Yosemite National Park, Calif. ? The valley sparkled, lighted by the kind of sunshine that only a frigid January can bring.

Aided and abetted by snow crystals and a sky free of mist, the sun scattered brilliance and shadow across granite escarpments that never fail to captivate. I walked through piney woods, made the first tracks across a few broad meadows and felt still more privileged than I do when I visit Yosemite in summertime.

Lacking snowshoes and tire chains, I could explore only Yosemite Valley during my brief visit almost a year ago. But that was enough of Yosemite to invigorate me — a pleasant jolt the park always achieves.

Yosemite Valley is 7 miles of canyon carved by glaciers that apparently had esthetic sensibilities. The ice floes were sensitive enough to leave an array of stony features that have become old friends — the sheer walls of El Capitan, bald-but-beautiful Half Dome, Cathedral Rocks and Spires, the steep canyon walls with water plunging down from hidden creeks.

Some of the park’s most beautiful features are not within the official boundaries of the valley, but most are imposing enough to be seen from there. Hikers more ambitious than I could slog up Glacier Point Road (closed to vehicles in winter) and from that point take in the splendor from above and all at once.

But I was satisfied with what I had. Bob Roney, Yosemite’s master interpreter of nature and culture, told me winters there can vary quite a bit. January temperatures can reach into the high 40s or dip into the mid-20s. Snowfall averages 6 inches. But there can be ripping storms and crippling, snowbound days. “Each winter has its own character,” Roney said. The character of the one I chose was absolutely sterling.

At the east end of the valley, I spent more than an hour simply walking around the snow-covered campgrounds and taking in Half Dome from various perspectives. Eons ago, ice sheared off a massive chunk of its rounded peak and then ground it into soil that probably ended up down south in what are now the orchards of San Joaquin Valley. Glaciers in those prehistoric endless winters left us with a piece of rock more beautiful than a Full Dome would have been. And on that day, I could see that Half Dome wore a fluffy white hat, jaunty as a snowman and therefore imposing in a friendly way.

Half Dome in Yosemite National Park sparkles when snow caps its head. The meadow welcomes cross-country skiers. Yosemite keeps roads open throughout the year so the park can be visited in any season.

Never an off-season

A lot of the western national parks can be forbidding outposts in the dead of winter. Roads close under drifts too high to plow. Temperatures dip far below zero. Some of them become venues that only cross-country skiers, ice fishermen and snowmobilers could love.

Yosemite, however, keeps three major roads open and plowed, providing motorists access to Yosemite Valley from the west and south. California Highway 140, through Mariposa, is the least mountainous and least likely to require chains. So, during my days in the park last January, the crowds may have been much thinner than those of summer, but I certainly wasn’t alone.

The evening I arrived, the Mountain Room Restaurant at Yosemite Lodge bustled as if it were still high season. It has a rustic, roadhouse-fishing lodge ambience and an ambitious bill of fare. I saw a lot of haute-cuisine items on the menu, but I craved prime rib after the long drive from San Francisco’s airport — 4 1/2 hours on a good day, but a couple of hours longer when facing occasional ice slicks. A hearty meal could put all that behind me, and the Mountain Room provided.

I spent dinner eavesdropping on the families that surrounded me. Most were Yosemite veterans reminiscing about that summer week they lived in tents, or that hike all the way up Half Dome.

The noisiest tables were those that included newcomers. Veterans peppered the Yosemite rookies with impressions and suggestions. “You simply have to hike up to Bridalveil Fall.” “You gotta check out the giant sequoias.” “Go out to Tunnel View and look back. It’s the most amazing scene you’ll ever see …”

Comfortable lodging

Clearly, a visit to Yosemite in winter does not require anyone to rough it. My quarters in the 229-unit lodge resembled a standard motel room without the television. No air conditioning, but plenty of heat and a telephone. I did make the short hike up to the base of Bridalveil on a mild day. Sunshine melted some of the ice that had formed at the top, and chunks were breaking off with a loud report like cannon fire.

The people I encountered on that, and other, trails were not the hard-core hikers and rock climbers so prevalent in summer, spring and fall. Instead of tattered parkas and enormous backpacks, they wore colorful garb from North Face, Patagonia and L.L. Bean, or expensive ski outfits suited for the nearby slopes.

Even when Yosemite Falls becomes one huge icicle and leaves the valley almost silent, the park inspires a sense of occasion. Tour buses lumber in and out. Visitors — huffing steam — amble between the fast-food courts, the gift shops and the Ansel Adams Gallery, which honors the photographer who helped to make the park an icon of the national park system.

The Ahwahnee Hotel stands on ceremony more than any other park facility. I booked my last two nights there so I could bask in the expansive public rooms with their huge stone hearths and arching beams. A Grande Dame among national park lodges, the Ahwahnee opened in 1927 and has become a National Historic Landmark and one of the unique hotels belonging to the National Trust for Historic Preservation.

My room, one of 123, was small, but nicely fitted with Old West artifacts, hints of native blankets, bits of burnished leather and wrought iron. It could have been a cowpoke’s digs as imagined by the editors of Architectural Digest.