Half Dome

The Mist Trail
I started off on the Mist Trail. With an incline of 1,200 feet in 2.5 miles, there is undoubtedly no part of the trail which declines. The entire trail goes alongside the Merced river, passing 2 separate waterfalls. I took the pictures I could with my phone's camera; however, none of them compare to the beauty the landscape truly possesses.

Keep in mind, as I was lugging my 25 (maybe 30?) pound bag up this incline, I still had absolutely no idea what I was doing that night. I hiked, I climbed up big rocks, I got wet, and I stood for moments taking in the beauty of Yosemite. The Valley is something spectacular, don't get me wrong, but the trails outside are something else to see. One of the Top 5 climbing areas in the world, containing the 5th largest waterfall in the world, and a vast variety of wildlife and vegetation. It is no wonder 3.5 million people come here to Yosemite every year.

On the top of the first waterfall, Vernal Fall, I talked with a couple from Germany. They informed me of a backpackers camp about 4 miles up from my position, called Little Yosemite. I really wanted, for the first time in my entire life, to sleep outside with my comforts carried solely on my back. I had spent time packing, cooking, and routing my hike (maybe not so much routing). I wanted to freakin backpack.

Yosemite National Park requires all backpackers to have a backpacking permit and carry a bear box for food (hanging food in trees is forbidden, they're too smart here). I didn't have either. I've heard stories of Ranger's telling people without permit's and bearbox's to leave no matter what time they arrived (10am, 5 pm, 10pm they don't give a shit). My chances of getting into Little Yosemite were slim to none. I went anyway.

It took me two hours to get to the top of the second waterfall, Nevada Falls. At this point the sun was setting and it was a beautiful place to set my bag down and rest. I pulled out my aluminum foil dinner and the cooking stove. I heated it up. I realized I had forgotten my eating utensils. And I said ****. First trip mistake, take note. The next mistake was a big one, potentially one of survival. I used my awesome Gerber knife to eat my meal. Half way through I realize I had been slicing through the foil the entire time. I lifted my dinner up and go figure: sausage, carrot, green pepper, and onion juice was all over my pants. This was a pretty big mistake because Yosemite has around 300 bears within the park, all of which LOVE food. I had one pair of clothes so I poured water on my pants to wash the juice off (as if this would do anything to disguise the smell from a BEAR).

From the top of Navada Fall to Little Yosemite the ground was completely level, a very nice change of pace. I met a man on the trail who noted there was a bear just around the bend. Just my luck, seriously. I have never seen a bear outside of a cadge before. This time of my life simply just wasn't the point I wanted to change that. I hiked on with my trail mix in my hand. I was thinking I would throw it at the bear if I saw it. Iiiii really don't know where I got that idea from. Luckily I never saw this bear, although I was terrified and keen-eyed every step of the way.

Around 6:30 I found Little Yosemite. Conveniently the Ranger Station was 100 yards from the campsite. I was informed by one of the guests that they had not come around to check permits yet. I decided to try meeting one of the rangers and sweet talking him into letting me stay. If that didn't work I suppose I'd either pitch a tent somewhere far back from the trail or walk to the valley and sleep in a meadow.

Good luck followed me. Robbert was an extremely nice ranger. I told him up front I didn't have a bearbox nor a backpackers permit. He told me to just find an empty spot in the campsite and camp there for the night. Robbert also told me that Half Dome was only 3 miles from Little Yosemite. Because there was a full moon, there would probably be a good amount of people up there during the night.

I put my things down in the campsite, pitched my tent, and ate some trail mix. I used my neighbors water filter to filter some stream water close by. It tasted better than store bought bottled water. I repacked my bag with the few things I would need for the top of Half Dome and headed off around 8:00, just as it was getting dark. The forest around me started to look like a new planet.

My First Encounter

When you're in the wild, it seems like your body turns on a sixth sense. I was about a mile outside of camp, walking by myself, when it first occurred to me that I was unaware of everything around me. A bear could have been following me for all I knew. I have never been so thankful of this sixth sense as I was when I checked my back for the first time that day. It so happened that at that moment a brown bear crept over a rock and made eye contact with me. Now, you have to understand, I've never seen a bear outside of a cadge before. When this full grown bear, maybe 430 pounds, crept over that rock and looked at me, I wasn't sure if I had shit or pissed myself.

I want to quote the book I am reading by Bill Bryson called A Walk in the Woods:

“'The typical [brown] bear-inflicted injury,' he writes blandly, 'is minor and usually involves only a few scratches or light bites.' Pardon me, but what exactly is a light bite? Are we talking a playful wrestly and gummy nips? I think not. And is 500 certified attacks really such a modest number considering how few people go into the American Woods? And how foolish must one be to be reassured by the information that no bear as killed a human in Vermont or New Hampshire in 200 years? That's not because the bears have signed a treaty, you know. There's nothing to say they won't start a modest rampage tomorrow...

To ward off an aggressive black bear, Herrero [author of Bear Attacks, Their Causes and Avoidance] suggests making a lot of noise, banging pots and pans together, throwing sticks and rocks, and 'running at the bear.' (Yeah, right. You first, Professor.) On the other hand, he then adds judiciously, these tactics could 'merely provoke the bear.' Well, thanks. Elsewhere he suggests that hikers should consider making noises from time to time to alert bears of their presence, since a startled bear is more likely to be an angry bear, but then a few pages later he cautions that 'there may be danger in making noise,' since that can attract a hungry bear that might otherwise overlook you.

