We wake up feeling energized. The vintage rooms at the Mizpah have rejuvenated us, and no one seems to have been visited by ghosts last night.

Unfortunately, the hotel doesn't serve breakfast, so we put our bags in the car and head a few hundred meters away from the hotel to a typical American diner. We order pancakes, eggs, and bacon, and they bring us huge portions that will keep us full until dinner.

Stuffed to the brim, we set off, leaving Tonopah behind us.

Back in the cosmic void. Endless expanses of scrub and sand, beneath a clear blue sky illuminated by the June sun, which is beginning to warm the air.

We pass through a couple of ridges, and—as we’ve come to expect, though it never ceases to amaze us—the landscape transforms into a forest of conifers and small shrubs. The air grows cooler, and we catch sight of a beautiful lake on the horizon.

So we take a narrow dirt road to get closer to the water, having fun wading across a stream. Once we reach the beach, we notice the smell of sulfur, the mud, and the flies on the water’s edge, and any desire to go for a swim vanishes.

We rest for a few minutes, get back in the cars, and stop at a gas station to stock up on water and a snack—we don’t eat anything; we’re still full from that amazing breakfast at the diner.

So we begin our ascent up the mountain range toward Yosemite National Park, and as we climb, the temperature drops and trees begin to appear—lots of trees. We enter the park and find ourselves in Austria. Fir forests, green meadows, small lakes.

20 degrees. Just a few hours earlier, it had been 30. Yesterday, we were sweltering in the 39-degree desert heat.

We immediately fall in love with the mountain landscape, which reminds us a little of home. After so much sand, red rock, and aridscenery , a little greenery is just what we need.

We hike downhill for a good hour to the Yosemite Valley, where most of the trails to the famous spots begin, stopping next to a meadow. We walk for a while through the tall grass until we finally reach a stream; we decide to take some time to dip our feet in the cold water, breathe in the fresh afternoon air, and chat a bit while skipping stones across the river.

We decide to follow a trail to the waterfalls, passing through a forest of towering redwoods and then climbing up among the rocks, weaving our way through groups of Asian and Indian tourists. The power of the water plunging from dozens of meters up is felt with every passing second, giving us a sense of peace as we admire the lush, mountainous landscape around us. But the sun is setting, and we still have a two-hour drive to the hotel, on the other side of the mountain range, finally in California.

We drive through woods and forests as we head down the Sonora side. We arrive in Merced at dusk. A quick dinner at Denny’s—all bundled up like penguins for the air conditioning—and then straight to bed.

We're in California