Ah, the stunning beauty of California's Yosemite National Park. Ah, the crowds that can ruin it.

Unless you're willing to go off-season.

More than a century ago, John Muir wrote: "Yosemite Park is a place of rest, a refuge from the roar and dust and weary, nervous, wasting work of the lowlands. Its natural beauty cleans and warms like a fire, and you will be willing to stay forever in one place like a tree."

It's probably a good thing Muir never got to visit during a 21st-century summer, for as beautiful as Yosemite still is, there isn't much refuge during these peak months.

The closeness of the narrow valley doesn't help much, either. Administrative buildings and staff housing, plus continuing construction, sometimes give the built-up area the feel of an urban renewal project.

But then all you have to do is lift your eyes to the valley walls, adorned by timeless wonders: El Capitan, Half Dome, Yosemite Point, the Bridalveil and Ribbon falls, Sentinel Rock and many others.

My pal, Jordan Kramer, and I decided to try Yosemite in early February, and we weren't disappointed. It's a four- or five-hour drive from San Francisco through the East Bay hills and the wind-turbine farms near Livermore, across the Central Valley past countless dormant almond, walnut and fruit trees, and through the foothills that open into the valley.

There's a considerable range of accommodations in the valley itself, from the tent cabins at Curry Village to the incomparable Ahwahnee hotel.

Though we planned only three nights in the park, we decided — partly out of financial prudence — to spend the first night at the relatively inexpensive ($130) Yosemite Lodge. Normal check-in time is 5 p.m., but because it was February, we were able to claim our room much earlier. Calling the hotel a "lodge" is something of a stretch, as it consists of plain, low outlying units, each with 10 to 20 rooms. There is no real lobby area, save for the check-in desk next to the public areas: an outdoor stage, a food court, bar and restaurant.

Spartan yet comfortable, the rooms had been upgraded since my last visit many years ago and even sported televisions (with very few channels), which seemed a bit unnecessary. Hanging out in the room wasn't what we had in mind.

Dumping our gear, we headed to the John Muir Gallery looking for leads on the valley's best photo locations, with an emphasis on sunrise and sunset spots.

Things that make Yosemite one of the world's most scenic places, also make it difficult to photograph. High-contrast lighting fools a camera more easily than the naked eye, and dawn and dusk shots suffer from the height of the valley walls.

We were sad to hear that we would miss by just a few days a chance to see one of the best sunrise shows: the illumination of Horsetail Falls, which for just a few days in February can appear as a glowing red rope of water.

We had our best sunset luck at Sentinel Bridge, which drew its daily quota of photographers, ranging from professionals to those just looking for a quick snapshot. Tripods quickly fill up the best spots, as conversation buzzes. The more experienced photographers are eager to share their knowledge and dish on gear. To paraphrase a friend's observation, there's more checking out of equipment than in a San Francisco bathhouse.

The bridge offered a distant view of Half Dome to the east over the Merced River, with the setting sun at our backs. The show was a little tepid, however, mainly because there were no clouds to catch and reflect the waning sunlight. We were about to quit for dinner when a guy with an impressive camera suggested "sometimes there's a late burst of color on Half Dome."

Sure enough, five minutes later, it was briefly bathed in crimson-gold before disappearing into the gathering dusk. Show over.

CHILLY SUNRISE

We scurried back to the hotel, happy for the warmth of civilization. While the day had been unseasonably warm — near 60 — after sunset, the temperatures hurtled precipitously downward.

The next morning, we roused ourselves early enough to catch the sunrise at Swinging Bridge, which afforded a view of Upper Yosemite Falls reflected in an especially calm branch of the Merced. It was clear but very cold. Feet and ears screamed their displeasure as we waited for the first rays to peek over the walls and touch Upper Yosemite Falls, but the sun was so high by then that most of the dawn color had disappeared.

Temperatures quickly climbing into the 50s left us, surprisingly, a little disappointed. We were hoping to get some snow in the valley. It was not to be. On the other hand, we welcomed the empty park roads and trails.

