The eastern side of Half Dome, with the cables and a few climbers.

On my recent photo trip to Yosemite with friends Tyler, John and Suad, I got the idea to hike to the top of Half Dome, as more or less a Because It’s There thing. My wife, L and I had recently watched a Discover TV series about an expedition on Everest, and while that multi-month long and very expensive endeavor doesn’t have much appeal to me, I thought that getting to the top of Half Dome seemed pretty reasonable and would be something worth doing. It turned out that Tyler and his wife were planning on doing the same hike, so he ended up having some very useful advice for us.

I say “us” because the plan changed pretty quickly from my slipping off for a day to do the hike to a joint effort with the wife. In all honestly, for two reasons I had my doubts about how well that would work. The first is that L has a fairly considerable aversion to high places, and second is that five years ago she had her right knee reconstructed, complete with synthetic bone, metal plates, the whole nine yards, after an accident at a dog park. Formerly an avid runner, she now manages her knee with care and lives around its limitations. I just didn’t know if it would be up to what is a pretty strenuous hike.

As for the fear of heights thing, the complication with Half Dome is less its elevation of 8836 feet as the fact that to climb the dome itself, you need to go up with the aid of cables because the side of the dome is so steep. If you look down, you see a substantial distance between you, precariously perched on a slick granite slope, and the valley floor almost 4,000 feet below, with not much in between. Going up is hard enough, but you have to come back down, too. Assuming her knee held up, I just didn’t know if she’d decide to wait for me at the bottom of the cables when faced with the actual challenge in person.

But she was determined, and for the past month and a half or so, we’ve been training by walking through the Oakland Hills, and once taking a hike up Mount Diablo. When it came time to leave, we felt our fitness was pretty good and were determined to give it our best shot. Thanks to the timely and wise advice from Tyler, we were well-prepared for our assault. The best parts of Tyler’s advice were to start early, bring a water filter, bring good gloves, and consider a climbing harness with safety line for the cables section. Each of those details turned out to be very useful.

We arrived in the park Wednesday evening, and due to the road work that continues to cause long delays on the road to Wawona, got to our lodging in time to grab over four hours of sleep before our alarm went off at 3:30 AM. Our goal was to hit the trail head between 4:30 and 5, and we didn’t quite make it. We only had to wait half an hour for the pilot car to take us down toward the valley, and managed to find the Trail Head Parking area in the dark. Since the free valley shuttle doesn’t run that early, we had to begin our walk almost a mile from the trail head itself. Into the darkness we went at 5:15 AM.

The weather in Yosemite has been brutally hot this summer, but it was nice and cool at this hour. By flashlight we followed an unfamiliar path through the woods until we emerged behind the snack shop and shuttle pick up point that I remembered from our last hike on the Mist and John Muir Trails. We followed the road to the trail head sign and the news that we were officially beginning the 8.2 mile trek up the hill.

Climbing the stairs on the Mist Trail as the sun rises.

The air lightened gradually as we climbed to the bridge below Vernal Fall. There were already quite a few people out and on the route, considering the time of day. By the time we reached our first decision, taking the John Muir Trail up to Nevada Fall or the Mist Trail, it was light enough that we chose the latter. Last time I was on the Mist Trail it was more like the Monsoon Trail, and the idea of climbing up all those wet, slippery granite steps in the dark was not appealing. Given that the sun was already rising, we took the shorter route and found Venal Fall to be flowing nicely, but a shadow of its form back in June. The familiarity with the route also made the 1.8 miles go quickly, and soon we emerged at the top of the fall for a quick rest before continuing on toward Nevada Fall.

The back face of Half Dome and its Sub-Domefrom Little Yosemite Valley

The path from the top of Vernal Fall to Nevada Fall is lovely until it starts getting steep, but at that point you’re climbing right next to the fall itself, and the sound of the water as it hits the rocks below Nevada Fall is amazing. It was still cool when we reached the edge of Little Yosemite Valley, and we decided to keep going to take advantage of the low temperature rather than seeing the fall from the top. As we cruised along the river, the back of Half Dome emerged as the sun climbed high enough to warm it up. We were making good time and L’s knee was holding up nicely. One of her goals for the trip was to take a photo on the top of the dome to send to her surgeon at Stanford Med. That would be a proud moment!

