See Yosemite in a Tin Lizzie

With all due respect to author H.G. Wells, there are no time machines.

Except for the ones we rented recently on a trip back in time to Yosemite National Park in California.

In authentic Model T or Model A cars from the early 1900s, visitors can experience Yosemite as their grandparents or great-grandparents did, bouncing along rutted, one-lane dirt roads, splashing through streams and pulling up to the historic Wawona or Ahwahnee hotels.

Few places are more glorious than Yosemite Valley on a sunny summer day. Driving a classic American convertible heightens the experience as you move at the leisurely pace of yesteryear, Bridalveil and Yosemite falls roaring above you, the Merced River rushing through wooded glens.

But be warned. You may be aboard a historic machine, but you'll also be rewarded with that holy grail of 21st-century life: You'll be a celebrity.

We knew we'd have fun. What we weren't expecting was to be so popular. People smiled. They waved. They took our picture. They asked questions.

During our three-day, two-night stay at David and Sheran Woodworth's gracious, Victorian-style Tin Lizzie Inn on the edge of Yosemite National Park, my wife, two teenage sons and I saw the sights in both a 1929 Model A, complete with rumble seat, and a 1916 Model T.

The Woodworths keep several Model T's and Model A's at their elegant, two-suite B&B (Tin Lizzie was the nickname for a Model T) for guests or day rentals. They'll also arrange multicar, multiday tours of Yosemite and other historic areas of California, including the Gold Country and San Simeon.

For today's driver, the Model A is easily the more familiar of the two autos introduced by Henry Ford. In fact, driving it, I was immediately reminded of my dad's 1964 Ford pickup: the yard-long shift lever and the three-speed gearbox, which makes that satisfying crunch as gears mesh imperfectly with each shift.

Of course, things were simpler 80 years ago.

There's one tiny rearview mirror — or, as it was called in the day, the "hind-view reflector" — which is of little use. And if it rains? Well, there's a top but no wipers — or, as they were originally known as, "rain rubbers."

Stylish driving

We made several circuits of the Yosemite Valley floor, about 34 miles from the inn. We stopped at Bridalveil Fall, then near the Ahwahnee Hotel to check out some rock climbers, followed by another stop for a picnic lunch. Each time my wife exited the rumble seat, she marveled at yesteryear's women: "How in the world could you do this in a dress?"

We made our way up to Glacier Point and then back to Mariposa Grove and its giant sequoias. The boys vetoed a hike, wanting to stay with the car — only to be set upon by Danish tourists who peppered them with questions about the Model A. Finally, as we stopped to show our permit on exiting the park, we were rewarded with a broad smile from the park ranger, who exclaimed: "I remember you guys!"

Ah, the life of a celebrity.

The people's car

Remember the thrill of your first driver's license? Imagine an entire country gripped by that fever. The Model T is the missing link between the horse and buggy and the automobile. Built on the world's first moving assembly line to help drive down costs, it was introduced at a price of $850 but eventually sold for as little as $290. More than 15 million were produced from 1909 to 1927.

As I climbed behind the wheel, it became apparent that driving the Model T would require some adjustments, but I had clear and concise instruction from the inn's David Woodworth.

There are three pedals on the floorboard, but none is a clutch or accelerator. The far-left pedal functions as the gearshift: halfway up is neutral, all the way to the floor is first gear, all the way up is second. The middle pedal is reverse, which can be engaged at any time. And the far-right pedal is the brake, although the car actually doesn't have brakes. When pushed, that pedal engages a mechanism that grips the drive shaft, causing one wheel to stop turning.

We made a quick trip down California Highway 41 to a lovely waterfall for some picture taking. Driving at 35 mph may feel downright pedestrian in your modern car. Aboard a Model T, however, the experience is somewhat more exhilarating.

Soon we left the paved highway and started off on a one-lane dirt national-forest road. It was here that the Tin Lizzie showed its mettle. It was easy to imagine approaching Yosemite in the early 1900s this way.

The T bounced along, pulling strongly up hills. For all its mechanical noises, backfires and creaks, groans and rattles, it's surprisingly agile. One has an undeniable feeling of confidence — odd, given the car's age. What else do you have that's almost a century old and still works?

We approached a stream, perhaps 30 feet across and 2 feet deep. Without hesitation, the T splashed across, water lapping at the running boards. Try that in your minivan.

Family fun

Although the T is equipped with an electric starter, no trip would be complete without hand-cranking the car. I went first. Several failed attempts later, the words, "It can't be done," escaped my lips.

Up stepped my 13-year-old son. A quick jerk of the crank and — vroom! — we were off.

How much fun was it?

That night, back at the inn, we slightly chilled yet sunburned parents offered to take the boys to dinner.

"Can we go in the Model T?" they chorused.