In summer, it's necessary to crowd into the scenic lookout points, but in winter, they were nearly deserted.

For snow we had to drive the 20 miles to Badger Pass, higher up on the rim and the site of a thriving little ski hill and outdoor center. We thought about renting snowshoes to explore the backcountry, perhaps hiking in to Dewey Point, which affords a broad view of the valley, but it was afternoon and we decided instead to hike on the compacted cross-country ski trail atop the blocked-off Glacier Point Road.

We walked two or three miles down the trail, admiring the deep blue sky and occasional mountain vistas. Along the way, we greeted the occasional skier and steadily shed clothing in the afternoon sun before deciding to turn back.

After all, that night we were booked into the Ahwahnee.

THE GRAND AHWAHNEE

The national park system contains some very special lodges and hotels, but none gives away anything to the Ahwahnee, designed by Gilbert Stanley Underwood (the man behind the Grand Canyon Lodge and the Zion and Bryce Canyon lodges as well) and originally opened in 1927.

Though the ascetic John Muir might have felt out of place here, Ansel Adams used to breakfast in the magnificent dining room (more than 6,600 square feet with a 34-foot-high ceiling). Friday and Saturday room rates top $400 a night, including taxes, but the winter weekdays plunge to a mere $280. How could we resist?

And if I wasn't convinced before, the view of Yosemite Falls from my bed clinched the deal.

It seemed almost as though we had the place to ourselves, which certainly wouldn't have been true in summer, when reservations are hard to come by. The dining room, which served excellent if expensive meals, was barely a 10th full for dinner. And we always found a spot in the small parking lot nearby.

Far from being seduced by our luxurious surroundings, Jordan and I determined to experience as much of outdoor Yosemite as we could. For sunset we didn't have to go far, as the grounds yield a fine view of Half Dome bathed in the day's last light.

Dawn found us awaiting the sun at the Wawona Tunnel View to the west. The colors were again very muted even as we enjoyed a spectacular view of the entire valley. Blessed with another sunny day, we decided to hike the valley in spite of the lack of snow. This time, we walked the trail to Mirror Lake and beyond through Tenaya Canyon, up a steep set of switchbacks along the Snow Creek Trail, where we rested and enjoyed a spectacular head-on view of the full 4,800-foot face of Half Dome.

We would have persevered and made it to the top, but my new boots were pinching, and eight miles seemed like enough that day. More than enough, as I rued violating the hikers rule about breaking in new shoes.

The slow walk back gave us some fine views of the eastern valley, some reflected off the perfectly calm surface of the aptly named lake. In some respects, the views through the leafless trees were actually better than in summertime.

Besides, another great dinner awaited at the Ahwahnee.

BARE OF BEARS

Aside from the lack of snow in the valley, my main disappointment was a dearth of animal life. We saw lots of signs indicating that bears were active in the winter, but no actual bears. Aside from a couple of mule deer, squirrels and plenty of cavorting ravens, we didn't really see any animals, much less charismatic megafauna.

On our way back to San Francisco we detoured about 15 miles north in the park to the Hetch Hetchy Valley, whose beauty was said to rival or even surpass that of Yosemite. But back in 1923, the valley was flooded by the damming of the Tuolumne River to create a reservoir for San Francisco's drinking water. There has long been a movement to restore the submerged valley.

The drive to Hetch Hetchy isn't far, winding through forested hill country. Though it was another fine day, we didn't see a single car along the way. For security reasons, we had to check in with the ranger and learned that only two others had passed through that morning. Some fine rocks tower over the reservoir, but the small section visible from the O'Shaughnessy Dam doesn't really give a clue about what's downstream. There are a few day-hike trails in the area that I'll try to explore someday.

So far, I've been to Yosemite three times in the off-season and never been disappointed. Even the blizzard that hit on one visit was a visual pleasure, but the generally temperate winters in the valley make it an ideal time to visit.

Just bring your longjohns for the cold evenings, and prepare to have one of the world's most beautiful places pretty much to yourself.

You can have beautiful Yosemite Valley almost all to yourself — if you go off-season