At the end of the upper valley, we turned toward the dome and entered the forest again, the weather still mercifully cool, just one of the ways we got very lucky that day. The trail got more crowded, as people who had camped in the upper valley rose and headed toward the dome. On we went, unwisely deciding not to top off our water before leaving the Merced River behind. Through the forest we climbed, ever upward, the dome appearing through the trees, then disappearing again. We started meeting traffic coming down the trail, and finally I asked some of those hikers if they’d already been to the top. Mind, it was only 8:30 or so in the morning. They had, and had started from the lower valley at midnight to reach the dome by sunrise. Being atop the dome to see the sun come up sounded pretty good, but to make the entire trip in the dark–I wouldn’t want to do that if I’d not made the the same hike before in the day light for I knew what I was in for and where I was going.

Hikers climb the steep switchbacks on the sub dome section.

Eventually we emerged from the forest as the trees thinned, and the dome loomed large now. We’d heard from others who’d done the hike at some point that getting to the cables was no picnic, and the sub-dome, as they call it, is very challenging. From below, looking up, it seemed impossibly difficult. The sub-dome is very steep, and I couldn’t see from the trail how it was possible for average people to make the entire journey every day of the week as happens year round. But it turns out that the sub-dome is made passable by switchback stairs either cut into the granite or fashioned out of granite blocks. If you look closely at this photo, you can see people climbing the switchbacks until about 2/3 of the way up the sub-dome, when you just scramble up the granite as it becomes less steep. So it turned out that while the sub-dome is physically challenging due to the steepness and altitude, it’s a piece of cake otherwise; it’s pretty much just climbing a bunch of stairs.

Once at the top of the sub-dome, we got out first good look at the cables. The side of the dome is very steep, and Tyler had warned that getting to the top is more a matter of pulling yourself up, using your legs to support your body rather than to move it along: you can’t really walk up the steep side of the dome without the help of a cable to pull on. Again I wondered if L would make it all the way to the top. The climb up the sub-dome had been slow going, with lots of resting to catch our breath in the thinning air. It was getting pretty warm under the direct sun on the sub-dome, which made the progress even slower. Our training at sea level had done us good, but hadn’t really prepared us for the lack of oxygen. And now that we were seeing with our own eyes how steep the ascent was… The moment of truth approached, and I waited to see if she’d decide she’d had enough at the base of the cable section.

But when we passed over the sub-dome and descended slightly to the cables, once again my wife amazed me with her determination and courage. She just got right down to business and started putting her climbing harness on as if there was nothing to be concerned about. Due to Tyler’s advice, I’d purchased for her this harness, along with a carabiner and section of climbing rope. With this she could clip the carabiner onto the cable as she climbed up, and if she slipped, the connection to the harness would keep her from plummeting to her death. It was a good plan, and as it turned out, we were both very glad to have heeded Tyler’s advice. Being less intelligent than both Tyler and my wife, I did not use a climbing harness.

Sort of like socks at a shoe store...

A few notes about other equipment: I was smart enough, however, to follow some more of Tyler’s good advice, that related to gloves. I’d been planning to wear biking gloves, but Tyler had recommended some Petzl K52 CORDEX gloves with full fingers and BOY am I glad I got us two pairs of those. After a trip up and a trip down the cables, there is as much wear on the fingertips of my gloves as on the palms–fingerless gloves would be a huge mistake. The cables are smooth, but they are twisted strands of metal, and given how tightly you’re holding onto them most of the time, fingers in good quality gloves just might save your life. But if you get there and don’t have any gloves of your own, you aren’t entirely out of luck. There was a large selection of used gloves left by others, though none as nice and new as those I’d got for us on Tyler’s suggestion.

