Half Dome

One of the items on my bucket list was to summit Yosemite’s Half Dome. This year I got a permit for the cables in late September! I convinced Ted Markus to join me on the adventure. However, as most know, I herniated two discs in my neck in early April. Slowly, I began my recovery from the injury. I kept focusing on getting strong enough to attempt the Dome. As the time got closer, I felt that I might be able to do it. My foot was doing well through the training hikes, and my neck was better. So, on Friday (Sept 21st), we loaded up the car and headed to Yosemite. Since it is a drive and sadly, we are not in our 20s, we decided to break the drive up into two parts. Since we were passing through Bakersfield, I had to introduce Ted to the only two good things in that town; Basque food (Benji’s) and Dewars!

After a fine meal and some ice cream, and some chews to bring home, we headed on to Visalia for the night. As we drove into the Yosemite the next morning, the effects of the Ferguson fire were all around us; trees still smoldering, “Thank You” signs hung on fences, and repair crews still working to restore services…

We drove our way up to Glacier Point to gaze at the Dome, as well as much of the route we would take the next morning from the valley floor: first past Vernal Falls, then Nevada Falls, along the Little Yosemite Valley, then back around to the sub-dome, then the cables to the top.

We had talked about a short hike to Sentinel Dome, but it took us 20 minutes to park at Glacier Point, and the parking at the Trailhead was full. In fact, some poor driver got his car seriously stuck as we were leaving.

We returned back to the valley floor to see some sights, find our trailhead, and double-check our permits with the Rangers. We took a short hike out to Mirror Lake (long since dry for the season) and to gaze up at the sheer face of Half Dome.

As the sun began to set, we headed out of the valley for an early dinner and last-minute prep for the following day. On the way out, we were greeted with some magical light against the valley walls.

Unfortunately, the room we had reserved in El Portal had a pipe burst, so we had to stay another 10 minutes further from the entrance. We quickly settled in and had a forgettable dinner and hit the pillows. The alarm was set for 3:00 am, but we were both up before then. The air was crisp but not cool as we drove back into the park. The parking lot was slowly filling up with other hikers. We donned our gear and headed off. After a quarter-mile, we realized we made the wrong turn, so backtracking, we found the road to the Happy Isles bridge and began in earnest.

Through the darkness, lit only by our lamps, we trekked along the asphalt path toward the Vernal Falls bridge. A critter moved along the side of the trail, and the white stripe along its back made us pause and retreat. Thankfully, the only stink that we would be carrying would be our own.

The splashing of the unseen Merced River could be heard as we climbed ever upward. Once we left the paved trail, the real hike began. About a mile later, I took a misstep and rolled my right ankle. I could not believe it! It hurt some, but I could put weight on it. Hoping it was just a light sprain, I soldiered on in the darkness, taking a tad more care as I climbed the stone steps every upward.

Dawn’s light slowly began to fill the canyon, revealing the beauty that had been hidden. Atop the falls, we took a break before climbing to entering Little Yosemite Falls. We missed a turn and followed the wrong path for a bit. Our ‘Spidey-Sense’ told us to backtrack. Ted’s GPS was bouncing all over the place in the narrow canyon. So we entered the relative flat of Little Yosemite and enjoyed the respite as the Merced River flowed past…

The ankle was gently reminding me of the episode hours earlier as we walked through some river sand. I could also feel the elevation in my lungs as we climbed ever higher.

Soon, we began to catch glimpses of the backside of Half Dome and the sub-dome. They still were towering above us, although we had been hiking since 4:30 and it was close to 9:00 am. When we reached the turnoff for the last two miles up to Half Dome, we unloaded my two side water bottles, and Ted’s Gatorade, behind a tree. No sense in carrying the weight up to the summit.

I could feel my energy begin to drain, along with the unsteadiness of my ankle. I told myself that at the sub-dome I would be honest and decide if I should abandon the attempt. Over 7,000 feet up, the lungs were feeling it. We had started the day at about 4,000 feet.

Closer and closer, we neared the sub-dome, which many had said was equally as hard as the cable ascent.

As I reached the base of the sub-dome, I knew that I did not have it in me to safely attempt the summit. Between the ankle and my energy, I knew that I should not try. I was truly saddened as I wished Ted good luck on his summit attempt. I placed my safety belt on a rock, where I hoped someone would be able to use it. Ted said he passed his along as well once he was done with it.

We agreed to rendezvous back where we left the water. As I descended, my ankle gently reminded me that I was making the correct choice. I found solace under the pines as I worked my way back down. Once at the junction, I let my feet rest, ate some of my lunch and sipped some water. I chatted with hikers as they passed, wishing them good luck on their attempts. Then I began to worry about my pace and the distance I needed to cover to return to the trailhead.

I packed up my water and left Ted’s empty Gatorade as a signal that I had started back down (along with an arrow made of sticks). As I made my way back down the switchbacks, each step reinforced my decision. I knew that Ted would catch me at some point, and if not, I planned to wait at the bridge at Nevada Falls, where we would take the John Muir Trail (JMT) down, bypassing the steep, stone steps from earlier.

Just before entering Little Yosemite Valley, the Ranger was checking permits on her iPad. I gave her my name and asked her to pass along a message to Ted that I was ok and headed down. I was also able to find some ankle tape, which greatly helped. I was so lucky that it was just lying there…

Ted caught me just before we left the valley again. Crossing over the Merced River, we were treated to some tremendous views of the falls as we worked our way down the JMT.

We still had about 4+ more miles to go back down to the valley floor, along with about 2,000 feet of elevation. Although this route is longer, by about 2 miles, our knees and my ankle were thankful.

We did have a brief unscheduled stop, because a bear and her two cubs were reported ahead, so we let them pass. We did not see them.

But our adventure was not over! We decided to take the long way home down the 395 the next day. If you have never explored this road, you must. It is truly a hidden gem of California. After one last farewell to Half Dome, we continued along the 120, and over the pass at 10,000+ feet.

We quickly began our descent toward Lee Vinning, but not before more awesome vistas filled our car window. Our first quick stop along the 395 was at Mono Lake and the Tufas. (It was too early to hit the Whoa Nellie Deli).

As we drove down the 395, the eastern Sierras rose sharply along the highway. Patches of snow still clinging to a few spots. As lunchtime approached, we were nearing the town of Bishop, which could only mean one thing…

Grabbing some sandwiches to go, and a bag of bread for the family, we continued back toward San Diego. As we neared Lone Pine, we stopped at the Manzanar National Historic Site.

In 1942, the United States government ordered more than 110,000 men, women, and children to leave their homes and detained them in remote, military-style camps. Manzanar War Relocation Center was one of ten camps where Japanese American citizens and resident Japanese aliens were incarcerated during World War II. Sobering…

After a brief look at the Visitor Center and the driving tour of the site, we headed the short way to Lone Pine on Whitney Portal Road. There we headed out to the Alabama Hills and the Mobius Arch.

I was too sore to attempt the hike to the arch. I had seen it a few years before, so Ted scampered down the trail. I did stare up at Mt. Whitney in the distance…

We made our way through the high desert, occasionally slowed by traffic. It looks like the 395 is being widened from Kramer Junction to the 15 (eventually), and the 58 will be bypassing Kramer Junction sometime soon as well. We both reflected on the journey and we were thankful for it and the support of our family to undertake it.

Soon, the sun was setting over the desert, and Chris and Ted’s adventure came to a close. Thanks for reading. Happy Trails…