took, unless I was content to go via Cape Horn, it would send me through Yosemite National Park. Although I can think of far less scenic passages, at the time I was not interested in taking any Ansel Adamsesque photos of Half Dome or anywhere else in this awe-inspiring park. Rather, I was desirous of getting home as expeditiously as possible. Because traffic was more brutal than I had expected, I was able to emerge on the western side in about an