On the way home from Reno, I stay awake to watch my dad carefully maneuver the curved roads. Sometimes there’s snow, sometimes there’s none. Green signs lead our way back to San Francisco, Yosemite always standing out to me. Yoze-mite, I say aloud. Now an inside joke, someone is guaranteed to say it when we pass by a sign. The sun slowly sets, the roads become darker. My dad has driven this road many times before, but I still feel nervous. So I stay awake, like my mom in the back, for as long as I can.