In our training sessions, we hiked in some pretty hot weather, especially when we went up Mount Diablo. One of the items I decided to get was a synthetic shirt, because each time I wore a normal cotton t-shirt, it was eventually so soaked with sweat that it became quite heavy and uncomfortable. I got a very lightweight synthetic shirt at REI, and it made a huge difference when hiking in the hot weather. In the cool morning, it was a little chilly, but as soon as we started working hard on the hike it was very comfortable.

As I knew we’d be starting early in the morning, I thought a pair of convertible pants would be useful, and these, The North Face Men’s Paramount Peak Convertible Mens Pants, paid off very nicely. I’m a big fan of The North Face gear–it’s well made and well designed, worth the price if you can manage it. These pants have well-placed pockets, either zippered or closed with Velcro, and are comfortable in either mode.

Perhaps the most important, however, was footwear. I have some very nice Asolo hiking boots that I wear on landscape and MotoGP shoots, but I was concerned that given the Half Dome trek’s distance of over 18 miles from parking lot to the top and back, the boots, though lightweight for boots, might seem pretty darned heavy toward the end of the trip. So I went to REI, again, and got some great advice from the shoe guy there about trying some trail runners. He explained that these shoes have much greater stiffness in the sole than regular running shoes or light hikers, grabbing one by the heel with one hand and the toe with the other and twisting. Some of the shoes he showed me twisted easily, almost180 degrees, but these were much more rigid and resisted that twisting motion. They were also much lighter than my hiking boots and worked out great, with one possible exception that I’ll get to later. They had fantastic grip, even on the granite, and protected my feet from the pointy rocks and uneven terrain that covers so much of the hike. I also highly recommend Superfeet inserts. I use the high arch model with the extra foam under the balls of my feet, because years of racing in narrow European cycling shoes have left me with some foot issues. These insoles are the best I’ve ever used. I like them so much I got a second pair for my street shoes.

For water, I just got a large aluminum bottle, but L got a Camelbak hydration pack that she LOVED. It has room for other items, like her energy bars and so on, and she loved the convenience of being able to drink from the attached spigot thingy.

Up, up and away!

Once we had L’s harness in place and our gloves on, we started up the cables. At every (but a couple) pair of cable posts, there is a 2×4 plank across the posts where you can rest between exertions as you pull yourself up the side of the dome. A few of the planks are missing, so several times there is a longer stretch between opportunities to plant your feet on the planks and catch your breath. While the side of the dome is pretty steep, it’s no big deal with the cables there to use. What IS no joke is the fall you’re in store for IF you lose your grip and balance at the same time. That would be bad, and in the past has been fatal to some. But as long as the cable path isn’t too crowded, people of average ability are able to get to the top of the 425 foot ascent and back down every day. They manage to do so even when the cables ARE overcrowded, and in a way it’s amazing that there aren’t more accidents. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

The climb gets quite steep a little over halfway up and at that section, you’re really hanging on tightly to the cables. L was in front of me so I could help with her carabiner. As she approached a plank, I would scurry up after her and remove the carabiner from the lower side of the cable post, then quickly clip it back on to the cable on the upper side of the post. We would then wait there, her standing on the plank and me a few feet below, until she was ready to move to the next plank. When I say ‘standing there’ I mean hanging onto the cables for dear life. Even when you’re on a plank, you’re still holding on to the cables, and when you’re just below a plank so your wife can stand on it, you’re REALLY holding on tightly. It was going fine until we caught up to a guy just ahead of us who had slippery gloves and slippery shoes. On the steepest part of the ascent, he was really having trouble moving forward because his gloves didn’t grip the cables well and his shoes kept slipping down as he tried to press on. This was the first nervous situation for me, as I grew more concerned the guy would slip completely and tumble back toward us. But with L’s gentle encouragement the guy managed to get a gap on us at last and we managed to make pretty good time up the rest of the path. There’s nothing for motivation like an attractive woman waiting for you to cowboy up and climb the flippin’ rock already.

