Half Dome Hike, September 26th, 2017

The journey to hiking Half Dome started on New Year's Eve 2016. My cousin, Katy, and I had gone camping to ring in the new year in Shawnee National Forest. Late that night, before the ball dropped, we began discussing our goals, our fears, what we could do, and what we would never be able to do. Indian Staircase, a hike I will explain later, had already come and gone, and we had failed at the base of the second scramble due to our exaggerated phobia of heights.

During our conversation, Katy mentioned Half Dome, a hike she could not see herself attempting because of the cabled section resulting in a climactic ending at the summit of Half Dome. I was intrigued. Up to that moment, my hikes had been mostly local; Half Dome was utterly unfamiliar to me.

I went home that next day and started my research on the trek. It looked challenging. I knew I wanted to try. I applied for permits the first of March and waited six and a half long weeks before I got the email at 6:05 am on April the 12th.

I screamed from my bedroom in shock and excitement. My two oldest children rushed into my bedroom, poised and ready to fight the beast that had caused the uproar. Instead, they found me sitting on my bed with my hands on my face, not knowing whether to laugh or cry. All I could say was, “we got them. We are going to California.”

They each gave me a high five and two huge smiles; not nearly the same level of excitement, but enough to know they were willing and eager to give it a go. We spent the next four months preparing for our journey; running and strength training to get ourselves in shape for the long haul. From the beginning, we were serious about our success. I had made efforts to decrease my anxiety and fear of heights. I was going to the top. I was going to stand on that monolith with my two oldest children by my side.

In late September, we flew from St. Louis to San Francisco. We stayed in Fresno the first couple of nights; exploring Kings Canyon and Sequoia National Parks. There wasn’t nearly enough time to see all I wished to while we were there. On the third day, we made our way to Yosemite National Park.

We stayed in a tent cabin at Half Dome Village. A small light hung from the ceiling, but otherwise, there was no electricity, and most importantly of all, no heat. We were prepared. The temperatures were predicted to be in the low 20’s through the night, but the park had provided extra blankets and offered more if we needed them. We each had our down sleeping bags and remained warm through the night. The cots in the tent, one full and two twins, were perfect and comfortable for the night before our 18-mile trek.

My excitement and some apprehension kept me awake longer than I had anticipated that night. I was retracing the connecting trails in my head and planning for contingencies we may encounter. I fell asleep shortly after midnight only to be awakened by the beeping of my alarm at 3:00 am. My phone read 17 degrees, and as I emerged from my blankets, I decided I would allow a little more time before getting the kids ready to go.

I dressed in my layers for the day, a base mid-layer top and bottom, a fleece insulating layer top and bottom, and an outer layer of pants and a hoodie for a shirt, followed by my jacket. My hands were freezing as I gathered all of our belongings for our packs; two liters of water per person, plenty of snacks, extra socks, our permits, headlamps, and my first aid kit. I also tossed in two sports drinks for each bag. Our bags were well below 20 lbs each, and I knew they would be lighter as we drank the water and ate the snacks. I placed the bags in the bear box and went for a walk to the pavilion for cell phone signal. I wanted to send my mom one last message before we started our ascent.

I woke the kids at 4:30. The temperatures lingered below freezing, but neither of them said anything as they pulled their layers on. There was a quiet excitement in the air as we each grabbed our backpacks, strapped them to our backs, donned our headlamps, and started off into the direction of Happy Isle Trail.

The first half mile or so was from Half Dome Village to Happy Isle trailhead. At this time of the year, the parking area at Happy Isle was closed, so walking from Half Dome Village was the only access to the trailhead. There was a bridge with water rushing under it, the sound mesmerizing at five in the morning, but the water was barely visible in the darkness.

We started the steep, paved ascent up the Happy Isle Trail toward the Mist Trail. This part of the hike was mild with some elevation gain at a steady pace. We were entirely in the dark; using our headlamps, we made steady progress.

We were beginning to warm up with our movements, and we were already shedding layers. My first thought, we wore way too many clothes. However, there would be enough room in our bags to fold them in as we pulled them off.

