Day 234: 1/2 dome

It had always been on my bucket list(s) to climb Half Dome in Yosemite. This huge, 8,836 foot tall piece of granite has eluded many for years as "perfectly inaccessible." Then someone climbed it once and suddenly it was the in thing to do. Anyways, this weekend was spent in Yosemite with the sheer goal of conquering that 7 mile up, 8.2 mile down hike that spanned an elevation gain of about 4,800 feet, and while we had our doubts at some point, we knew we got this...

...bitch.

The trail doesn't waste any time and already starts off as steep as hell. Less than a half mile in we were already panting and stopping to "take pictures."

The trail then breaks off and turns into some fairly steep rock stairs that just keep going...

and going...

...until you reach the top of Vernal Falls. The worst part about this part of the hike is the presence of the Emerald Pool, an oasis-like pond that would be perfect to dip your aching feet in, were it not for the fact that you can't swim there anymore.

The trail continues along a slight incline through the trees until we find ourselves at...

dammit.

...more of these damn rock steps.

The most heartbreaking part about it all is that at the top of those endless rock steps, you realize you've only gone about 2.5 miles:

The trail continues through some misleadingly flat meadows (the calm before the storm, so to speak) until we reach a multi-mile zig-zagging uphill descent through a trail up the mountain.

After at least an hour or two of non-stop inclines, you get a decent view of Half Dome from behind to serve as a reminder as to how far away you still are, and how steep that climb up the rock is gonna be.

A short foray through an uphill shaded trail and after surrendering the tickets required to climb Half Dome to the ranger posted there, we find ourselves on the final stretch up to the rock...

dammit!

...more of those damn steep rock steps.

The trail of steps ends eventually and we find ourselves just scaling what's called the "sub-dome" directionless, hoping that we don't climb our way off the cliff.

We eventually reach the top of sub-dome...which is where real fun begins:
In case you can't see, those cables that are running down the side of Half Dome are the only way up to the top. They're spaced about 3 feet across to allow the climber to grip both sides on their ascent or descent. There are poles that hold up the cables every 5 or 6 feet up with planks of wood to provide some sort of stable surface to stand on. You need gloves to hang on to these wire cables, because a good amount of your weight will be lifted with your arms. If you slip and fall or let go, it will be a long way down and you will for sure fall to your death. The cables must be shared for both those going up and coming down, and when passing through, one must let go of one side of the cables and hang on for dear life. They expect you to make this climb after you've already finished hiking 7 miles uphill...

And it lasts for about 900 feet up.

but hey, no pressure!

With every step up, I find myself growing increasingly more tired, fatigue setting in faster with every breath of rapidly thinning air. I avoid looking down at all costs. I desperately needed to take a break from climbing, but I knew that the longer I stayed hanging there, the worse it would get. Thankfully, the top is eventually reached...


It's already 4:30 by the time we reach the top (we started at 9:30, by the way). It's deserted up here and we're the only ones. It was a bit unnerving, but overall still was kinda cool.


After a few obligatory funny poses on the edge...

...and after taking care of some business

oh yes he did!

We made our long 8.2 mile descent back. By then it was already 5pm and the sun was rapidly setting.


We must've hiked for a good 3 miles in 2 hours in pitch darkness with only a few small flashlights leading the way. 12 hours after starting our journey, we finally made it back to the campsite, where lukewarm Coors Lite in a can awaited us.

Although about 50,000 people climb Half Dome a year, it doesn't take away the sense of accomplishment we all felt at the end of it all. No doubt that it was both mentally and physically challenging (and torture on the knees, too). Not just anyone could have gone on this hike and expect to make it all the way. But dammit, we survived.

I happen to throw around the phrase "I can die happy now" alot. Cases in point:

"I won a cookbook in a raffle tonight. I can die happy."
-May 14, 2009
"I just got a shoutout on ucla radio...I can now die happy"
-Jul 14, 2009

But after crossing this one off my bucket list, I think I actually mean it this time (until the next time I decide to use this phrase again).