The park has seen some reservation cancellations and some nearby mountain communities have had a serious drop-off in business due to the 301-square-mile Rim Fire, which was 30 percent contained Thursday. More than 20,000 acres of the fire are along the northern edge of the 750,000-acre national park.
But 20 miles upwind in Yosemite Valley, the sky is clear and not even the scent of smoke is in the air.
Park officials expect about 3,000 cars a day to pass through gates this weekend instead of the nearly 5,000 that might typically show on the holiday. Most of the missing will be day tourists, not folks who have waited months and even years for a campsite along the Merced River or room at the historic Ahwahnee Lodge.
“We’ve had minimal cancellations, and when we do we fill them immediately,” said park spokesman Scott Gediman. “The campsites are full and there are plenty of people, but because of the publicity we’re slower.”
It’s a familiar pattern of panic, cancellation and rebooking in the rugged national park that has been shaped by all manner of disaster. In years past, when boulders tumbling from 3,000-foot granite monoliths have sent tourists scrambling, or when a mouse-borne illness killed tent cabin guests, cancellations have poured in.
But the park never has enough lodging for the 4 million tourists who visit annually, so vacant rooms rarely go unfilled for long.
That’s not the case in nearby Groveland, a scenic Gold Rush community along a road that carries 2.2 million cars into the park every year. Early on fire tore along Highway 120, forcing its closure and cutting off the town’s lifeblood.
Since then the historic hamlet has been the dateline on scores of ominous news stories describing the inferno that has long since chewed its way north. The notoriety has taken a toll.
“I laid off all my girls,” on Wednesday, said Laura Jensen, owner of the Firefall Coffee Roasting Company. “This has totally drained us. It’s like winter when we slow down and take care of the locals, but this should be our busiest time of the year.”
The Iron Door Saloon, which calls itself the oldest in California, also laid off employees this week, as did the Hotel Charlotte, a 1920s boutique hotel on Main Street.
“I’ve had $20,000 worth of cancellations in the past few days,” said Doug Edwards, who owns the hotel with his wife, Jen. “It’s fear-driven. People don’t want to drive on a road that looks like Hiroshima or Nagasaki.”