On the Mist Trail, we were greeted by our first rays of sunlight over the valley. We were on our way to Vernal Fall, the first of two incredible waterfalls we would pass on our day-long journey to the summit of Half Dome and back to the village.

The stairs on the Mist Trail, carved from the granite, are slippery at times and quite steep. We maneuvered carefully and deliberately; no one wanted to end our trip with a sprained ankle or anything worse. The breeze was cool coming into the valley, the smell of the water and wild, open-air were refreshing. I think we all felt peaceful, calm, and very focused. We could hear the sound of Vernal Fall long before we could see it, and it increased our excitement to view the cascading water.

The stairs seemed never-ending; a different turn, another landing, and several more to go, but finally, we stood in front of the fall. Vernal Fall was flowing about half capacity, which was typical for this time of year, but still an awe-inspiring moment.

We crossed above the waterfall, remaining on the Mist Trail, heading to Nevada Fall another couple of miles up on the trail. Our legs had already grown tired from climbing the numerous steps, and we had six more miles to go.

Nevada Fall was more impressive to me than Vernal Fall. The views overlooking the fall and the sheer power of the water cascading over the mountain captivated me. We rested there for quite a while, had a snack; oranges, raisins, and apples if I remember correctly, and started our way to Little Yosemite Valley. The sun was beaming through the trees, the air was warming up, and we were shedding another layer.

Little Yosemite was warm, sandy, and finally, flat. We enjoyed this tranquil part of the trail, giving our legs a short rest, and drinking plenty of water to keep hydrated for the rest of the hike. Past Little Yosemite Valley, we began the ascent into the woods for the last push before we would be above treeline. Numerous switchbacks through the forest, all uphill, exhausted us further after the grueling climb up the Mist Fall Trail. We were relieved to see the sign for Half Dome, "two miles ahead." We had already lengthened our intended arrival time by 2 hours, but we would have plenty of time for the summit and descent before darkness would arrive in the valley, or so I thought.

As we reached the exposed granite before Subdome, I lost my breath as I was overwhelmed by the views in front of me. North and South Dome and Cloud’s Rest came into view. Tears were in my eyes; I was genuinely overtaken by the beauty that surrounded us. I had seen the pictures, I had studied the trail, I had been told what to expect, but nothing could have prepared me for that moment. Even if we failed to ascend the cables, I would forever be grateful that I had made it this far, and these views would be etched into my memory.

At a resting point just before Subdome, I had my kids empty their bags and place needed items into mine. I did not want them ascending Subdome or Half Dome with packs, but I have been told since this may not have been a good idea as animals like to destroy backpacks in search of food. We did not encounter that issue; although we left no food inside these bags.

Subdome is underrated on the fear factor scale in most of the Half Dome blogs. People are so overcome by the cables and the summit of Half Dome that Subdome becomes overshadowed by those stories. But this part of the hike was trying for me. The stairs are steep as they lead around the side of the monolith. When we came to the end of the stairs, Subdome became a partial scramble on the granite. I questioned my ability here. Physically, I knew I was ready. Mentally, I was battling demons that scared the hell out of me, and quieting the irrationality was not an easy task. The first step onto what looked like smooth granite was the hardest, but I soon realized, as did my children, that it was more of an illusion than reality. Our boots held tight to the granite beneath them. The tread was perfect, and we had no problems maintaining our footing as we struggled our way to the top. I won’t lie, there were two minor mental breakdowns on Subdome that I thought for a moment could prompt me to turn around, but I knew how far we had come, and giving up there was not an option. Before we knew it, we were standing before our finish line.

Our first full frontal view of Half Dome and the cable trail was daunting. We watched in awe as people climbed up and down while we prepared for our chance at the cables. The cables were less than half full at this time, and everyone in the area seemed cheerful and excited. Those that had finished were walking on air, those preparing to go were beaming with anticipation.

Except me, I was terrified. I looked to the top of the cable, in my mind thinking, “no way,” and finally saying to my children, “I can’t do this.”

Neither of them reacted. Alison simply asked, “are you serious?”

Tears stung my eyes; we had worked so hard, come so far, how could my head make us give up here?