Eventually we made it to the end of the cables and kept climbing to the large are atop the dome. It’s quite an accomplishment getting here. Though the trip from the valley is not difficult in the sense of requiring any high degree of skill, it is arduous, especially if it’s hot. We were very lucky to have cool weather for our trip up, and thanks to Tyler’s advice were well-prepared with good equipment. (By the way, while most people don’t think to bring a harness, there were quite a few who did so, and given the danger, I advise anyone to invest $75 to greatly increase his or her personal safety while on the cables. There is no need to be embarrassed that you’re the only one because you probably won’t be, and if a harness ends up saving you from falling off the dome, think how clever you’ll feel then.)

We took some time to enjoy the unique view of the valley. As the second high point in the valley behind Clouds Rest, you can see for many miles in every direction. To save weight I’d brought on the D700 and 24-70mm lens, but I made a few panorama images that I hope will come out nicely when I’ve had the chance to work on them. I imagine that the sunrise would be spectacular and would consider making the trip again for that photo op, although that would mean getting a tripod up there somehow.

We made it!

When we’d had our time at the top, we decided to head back down after an hour or so. It had taken us almost exactly five hours to get to the top, and we were conscious of some more of Tyler’s experience, that of having to descend a very crowded cable route full of people who hadn’t departed from the valley before sunrise. Sure enough, at around 11:30 we geared up and started back down. Due to the slope of the dome at the top of the cables, you can only see a little way down the route before the cables disappear. When we got to the edge and could see to the bottom, we saw that the cables were PACKED with people coming up. We continued down and it was slow going. About halfway down I started getting very concerned not only for our safety, but for everyone’s. L was using her harness behind me as we moved slowly downward, but it was a much different experience having to move past five or six people sometimes to get from one plank to the next. As I watched the bottom of the cables, more and more people just kept joining us on the slope. Clearly from the bottom it didn’t look as dangerous as it did from where I was clutching the metal cable. But I realized that most of the people down there had not done this before and had no idea what it was like up here. To them it just looked like everyone was going up, so they might as well come along.

Along the route there are several sections where the granite steps up, or down depending on your direction. Most of the time the surface of the dome is smooth but these steps are about a foot to a foot and a half high, and as I recall usually found in the neighborhood of the missing planks. Going up them was an extra effort, but coming down a different sort of challenge for L. At one point she slipped and found herself sliding on her bottom as gravity got the better of her grip on the cables. When she reached the pole and its missing plank, her safety line caught her just as designed to do and to my relief, the knots I’d tied around the harness and the carabiner held. We were both glad for the harness, though at the time I didn’t know it; I’d missed the action, my attention focused on the problem we faced below us of the over crowded cables.

When we’d been going up, many of those going down said that the descent was more hair-raising than the ascent, but I didn’t feel this was true until we got to the crowded part. Going down with plenty of room to move as we’d had at the top was pretty easy. Given the many people coming up, I started having visions of the cables snapping and all of us going over the side like something in an Irwin Allen movie. About 3/4 of the way down, I’d had enough of the over crowded situation and ducked under the right side cable so that I could move quickly to the bottom along the outside of the path. It sounds a little reckless, but I honestly think it was safer to get to the flat area as quickly as possible so that I could turn around and watch how L was doing. If something bad happened, I wanted to see it coming just in case I could do something about it.

L finally made it safely down, and as she undid her harness, I counseled a family with three teenage kids to wait a while for the crowd to thin down. Several other couples we’d seen on the way up joined us back at the bottom, having turned around, and very wisely imo. When traffic is moving freely up the cables, you can move from plank to plank and rest between efforts. But when there are four, five or six people stopped and waiting to move forward, you’re just hanging on there for a much slower ascent and with much great intervals between being able to take advantage of the planks to rest your arms a bit. Going up in that crowd must have been MUCH more tiring than how we did it. Plus there’s the element of load on the cables themselves. At some point there might simply be too many people pulling them away from their anchors, and I don’t like to think about what would happen if one of the cables broke.

There was an official rescue worker at the bottom, watching the madness unfold with nothing she could do about it. I asked her how many people have to get on the cables for it to become unsafe. She replied, “It’s unsafe right now. I wouldn’t go up with that many people if I had a choice.” Another hiker counted the people on the cables and lost track when he reached 100. The rescue worker said that on the weekends Yosemite issues permits for 400 people to use the cables, and this summer they’ve never had all 400 show up, usually getting between 300 and 350 on a given day. She estimated that by 11:45 or so they’d already had between 500 and 600 start up the dome and would likely get to 1000 by dusk.