The fact is, no one can tell you what to do. Bears are unpredictable, and what works in one circumstance may not work in another.”

The next thing I know I am running the fastest I've ever ran before through a very, very, dim forest. In the processes I came about three feet away from tackling a deer on the trail (I didn't see it until it franticly leaped out of the way). I did not check my back one time. After a quarter mile of running I came across a couple who was hiking down from Half Dome. I'm sure the expression on my face at that point was a humorous sight to see. I was fucking terrified. They seemed fairly surprised to see a primate with a backpack and bandanna running for it's life I suppose. I was so happy to see another of my own species. I talked with them for a few minutes while I calmed down. They said there were 3 or 4 people on Half Dome still. I composed myself, thanked them for their presence, and continued on my hike.

Thank You Gavin and BK

At this time it was dark enough that you had to use your headlamp on the trail. The next two people I met were Gavin and BK. They told me that when they came down from Half Dome there was no one else up there. They thought I was nuts to try climbing the 350 foot high rock in the dark. It had never really occurred to me it was such a crazy idea. “Its a 70 degree angle of sheer granite. I slipped on the way down, there's sand here and there that you can't even see. I'd take ourselves for dead if it were any darker on our way down. You're out of your fucking mind.” I stood there and considered their advice. Then I stood there and imagined standing on the top of Half Dome at midnight underneath a full moon. The picture in my head was too intriguing. I thanked them for their advice and continued on my way, about 1.5 miles to the summit.

When someone tells you something like that and you're walking by yourself the voice will replay over and over again in your head. For 10 minutes I walked uphill staring at this massive rock ahead of me. From the valley, 4,000 feet below, it doesn't look so big. It grows exponentially as you get closer. I stopped for a water break where there was a perfect view of Half Dome in the near distance. It was there that I came to my senses. I had just been stalked by a bear, I had my sausage dinner on my pants, and I was alone for my first time in Yosemite National Park. I didn't want to walk alone anymore.

The next thing I know I'm running just like I was 30 minutes earlier, except now I was running downhill and nothing was chasing me besides fear. It's not a good idea to be sprinting on rocky trails, and especially not rocky trails in the pitch dark. Trees and rocks absorbed millisecond spurts of photons from my headlamp, and the once beautiful scenery now flew by me faster than I could comprehend. It was like that Light Speed thing in Star Wars. I was surprised how much distance BK Gavin and I had separated in just 10 minutes. When I ran by the scene where the bear was earlier, I wasn't sure if I shit or pissed myself again.

Finally I met again with BK and Gavin, thanking them for their advice. At that moment I was convinced that if I had continued on my way to Half Dome I would (a) fall off the side of it (b) be eaten by a bear, or (c) die from fear. BK and Gavin commented a similar viewpoint. I set my alarm for 4:20 in the morning so I could see the sun rise on the top of Half Dome, that seemed like a cool trade off.

Half Dome

I woke up at 4:20. It felt like it was negative 50 degrees outside. My sleeping bag felt warm, and it cuddled me back to sleep. At 9:30 I woke up again after 12 hours of sleep. I ate some trail mix, packed my tent, and headed off once again on the 3 mile hike to Half Dome.

I kept a pace of about a mile every 22 minutes. I passed everyone I saw on the trail but one hiker. I wanted to catch up with him, it felt like a race for some reason. My 30 pound bag had other plans and I didn't see him until later that day on the summit.

When I got to the part of Half Dome where it starts ascending at a 70 degree incline I started picturing what things would have been like if I had climbed it the night before. It wasn't as scary as Gavin and BK made it seem. People stood at Half Dome's base in fear, probably as scared as I was when I saw that bear. They weren't even moving, they just stood on this rock between two cables and contemplated God knows what. I was too impatient, so I put my gloves on and went along the right side of the cable holding it with one hand and climbing. It was exhausting.

The feeling of standing on top was incredible. You could see so many different mountain peaks, many of which still had snow on top.

I met a man named Ben on the top of Half Dome. He was an electrical engineer from Virginia. We hiked down together and talked about various things. Ben had done a few marathons before. As he talked about them it made me realize that I have always wanted to do one. He told me about a half marathon (13.1 miles) that they have in Virginia Beach on Labor Day weekend. Since I would only have 2 months, and because I have never done a full marathon before, the Virginia Beach Rock and Roll Half Marathon would be a perfect introduction. When we got to the fork of the Mist Trail and the John Muir trail we said our goodbyes and headed our separate ways. Ben went down the Mist Trail, and I followed the John Muir Trail.

The John Muir Trail is 1.2 miles longer than the Mist Trail, however it is a much more gradual decent. They fork back into each other and continue as one merged trail for about a mile until the end. It just so happened that Ben and I met exactly (and I mean exactly) at the fork where the John Muir and Mist Trail merge again. We just stood there laughing for a bit and continued walking and talking for the remainder of the hike. Once we reached the end he bought me an ice cream at the trail kiosk. I sat in marvel at how detached one can become from just one day in the wilderness. Everything was perfect.