California was in one of its periodic droughts when I arrived in 1973. The next January, I climbed to the top of Yosemite Falls. Being the middle of winter, I set out long before sunrise and brought survival gear and appropriate clothing layers with me. After spending some time at the top, I headed down and saw people coming up in shorts, t-shirts, and flip flops. I went down just shaking my head.
I'm surprised the parks aren't littered with a lot more bodies.
I believe it. Culling of the herd.