Alison said, “just because you can’t do it doesn’t make you a failure, you have a fear of heights, you can’t help that. You made it over Subdome which was the hardest part.”

Ethan patted me on the back and said, “you won’t be afraid because you won’t look down.”

Both were right, and I was acting like a baby. We set on a rock for a few minutes, reflecting over the day and how well we had done, and then we moved to the saddle at the base of the cables. They both hugged me, congratulated me for making it this far, and rallied around me for my final ascent up the dome. It was a precious moment of the hike, but I remained uneasy about the slope of the climb. As I was just about to give up completely, a man sitting on the saddle looking up, asked where we lived.

“Kentucky, the western part of the state, south of Henderson.”

His look told me he knew where it was. He was from Louisville and had traveled with his son; his destination the saddle, his son’s the summit. He said a few years ago he would have given it a try, but now, the man didn’t feel like he could do it at his age. His confession was my push, I WANTED to summit Half Dome, and I didn’t want to turn back until I had secured the victory. I did not want to miss my opportunity and never get another. I wanted to see the views I had looked at in pictures and read about in books, and I wanted more than anything to achieve that goal with my two oldest children by my side.

The man’s son returned around the same time I had made my decision. He was boasting of the fantastic climb and the awesomeness of the views around. We shook hands, and my kids and I donned our gripping gloves, or as my son called them, our "spiderman" gloves. We had on harnesses and had carabiners to clip into the cable. I had read mixed reviews on this, some claiming it made no sense to clip onto the cable, others saying it was the only thing that did make sense. I felt more secure knowing we were clipped on for the duration of the ascent.

As we reached the end of the cables, I fell to my knees and cried. I could not believe we were standing on this monolith that I had only dreamed about for nine months. We had made it. We had fought like hell through our fatigue and fears to stand on top of one of Yosemite’s iconic granite domes. The price was more than worth it. I was sure I could see my home in Kentucky from the summit, and my other three boys were cheering and throwing a thumbs- up our way. I blew them kisses from across the country. I threw my hands in the air, thanking God for our safe journey, the beauty that surrounded us, and the opportunity to share this with my kids. We hugged and laughed, and we congratulated each other. We explored the top of the mountain for what seemed like hours. And we rested, satisfied that we had given everything we had, and we had the most successful of journeys. I am still shocked today that we made our way there, standing side by side, overwhelmed by what we had accomplished.

The return trip to the base of the cables was less intimidating than the ascent. The pressure to succeed was gone, and we proceeded with slow and deliberate movements to ensure proper footing as we lowered ourselves down the cable. We chose to descend backward, we had seen people do both, but we felt more secure facing upward toward the mountain than down.

It took us about 20 minutes to descend the cables. We started down Subdome and quickly made our way to the stairs. We collected their bags at the base of Subdome and headed for the winding switchbacks in the forest before reentering Little Yosemite Valley.

I needed a change of socks, but Ethan and Alison were in a hurry to get down the mountain, so I instructed them to go to where the trail splits and take the John Muir Trail back to the Happy Isle Trail. I would catch up to them when I could. A huge mistake that could have led to tragedy. As my children left, I leaned against a log, pulling my socks from my feet and replacing them with dry ones. A twosome coming down from Half Dome stopped and talked for a moment, telling me they had taken some pictures of the three of us on the cables. The man said he could email them to me, and that made me smile. As they were walking away, maybe five feet in front of me, the man turned back and said, “there’s a rattlesnake there near that log.”

I jumped from my position, and I high stepped it with one shoe on to where they were standing. When I turned around, the rattlesnake was less than 2 feet from where I had been sitting. Suddenly, the snake rattled. Snakes terrify me, but to hear the rattle and see him slither away was impressive in spite of the fear.

Darkness was swiftly approaching, and I had not found my kids on the trail. I missed the turn onto the John Muir Trail and wound up on the Mist Trail. This trail was steep and troublesome during the daytime, and it was scary as hell at night. With only the light of my headlamp, I turned my way down the complicated steps that would end on overlooks that resembled the trail but ended at steep drop-offs that would result in certain death. I found myself backtracking on multiple occasions to locate the next set of steps that would lead me safely down the path. Twice I found myself off the official trail, disoriented in the brush of the trees, unable to locate the last granite stairway I had taken. The trek down was treacherous. I worried about my children. What if they too had missed the John Muir Trail and were fighting the same battles to stay safe as me?

