I get it, he wanted to be thorough so we would know what was going on. That's all well and good except..
silent film accompaniment except more annoying and turned up to 11. Strike 3. And when he finally stopped the music, he rambled for the next four hours about the year John Muir was born, how many siblings he had, what his favorite color was, how many freckles he had on his forearm, how often he clipped his toenails.. What food options there are at Jack in the Box, Subway, Burger King, how a buffet-style restaurant works, a B.S. story about how raisins were invented (followed by, "I don't know, I imagined that's how it happened") and at the very least a three minute description of how we should exit the bus said in three different, but still the same, ways every time he released us from my own personal hell.
The trees were beautiful, the waterfalls should have been beautiful but they were dried up, I've never been to happy to see my parents in my life and hopefully it makes for a funny story (because at the time I thought I might actually stick a Sequoia--which he didn't give us enough time to see-- branch in his eyeball).