Very, very dodgy.

Hoping for the best, we headed back down the sub-dome as the temperature continued to climb. More and more people passed us, heading for the final stage of the Half Dome hike, and I imagined it getting more and more dangerous before it got better. But we had our own safety to think about, as the trip down the sub-dome requires close attention to solid footing and good balance. Before long we were back in the forest and grateful for the shade. I was the first to regret not topping off my water supply at the river hours before, as I ran dry and started looking forward to trying out the water filter.

As we moved down the rocky, uneven trail, we were joined by the same rescue worker we’d spoken to atop the sub-dome, and we continued to chat about her job and Yosemite in general. We were feeling good that we’d met our goals and were heading back to pizza and beer in Curry Village. Somehow I missed a step and went down, twisting my ankle fairly smartly and hitting a rock with my right knee, opening up a peanut M&M-sized divot in the flesh below my kneecap. Perfect! When the dust settled I was sitting on a pointy rock trying to gather my wits as the women fussed about what to do for me. By that time I was pretty dehydrated and used the rest of L’s water taking some emergency ibuprofen from the first aid kit. I’d also thought to bring a full roll of athletic tape, since I have a long, sorry history with sprained ankles. Once I’d come to my senses, I did a quick tape job on my ankle and got up to try it out. We were still about 6 miles away from the trail head, so I was actually really, really lucky I hadn’t broken anything.

The rescue lady got a call on her radio and had to move reluctantly on after seeing I was going to live. We moved slowly down the trail heading for the river and the opportunity to get more water and wash out my banged up knee. It was slow going for quite a while as my impromptu tape job was not the best I could do. It got hotter and hotter and we got more and more thirsty, so when we came to the clearing at Little Yosemite Valley we picked up the pace and headed for the Merced River. Once there, we found a swimming hole with other hikers and campers enjoying the frigid water in bathing suits and hiking shorts. I put my ankle in the river as L started working on filtering some drinking water. The water filter worked brilliantly and the clean water tasted soooooo good. I washed out the flap of sandy
flesh hanging off my knee and L made up a nice bandage for me. After 20 minutes or so and a re-done tape job on my ankle we were on our way again.

We continued along the river to the top of Nevada Fall, where I insisted we take a slight detour so L could see the sights. We also refilled the water supply for the trip down the hill. We’d been planning on taking the Muir Trail back so L could see the different views, but given the injuries, I decided I wanted the shorter route back down the Mist Trail. It was also hot enough that I thought the mist itself would be a welcome experience when we reached the spray from Vernal Fall.

Though the Mist Trail had passed quickly as we’d come up in the morning, going down on a sprained ankle and bloody knee made the trip seem much longer. We had to pull over often to left others pass. The last thing we needed was for one of us to fall again, and by this point we were both tired from the miles covered, altitude gained, low oxygen content, etc. The ankle felt pretty good as long as it landed on a flat surface, which I managed most of the time. Hitting a small rock that bent my ankle was pretty unpleasant, though. So we just poked along, trying to be safe. As we approached the lower Nevada Fall bridge, we saw one of the many hikers with whom we’d shared some portion of the journey, a teenager sitting in the shade with his head between his knees. We asked if he was okay, and he admitted he’d not had any water since the top of Half Dome. I gave him half of mine and not long after he’d perked up enough to come blazing by us. Once again we were grateful for Tyler’s tip about bringing a water filter!

Eventually we limped across the lover Vernal Fall bridge, and not long after that reached the trail head. Past the snack shop, through the fen to the parking lot, and after a short drive to Curry Village, we enjoyed pizza and beer and diet-Pepsi as a sweet reward for the day’s efforts. Once again, I can’t say how proud of my wife I am that she made it all the way up to the top of Half Dome, reconstructed knee, fear of heights and all. I’m so glad she came with, for to do it alone would’ve been less than half the experience of sharing it with her and watching how awesome she was.

Oh, and we saw a bear.