I followed the sounds of the waterfalls, adhering as closely to the trail as I could see, and praying I would make it down the path safely.

In the distance, I saw a light coming up the path. A frantic girl we had met earlier in the day asked me if I had seen her friend. She had lost him at the junction of the JMT and Mist Trail, and she was considering calling search and rescue. I told her I had been on the trail for over an hour alone, had seen no headlights and heard no footsteps of anyone. I told her I would look for him as I continued down the trail. As I came around the last corner before the Happy Isle Trail, I saw a group of headlamps huddled together.

One stuck out from the others, a tall, skinny, college-aged male asking if anyone had seen his friend. I ran to him, “your friend is on the Mist Trail heading up. She is about 15 minutes back that way, and she was considering search and rescue.”

He yelled back, “thank you, “ as he took off in a sprint toward his friend.

An arm from another man in the group reached out and grabbed my shoulders, putting me on guard. He said, “you’re the Kentucky girl, aren’t you?”

Relief washed over me; I knew these people. Before I could answer, his father said, “your kids passed here ten minutes ago heading toward the village wanting to know if we had seen you. They are safe and said they were going to get food, but we are so glad to see you.”

Tears came to my eyes once again, and I felt the tension release; they were safe. We walked as a group back to Half Dome Village, but we spoke very few words. Exhaustion had set in, and we had one more push to our cabins before we could give up for the night.

I found my kids at the pavilion eating pizza, looking ragged and exhausted, but smiling. They ran over and hugged me. They left me one slice of pizza, and I inhaled it. We made our way back to our tent cabin. Our extraordinary journey was over, and we were depleted.

If I ever do this hike again, I will take the lessons I learned, and hike it better and faster, awarding myself with more time at the summit to explore. As for the rest, this hike was unprecedented. The effort we gave both before our arrival and the day of the trek made our journey more pleasant. I have said it before; if it hadn’t been my kids enduring faith and confidence in me, we would have never stood on that summit together that day. I credit the two of them and their hearts of gold for our success — a journey of 18 miles I would take with them over and over.

Tips for Hiking Half Dome:

1. Be prepared. Study the trail, read the blogs, register for permits.

2. Plan to stay in Half Dome Village or to camp nearby.

3. Start the trail early, early, early. I cannot stress this enough. In the late fall, the sun sets earlier and darkness on the descent when you are exhausted is worse than waking early and ascending from the valley in the dark.

4. Wear sturdy shoes that have aggressive tread. You should not wear flip flops, sandals, or crocs. This hike is 16 miles at best, and even though some have climbed the cables in less than ideal shoes, you will not regret spending a little extra to keep your feet comfortable.

5. Take plenty of water, there are areas to refill at the top of Nevada Fall, and you can filter at the Merced, but a couple of liters per person is recommended.

6. Take snacks, both carbohydrates and protein snacks. Trail mix and protein bars are easiest.

7. We packed a couple of sports drinks per person for the hike, but they are not necessary during the fall. In the summer, I would recommend at least two per person.

8. I am terrified of heights, just because you have an intense fear of heights does not mean this hike is not for you. If you truly want to hike Half Dome, prepare yourself and know your limits. The cabled section is easier than Subdome, but both are manageable if you are prepared.

9. Take extra socks. This is always a suggestion of mine. Wet feet make for miserable feet, and blisters can make a hiking trip painful.

10. Always take a first aid kit with essentials. You don’t need anything fancy, enough to handle minor injuries, but it always seems to come in handle. Place mole skin in the first aid kit in case of blisters.

11. Be prepared for crowds. During the summer, the trail is crowded and the cables are slow going. Patience is key to a successful journey.

12. Consider registering for permits in the late summer or early fall, they are easier to obtain and the crowds are smaller.

Please feel free to contact me for any information on the trail on my contact page. I love to answer questions about this hike, it will always be one of my favorites. Be safe and have fun!